by Rula Sinara
“We’re here,” Ben said, startling her. He turned left onto a street lined with houses separated only by a few meters. Even in the dark, the glow from windows and entry lights revealed a well-manicured neighborhood.
“Oh. My. Gosh,” she said, gaping at the house he approached. Forget fairy tale. After reading about it in stories, she now knew what “Santa’s workshop” really meant. And she was going to get to live in it. Her pulse picked up. Chuki wasn’t going to believe this.
The house looked as if all the colors of a Masai village had been brought to life and showered with Serengeti stars. A sleigh with St. Nicholas—or Santa Claus dressed the American way. Giant wrapped gifts held by elves in green hats. Trees made of nothing but white lights. Even the roofline and windows sparkled.
“Christmas is celebrated quite early here,” she said. “Your children are so lucky.”
“Not celebrated yet, just decorated. The commercial side of things. Thanksgiving comes first in the US,” he said, turning left into the driveway across from Santa’s workshop. He shoved the gear into Park and turned off the ignition. “This is my house.” He sank back in the driver’s seat. Hope looked through the windshield.
No lights. Nothing. Save for a lit doorway. Hope quickly stamped out the hint of disappointment she had no right to feel. She smiled.
“It’s beautiful.” She unbuckled her seat belt and put her hand on the door.
“Wait a sec,” Ben said, squinting from the reflection of lights in the car mirror. “I don’t know if Jack told you, but my daughter… Maddie… She doesn’t—”
“I know,” Hope said, placing her hand on his arm. It was a reflex. Reassurance. Sympathy. Her bedside manner. But her fingers warmed, and she pulled back when he stared at her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m aware and understand,” she said, hoping the words explained her touch.
“Okay.” He got out and went around back. Hope cringed when the rush of cold came through his open door. She took a deep breath, then exited, hurrying up the flagstone path. Her teeth chattered as she rubbed her arms and waited for him, but she didn’t mind too much. She had a great view of the display across the street from here.
The front door swung open before he made it. A woman in beige pants and a blue tunic-length sweater scanned her from head to toe.
“You must be freezing,” she said, ushering her in. “I’m Ben’s mother-in-law. You can call me Nina.”
“Nice to meet you, Nina,” Hope said, shaking her hand. “I’m Hope.”
“Yes, I think either Jack or Ben mentioned it. It’s a lovely name. Is it short for anything?”
Hope raised her forehead and shrugged with a smile.
“No, just Hope.” She knew what Nina meant by the question. She was expecting a more ethnic name. Her mother was of Luo descent and had decided to combine their common practice of giving their children both a Western name and a Luo name, based on the events of the day of birth. She’d been named only Hope, because it was what her parents were clinging to when she was diagnosed with a hole in her heart as a baby.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look just like that beautiful actress… What’s her name? She won an award… Lupita something,” she said, waving her finger, trying to make the connection.
“I know who you mean. I’ve been told we look like sisters, and I’m thinking of cutting my hair very short like hers. It seems so much easier.”
“You’d be twins for sure. Come on into the living room,” Nina said just as Ben pushed through the door, maneuvering one suitcase inside and setting it against the wall. He took a stack of what looked like mail out from under his arm and set it on a wooden console, then quickly retrieved the second suitcase from where he’d left it on the front landing and kicked the door shut with his heel.
“I take it you’ve met,” he said, looking up as he took his keys out of the pocket of his jeans and set them next to the mail.
“Of course we met,” Nina said, brushing her hand through the air. “Unfortunately, I need to run or Eric is going to get grouchy. I spoiled that man, and now he can’t even fix his own dinner. Listen, Ben. I made sure Maddie’s homework got done, so you’re set for tomorrow morning. No sign of a fever or anything, but I sent her to take a shower. Chad was on the potty for quite a while before he went. I made a pot of vegetable minestrone for dinner, and everyone has eaten—”
“I’d ordered pizza before leaving and told them to have it here at five-thirty. Wasn’t it delivered?” Ben asked. Nina cocked her head and tucked her graying chin-length hair behind her ear. Hope felt like a third wheel all of a sudden, not sure if she should sit on the sofa or keep standing. She desperately needed to use the restroom, but the insistent line of Nina’s mouth and twitch at Ben’s temple kept her from interrupting.
“I put the pizza boxes in the fridge. I really didn’t mind cooking,” Nina said, grabbing her purse. “Oh, Chad said that you promised he could help with inflating that bed, so we went ahead and took care of it. He’s playing on it right now, and Ryan is sleeping. He drank his entire bottle beforehand.”
“Great,” Ben said, cranking his neck to the side and back. “You took care of everything perfectly. I better walk you to your car before Eric wonders what happened to you.”
“Well, maybe I should take a few minutes and go over some kid things with Hope and—”
“Nina. I’ll take it from here,” he said, putting his hand on Nina’s back to guide her out. “I’ll be right back, Hope. Make yourself at…comfortable.”
Not at home.
“I really need to use the restroom, if you don’t mind,” she said, slipping the tote handles off her shoulder.
“First door on your left is a powder room,” Ben said.
“Nice meeting you, Hope,” Nina called as Ben followed her out the front door. As the door closed, Hope overheard her telling Ben that she was hurt that he wouldn’t be needing her anymore. Clearly there were undercurrents here she hadn’t anticipated.
But all she cared about right now was peeing.
*
BEN LOCKED THE door behind him, rubbed his face with his hands, then exhaled. Why did he let everything Nina did or said get to him? He toed off his sneakers and turned. Hope was staring at him. For the next three months, the only place he could be alone in his house was going to be his bedroom.
“I, um, don’t know what you’d like me to do,” she said.
“Oh.” He patted his jeans. What did he need her to do? He’d never had a houseguest or a live-in anything. Granted, he’d spent most of his married life deployed. “You probably want to settle in, right? Or are you hungry?” He was starving as if there was no tomorrow. No way soup was going to cut it for him. The mere thought of vegetable soup annoyed him. It was the way Nina had said it. As if he was to blame for Chad being plugged up and Maddie not feeling well. As if he fed them takeout three meals a day. They were veggie pizzas, for crying out loud. A complete meal. He’d eaten his fair share of restaurant leftovers growing up and he was doing just fine. Then again, maybe it was a good thing there was healthy soup to offer Hope. Her being in medicine and all.
“I’m famished,” she said. “I’d love a shower, too, whenever you are all done with the bathroom.”
“Let me check on the kids real quick. If my daughter isn’t using it, it’s yours. I have my own in my room.” He glanced around the place, from living room to kitchen. “Sit wherever you like. I’ll be right back.”
Ben hurried down the hall. Things might not feel so weird if the kids came out. Buffers. He could hear Maddie still puttering in the bathroom at the end of the hall. He cracked open Ryan’s door. Sound asleep, but the telltale gurgling sound of congestion wasn’t good. Please get through the night, buddy.
“Chad?” He crossed the hall and pushed open Chad’s door. The kid had a slightly bigger room than Ryan and Maddie, but Maddie liked the way hers overlooked the backyard and had a window seat. It made sense to set up the inflatable bed in Chad’s room for that reason.
Plus, he wasn’t sure how Maddie would take to a stranger in her room, and nights would get awkward if he went in to check on Ryan and Hope was sleeping there. This way, maybe they could alternate night calls if Ryan was teething or had another ear infection. But even with its extra room, he couldn’t see how those two suitcases were going to fit. He hadn’t even thought about emptying a few of Chad’s dresser drawers, but maybe tomorrow he’d clear the top two that Chad couldn’t get into.
“Daddy!” Chad leaped up from zooming cars along the inflated mattress set in a corner of the room. He hugged Ben’s leg. “I want to sleep on that tonight.”
“Sorry, bud, but remember what I told you about having a visitor? She won’t be able to fit in your car bed.”
“But I like this one,” he said, throwing himself on it and spreading his arms and legs.
“Come say hi. We’ll talk about this later.”
“But—”
“Now, Chad. You can have a snack if you’re still hungry. Come on.”
Chad rolled off the bed and stomped past Ben. Hope was sitting at the breakfast table, digging in her bag.
“Hope, this is Chad.” Good luck with him.
“Hi, Chad,” she said, beaming. She set her bag aside. “How old are you?”
Chad twisted his body around Ben’s right leg and then looped around the left in a figure-eight. Ben picked him up and set him on his feet.
“Say hello to Miss Hope.”
“Hello, Miss Hope. Could you sweep on my car bed?”
Hope kept smiling but gave Ben an inquisitive look.
“I don’t have a guest room. There’s an inflated mattress in Chad’s room he’s taken to. The novelty will wear off soon. I’m sorry it’s not a real bed.”
“It’s no problem.” She leaned her arms on her lap and brought her face closer to Chad’s level. “I think your bed is special just for you, but I don’t mind if you want to take naps on mine in the afternoons.”
“Good luck with that.” Ben chuckled. Her smile widened. She had a really nice smile.
“Are you living with us because my mommy’s body broke?” Chad asked.
Ben’s chest cramped. Hope’s smile faded, and the corners of her eyes creased in sympathy.
“I’m only visiting for a while and helping out because everyone who lives in a house should help out. Right?” Chad grimaced. If she got him to nap and help out more with his own cleanup, she’d be a miracle worker, Ben thought. “And then I’ll go back to my home on the other side of the world,” she said.
Ben nodded and knelt down by Chad. He appreciated that Hope had set the stage, making sure his son knew she’d be leaving. In a planned way. Not unexpected, the way their mom left. The idea of his kids actually getting attached to her hadn’t crossed his mind when her visit was arranged. It was just a few months. But what if they did grow to like her and then lost her? He cursed to himself. Given the new situation, he realized that he really did need to find a new therapist for Maddie.
“Is that where my mommy is? Are you going to trade places again, so my mommy will come back from the other side of the world?”
Hope pressed her fingers against her lips, and her eyes glistened.
“I’m sorry. I said the wrong thing,” she said, shaking her head at Ben.
“No, it’s not you,” he said. God knew, Chad had a way of turning anything Ben said upside down, inside out and backward. He’d been told and had read on the internet about how kids Chad’s age and younger perceived death. How literal they were about everything. Chad often asked when Zoe would be coming back, a question that upset Maddie every time. Ben had started keeping a doorknob pick on his dresser after she began locking her bedroom door when Chad wouldn’t stop asking about their mom.
He ruffled Chad’s hair.
“Hey, buddy. Remember that I told you mommy’s not coming back? She’s not on the other side of the world. She died and went to heaven.”
Chad’s shoulders rose and sank. “Okay. Can I have some pizza? Grandma said it would conti-paste me, even if I pooed the size of a dinosaur when you were gone.”
“Then, I’d say you earned a piece. Grab a seat. You can have a slice, then it’s bedtime.”
Hope’s lips parted as Chad climbed onto the chair next to hers. She was either speechless at how fast Chad switched gears or afraid to say anything more to the kid.
“Let me help you with the pizza,” she said.
“I’m assuming you’d prefer hot soup. Especially after freezing out there. Nina is a great cook. I’m sure it’s excellent. And healthy. So don’t let the fact that we’re eating pizza sway you,” he said, pulling two pizza boxes out of the fridge. He didn’t mind cold pizza for breakfast, but this was dinner. He wanted them hot. He opened a cabinet and grabbed a microwaveable dish.
“My parents always insist on home cooking. It’s probably why I suffer from fast-food rebellion. And for the first time, my parents are too far to hover.” Hope stood at the end of the counter, sucking in her lower lip and gazing at the slices he was placing on a dish.
“You want pizza?” he asked. She was around twenty-five, wasn’t she? And her parents still hovered? His mom had never had time to hover, though he imagined that Zoe’s parents probably had.
Hope crinkled her nose. “I just traveled clear across the planet. Doesn’t that count for earning it?” she said, winking at Chad. “I love pizza. You wouldn’t deny me my first slice on American soil, would you?”
Ben grinned. “You can have as much as you want.”
He took the pot on the stove and popped it into the fridge, then started the microwave.
“I’m going to check on Maddie. Help yourself when it’s ready, just make sure it’s not too hot before Chad digs in,” Ben said.
The bathroom door was ajar, and the light was off in it. He knocked on Maddie’s door. No answer.
“Hey, Mads. There’s pizza if you want. I’m coming in, okay?” He tried giving her privacy, since she was a girl, but sometimes it was tough not knowing whether to let himself in or not. He opened the door slowly, giving her time to shove the door shut if she was dressing. “Mads?”
She was already in bed with her eyes closed. Her bedside lamp was on, but he knew she didn’t like the room totally dark. He touched her forehead. It felt okay. He walked over to her closet, turned the light on, then left its door open. He clicked the lamp off so the light wouldn’t be on her face all night. Homework done or not, he was going to let her stay home tomorrow.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dear Diary,
I wish I didn’t ever have to go to school again. Sara keeps talking about her new puppy. Daddy said no to the one Mommy got. It was supposed to be a present for him staying home. I think he wants to go away.
HOPE COULD NOW add jet lag to her list of worldly experiences. She needed caffeine. The last time she’d made her own coffee, she’d used a French press, not a drip machine like Ben had, but she knew how to follow instructions. She set up the filter and coffee grounds she’d found in the cabinet overhead, then turned on the coffeemaker. To her relief, it gurgled and started to fill. Thank goodness Ben didn’t mind ordering takeout food. Actual cooking was beyond her abilities.
She padded quietly to where one of her suitcases still sat against the wall by the entry. Ben had carried the one that had her clothes and necessities in it to Chad’s room last night. This one would get emptied today. It was mostly filled with gifts Anna and Jack had asked her to take to the kids for them. What weighed it down were the medical texts her father told her she should take along, so that her brain didn’t atrophy.
She got down on her knees, unlocked the suitcase and leaned the upper half back against the wall. Cooing came from a white baby monitor set on the end table next to the couch. Did Ben have another unit in his room? Or did he forget this one here last night?
A blur of orange caught her eye as something—or someone—scurried from the hall and disappeared into the kitchen. Two big eyes spied on her from beh
ind the counter. Hope pretended not to notice and instead began taking gift-wrapped items out and carefully setting them down on the carpet next to her.
“Hmm. I think this present is for the baby, and this one, I was told, had to make it into the hands of the older boy.” She rummaged as if she’d lost something. “Did I forget the present Jack and Anna said was for their niece?”
A little girl Hope knew had to be Maddie inched closer. The pumpkin-dotted hem of her orange nightgown skimmed the floor, and she hugged a stuffed monkey to her chest. Tangled hair framed her delicate face.
“I see I’m not the only one up early,” Hope said. “Good morning. I’m Hope, one of your uncle Jack and auntie Anna’s friends. You must be Maddie.”
The girl gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“I had better find the present they sent you, then. They’d never forgive me.” Hope pulled out the package she knew was Maddie’s and held it out. Maddie got down on the carpet, set her monkey aside and began to unwrap. Her eyes lit up at the wooden keepsake box carved with elephants.
“You like it?” Hope asked. Maddie gave her a silent yes.
The cooing from the monitor turned into a staccato cry. Hope was going to assume that Ben forgot the monitor. They hadn’t really gone over how things would work. How much she’d help versus getting out on her own to enjoy her time here.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said to Maddie. “Those over there are for your brothers, but this—” she held up a larger wrapped package “—has more gifts for all of you in it. Why don’t you open it and take first pick while I go get Ryan?”
Maddie took the second package that Hope knew contained carved wooden African safari animal ornaments. She’d carefully wrapped each one so they wouldn’t break on the trip. She got up and hurried to the baby’s room. Ben’s door across the hall from it was closed.