by Debbie Burns
Ben heard a flush and splash of water from the opposite end of the small house; then a familiar golden-haired head popped around the corner. “Ben!” Clad only in a long-sleeved pajama top and Spider-Man underwear, Ollie charged down the length of the living room and locked Ben in a bear hug around the waist. A dog, a hefty-set Lab that Mia must have been fostering for the night, trotted over and sniffed his shoes and pants with hesitant curiosity, a slow pump to its tail.
“Hey, buddy!” Mia reached for the bakery bag that Ben held out. After she relieved him of it and both hands were free, he scooped Ollie into the air and held him high overhead, sending Ollie into a familiar fit of laughter. Ben knew Ollie’s emotions ran the gamut since losing his father, and it was good to see him in a moment of easy bliss again. “How’s it going, little man? You’re getting so big, pretty soon I’m going to be wearing you when I do this.”
His godson had Mia’s face shape and her smile, but the rest of him was all seven-year-old boy.
“I don’t care if you wear me.” Ollie locked his arms around Ben’s head and laughed some more. “I’ll be a hat, and you can wear me all day.”
“Something tells me you’d be the squirmiest hat I’ve ever worn.”
Mia joined in, tickling Ollie’s exposed belly. “I think Ben would need the world’s best chiropractor if he wore your wiggly body all day, Ol.”
“So who’s this?” Ben asked when he set Ollie down.
“Clara Bee. She’s been at the shelter for a couple months. She’s pending adoption, and this is a bit of a home-living test before she goes out at the end of the week. She was featured in the last newsletter. She’s got quite the story.”
Ben held out his hand, and Clara Bee gave him a tentative lick. He sank to the balls of his feet and, when she didn’t shy away, gave her a thorough scratch under the chin, burying his fingers in her soft, golden fur. “Clara Bee, huh? After Clara Barton, right? Yeah, I remember reading about her.”
She was a middle-aged dog who’d been living in subpar conditions and had had litter after litter before being taken from her home and brought into the shelter. She’d needed hip surgery but had come through it fine.
As if in thanks for the scratch, Clara Bee pressed in and swiped her tongue over Ben’s ear. He’d never have guessed she’d had very limited human interaction for the majority of her life. Dogs, Ben figured, were simply hardwired to be good companions. He’d seen that in places like Nepal where most dogs were either free-roaming or strays. Even with minimal care and food, their bond with humans was inspiring.
“Thank goodness for the shelter, huh?”
As Mia agreed, Ollie lifted the brown paper bag from her hands and peeked inside. “Yes!” With his free hand, he rubbed his stomach vigorously, sending his pajama shirt up and exposing his trim belly and bony ribs.
Ben chuckled and stood up. “Did you eat yet?”
“I was just trying to get him to the table,” Mia said. She gave Ben a hopeful glance. “But this certainly is more enticing than a soggy bowl of cereal. Can you stay?”
“For a little while. What time do you head out with him?”
She turned to check the kitchen clock. “Twenty minutes or so.” A hint of her flush returned when she met Ben’s gaze again. “I’m glad you came by. And I’m good if we’re a few minutes late. It’s not like they’ll stick him in lockdown.”
“Oh, can we be late? Please can we be late?” Ollie looked from his mom to Ben. “I hate journal time.”
“How about instead you make quick work of this breakfast, and I drive you to school but try to get you there on time?” Ben said.
Ollie’s eyes opened wide, and he dashed to the window. “You’re in the Jeep. Sweet! Mom, please can he drive me? Please?”
Mia laughed and shook her head. “That’s fine by me.” She took a step toward the kitchen, then stopped and glanced downward, drawing Ben’s attention toward the body he’d been doing his best not to notice. “You guys start without me. I’ll throw on some clothes.”
The flannel gown she was wearing was unbuttoned just to the point that it accented the rise of her breasts, and her fuzzy socks highlighted her toned, smooth calves.
“Ol, show him where the plates are, ’kay?”
“Come on, Ben,” Ollie said, heading for the kitchen. “Do you like coffee or orange juice? My mom likes coffee, and I like orange juice. But I only get to have it if I also drink a glass of water.”
Clara Bee followed Ollie into the kitchen, sniffing the bag of bakery items in his hand. Ben trailed along behind them, very glad he’d listened to his instincts and stopped by. It felt a bit like old times, when everything was easy between them, only it was different too. It was a new road, a new path they were blazing, one that was somehow as familiar as it was foreign.
And Ben was more than ready to head farther down it.
* * *
Mia stepped out of the shower and was sliding the glass door closed when her phone beeped from the bedroom. After knotting her hair in a towel and tying a second towel around her torso, she headed over to the dresser to check the new text.
Clara Bee hopped off Mia’s bed and trailed behind her, tentatively licking the back of one still-wet calf.
Ollie had been begging for a puppy for Christmas, but Mia was secretly hoping he’d fall in love with one of the adult foster dogs they’d been bringing home each weekend. She had a feeling he might’ve with this sweet girl, had there not already been a family ready to bring her home sometime this weekend.
Having reached the dresser, Mia swiped her hands across the front of her towel and lifted her phone. Ben. She’d hoped the text was from him.
Made it with 2 minutes to spare.
Her hands froze over the digital keypad. A handful of unworthy replies swam through her head. Why was coming up with a response so difficult?
Great. Thanks!
She groaned. He’d dropped off a delicious breakfast and driven his godson to school, not delivered the mail.
Thanks for the food and for coming by.
Still too generic, and you know it. Unsure what else to say, she shot off the text anyway.
Before this summer, it had been easy to talk to Ben, easy to be in the same room with him without blushing. He was Ollie’s godfather, and he’d helped her keep Brad together during the harder times in her marriage. She’d counted on him in a hundred different ways.
And he’d never let her down.
Anytime. It was good to see Ollie. Good to see you too.
It was good to see her. Mia’s heart thumped in her chest. Did he remember that night on his balcony? She’d hardly seen him since then, and whenever she did—like this morning—she could feel her cheeks burning hot.
As if Mia’s indecision was palpable, Clara Bee paused her licking to glance up at her. Mia scratched the top of Bee’s head, then turned back at her phone.
Good to see you as well.
She was about to say “thanks again” when another text arrived.
That’s good. Because I’ve decided to take a more proactive approach to overcome your resistance to help.
Mia bit her lip as a smile spread across her face.
Hmm, if this proactive approach comes with spinach-and-fontina mini-quiche, I’m good with that.
She debated adding a wink back but turned it into a regular smiley face instead.
So I had you at quiche, huh? Well, I’m good with that.
“I think this is Ben fixing things,” she said aloud, laughing. Clara Bee pricked her ears and cocked her head. “Thank goodness, because I didn’t know how to do it.”
Mia thanked him again for driving Ollie to school and set her phone down to get dressed. Ben wasn’t to blame for the awkwardness that had been between them the last four months. She was.
The team at his firm had held a surprise party at Ben
’s downtown loft on his return from Everest. It had been a remarkable night and a late one. Ben didn’t crave being the center of attention, but when he’d realized there was no way around it—he’d summited Everest and his friends wanted more than the single picture and snippet of information he’d posted on Instagram each day—he regaled his guests with some of the wilder things that had happened up there. One story, about Ben’s ladder slipping from under him and him hanging over an impossibly deep crevasse until he could be pulled up by his team, had shaken Mia to the core.
She’d stepped out onto the balcony after getting Ollie to sleep on Ben’s bed and sucked in a deep breath of summer night air. The party had continued in the main loft, but out there she could no longer hear Brad’s voice booming across the room, and she willed the silence to soak into her pores. She’d stared out at the night skyline, contemplating the impending end of her marriage.
She hadn’t been in love with Brad for a long time. It was just so much more obvious to her when she was around Ben. She wanted a chance to love someone who was whole and complete and wouldn’t drain the energy out of her. And even though she’d never seen him in a committed relationship, it was obvious Ben could be that for someone.
And a part of her she’d done her best to ignore had wanted that someone to be her.
The first time she’d met Ben, she’d been pregnant with Ollie. She and Brad had recently eloped, and Mia had already been questioning the impromptu decision. Her internal reaction at meeting Ben had been something akin to “Holy crap,” and she’d attempted to quell it. Most of the time, it worked. He was a friend and Ollie’s godparent.
But the night of the party, hearing his stories and spying the windburn still noticeable on his cheeks, her feelings had been impossible to ignore. When she’d noticed the light frostbite scars on his fingers, she’d wanted to close her hand around his and not let go.
She’d been thinking all these things on the balcony of his loft as she stared out into the night at the beautiful silhouette of the city. And then Ben had joined her, and it had just been the two of them for the first time in forever, and Mia could feel the wildness of the mountain still seeping off him.
They’d been talking, their voices low and intimate. And Mia had ruined it. She could tell herself a hundred times that her actions had been innocent. All she’d done was brush her fingertips over his lips—and maybe lean in a fraction of an inch—but she couldn’t block the truth from her awareness. It had been a lover’s touch. Intimate and telling, and Ben had understood.
After a wild second in which Mia’s breath had caught in her throat in anticipation of a kiss, he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. Mia had done her best to avoid him after that. It wasn’t hard because a little over a month later, she’d walked out on her marriage.
Ever since then, her cheeks had flushed hot almost every time she found herself in the same room with him.
But it was time to let that go. However mixed up her feelings were for Ben, he was still Ollie’s godfather, and Ollie needed him. Especially now. The truth was, she needed him too. There was no sense refusing the friendship he was so ready to offer just to avoid a bit of embarrassment on her part.
Mia had tugged on a pair of jeans and was fastening her bra when Clara Bee leaned in against Mia’s leg. Bee was a leaner, and whenever Mia was the recipient of the loyal dog’s leaning, it made her smile. Dogs only leaned against people they trusted. Bee had only been at the house for two nights, but Mia was going to miss her.
After she finished dressing, Mia headed into the kitchen and jotted down a short but imperative list of to-dos, stroking the smooth, silky fur at the top of Bee’s forehead as she did. She tapped the eraser on the table, attempting to recall all the things she’d remembered in the middle of the night that needed her attention. The first item to make the list was to get back to her and Brad’s house on Maryland Avenue in the Central West End. Among other things, Mia needed to go through the bills.
For the last few weeks, her thoughts had been too foggy to think about money. Mia had put her career on hold to raise Ollie—and to help keep Brad on track—though she’d contributed to their income some with sales from her pet portraits. Their joint savings were slim, and for the most part, they’d lived on a tight budget.
Mia next jotted down half-a-dozen other items she’d left behind when she moved out four months ago. Back then, she hadn’t bothered to go through the tubs of winter clothes, but it was more than time to do so. She hoped Ollie’s snowsuit still fit. He’d been swimming in it last winter, but with the way he was growing, there was no telling until he tried it on.
The final item to make the Post-it note to-do list was a single word, but also the biggest and most important of all.
Decide
It stared up at her, giant and daunting.
Clara Bee seemed to sense the hesitation sweeping over Mia and leaned against her leg more heavily. After giving the Lab a reassuring pat, Mia broke a piece from the last mini-quiche, popped a chunk into her mouth, and let out a small moan of appreciation. The rich and creamy quiche was probably one of Mia’s favorite foods ever. She savored the last of it, determined not to think about the big decision awaiting her or about how the delicious quiche made her mouth water a bit like it had this summer on Ben’s balcony when every part of her had craved to know the taste of his lips.
Finally, she stood up and shook her shoulders, trying to shake away her thoughts. “Want to go for a ride, Bee?”
Clara Bee wagged her tail and followed Mia around as she got ready to leave. After they were loaded into the car, autopilot kicked in as Mia headed to the ninety-year-old home she’d shared with Brad and Ollie since the week before Ollie’s first birthday. She’d been back only a couple of times since she’d left, and they’d been quick trips like this one to pick up a few things.
She parked directly out front and looked up and down the block, bracing herself. She wasn’t ready for the neighbors’ questions or awkward silences or sympathy.
When the street proved empty and quiet, she released a breath of relief. Bee shoved the front half of her body between the bucket seats and brushed her warm tongue over the side of Mia’s neck.
Mia shut off the car but didn’t move. The bare, gently swaying branches of the stately sycamore reflected in the lower-floor windows, resembling a thick pair of eyelashes, blinking a hello in the gray December morning.
“We won’t be in there long, sweet girl.” Who are you consoling? Bee won’t be greeting any old ghosts when she walks inside.
Mia’s attention was drawn to the ivy on the east corner. It was starting to grow up the side again. Like a hundred other chores, keeping the ivy from climbing the brick had been Mia’s responsibility. She’d tried to remove it several times, but it had grown back fast and thick. Mia had finally decided the ivy had a stronger will to live than she did to kill it. She’d hacked away at it every few months, and in her recent absence, the mighty dark-green leaves had made steady progress up the side and front of the house.
Mia closed her eyes and tried to envision the next few months playing out. Should she keep the house, move her and Ollie back in, and convince her mother to put her parents’ house up for sale? For the last three weeks, her thoughts had circled with no resolution. But it was time to decide.
For certain, Ollie’s best memories of his dad were here, and to be fair, Ollie probably had a lot of them. He’d been too young to have been exposed to the darker things: irrationality and wild impulsivity; credit cards that had been maxed out before she’d even known they’d been applied for; Brad’s anger at himself. Anger at her. Anger at the world.
And now his dad was gone.
Mia sucked in a breath and tumbled out of the car and into the brisk December morning. She zipped her coat all the way to her chin as if it were a shield.
Bee didn’t need any coaxing to hop down from the back. Once
out, the sweet dog pumped her tail hard enough that her hips waggled, and she stared up at Mia if asking “What now?”
“I’m so glad you’re with me, girl. It would suck to do this alone.”
She headed up the concrete path to the covered porch where Ollie had cuddled on her lap and watched the storms roll in when he was little.
Victor and Irene had offered to work something out that would enable her to stay here, insisting it would be best for Ollie. A generous gift from Brad’s parents had enabled them to put a sizable payment down when they bought this place.
But Mia couldn’t help but think that if she took this level of help from them, she’d lose a piece of herself. She’d left this place and had had no intention of coming back.
She unlocked the bolt on the front door and let herself in, then kicked off her shoes. She kept the coat on, but the chill from the hardwood floors seeped up through her socks. Someone had turned the thermostat quite low, and there was a pile of mail nicely stacked on the kitchen table.
Clara Bee didn’t seem to notice the chill. Once Mia unclipped her leash, she trotted around, exploring the rooms on the lower floor, the sound of her nails echoing in Mia’s ears.
Who’d come here after getting the news, Mia wondered. Something told her it was probably Ben and not Victor or Irene. Whenever they went out of their way to do something, they made sure she knew about it. Her heart went out to think of Ben and all the things he’d silently been doing to help out even when she’d been putting him off.
She made quick work of grabbing the tub of winter wear from the basement, then headed up the stairs to her and Brad’s bedroom. Bee followed her, trailing just behind Mia’s heels.
As she crested the top step and headed down the hall, Mia realized she was an interloper here now. Every room greeted her with a collection of memories of a life she’d wanted to leave behind.
Even if Mia was set on moving herself and Ollie back in, even if the good memories here outweighed the bad, she didn’t want to be indebted to Victor and Irene. She needed to sell the house and hope the leftover money minus real estate commissions would pay off both the first and second mortgage.