Terminal House

by Sean Costello

  He could still taste peach lip balm on his lips.

  * * *

  While she waited for Ben to return, Roxanne got some tea brewing: Orange Pekoe, Ben’s favorite, the individual bags stacked in a teapot-shaped dispenser on the kitchen counter. She loved how neat his apartment was, everything arranged just so. She’d never want him to see her bedroom. A neat freak she wasn’t. Russ had actually flinched when he saw it, Gram ambushing her the other day, bringing Russ upstairs when he came by to pick her up instead of asking him to wait in the family room. Another of Gram’s good-natured—if pointless—attempts at getting her to organize her things.

  She arranged the teapot, cups and spoons on a tray and carried it into the living room, setting it on the coffee table as Ben came back into the room.

  Rubbing his hands together, he said, “I thought I smelled something delicious. Thanks, Roxie. There’re tea biscuits in the breadbox if you’re hungry.”

  Roxanne said, “No thank you, Doctor Hunter,” and they sat together on the couch, sipping the hot brew. They made small talk for a while, Roxanne giving him the highlights of her shift, making special reference to the fragrant load the bird lady had deposited in her bed, adding, “It looked like she’d been sampling the birdseed herself.” Doing his best to be discrete, Ben told her about Viktor’s late-night dilemma and got her laughing so hard she almost wet herself. When he was done, she said, “I didn’t know you had a car,” and Ben told her he didn’t, but that was a whole other story.

  Pouring more tea now, Ben said, “So to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I bumped into Quinn earlier and he told me about your friend Ray.”

  Ben set his teacup on the table. Not unkindly, he said, “You could park a Winnebago in that man’s mouth.”

  “He also said he and Wilder were here earlier and you seemed a little…out of it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Almost inaudibly, Ben said, “So I wasn’t dreaming,” but Roxanne decided to let that part of it go. He seemed fine now and that was all that mattered.

  She said, “Are you going to be in any trouble?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You know. For the thing with Ray?”

  Ben said, “No. Other than dragging around a broken heart for a while, it’s all under control.”

  Roxanne wasn’t sure she believed him, but he seemed genuine enough. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten away with it—she knew he’d retired years ago, and was fairly certain his license to practice medicine would have long since expired—but she decided to let that go, too. She said, “You guys were close, huh.”

  Ben said, “Best friends since the third grade,” and spent the better part of an hour describing some of their antics growing up, getting her laughing like a loon again. Then he told her about their final moments together and she cried along with him.

  It was jarring, seeing him grieve. He’d been a rock to her since the day they met—even when he got confused about who she was—and she was grateful for the chance to return the favor, Ben resting his head against her shoulder now instead of the other way around.

  After a while, he begged off to the bathroom again. Roxanne told him to light a match, she had to go too, and that got a chuckle out of him.

  Once they’d both done their business, Roxanne toasted an English muffin for each of them and warmed up the tea in the microwave. They sat at the kitchen table this time, and Roxanne said, “So what was it like seeing Gram again?”

  Ben smiled—a little dreamily, Roxanne thought—saying, “It was wonderful. I’d forgotten how beautiful she is.”

  “Aw.”

  “Did she say anything? About me?”

  “Just that it was nice seeing you again,” Roxanne said, praying her poker face was holding up. She wasn’t lying—Gram had seemed pleased to see him—but she wasn’t about to tell him what she’d said later that day.

  Sounding disappointed, Ben said, “That was it?”

  “Gram can be pretty close-mouthed.”

  “I remember.”

  “And stubborn.”

  “I remember that, too.”

  “I tried to get her to tell me about you two, but she brushed me off. Said it was a long time ago.”

  Ben said, “What do you want to know?”

  “All of it.”

  * * *

  And that was exactly what he told her. He started with the first time he’d set eyes on Melanie Anderson in the hallway at Hillcrest High, and finished with the phone call that ended them six years later.

  “I didn’t realize I was screwing it up until it was way past too late. I thought I was building a future for us, setting the stage for a marriage proposal.” He smiled. “I still have the ring and the airline tickets. I was going to pop the question in Hawaii.

  “But what I was really doing was putting her last. Behind my studies, behind the guys I hung out with, behind my compulsion to be at the top of my class. She met her first husband while I was doing a locum in Edmonton. Met him in a grocery store—” Ben felt suddenly stricken. “Oh, sweetie, please tell me you already know about this.”

  Roxanne nodded. “Gram told me when I turned fourteen. Bastard left her while she was pregnant with my mom. It’s all right, Ben.”

  He thought, Thank God. “She broke it off with me over the phone. I begged for another chance, said I could do better, even told her I’d drop out of med school if that was what it took. But it was too late. I’d lost her. It got pathetic for a while after that. I still had a week left in the locum, but after she hung up on me, I got in my car and drove back to Ottawa. Twenty-two-hundred miles. Flat out for forty hours, only stopping for junk food and gas. To this day, I can’t remember long stretches of that trip. I’m pretty sure I drove through the prairies sound asleep. And I damned near got kicked out of med school for taking off from the locum without letting anyone know.

  “I caught up with her where she worked.”

  “Le Château, right?”

  “That’s right. Hippest clothing store in Ottawa at the time.” He shuddered. “Jesus. I stumbled in there in the middle of her shift, barely conscious from the drive. Hadn’t bathed, shaved or changed clothes in three days. And she was so beautiful. Decked out in a pink one-piece, stacking sweaters on a display. And the look she gave me when she saw me…I wanted to die. Startled at first. Then just…nothing. Like I was something she’d have to sweep up.”

  Roxanne touched his arm, and when he looked at her in the warm apartment light he thought she was Melanie. But only for an eyeblink.

  “I spent the next six months trying to win her back. But all I was doing was making it worse. After she threatened to call the cops the next time I rang her doorbell, I finally accepted it was over.”

  “Wow. Gram’s even tougher than I thought.”

  “She was just protecting herself. And she was right. I never would’ve changed. For a while maybe, to get her back. But I was so driven in those days, Roxanne. Had to be the best at everything.

  “Anyway, it was a disaster. So I put my head down and carried on. Got my ticket in anesthesia—don’t ask me why, the work never suited me—and did the job for three years before going back to study geriatrics. I dated, sure. Even lived with a girl for a while. But the vulnerable part of me your grandmother reached, that part went deep. After Mel, I was only going through the motions with women. Commitment never entered my mind. After your grandmother, it was all about the work.”

  He smiled now, trying to make light of it.

  Roxanne said, “Ben, that is so sad.”

  “It’s just life, sweetheart. You make the best of the hand you’re dealt.”

  “And what about now?”

  “What about now what?”

  “What about taking another shot?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Roxanne gave him a gentle poke. “Come on, Benjamin, don’t play dumb with me. I saw your face when you realized who she was. And when she hugged you? I thought you were
going to faint dead away.”

  He could feel himself blushing again. Damn it. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Neon sign obvious.”

  “Well, here’s the thing, Roxanne. People seldom change. Particularly someone as iron-willed as your grandmother. And while I’m certain she believes in second chances, I know her well enough to know that particular door was barricaded shut decades ago. I practically wore her out trying to pry it open again. And when she hugged me on the porch the other day, I could tell nothing had changed. That anger, that wariness, was still there, just below the surface. I’m willing to wager she only put up with me being there because she could see how much you and I mean to each other. And I got lost a couple of times that day, kiddo. I’m sure she noticed. I know you did.”

  “Ben…”

  “Tell me I’m wrong. Better yet, tell me what she really said when you two talked about it later.”

  * * *

  Roxanne thought, Put your foot in it this time, girl. But he deserved to know. She said, “You have to remember what she’s like. When she’s upset, she reacts, and sometimes what comes out of her mouth can be hurtful.”

  Nodding, Ben said, “So what did she say?”

  Roxanne could feel her face getting red, and hated that about herself more in this moment than at any other time in her life. She thought, Just say it. “She told me there’s no way she’s getting involved with you again. She said the fact that you and I are friends is fine, and because of that she’d be okay with you coming over to the house from time to time. Said she’d even do things with us if she was invited.”

  “But bottom line, she’s not interested.”

  Seeing a way to put a positive spin on it, Roxanne said, “That big doctor’s brain in there and you still don’t understand women?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was upset because I ambushed her, bringing you over without letting her know.”

  “So what part don’t I understand?”

  “The fact that she was upset. If seeing you again was no big deal, then I’d be agreeing with you. No chance with Gram.”

  “So the fact she was upset…?”

  “Oh, my God. Am I gonna have to lead you by the hand?”

  Smirking, Ben thought, Ask your grandmother about that. He said, “Lead on.”

  Roxanne took a quick slurp of tea. “Okay. She was upset, but she said you’re welcome at the house anytime and that she’d love to tag along.”

  “That’s stretching it a bit, don’t you think?”

  “Not at all.” Now comes the hard part. “But you were right about one thing. She did notice your…lapses the other day. And she said straight out she’s too old to get stuck in a care-giving role again.”

  “Did you tell her about the isomer?”

  “I did. Sold it pretty hard, in fact.”

  “Did you tell her it hasn’t had time to work yet?”

  Roxanne nodded.

  “So that’s it, then.”

  Roxanne thought, Yeah, that’s probably it. But she said, “Not necessarily. I think what she needs now is time. We’ve got the rest of the summer. Let her see you around, but keep it cool with her. Friends only. She’ll see us having fun and she’ll want to join in. Plus, she’ll see you getting better on the medication. In the meantime, I’ll keep working on her.” She smiled. “I’m an excellent matchmaker.”

  Ben shook his head and returned her smile, saying, “Women.”

  Roxanne poked him again.

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ROXANNE LEFT FOR HALIFAX on Friday, August 28th, the air on that blustery morning rank with the promise of autumn. A thunderstorm broke while they waited for the Air Canada desk to announce her flight, and Ben half-hoped her departure would be delayed. But the squall passed as quickly as it came. He kept stealing glances at Melanie, certain that when the moment came she was going to break down, which all but guaranteed that he would, too.

  Still in their windbreakers, they sat at a beverage kiosk with a view of the airfield, sipping coffee and trying to pretend this wasn’t the saddest day ever. Ben could see Roxanne was excited, but he could read the concern in her eyes, too. This would be the first time she’d been away from her grandmother for more than a week at a stretch, and Ben knew she couldn’t bear the thought of the old woman alone in that house.

  The security alert for the Halifax flight came at 7:00 AM, and Roxanne stood, saying, “That’s me,” with a trembling smile.

  Melanie’s eyes shimmered as she got to her feet, and Ben said to Roxanne, “Why don’t we walk you to the gate?” trying to put off the tears for as long as he could.

  He slung Roxanne’s carry-on over his shoulder, and the trio began a somber trek toward the security area, footfalls echoing from the high, latticework ceiling of the concourse.

  The lineup at the security checkpoint was moving briskly this morning, and when they were ten feet from the entrance Roxanne said, “We should probably say our goodbyes now.” As predicted, a big fat tear rolled down Melanie’s cheek, and Roxanne followed suit, wrapping her arms around her grandmother and holding on tight. Watching them, Ben lost it too. But they were good tears, filled with love and hope and fond wishes.

  After murmuring to her grandmother for a moment—telling her everything was going to be fine, she’d call the instant the plane touched down in Halifax—Roxanne held an arm out to Ben, inviting him into the circle. Ben joined in gratefully, intoxicated by the unexpected contact with Melanie, her smooth hip warm against his thigh. He gasped softly when she slung an arm around his waist, drawing him closer with surprising strength, and he wanted to stand there forever with these people he loved so much.

  But an impatient woman in a severe blue security uniform was waving Roxanne over now, and they backed away from each other. Ben handed Roxanne her bag and Melanie moved in to plant a final kiss on her forehead.

  Starting away, Roxanne said, “You guys should probably just head home. You can’t go any further with me, and the plane doesn’t leave for another hour.”

  The security guard said, “Miss?”

  And Roxanne was gone.

  * * *

  They returned to the city in silence, Melanie discouraging Ben’s attempts at small talk with grunts and one word answers. Fearful of upsetting her further, he decided to hold his tongue. Mel was nothing if not tough, but he could see that losing Roxanne had stretched that toughness to its limit. And he knew from long-past experience, the best thing he could do now was give her space.

  She pulled up in front of his building at a quarter to eight, the only sound the rhythmic back and forth of the wiper blades, working against the drizzle. He thanked her quietly, shifted his body to climb out—and felt Mel’s warm hand on top of his.

  She said, “I’m sorry, Ben. It’s been a rough day and it’s not even eight o’clock yet.” She gave him a thin smile. “I like that we’re friends again, and I want to spend time with you. But today, I just need to be alone. I’m going to go home, have a cup of tea and sit in my chair with a good book.”

  “Tolkien?”

  Melanie laughed. “Probably.”

  “Can I call you?”

  “Please do. But give it a few days, okay? I prefer to feel sorry for myself in private.”

  “I will. And try not to worry, Mel. Roxanne’s a smart, sensible girl, and this really is the best thing for—”

  She gave him a look that said, Tell me something I don’t already know, and Ben buttoned his lip. He said, “I’ll call you,” and got out in the rain. He stood a moment, watching her drive away, the brake lights on her sporty Civic spilling red on the slick pavement as she obeyed the stop sign.

  Then she was gone, too.

  Ben went inside, his hand still warm where Melanie had touched it.

  * * *

  He could hear the phone from outside the door, and his first thought was Melanie. He fumbled the key code a few times, attributing the lapse to his eagerness t
o get to the phone—then he was inside, winded, grabbing the receiver so urgently he almost dropped it on the floor.

  “Mel?”

  “No, Ben, it’s Jake.”

  Ben thought, Jake? Then he remembered.

  “Ben, are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Listen, I’ve only got a minute, but I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. It’s about the isomer. It’s stopped working. We’re not certain yet, but we believe it’s a receptor problem. The results were encouraging at first, as you know, but in the past several days it’s all gone to hell. In about ten percent of the study patients, the drug actually appears to have exacerbated the dementia. And there’ve been some issues with cardiotoxicity. Two patients have had infarcts, Ben, one of them fatal. So you need to get off the stuff, okay? And I want you to get some bloodwork done. Troponins, electrolytes, CBC, renal and hepatic panels. I think you’ll be fine, since you entered the study a month behind the others, but better safe than sorry.”

  “I see.”

  “I apologize, Ben. I got your hopes up for nothing. It’s back to the drawing board for the isomer, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, I think you’re way off base on this one, Jake. I feel amazing. Clear as a bell. All I’ve had is a little indigestion, and I’m more inclined to blame that on cafeteria food than the isomer. I’m right as rain.”

  “I don’t have time to discuss it now,” Jake said. “I’m in London on a conference gig and I’m already late for my talk. But I need you to trust me on this, okay? Stop the medication. Get rid of it. I’ll be back in the country in a week. We can talk more then.”

  “I’m right as rain.”

  “Stop the medication, Ben. I’ve got to sign off. I’ll call you next week.”

  Ben listened to the dial tone for a moment, then hung up. He was glad Jake had called. He’d almost forgotten to take his medication.

  * * *

  Roxanne cried some more on the plane. Ben had surprised her with a business-class ticket on the sleek Bombardier CRJ9 domestic jet, and she’d been lucky enough to score a seat in the row of singles on the port side of the aircraft. It wasn’t exactly private, but at least there was no one bumping elbows with her, and she could turn her face to the window and hide in her hair. She wished Russ could have joined her for the trip, but he’d been forced to leave a week earlier to secure the off-campus apartment he’d be sharing with the guys in his band.