by Nia Arthurs
Adorable.
By the time I tiptoe out of the room, my phone goes silent. I’m not dumb enough to think it will stay that way. It lights up again, revealing a picture of a woman with light brown skin, brown eyes and thin, arched eyebrows.
I pick up, mentally preparing myself for her scolding. “Hey, Tan… how’s the store?”
“Don’t ‘hey, Tan’ me.” Tanya, my best friend and co-owner of our salon Curl Me Chic, smacks her gum in my ear. “I’ve told you a million times, Logan. That white man doesn’t want you. Running after him and his daughter for one night, I understand. But you missed a whole day at the store and for what?”
“Tanya, Harry passed away.”
Silence descends on the line. I can imagine Tanya right now with her mouth hanging open, chewing gum smattering to the floor. “W-what?”
I migrate to the farthest corner of the house in case Reece wakes up and overhears. My arms wrap around my waist as I say, “This morning.”
“You’re kidding. Are you okay? How’s Reece?”
“Not good. She was crying all day. She just conked out a second ago.” I scuff my toes on the hardwood floor, staring at my shiny pink nail polish. “Harry was her entire world. You can imagine how she’s taking this.”
“Girl, she must be devastated.”
“She loved him very much.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I have never seen a man dote on his daughter the way that white man did on Reece.”
“Could you stop calling him that?” I hiss. “Especially on a day like this?”
“Well… he is a white man,” Tanya mumbles.
“I’m hanging up.”
“Fine.” Tanya sighs. “Are you staying at his house?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Take as long as you need to get Reece situated. I’ll handle your appointments and spread the others between the girls. What will happen to Reece now? Is Lydia going to care for her?”
“No. Apparently Harry had a brother and he—” I hear a ping and pull the phone away from my cheek. “Tanya, can we talk later? I’m getting a call from Lydia now.”
“I’ll let you go. Tell Lydia I said hi.”
“I’ll see you later.” I hang up with my best friend and accept Lydia’s call.
“Logan,” her raspy voice sounds in my ear, “I’m sorry to bother you this late, but… is Benjamin there?”
“No. Did something happen after we left the hospital?”
“Well, I took him to the funeral home to make arrangements. Then I took him to meet Pastor Benson. We spoke for a bit at the church. Then I took him to get something to eat since it was after six and he said he hadn’t eaten before his flight.”
Is Lydia reading a grocery list or something? “Okay…”
“I left to use the bathroom. When I came back, he was gone.”
I tap my weave as I think. Exactly where would the American go? “He’s never been to Belize. It’s not like he has a ton of options. Did you give him the address of the house?”
“Yes, I did. Hopefully, he gets in. Please let me know if he does.” Lydia’s fretting so much even I’m getting anxious. “He looked so broken earlier. I have no idea what he’ll do.”
I stiffen. “You don’t think he’ll try to, like, jump off a bridge or anything?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about him. To be honest, there at Harry’s deathbed was the first time his name came up.”
“What do you think happened between them?” I whisper.
“Not sure. But whatever drove the brothers apart was not a decision Ben approved of. I can tell he really looked up to Harry.”
“Okay.” I drag in a breath. “Keep me updated and let me know if he contacts you too, Lydia.”
“I will.”
We hang up. My eyes trail over the kitchen, flitting past the cheerful yellow paint to the stainless steel refrigerator that’s more of a pin board for displaying artwork and excellent school grades than a functioning appliance. The stove gleams like it’s never been used.
Which it hasn’t.
The Duncans did not cook often. Or at all.
I tried to rectify that as much as possible, but coming over a few days every month wasn’t enough to give the oven the loving it needs.
It feels like the house is already beginning to grieve. The silence is sorrowful. The shadows darker than usual.
I’m not used to the hush. When Harry had me over, there was rarely a moment of quiet. If he and Reece weren’t laughing and chatting, they were listening to music and dancing goofily or watching a movie at full blast.
He really was an extraordinary father. An extraordinary man.
Tears well in my eyes again. To keep from crying, I pad to the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of water. Just before the rim of the cup touches my lips, someone bangs on the door. I startle and slosh water onto my shirt. A curse tears from my mouth as I shudder and then glare at the intrusion.
“Seriously?” I mumble. Setting the cup on the counter, I jog to the front door and wrench it open before the visitor can disturb Reece.
A very drunk man stands in the doorway. As he lifts his face to the light, I gasp in recognition.
“Logan!” Benjamin Duncan staggers to the edge of the welcome mat.
My gaze rakes over his thatch of thick brown hair, his strong nose, and sharp jaw. He’s got skin so pale that even in the shadows of the porch, I can see him.
“Well?” Ben slips his arms up. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
I step aside though a part of me is saying that’s a bad decision. He may be related to Harry, but we know nothing about him. What if he’s dangerous? What if he’s crazy?
“Ben? No, Ben, you can’t sleep on the floor!” I rush toward him, yanking him up just before he collapses on the ground.
He wrenches his arm away and waggles a finger at me. In the soft light coming from the kitchen, I notice his solid blue eyes. They’re such a bold color, one I’ve never seen up close, that I’m tempted to stare.
He takes my prolonged eye contact the wrong way and smirks.
I’ll admit… the Duncan men are pleasing to the eye and Ben is no exception. So when his lips tilt up that way, my heart flutters a little.
But only because it reminds me of Harry.
“You’re cute, Logan,” Ben says.
My eyebrow arches. Cute? “You’re drunk, Ben. Let me show you to the guest room.”
“Drunk?” He pulls the hem of his shirt to his nose and sniffs, flashing his chiseled mid-section at me. “I’m not drunk.”
“Yeah, you are, buddy.” I avert my eyes.
I’m stunned he made it home the way he’s stumbling around. Ben’s an inch shy of six feet. He’s also solid with broad shoulders and large hands. I don’t think I can overpower him even if I wanted to.
What should I do in a case like this? Harry rarely drank since he didn’t know when the hospital would call him in to do a surgery. The moments he did, he was always conscious of his limit in case Reece needed him.
He was considerate like that.
“You’re not usually my type,” Ben informs me, “but I’ll make an exception this once.”
He lurches toward me, pink lips puckered. I put my hand up against his solid chest to keep him back. “Hold it, tiger. Although I’m flattered that you’re making an exception for me, the feeling is not mutual.”
He scrunches his nose as though the very thought of me rebuffing him is foreign. “No?”
A smile blooms without my permission. Whether it’s the alcohol or Ben’s genuine personality, I find his bafflement amusing. “No.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. You’re not my type anyway.” He stops and studies me, pale finger on his chin. “You’re too… uptight.”
“Uptight.” I arch an eyebrow. “I’ll let that pass because you’re obviously out of your mind with grief.” I reach out and clamp onto his arm. “The guest room is that way.”
Ben wrenches hi
s hand free and squints into the light. “I’ll find it myself.”
“Okay.” I step back to give him his space.
Ben walks a jagged line down the corridor. I keep an eye on him until he tumbles through the correct door. The moment he’s out of sight, I let out a breath.
Lydia said that Harry appointed Benjamin to act as Reece’s guardian, but was that really the best decision? If Ben’s response to stress is to come home stuttering drunk, then I’m having serious doubts about his eligibility.
I decide to head upstairs and call Lydia to let her know Ben’s come home when I hear something crash. Adrenaline skitters through my veins. I skate into Ben’s room and find him sprawled on the ground, his cheek pressed to the wooden grain.
His teeth are bared and his back is shaking. At first, I think he’s laughing. When I draw closer, I see the tears sparkling in his eyes. My heart drops. I sprint to his side and wrench his shoulder to help him up.
“Ben?”
His blue eyes shift to me, but they’re red-rimmed. The dark circles beneath them punctuate his sorrow. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
A tear spills down his cheek. “Is my brother dead?”
“Ben…” The lock holding my grief back snaps at the sight of his pain. I’ve been pretending to be strong all evening. For Reece’s sake. It wouldn’t do either of us good if I was a sniveling mess while she yearned for her father.
But now… now I can’t stop the tide.
I know nothing about this man. Except this. He loved Harry.
And so did I.
For now, that is enough to bond us.
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