“I—ah…” Esther did exactly what she dreamed, turning in his arms and raising her lips to meet his. I can’t believe I am doing this. Nice girls…oh, hush. As if they’d done this before, they deepened the kiss. She’d been kissed a few times in the past, but this was like no other. She felt her heart opening like the soft petals on a rose that yearned for the sunshine. Was this what love felt like? If so, she had a full-blown case of it and Ben seemed to be the only person in the world.
“Shall we go?” he whispered against her lips.
“Must we?”
“We must.” He drew her arm through his and turned the lock on the door as they went out.
On the drive to Grand Forks, Esther dithered. She couldn’t believe it. She was not a ditherer, but back and forth went her mind, totally out of her control. Tell him now. No, tell him later. It would destroy this magical evening. Wait. Did he really say “marry me” as an answer to her dilemma? That was no answer, that would only lead to more problems. But problems were far easier when halved with someone who loves you, they say. Just like joys are doubled with the same.
“So Bo is home caring for Dawn?”
“Yes, he makes sure Beth is aware when Dawn even squeaks her first indication of a need.” He turned to her with a smile. “Biggest mistake I’ve made is tell him to guard her.”
They talked about some of her patients, and touched lightly on the progress of the bond sales and the coming clinic. When the young man in front of the restaurant tapped on his window, Esther rolled her eyes. Valet parking even? Another opened the door on her side. Ben tucked her arm through his and they strolled into the candlelit interior.
They were seated at the white-clothed table, their water glasses filled, and leather-bound menus propped in front of them. Music floated from the harpist in the corner with the silver and china clinking counterpoint. Fresh lavender in each table’s bud vase added a subtle fragrance to the delicious odors emanating from the kitchen. Magical? More than magic.
Esther sighed and felt the tension drain away to be replaced by a quiet sensation of peace. Reading the menu was like a trip to Europe with French, German, and Italian recipes. The descriptions made making choices even more difficult.
The waiter in black pants and a white dress shirt returned to their table. “I can come back, oui?”
Ben looked at her and she nodded. She pointed at random to something.
“A fine choice, madame.”
Ben ordered the prime rib, medium rare.
Esther eyed the bread basket with two kinds of rolls, a flat bread with sesame seeds and pencil-thin breadsticks. The butter came in small squares with a design imprinted on each. The whole picture looked too good to eat.
She enjoyed just sitting across the table from Ben. His smile warmed her midsection. “This is such a treat.”
“Good. We all need a treat once in a while.”
They shared growing-up stories as they made their way through the marvelous meal. By mutual, silent assent, they stayed with funny stories, positive stories. From picture-worthy plates to service that came before being asked, the dinner created a warm memory that she was sure would stay around forever.
Back in the car, she heaved a sigh. “That was absolutely perfect.”
“I thought so, too. I’m glad we could share that.”
Now to ruin the evening, a thing she was so good at doing. “Were you serious this morning when you said ‘marry me’?”
“As a broken leg.”
She shook her head. “No. Then the answer is no. You’re fighting alcohol, I’m fighting the past. We’re two messed-up people. We can’t; I mean, not yet; I mean…” She looked at him. “It wouldn’t work.”
He stared out the windshield, not exactly grim, but his mouth was firm. He nodded. “We’re messed up. You got that right. But I think most of the mess is behind us, both of us. My whole life, everything was gold. Good athlete, good student, good marine, good patrolman. Good whatever I wanted to be. Then Allie got ripped away from me. She was pregnant. I lost the two most important things in my life at once. We’d been trying for years, and then…” He flung both hands wide, a gesture of hopelessness. “I’m not saying this right, but I can’t really describe the emptiness. Sense of betrayal, actually. I couldn’t imagine why God would do that to me, the golden boy. I did everything right, and He…anyway, the bottle helped at first. Then it enslaved me, then I got mad. You provided the reason to get off the booze, to get out from under, first with Dawn, then with you.”
“Me?”
“I can’t help you walk if I’m still crippled. I want to help you.”
“Then you’re not ready to say you’re past it. You have to put alcohol behind you for you, not us.” She laughed. “Listen to me! I can psycho-counsel everyone except myself.”
“Me too.” He was smiling. “You see? We need each other.” He twisted in his seat to look at her squarely, eye-to-eye. “I wondered for months why you were trying so hard to keep your stress disorder secret when the whole world could see it. I was watching your face as Ho and Livingston conducted that so-called intervention. I could see you melt. Terrified, then furious, then defeated. I mean, defeated in a good way. The brick wall was broken down. We can help you now. You can help yourself. We’re both in a better position to think about marriage than we were even a month ago.”
“And Thanksgiving. That was a flashback, yes. Clear as if it were happening then. I’d never had anything quite so—so vivid. We should get started back. It’s late. I can describe it on the way home.”
He twisted back to face the wheel and hit the ignition. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know.” They rolled out to the stop sign.
“I want to. For the first time since then, I actually want to. Even my counselor has never heard it. It’s weird. I knew it happened, but I guess you could say I refused to remember. But I kept remembering parts of it anyway. And when Jefferson entered the picture I was devastated. Wiped. Interesting how your mind can block something it doesn’t want to deal with.”
It gave her the strangest feeling, almost a thrill only different, to finally describe that horrible night when she hit and ran. “Ben, I was so scared when the PTSD started. Scared me to pieces. I had no idea what was happening. I had horrible dreams and finally went to a doctor for help because I couldn’t study, couldn’t concentrate, and I had no idea why. I thought I was going crazy. And now, well you saw what’s happened. I’ve been seeing a counselor for several years but never could determine the cause of the depression. I’ve been on meds to help counteract that. But the PTSD has been getting worse instead of better.” She ordered her hands to unclench their stranglehold on each other.
“And the feelings of inadequacy you mentioned?”
“Lived with that all my life. According to my mother, I never could do anything just exactly right. Dr. Phillips helped me see that, but it is near to impossible to let those things go.” She paused, feeling drained. “At least for me.”
He wheeled the vehicle into her driveway. She really admired his driving skill, so casual, so exact and careful. And most of all, she respected him. Maybe that was even more important than love. Respect.
He killed the engine; he was smiling. “A few weeks ago, had you told me this, I probably would have cut and run. But thanks to Ansel and Beth, God has fixed some things. My rage at Him had to go for me to heal. To think I was refusing to forgive God, who sent his son to die for me, so I could forgive Him. Can you beat that?”
“So you are saying I have to forgive my mother?”
He nodded. “And even more so, yourself.”
“Ben, how could I have just driven off like that? It wasn’t Jefferson, but it so easily could have been.”
“Not hard to see. You were young and terrified. Never encountered a situation like that before, didn’t know what to do, panicked. Not hard to see at all.”
She could see he was right, but it didn’t work. She was still torn up. “You said t
hey never found out who hit the black car. What are the legal consequences, I mean, if I walk into the highway patrol office and confess?”
“Are you aware of the statute of limitations?”
“I heard the phrase.”
“With a few exceptions, most crimes are forgiven, so to speak, after seven years. Or three, for some. Never for murder or manslaughter.”
“So if I just wait a few years, you’re saying.”
“Talk to Dr. Livingston’s wife. But you’re not in serious trouble, as for example you would have been had you hit Clara’s car.”
“This is all coming at me too fast. I have no idea what will happen now. I know this. I sure have some hard work to do.”
He chuckled. “It’ll be worth it. Peace is always worth it. Let’s both just bring God in on this, let Him do the worrying and fussing. Far easier on the body.”
“I can’t believe you are saying these things.” She realized he had taken her hands in his.
“I can’t either.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand.
“Someone said that storms change things.”
“Well, I guess. In our cases, our entire lives. And that will continue to happen. Look at all that has gone on.”
Esther leaned her head on the back of the seat. “Do you wish you could see ahead?”
“Nope, not anymore. Have enough to do dealing with the here and now.” He was studying her again. Not staring. Studying. Sort of exploring her face with his eyes. “I love you.”
Love. More foreign territory she would have to explore. This exploration, though, should be much more delightful than exploring stress disorders. “I think I am learning what love feels and looks like. And if that’s what I’m experiencing, I rather like it.”
Ben leaned over, turned her face toward him with a gentle finger, and kissed her softly. “This is what love feels like.”
Brand-new feelings, wonderful feelings, bubbled through her. She took a deep breath and drew back. “Ben, are you sure? I mean; about us. That this would work?”
“Absolutely. But then I’ve had more time to realize and admit my feelings than you have.” He kissed her again.
“What about Dawn?”
“I want to adopt her. I want the two of us to adopt her. Beth and Ansel will keep her until then. And all will be well.”
“You have it all mapped out.”
“In my head at least. I’ve always been that way. Except when I was boozing. Another reason to steer clear of the bottle.”
“So much work ahead.” She wrapped her fingers through his and kissed the back of his hand. “So much is new to me. I—I would like to say yes. But…”
“That’s a mighty small word with so much hanging on it.” He squeezed her hand. “But we’re not in a hurry. Do the work, both of us. Forgive ourselves, others, the past. When we marry we will rejoice in every day God gives us, just like I am planning on doing right now.”
His expression suddenly changed, from pleasant to stricken. He made a funny sound, something like argg. “You know what I think this means? I have to forgive His Highness for being such a jerk. Forgive Perowsky!”
“Well, you said work.” Esther started to giggle and tried to stop. “Ben James, you are on your way to becoming a wise man. Go see Mr. Aptos, he’s got wisdom to spare.”
“By the way, are you a lark or an owl?”
“I wake the dawn—most of the time.”
“Me too. Are you sure there isn’t a heavenly edict about larks and owls marrying?”
“Nope. Together we’ll wake the dawn and welcome in each new day. New days not only for us, but all of Pineville. Just wait and see.”
Epilogue
From the roar of thousands of voices in conversation to a quiet, rustling mumble, to near silence. Thousands of faces turned toward this temporary stage. Two times thousands of eyes looked up here.
Showtime.
From the sidelines, Ben rolled Mr. Aptos’s wheelchair out into the center of the stage near the mikes and set the brake. The crowd below and before them erupted in cheers, applause.
Mr. Aptos turned slightly. “Ben, if I die in the next five minutes, I’ll die happy. I never imagined it would be this good.”
“You spearheaded a lasting work that will save many lives. Betcha every speaker Lars lined up is going to say that.”
“Do I have to hang around for all those speeches?” There was a twinkle in his eye.
“If I have to be up here, you can just suffer, too. Now shut up and smile at the folks.”
Bill Aptos cackled exuberantly. And he smiled at the folks.
Had Ben taken bets, he would have won. The state senator, the state rep (election year), the state health and human services secretary, and the lieutenant governor all orated majestically, all extolling the role William Aptos had taken in forging a new future for Pineville. Or something. Ben got bored and quit listening even before the senator had finished.
He looked out at the faces, most of which he recognized. Crowds never bothered him. They terrified Esther, so she was down in front of the stage, the first of this vast crowd. Beth and Ansel flanked her, and Dr. Ho and Dr. Livingston stood behind her. Two years ago, they would have stationed themselves there to block her from bolting. No need to now.
Ben would have preferred that Mr. Aptos be free of his Parkinson’s, of course, but at least he was still alive, still here to see his dream fulfilled. The old man chuckled and wisecracked, absolutely ebullient.
Esther was watching with a glorious, radiant, superlatively happy smile. It was the same radiant smile she’d worn on their wedding day four months ago, and on their honeymoon in Hawaii, and when together they had signed the final papers for Dawn’s adoption. The radiance reflected what Ben felt.
Finally they got to the finale. About time, not that Ben was getting antsy or anything.
Behind them, a bright red satin ribbon stretched across the front doors of the Paul Harden Memorial Hospital. The lieutenant governor stepped forward and handed Mr. Aptos a pair of huge golden scissors.
Bill twisted and nodded to Ben. He nodded back. He released the brakes and rolled Bill over to Esther down front there.
Her mouth dropped open. Startled, she shook her head. Too late. Ansel plunked a wooden stepstool in front of her and was handing her up to Ben. She looked instantly terrified, but she held her own, gripped his hand, stepped up onto the stage.
Mr. Aptos handed her the golden scissors.
She looked at Ben. But it was not an I’ll-get-you-for-this look. It was an I’ll-do-this-because-I-love-you sort of look. Behind her the crowd was clapping enthusiastically.
Mr. Aptos wrapped her hands in his. “You are the hero here, Esther. God bless you. Go do it. You’ve earned it.”
Her mouth moved but she said nothing.
Ben pushed Mr. Aptos along beside her as she crossed to that big satin ribbon.
She took a deep breath. Ben wouldn’t have believed it, but she seemed to grow an inch. She squared her shoulders, stepped forward, clipped the ribbon, handed the scissors to Mr. Aptos, and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Mr. Aptos, for making my dream come true.”
He gripped her hands in his aged, trembling ones. “Thank you, Esther. It was my dream, too. Now wave to the nice people.”
The hospital doors swung wide open.
Ben turned the wheelchair outward and Mr. Aptos and Esther raised their hands toward the crowd in what was called a photo op. There were cameras aplenty, too. Not as much news coverage as the storm two years before, but lots of coverage nonetheless.
As much as Ben hated meetings, this had to be one of the better ones. For the next hour he pushed Mr. Aptos, escorted Esther, and watched people pour into the hospital to tour the facility. When he finally took Mr. Aptos back to the Creekside Rest nursing home, he was plain tuckered out.
He pushed the wheelchair in through the double doors, the security doors, and took his leave. Apparently the party wasn’t over, because as he left,
the housebound residents started toasting Mr. Aptos, urging him to cut a decorated sheet cake.
Ben stepped out into quiet twilight and drew in a huge chestful of cool evening air. What a day. Where was Esther? She had been drawn aside for a news interview; apparently that shy young doctor would be the toast of the TV morning shows, whether she liked it or not. That’s okay. She could handle it now.
“Ben?” She stepped out of the shadows beside the walkway. She had Bo on leash.
Grinning wide enough to eat a pie in one piece, he turned and took both her hands in his, gave Bo a brief scratch behind the ears. “TV interview, huh?”
“Not as bad as I thought it would be. The interviewer’s really good at putting you at ease. Afterward, I snuck out the back. I needed some quiet. So I took Bo for a walk on that path down by the pond. Just Bo and me.”
He was still grinning. He couldn’t quit grinning. So good. This was all so good. He draped an arm over her shoulder and led her off toward the house. “Let’s go home.”
Reading Group Guide
Dealing with grief is something we all need to learn how to do. Ben went one way, Esther another. Have you ever lost someone you loved? What did you learn about the grief process? What could you share with someone else to help them along the grieving path?
Family secrets can really be destructive, and bearing a terrible secret alone can be just as bad. Do you know someone who was set free after their secrets became known?
How do you feel about keeping secrets?
Grief and secrets can both be destructive to not only one’s mind but also one’s body, as both Esther and Ben knew, and yet they couldn’t let go. What triggered a turnaround for each of them? What does that say to you?
Natural disasters seem to do more to trigger community concerns for one another than anything else. What have you done to prepare should a disaster hit your area? What has your church or community done?
What characteristics do Ben and Esther share? What is different? What advice would you give them regarding their lives?
Wake the Dawn Page 28