Now, business had left us careworn. Days slipping by without our noticing. Drawn into a synchronized dance of day to day child rearing. How I longed to take his hand and lead him back to where we started. Love, so fresh and new. Uncomplicated by life. A world all our own.
I’d never met a guy like Ben before. I never thought there would be another living soul who could understand the depths of me. Yet all of a sudden, he was there, standing in front of me, leaving me breathless.
I was working as a barista at a coffee shop in Pinehurst, a beautiful southern village located in the central part of the state, with miles upon miles of golf courses. The whispering pines told tales of historic golfing legends that walked the village streets in years gone by.
I grew up here. Accustomed to the influx of golfers, eager to play on courses traversed by the greats.
Ben had come to Pinehurst, with his company, to participate in one of the many tournaments that were held here every year. Ben worked for a company called Delta Services. A financial consulting firm, dealing mostly with wealth management. He had only been there a year but he was a favorite among his bosses. The only junior executive asked to come to the tournament.
Fall was descending upon North Carolina. Like a flower, slowly at first, then all at once. Leaves exploded all around us in a splendid display of color.
And this was a morning that was better suited as a poem.
The crisp smell of fresh cut grass and the earthiness of turning leaves mingled together and wafted up my nose as I got out my car.
I had arrived on the golf course just in time to deliver the specialty coffees that Ben’s company had ordered. Requested to be delivered, thirty minutes before their tee time. I had four vanilla lattes, three mochas, and one double espresso with milk, all precariously double-stacked on two four-cup trays as I made way across the grounds. Just before I reached their tent, my foot caught on a tuft of grass and I fell forward. The coffees toppling down all around me. My white shirt stained brown and my pride irreparably damaged. I looked up, hoping no one had taken notice.
They had.
But Ben was the only person to come up and offer assistance. I stood up, wiping my shirt with my hands in a futile attempt to clean myself up, as he bent down to pick up the scattered cups.
My face flushed with embarrassment as he handed the cups back to me, sticky and covered with grass clippings. I looked down, avoiding eye contact.
“Hey, don’t worry about all of this,” he said softly.
“I’ll go back and get you new coffees right away,” I stammered as I attempted to put the cups back into the trays that were now saturated with coffee and dew.
The smell of vanilla bean and mocha was overpowering.
“No, no…it’s not necessary, really. Those guys are too wired as it is.” He chuckled as he looked in the direction of his team still standing under the tent. They were whooping and high-fiving each other over some unknown conquering.
He looked back at me and laughed again.
I looked at him fully for the first time and was taken aback at how attractive he was. He was tall, with an athletic build. Jet black hair, purposefully messy. Strong jawline. Vibrant green eyes that seemed to penetrate my soul. I broke away from his gaze, suddenly and acutely aware of my appearance. No makeup and drenched in coffee. When I looked back up, his eyes were still on me. Charming and flirtatious.
I was so taken aback by him; I couldn’t formulate the words to say the ‘Let’s make it right for the customer’ spiel.
We stood together for a moment, surrounded by the sound of bird songs, the low murmur of conversation, and the occasional thwack of a well hit golf ball.
He was smiling at me.
What was he thinking about?
I wanted to leave, but I found myself frozen in place, unable to move away.
“How about I come by the shop after the game is over and we can settle this up?” he said, still smiling.
His eyes were soft but I could also see a playful spark in them.
A look that said there was more he wanted.
A look that said he wanted to see me again.
Did I imagine it? Surely, he just wanted to stop by and get the refund he was owed.
“Sure, sure…I mean, if that’s okay?” I stammered.
He nodded happily and turned to walk away. Stopping after only taking a few steps, he turned back and looked at me. “By the way, my name is Ben…just in case you were wondering…”
He stood waiting for a customary response.
My name in return.
But I didn’t speak. Time was standing still.
His name ringing in my ears.
Ben.
The sound of it made every cell in my body begin to tingle. It resonated inside of me somewhere deep. A place I had never been before.
He waited for just a moment for my response and when he didn’t get it, a little dejected, he turned and walked back to his group.
Frozen. I watched him walking away, my chance to respond, getting further and further away. By the time I was able to speak, it was too late. He was back under the tent. And the opportunity had passed. My cheeks flushed again. I hadn’t meant to be rude.
I pulled out of the parking lot with the determination to not be there when he came to the shop. How could I face him when I had embarrassed myself, twice over?
But despite my outward resolve, deep down inside, I was dying to see him again.
There was just something about him. Something I couldn’t put my finger on, but it was there, drawing me to him. More than just his looks. I had dated attractive guys before. Ben was different. And something about him rocked me to my core.
I stretched in the faded rocker on our front porch. The mugginess of the morning had completely drifted away, while I was lost in memory. A breeze picked up, swirling around me, bringing with it the scent of freshly bloomed lilacs, signifying the end of cold weather, and I sighed.
I was ready for spring. In more ways than one.
A time to begin again. A rebirth for our marriage, perhaps.
A loud bang startled me, followed by the sound of laughter filtering out through closed windows.
I knew that sound well.
Playful wrestling. Boys being boys. And I was sure Ben was involved.
As the sounds of laughter faded, the memories called to me again.
As the dogwood branches adorned with fresh, new buds waiting to bloom swayed in the wind in front of me, my thoughts drifted back to the day we met.
After I left the golf course. I stopped at my apartment to change my coffee-soiled clothes. After putting on and discarding four different outfits, I stood in front of my closet staring. Finally, in desperation, I grabbed a long-sleeve black floral wrap dress and put it on, pairing it with a set of gold hoops and a pair of sandals. I threw some light curls in my hair, two strokes of mascara, and gloss on my lips.
I looked in the mirror and laughed. So much for not being there when he came by!
I got back to the coffee shop just as the morning rush was over. The clock ticked slowly as I busied myself with tedious tasks to pass the time.
After lunch, a man wearing a brown tweed jacket came in and ordered a cappuccino to go.
I inquired about the golf tournament. Was it over? He didn’t know.
Hours passed and the afternoon drew to a close. And there had been no sign of him. In ten minutes, we would be closing, and I would never see him again.
After all the employees had left, I began the closing routine. Something I often did alone.
As soon as I stepped into the back room, the front bell chimed.
I had forgotten to lock the front door and someone had come into the shop.
An instant knowing came over me… he was here.
I stood where I was for just a moment
, unable to move.
Compulsion pushed me forward.
And as soon as I stepped around the corner, I saw him.
His face strained with concern as he scanned the room. But once our eyes met, a broad smile came across his face.
I walked up to the counter and waited, my heart beating wildly as he approached.
He was wearing that same charming smile from earlier, all the way until he reached me.
There was no one here but the two of us in the soft light of the afternoon.
The fading sunlight filtering in through the front window, casting faint strips of light on the floor.
He leaned up on the counter, and his musky cologne filled the area around me. I could feel the heat of his skin even across the space between us.
I stepped in a half step closer.
“So, how can we make this right? I mean, you did jip us out of eight coffees.” There was a mock seriousness to him, as he winked at me.
The Spanish Guitar CD that had been playing all afternoon ended, leaving quiet in its place.
A wave of nerves washed over me and my hands began to tremble. I quickly shoved them under the counter ledge, out of sight, as I attempted to speak.
To my horror, all that came out was gibberish. I tried once more, and got the same result.
I could feel my cheeks redden, in frustration. What was happening to me?
He laughed, seeming to enjoy my ineptness. “Oh, so what I think you’re saying is that you’re offering to take me on a date to make up for it, huh? Hmmm, I think that’s a reasonable swap. Just tell me when and where…but it will have to be tonight, since I am leaving tomorrow morning.” His eyebrows lifted as he emphasized the word tonight.
I could tell he was pleased with his own wittiness.
I let out a small laugh.
“Ah, I will take that as a yes!” His smile grew wider. “By the way, do you think you might tell me your name now?” he chuckled.
“It’s Claire. Claire Everly,” I offered quietly, still feeling the redness in my cheeks.
Did he notice?
“Nice to meet you, Claire,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine.
I smiled softly in return, trying to not give way to the elation that was building inside of me.
It was agreed we would meet at seven, at the Mexican café across the street from the coffee shop.
I arrived a few minutes early and saw him before he saw me.
A shiver went down my spine in anticipation.
I looked at him as he stood waiting outside the entrance of the restaurant. Wearing jeans, a button up shirt and a sport jacket. Still as handsome as earlier.
I walked toward him, the joy of possibility all around me.
The sun was setting and cool breeze nipped at my arms. I was wearing fitted black jeans and a cream sleeveless top with a deep neckline. I had paired it with a set of black pumps. I now wished I had dressed warmer, as I shivered in the wind.
He turned around, and when he saw me, he smiled. A calmness enveloped me as he took my hand and led me into the restaurant. The feel of his hand in mine strangely familiar, though we had never touched.
We ate chimichangas and drank authentic Mexican beer while we talked.
“There’s something different about you, Claire. Different from other girls I’ve gone out with,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know, really. Just something about you feels familiar. Like I’ve always known you.”
I nodded because I understood his sentiment. I could feel it too. There was a sense of home between us.
As we talked, we opened up to each other, sharing things about our pasts with ease.
He told me he was an only child and he had always felt alone. Feeling alone was something else I could relate to.
“My mother was an immigrant from Spain,” he told me. “And my father, he came from a family of welders. Our family has been welding since the early 1900’s and has built a very successful business that has been handed down generation after generation. Until now. I was the only son of four brothers and the one who was expected to take over the business when my father and uncles got too old to keep it going. But me, I decided to go in a different direction. I went to college for business. In doing so, I hurt my father. We were really close when I was a kid. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I had my own hopes and dreams to follow. It caused an unspoken rift between us. He never brought it up, but I saw it in his eyes every time he looked at me.”
Ben paused and took a long sip of his beer as I sat patiently waiting for him to continue.
“When he got sick, my mom decided to take him to a faith healer’s compound in Utah rather than getting him traditional cancer treatment. He died six months later. The guilt still eats at me sometimes. And my mom, I had a hard time forgiving her. I think if he had just gotten proper medical treatment, he’d still be alive. Now she’s gone back to Spain and we rarely talk. So, I feel like I lost both of my parents.” Ben’s words were choked with emotion and trailed off as the waitress brought another round of beers.
When she walked away, he changed the subject.
I wondered if he had opened up to anyone like this before. My gut told me no. There was definitely something going on between us. Something I had never experienced before. A feeling of coming home, but like no home I had ever been to before. It was warm. Comforting.
By the time he walked me back to my car, the air was thick with dew and the entire city was asleep. The stop light’s interchanging colors reflected down onto the empty street as we crossed over to where my car was parked. He put his arms around me, and I looked up at him with expectant eyes.
“I’m so happy that I met you, Claire Everly,” he said as he put his lips on mine, soft and sweet.
And then he smiled.
It was the beginning, the beginning of us, and I knew it.
We were married in less than two years. Our relationship as deep and enchanting as an evergreen forest. Comforting even in silence. Made up of a million moments that said we were meant for each other.
The front door swung open and out came two little boys, followed by Ben. He was carrying a Nerf football. Ben tossed the football to Grayson and he caught it on the first try. Ben ran over and gave him a high-five. His eyes lit up with pride.
Ben loved being with his boys. They were a major priority in his life and it showed.
I knew his own upbringing influenced his way of parenting.
Ben often told me his whole world was wrapped up in me and the boys. His former life fading more and more into the background every day we were together.
As did mine.
Two halves make a whole, they say. And I certainly found that to be the case with Ben and I.
At dinner, later that evening, I was struck by how quiet it was except for the chatter of the boys.
Ben’s eyes not meeting mine once.
Dishes washed in silence while the boys were put to bed.
Reading under lamplight.
A light kiss on the cheek goodnight.
A revelation of a vastness between us. How long had it been there?
I drifted off to sleep, deeply unsettled.
The next morning, I began to wonder. Was he still in love with me?
Like he was in days gone by…
That question shook me to the core.
He sat at the table reading the morning paper, sipping coffee.
I watched him as I wiped up spilled milk and Captain Crunch from the bar. Aftershocks from the boys’ breakfast.
I laid the rag down, moisture still on my hand, and walked over to the table.
I took a seat across from him, my hands folded in my lap.
Bird songs drifted in from the partially open window next to
the table. The thin curtain, moving with the breeze.
I studied his face as he intently stared at the paper open to the sports section.
As I looked, I noticed there were fine lines around his eyes. I hadn’t seen them before.
How long had they been there?
Had he been completely invisible to me?
I had been going through the motions so proficiently that somehow, he had slipped off of my radar.
Not intentionally.
Life was just busy raising boys.
Dirty diapers led to potty training, that led to muddy-kneed jeans, school lunches, and PTA meetings.
A never-ending influx of activity.
Distraction.
A side effect of having two children in the house.
He continued to drink his coffee and read the paper without looking up.
Could he feel me looking at him?
Why wasn’t he looking back? Was I invisible to him too?
He got up from the table and walked over to put his mug in the sink. I watched him as he moved through the kitchen and his shoes echoed on the floor.
I continued to watch as he rinsed his mug and turned it upside down on the counter.
Suddenly, I was filled with a wave of strong emotion.
I loved him so much. I wanted to tell him that he wasn’t less important to me!
We’d just been busy. That’s all…
I just didn’t know how to say it.
Suddenly, the boys bounded into the room all dressed for school. They were wearing mismatched t-shirts and shorts. Grayson wearing plaid with stripes and Oliver’s shirt on backwards.
I had been so lost in thought, I had forgotten about getting them ready for the day.
Their smiles, enormous. Proud of their independent accomplishment, and I didn’t have the heart to make them change.
“Did you sillies brush your teeth?” I offered instead.
Their sheepish grins gave me all the information I needed.
Ben walked over and playfully swatted their behinds.
“Get upstairs and brush those teeth!” You could hear the laughter in his voice.
They giggled and disappeared upstairs.
I knew I needed to follow them and make sure the job was done properly, but I was frozen in place.
The Moments Between Page 6