Fade In

by Mabie, M.

  The door closes.

  My phone vibrates a few minutes later with a text from Ben while I'm getting ready for bed.

  Ben: Be ready at 9. Bring a jacket and wear reasonable shoes.

  I'll be Benny's tomorrow.

  Saturday morning, I wake up feeling much better than the day before. I make myself coffee, and I'm happy to see that I have a few hours before Ben will pick me up.

  I take my time showering and dressing for our day. I choose a pair of skinny jeans and a silk tank top. The weather is supposed to be warm, and with a jacket in tow, I'll be safe for anything. I finish the look off with a pair of suede flats. They are the most sensible footwear I have except for my running shoes. And those are just not happening.

  I drink my coffee and surf the net while listening to morning television. I reply to a few emails for work and finalize some things for Winnie and Cooper's party, approving the proof of the invitation we got back from the printers.

  At a quarter until nine, my phone rings. I see that it's Cooper and I answer. “What's up?”

  “Good morning. What are you doing today?”

  “I'm going with Ben somewhere.”

  “Somewhere? That sounds vague. Where are you going?”

  I know that I don't have to tell him that I don't know, but I sort of want to get his take on it. “I don't know where I'm going, only that I'm leaving at nine, I need a jacket, and it was recommended that I wear sensible—his words, not mine—shoes.”

  “Oh, sounds fun. How's the rib?”

  I expected a bit more pestering from him. “It's much better. I took it pretty easy yesterday.” My wayward thoughts revert back to what I said. “You're not worried that I'm unknowingly going somewhere with a man I've only known for merely a week?” I question, reviewing his best big brother card.

  “No. Not really. I like Ben,” he says rather plainly.

  “You like him? You've only met him, like, once.”

  “You don't like him? I don't get where you're going with this.”

  Men! And this one in particular is confusing the hell out of me.

  “I just thought that you'd have more to say about it is all. He's a great P.A.”

  “And you like him.” This is the badgering ass I was missing? I need to learn to pick my battles more wisely.

  “I like him enough to employ him.” He's going to see right through me. I rinse my coffee cup out and place it in the dishwasher.

  “What else do you like him enough for?” I hear the telltale smooching sound of Winnie in the background.

  “Is Winnie there?”

  I can tell that he moves the phone away from his mouth to talk to her. “Win, she likes Ben and she is wearing sensible shoes.”

  “I don't like him. I mean, I like him. I—” And my other line rings through. “I have to go. Ben's calling on the other line. I'll call you guys later or tomorrow or never again.”

  I hang up, not worried about offending them and answer Ben's call. “Hi.”

  “Good morning. Are you ready?” Am I ready? Every minute I spend with this enigma of a man, I become more and more ready for something, but I just don't know what.

  “Yeah, I'll be right down. Do I need to bring anything?” I look around for something that I'm forgetting.

  “Nope. Did you dress like I said? Comfy shoes?” he nags.

  “Yes, sir. But for the record, all of my shoes are comfy. These shoes are comfy and sensible, I think. They're flats. That's what you meant right?”

  “Right. Just get down here. I have coffee and a bagel for you.”

  Making it down to the lobby in record time and without any clumsy bumps or tumbles, I wave at Phil as I walk out the doors. I find Ben leaning on a jet-black Jeep with hinted windows. The man is wearing loosely fitting jeans and a Muse t-shirt.

  “You like Muse?” I ask, inwardly delighted that he has great taste in music. Bad music can really sour a car ride.

  “Oh yeah. Do you?” A megawatt beam shoots at me.

  “Oooh yeah.”

  He opens the door for me, and I have to do a quick bounce to lift myself into the vehicle. Ben stands close behind, waiting to see if I need help. When I don't, he closes my door and strides around to his side.

  “Is this your Jeep?” I wonder out loud. I think to myself that I've never asked what he drives or if he even had a car.

  “It's mine. I don't get to drive it much here in the city. It's just as easy to walk or take the subway as it is to find a place to park. I love it though.” He flexes his right arm and pumps his fist low. “Tough, huh?”

  “Very tough. So where are we going?” I can't even wait until the damn Jeep is in motion to ask.

  “Pennsylvania. That's all you’re getting from me.”

  “What the hell is in Pennsylvania?” I'm puzzled. “Philly?”

  “Nope. Just sit there and enjoy the ride. Your coffee is hot, you have a bagel and schmear in the bag by your feet, and my iPod is ready to go. Relax and enjoy.”

  “Okay.” I look him straight in the eye and give over a piece of my control to him. What am I in for?

  He starts driving, so I open the bag, and damn, he got the good stuff. My favorite bagel. I like him.

  Wait. I think I pay him to know that.

  “I hope you saved the receipt for the breakfast and all that stuff yesterday, too. You don't need to be buying my meals,” I say with a mouth that's half full.

  He quickly pulls the Jeep into a parking lot and smoothly parks in an available space. He turns the engine off and turns to face me.

  “Okay. We need to get a few things straight for today, Tatum.” Emerald eyes look at me with utmost determination. “Today, I'm not working. Neither are you. Today we are Ben and Tatum, out and about, having a good time. Think of it like a date.”

  “A date?” Is this a date? Hold up. When did I agree to a date? Then again, what could it hurt? It's one day-date.

  “A date. I'm paying. I'm driving. I'm in control. Do you agree or disagree to this arrangement?”

  “No one has ever asked me to go on a date while I'm already on the date.” I can't help but smile and be a little excited that he wants to be on a date with me—and he didn't mind telling me so either.

  “Will this date interfere with our working relationship?” That's the responsible question I needed to ask.

  He shakes his head no.

  “Is this like a friends-buddies kind of date?” My eyebrows rise and I lean forward, trying to gauge where he's at in this whole thing.

  “Not for me, but I can't answer that for you. You don't even have to think about that right now. Just relax and let me show you a good time. Deal?” He says this with such confidence that I'm speechless.

  And not for him? He doesn't want to be my friend or buddy? Then the little dinger-bell goes off in my head with the answer.

  Ding. He likes me.

  I'm in. “Deal.”

  We drive west out of the city. He opts for county highways as opposed to the major thoroughfare. He looks strong and peaceful while driving. The radio has been turned down so far, and now that my bagel is gone and my coffee buzz has set in, I plan to test our musical compatibility. You can learn a lot about someone from the music they listen to, and I am about to see what Benny is into.

  “May I see your iPod, please?” I ask rhetorically as I grab it from the perch it sits on. I scroll through the artists first. He does like the oldies. He's got everything from Sam Cooke to Alice in Chains. I'm very pleased.

  I ask, “Wanna hear anything? I'm taking requests.”

  “Surprise me.”

  I make it my mission. I run across a band when I am browsing by artists but can’t remember what song it is that was so popular until I select them. Remembering how much I loved it, I choose “Got You Where I Want You” by The Flys.

  The single guitar riff begins and I turn it up.

  “Great song.” Ben taps his fingers on the steering wheel to the steady beat. Both of our heads bob in
time to the music. Just as the chorus begins to bellow from the speakers, we both start a second too early with, “Ooooooooh, got you where I want you” and laugh in concert, picking up the lyrics on time the second go-around.

  The song ends and he does a ‘gimme’ gesture with his hand. He takes the player and pulls over onto the side of the road. He jumps out of his door and turns to ask me. “Do you mind if we pull the top off? It's a good day for a topless ride.” He wags his eyebrows.

  Facetious bastard. “By all means, the top has to go.” I know this double entendre well. It sounds like something I would have said. Reaching down to grab my sunglasses and lip gloss, I'm brought back to reality with the thump of my head off the oh-shit handle on the console in front of me.

  Before I can bring my hand into contact with the smarting spot on my head, he's there by me with an ‘ouch’ face, gently rubbing the spot back and forth. I'm busted and busted.

  “Yeah. My bad,” I confess, biting my lip as a distraction from my newest injury. “At least it's out of the way now. I do that about once a day. I'm a klutz.” I know that sweeping this under the rug won't work, but it comes as second nature for me to play it off that way.

  “Got you good, didn't it?” Ben’s mouth closes in on my forehead and I fossilize in my seat. His lips are warm and soft as they affix to my thumping skull.

  These kinds of kisses really are magic. They're “all-better kisses.” I think the healing powers come from endorphins that kick in from the sheer knowledge of someone's pure affection for you. I try to memorize the feeling. My close-paid attention individually registers first his top lip pulling away while his lower lips stays stuck to my bruised skin for just a few seconds longer.

  With the pads of his longest fingers, he touches under my chin to lift my eyes to his. “Better?”

  I can only nod my head. This is an official swoon. I'm not sure if it's the mild concussion I might have given myself or the tidal wave of emotions dizzying me.

  Ben gets into the driver's seat after stowing the Jeep's soft top. We set forward and he hands me the player again. “Just hit play,” he instructs. I hit the center button and let song after song soothe my confused mind.

  As we drive, I see more and more primitive-looking buildings and vehicles. We pass a real-life horse and buggy at one point because the traffic was forming a long line behind us.

  Finally, he turns us down a long lane that hosts trees on both sides. It is a beautiful sight. Straight in front of us and going on for at least a half-mile, the trees are in bloom, and I can smell the sweet blossoms with every deep breath.

  “Where are we? Is this it? It's so pretty, Ben.” I look back and forth from him to the way and back again.

  “We're almost there. Just around this corner.” Ben alternates between watching me and the road. He sighs, “There's that smile.” Ben puts his hand on my leg and runs his thumb back and forth as we round the last curve into a parking lot.

  He's so affectionate, and I'm not used to this. Any of this. I might go into shock.

  We walk up to a white building with a long wraparound porch covered in rocking chairs. I read the signs and realize where we’re at.

  “Welcome to No Diamond Cave,” a round little man says from around the counter. “What can I do for you two today?” He smiles, lifting his arms like he'd gladly give us the whole wide world.

  “We'd like to see the cave,” Ben answers. “Is it open?”

  “Well, the cave is actually without power right now. I have a service man around to fix it, but he had to run to town to get some things. If you'd like to wait a bit, I'm sure he'll sort it out.”

  Ben looks to me to see what I think, and I shrug a noncommittal whatever. Ben tells him that we're fine waiting and asks if there's still a little restaurant.

  After being pointed in the right direction, we are seated in a tiny little diner near a window that overlooks a beautiful valley.

  “It's so pretty here. Thanks for bringing me.”

  “I'm glad you like it. I think you'll like the cave too. I came here as a kid once, and for some reason it just sounded like a good drive.”

  “Well, Mr. Harris, this date”—I drag out the word so he knows that I know what we're doing—”is very original. No one has ever taken me out of the city on a date. I like it.”

  Pleased because I am, Ben leans towards me in the seat and whispers, “I prefer Benny to Mr. Harris.”

  “Really? I'll make note of that. So you were little when you came here, huh? Is it the same?”

  “I think so. I was only about five or six when my Moo...grandma and grandpa brought me.” He catches himself, but not soon enough.

  “Again, Moo-Moo? I like her already. Tell me where is this Moo-Moo you speak so fondly of?” Instantly, I'm praying that she's still alive. I shouldn't have been such a dope. It's very likely that grandparents of grandchildren our age aren't still above dirt.

  “She lives in a retirement home north of the city. She loves it there. She's pretty happy I think. I try to visit when I can.”

  “That's nice. Do your parents visit her, too?”

  “They do. It's just not as easy for them. Sometimes we go together.” It probably would be hard seeing your mother getting older and having to think about a loved one's mortality.

  “It sounds like you spent a lot of time with her when you were growing up. She must be great.” My mouth stops just before I say something that I need to keep to myself. Something exactly like, I'd love to meet her sometime.

  “I did. My grandparents were always very close by when I was little.” The tension in his face leaves almost completely when he's speaking about his Moo-Moo. It's irresistible.

  “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

  “A brother. Eight years older. I guess they knew they could do better,” he kids.

  He's so different today. Forthright and open. I really like this side of Ben Harris.

  After his last comment, he pretends to be arrogant as he stretches his arms up and grandly lands them on the top of the booth seat on either side of his body. Spread out like that, he looks huge. I take my time cataloging every minute detail. The definition of his pecks and the spattering of reddish-blond hair that's peeking out from his jeans. The long ridge that symmetrically runs along the bicep on each arm. It's the perfect time of day, and the light through the window makes his skin glow. It's quite the sight.

  One I hope to never forget.

  We order sandwiches and fries. We’re in no hurry or rush. He's thoughtful and asks me about everything. It isn't so much the things he wants to know that grab my attention. It's more the way he listens.

  I really think he likes me.

  “I hope we get to go inside the cave. I've never been in one before,” I admit. This is mostly true. Honestly, if anyone would have suggested I go to a cave before, I would have thanked them to fuck off. I'm nearly blind. A cave isn't really the safest place for me. But being with Ben makes it seem different. It doesn't seem so daunting. It feels like an adventure. I'm not that scared.

  “We will. If they don't get the power on, I'll see if we can take some lanterns in. I kind of hope that the power says off.” Ben's face beams with excitement.

  I look at him like he's insane. “Are you sure that's safe? I mean, if the lanterns went out, we'd be in complete darkness. We should wait.” Okay, now I'm a little apprehensive.

  “Don't you trust me? I'm a guy. My sense of direction is unparalleled. You'll be safe. Promise.” I know he's already decided that were going in, so there isn't any use in protesting.

  “I trust you. I think.” I try to smile, but I'm certain it looks more like I'm going number two.

  “I'm going to go see how it's going with the power and see if we can go in anyway. I'll be right back.” Slapping the table top, Ben gets up in search of the jolly round man.

  I hit the ladies’ room before we trek into the cave in the dark. It'd be a shame to piss my pants on a first date.

  Ben someh
ow convinces the guy to let us go in. We sign a waiver releasing him from liability or whatever. That was a big flag for me, but Ben just rubbed his hands together like a mad man, laughing at my nervousness.

  Before I know it, we're walking into a dark cave with only a lantern to light the way. Immediately, I feel a little apprehensive. The temperature is drastically cooler than outside no more than a few feet from the entrance. It’s quiet and still, and it smells earthy.

  I follow behind him as he walks us into the main entrance, and he stops before the path turns to stairs for a rapid descent into God only knows what.

  “Are there bats in here, Ben?” I should have worn a turtle neck. Something about knowing that they could be lurking around in the shadows gives me the creeps.

  “I'm sure there are, but I don't think they'll bother us. We're too big. They can see us.” I can only see a little ways head of him where the light from the lantern washes the ground. “Tatum, are you honestly scared?”

  “I don't know. It's just really dark now that we're in here. I don't know if I want to go without the power on.” I can feel my heart beginning to race and my senses go on high alert.

  “What are you feeling?” He never bullshits.

  “Nervous, I guess.”

  “What is making you nervous? Is it the bats?”

  “I don't know. I think it's because I can't see where I'm going.”

  “Neither can I. Here, hold my hand. We're on equal footing in here. I can't see much either.” His protective hand is a small comfort, and my fingers lace with his as he pulls me a little closer.

  When he sets the lantern down at our feet, our bodies make a shadow on the cave's wall behind him. It looks romantic—a man and a woman holding hands and looking at each other. Ben's other hand frames my face.

  “It's dark in here, but nothing in here will hurt us. We just have to relax and use our senses. Our bodies are made to make up for what we can't see. What can you hear?”

  This is a lesson. I'm so stupid. He doesn't like me—he wants to train me. What a foolish girl I am.

  My carefree mood is soured. I say, being short with him, “I hear water.” Then I think, To hell with that. I'll tell him what I think about it. “I thought this was a date. I'm not that scared anymore. Let's just get this over with.”