“I don’t see any pictures of me in this house,” she said, disappointed. “It’s a miracle that Jacob even knows I’m his grandmother. You would think that Agnes is the only one who exists.” She turned her attention towards a photo of Jacob. “That child needs Jesus in his life now more than ever, and I’m afraid he’s just not going to get the guidance he needs now.”
“Stop it,” Ben said sternly.
“Stop what? Speaking the truth?”
“You already made a scene at the funeral home. Spare us your drivel. Don’t start anything here.”
“Made a scene?” She looked surprised. “Oh, that’s ridiculous. You’re just afraid of the truth, Son. I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Mother, has it occurred to you that your only daughter is gone? Have you stopped for one moment to think about what that means?” He moved closer and looked directly into her eyes. “Rachel’s dead. That was her funeral we were just at. We were supposed to honor her life, which ended tragically, by the way. It’s a tragedy. Only in your twisted head, it’s somehow a time to celebrate. Instead of honoring her, you went up in front of all those—” He gestured towards the guests in the next room. “These people, and spoke only of yourself. You have got to be the most narcissistic person I know.”
She glared at him and pointed her chubby finger at his face. “And where were you when your sister needed you? Oh, that’s right, you were thousands of miles away, running, always running when things get tough. You ran away from us, from your past—why? To start another life somewhere too far for us to wreck it? You can’t run away from yourself, Benjamin.”
Ben winced and felt his blood pressure rise. He wanted to slap her. “Shut up,” he said, hate in his eyes.
Barbara stood up as straight as a board. “You have no right to speak to me that way. You should have more respect. I raised you and sacrificed for you and Rachel all my life. I only wanted the best, but you’re just like him,” she glanced at the ceiling, “your father. He never cared about me. He only cared about drinking and chasing after whores, and … and now both my husband and my daughter leave me…”
“Stop it! There you go again. For Christ’s sake, this is not about you!” His voice became louder and more forceful.
“Don’t you ever take the Lord’s name in vain,” she said, gripping her Bible.
He paused and placed his hand on the back of a dining chair. “You know what? Maybe on some level this is about you.” He leaned in a little closer to her. He could smell her heavy, nauseating perfume. “Have you ever wondered what the common denominator is between Rachel and Dad?”
“Don’t you even think about blaming me for their weaknesses. I was the only one who tried to save them,” she spit out as she glared up at him.
“Save them?” he scoffed. “You drove us all crazy with your fanatical, biblical ranting. You continually belittled my father. You never let him be a man. It’s no wonder he left you.”
“Ha! Look who’s talking about being a man.” She pointed right at him. “You wouldn’t know a man if he walked up and slapped you in the face. Don’t think I don’t know about your little boyfriends. The Bible says homosexuality is a sin. I’ve told you over and over again, if you don’t change your ways, you’ll end up burning in Hell.”
“Well, if Heaven is full of people like you, then I’d much prefer to live it up with Lucifer himself. He’s supposed to be incredibly handsome, you know.” He was slurring his words now.
“You think you’re so clever. But, you’re a fool. What good are all your fancy degrees if you can’t even see the simple truth right in front of you? If anyone is responsible for your father’s death, it’s you, not me. He was ashamed of your life choices.”
“I was fourteen!” he shouted at her. “What ‘life choices’? I hardly think he knew about my sexual orientation; and of course I wasn’t acting on it! How could I? You would have chastised me to no end.”
“I will continue to pray for you, no matter how much you disrespect me. You need to be exorcised. I have a prayer group that can pray over you.”
“And I know a shrink that can help you,” he shot back, and took another swig of his wine.
“Keep your voice down. You’re the one who’s making a scene,” Barbara said angrily.
Ben suddenly became aware of how the house had fallen quiet. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Elena was now standing at the entrance to the dining room.
He turned back to face Barbara, closed his eyes, feeling dizzy. “Frankly, Mother, I couldn’t care less.”
“You’re drunk,” she said flatly.
“How perceptive of you,” he said, swaying slightly from side to side.
“Ben, would you like some coffee?” Elena asked, obviously attempting to cut the tension in the air. He ignored the question.
“I have nothing else to say to you. I’m leaving.” Barbara said to Ben and then retrieved her purse from a chair and started walking towards the front door.
Ben stood up straight and held up his wine glass in her direction. “Cheers.”
“Mrs. Mosley, wait …” Elena put her cup of coffee down on the table. She carefully maneuvered around Ben and followed Barbara to the door.
“Let her go. She’s not really here for Rachel anyway,” Ben said solemnly and drank the last bit of wine he had left.
Barbara slammed the door behind her before Elena could stop her from leaving. The house became still, with only the sound of low murmurs from the other room.
Elena turned around and looked at Ben, her brow stern. “For better or worse, Ben, she’s still your mother. You shouldn’t let her go like that.”
The murmuring stopped and the house fell completely silent. Ben realized the guests were probably waiting to see what he would do. “Fine,” he said. He put his glass down on the table and went after Barbara. Elena followed.
There was now a wispy drizzle in the air. Parked cars filled the driveway and both sides of the street. Ben saw his mother on the sidewalk, where she stopped in front of her white sedan. Ben knew it had a Christian fish symbol on the back window, and prominently displayed on the bumper, a “honk if you love Jesus” decal and another that read “Jesus is My Co-Pilot.”
“Mrs. Mosley, please wait!” Elena yelled. Ben was in no hurry and was now walking a few yards behind her as they approached his mother.
Barbara stood erect and expectant when he reached her. Both Barbara and Elena were now looking at Ben, waiting for him to speak. He wasn’t sure what they wanted him to say, but he certainly wasn’t going to apologize. Then Elena’s eyes turned pleading.
“It got out of hand,” was all he could manage to get out. His head was spinning a little from the wine, but the cold, misty air helped him focus. Barbara crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted more. Elena followed Barbara’s lead and looked at Ben with the same intensity. “We’re just too different,” he continued. “We’re not good for each other. You have a knack for bringing out the worst in me, as I’m sure I do for you. It’s better that I’m not here.”
There was a long silence, after which Barbara sighed and shook her head. “Benjamin, for once in your life, just listen to me. Stop running away. Turn your life over to Jesus before it’s too late. Trust me. I know what it’s like to live without a compass. I was a sinner, too, before I found Him.” She looked up at the heavens. “Your father and I had been married a little over a year when—”
“Yes, Mother, I know,” Ben interrupted, agitated again. “You’ve told me at least a million times. He was drunk, you drove, you got in an accident, nearly died, but Jesus, sweet, forgiving Jesus, gave you another chance. And now you only live for Him,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Barbara’s face fell and her shoulders slouched forward. “Yes, you know that. But here’s what you don’t know, Mr. College Professor.” She glanced at Elena and hesitated, then she looked back at Ben. “I happened to be drunk, too.” Ben’s eyes widened slightly. When he didn’t respond, s
he went on. “That’s right. I used to drink as much, maybe even more, than your father did. We were into a lot of bad things back then, a couple of bumbling boozers living by the seat of our pants. But that night, I thought I could drive. Your father was so liquored up, he could hardly stand, so I insisted on it. Then I blacked out and ran the truck straight into a concrete pillar.” Ben was skeptical, but gave his mother his full attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard her voice sound this remorseful.
“So that’s why you stopped drinking?” he asked flatly.
“Yes, that and …” She paused and cleared her throat. “I was seven months pregnant.” Her face hardened.
Ben twisted his brow. “What?”
Barbara swallowed. “The baby died. You should have had an older brother. He would have been forty-three this year.”
Ben tensed. He didn’t know what to think. He was about to ask her why she hadn’t told him before, but he remained silent because he already knew. Elena stood motionless with her eyes cast downward.
“So now you know. And even if you can’t see it, we’re not as different as you think.” She opened the door and got into her car. She looked back at him before turning the ignition. “I’ll continue to pray for you, and hopefully you’ll change your ways before it’s too late.”
Elena closed the door behind her. She went to stand by Ben’s side and gently placed her hand on his back. They watched Barbara drive away, ignoring the fat raindrops that were now falling around them.
TWO
BEN SPENT THE NEXT DAY with Agnes, entertaining Jacob and trying to do whatever he could to keep his mind off Rachel’s death. They visited the Children’s Museum, went for a train ride at City Park, and ended up at a pizza parlor on South Congress for dinner and ice cream. On Monday, Ben went to Rachel’s office with Edward to help him pack her things for storage. It was late Monday evening when Ben sat down to listen to his voicemail. He had left his cell to charge in the morning, but had forgotten about it and didn’t get back to his room until after dinner. His head hurt. He had twenty-eight missed calls and eighteen messages. He slipped off his shoes and scooted back against the bed’s headboard. He took one of his books out of his bag and started jotting down notes on a blank page. Most of the calls were from colleagues at the college and friends who didn’t know he had been on a cruise. He erased each message after he heard it and only took notes on the few calls he planned to return.
He had gone through almost fifteen messages when he heard his sister’s voice on the line. He immediately sat up straight in bed. He held his breath as he listened to her intently. The connection was bad. While it was interlaced with static, Ben could tell she sounded frazzled.
Ben … me. I hope you get thi … oon. I’m on my way to Elena … tell her everything … turn … th … astard … fish this … ime …
Ben sat motionless for a moment, then replayed the message, and replayed it again, and again. He checked the time the call came in: eleven-thirty-eight a.m., the previous Monday. The day she died. She was on her way to Elena’s condominium to tell her about Jack, Ben thought. But why? Did she say the bastard was selfish? He played the message again. He could make out the word “bastard” and what he thought must be “selfish,” but he couldn’t really make out what she was actually saying. He recognized that Rachel must have gone over to Elena’s to confess her infidelity with Jack. Ben tried to make sense of the timeline. He just couldn’t believe that Rachel could go from anger to complete despair within such a short period of time. Something or someone must have caused her to jump. It was the only logical explanation. He listened to the message again and wondered what he should do with this information. He started pacing the room. Should he go to the police? Should he go straight to Elena’s and confront Jack directly? Should he tell Edward? After thinking for a moment, he decided the first thing he needed to do was tell Edward. He knew that by telling Edward about the message he was going to have to tell him about Rachel having sex with Jack, but under the circumstances, it had to be done. The message made it clear that she had been upset with Jack. He must have done something to drive her to the point of risking everything. Ben had to tell Edward.
Ben walked downstairs and into the living room. Edward and Agnes were sitting on the couch watching Jacob play with his toy trucks on the floor in front of them.
Agnes turned to Ben. “Do you want me to make some tea?” He nodded his head in agreement, and she got up and made her way to the kitchen.
“Uncle Ben, will you read me a book before I go to bed?” Jacob asked.
“Sure, buddy. Let’s go put on your pajamas and brush your teeth. I’ll read you a book and then I’ll have some tea with Daddy,” he said, looking at Edward, but he wasn’t paying much attention, only staring off into space.
Ben picked up Jacob and carried him upstairs, then helped him get ready for bed.
Sitting by Jacob’s bed, reading him Green Eggs and Ham, Jacob abruptly asked, “Uncle Ben, what happens when you go to Heaven?“
Ben let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Jacob, but they say it’s a nice place to be.”
“Can Mommy see me right now?”
“I don’t know. I think so. I do know she loves you and misses you very much. And you know what?” Jacob looked at him expectantly with his big, brown, sad eyes. “She’s inside you.” Ben tapped Jacob’s chest with his index finger. “She’ll always be part of you. I see her every time I look at you.”
“Really? She’s inside me?”
“Yes.” He got up, tucked Jacob in and then gave him a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, buddy.”
“Goodnight, Uncle Ben.”
Ben turned off the light and left the door slightly open. He had a lump in his throat and an ache in his heart.
He passed Agnes on the stairs. “Goodnight, dear,” she said. “I’m going to try to get to sleep early tonight. I don’t think anyone’s been able to get much rest around here.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Richards.”
Downstairs, Edward sat at the kitchen table in the same chair he had sat in every single night Ben had been there, every night since Rachel died. It had become his usual place to sulk. Ben poured himself a cup of tea and went to sit by him. Edward didn’t move. It was as if he hadn’t noticed that Ben was there at all. There was a small plastic bag on the table with some jewelry inside. Edward was playing with an earring in his hand.
“Is that Rachel’s?” Ben asked gesturing towards the earring.
Edward nodded. “That’s what she had on her body when they found her.” He motioned to the plastic bag. “It’s her wedding ring, her wrist watch and this earring. They couldn’t find the other one. They said with the impact she suffered, it could have gone anywhere.”
Ben tried to shake off the image of Rachel’s body slamming into the concrete. “Edward, I have something I need to tell you,” Ben said flatly, as he stared straight down at his mug.
“What’s on your mind?” Edward asked calmly, gradually looking over to his brother-in-law.
There was a long pause. Ben could hear the ticking of clock hanging in the kitchen.
“Let me preface this by saying that I didn’t ever want you to know what I’m about to confide, and the only reason I’m telling you now is because I think it might have bearing on Rachel’s death.”
“Okay,” Edward said, straightening his back. “So you now have my attention.”
Ben looked up from his mug and directly at Edward. “Do you remember the night we all went out to that Mexican restaurant a couple of days before Elena’s wedding? The night Elena got called out to the clinic and you went to help her with the pregnant woman?”
Edward pressed his lips together and nodded his head.
“Jack drove Rachel home.” Ben hesitated.
“Yes …” Edward looked puzzled. “And?”
Ben took a deep breath. “They had sex.”
Edward tilted his head to the side, squinting his eyes as he considered Ben. �
�Excuse me?”
“Rachel told me at the wedding that they were drunk and one thing led to another and they had sex. She wanted to tell you, she wanted to tell Elena, but I told her not to.”
Edward’s face flushed red. He grit his teeth. “Bullshit.”
“Ed, why would I make this up? I assure you, she felt horrible about it. I’m sure you noticed how odd her behavior was after the wedding.”
Edward’s eyes danced around the table. He seemed to be putting things together in his head. Rachel’s quiet anguish, Jack’s chatty condolences. “That son of a bitch.” He got up from his chair and walked into the kitchen. Then he turned around and walked back to the table. He glared at Ben. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“She had been keeping this to herself for so long, I think she must have been going mad. I think she had some kind of altercation with Jack and, for whatever reason, she was driven to take her life.”
“How do you know this?” Edward asked sharply.
“She left me a voicemail right before she died. I just checked my messages a while ago and got hers that came in at eleven-thirty-eight the morning of her death.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, searched for Rachel’s message and handed the phone to Edward, who put the phone to his ear as he stood over Ben. He listened intently and winced when he heard Rachel’s voice come through. “This is full of static. You can barely make out what she’s saying.”
“I’ve listened to it at least twenty times. She was upset. I’m pretty sure she called Jack a selfish bastard. She was on her way to Elena’s condo to confess. That I know for sure.” Ben paused, then said, “And I have this gut feeling Jack is hiding something. I think he knows why Rachel committed suicide.”
Edward shook his head. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” He gave the phone back to Ben, walked over to the counter and grabbed his car keys.
“Where are you going?” Ben asked.
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