Point Pleasant

by Wood, Jen Archer

  “Your books are selling, aren’t they?” Kate said, poking her elbow into his side. “And you have the new one with the angels.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m thinking of calling one of the characters Katherine.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

  “It’s an honor,” Ben shot back. “Accept my love.”

  “I’ll sue.”

  They shared a smile, and Ben took a swig of his beer.

  “So when are you moving down?” Kate asked. “Officially, I mean.”

  “This weekend. I thought it’d be good to keep myself occupied. After tomorrow, you know.”

  “That’s smart,” Kate said. “Do you want some help with the packing?”

  “Nic said he would come up.”

  “Maybe he’s a keeper after all,” Kate said. “I could probably change my flight if you need an extra set of hands. I don’t mind. You know I love me some Boston.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “Thanks, Katie,” Ben said, and he kissed her cheek. “But I haven’t packed anything, it’ll probably take a while. Plus, in your condition…”

  Kate slapped Ben’s shoulder as she stood from the sofa. “Jackass, I could be nine months pregnant, and I’d still pack your sorry ass under the table. Anyway, the offer stands. I’m going to check on the food.”

  Ben watched his sister stride through the doorway. His thoughts wandered to Boston. The weekend promised to be busy. He needed to call his landlord, cancel his broadband and all of the utilities, and everything had to be packed.

  But where the fuck do you put it all, Benji?

  The house was his now, but it still felt like Andrew’s. And it was filled with a lifetime of possessions that Ben had no right moving. His attention settled on the round watermark on the coffee table, and he frowned. There was a flash of light behind his eyelids, and Ben rubbed his eyes as if this would somehow clear the memory.

  Busy was good. Busy meant he could distract himself. Busy meant he could think about the weight of everything from the last week later.

  Ben stood and headed to the kitchen. Kate was adjusting the temperature of the oven.

  “Need any help?” he asked, checking the clock on the wall.

  “Nope,” Kate replied. “No one is allowed to touch my soufflés until they are on the table and ready to be eaten.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ben said, and Kate snorted. “What?”

  “I can hear your twang, Benji,” Kate said with a laugh. “Soon it’ll be like you never lived in Boston at all.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ben said, affecting his very best non-rhotic Boston accent. “I can still park the car in Harvard Yard.”

  “Aren’t you going to miss Boston?” Kate asked with an air of longing in her voice. “You went native years ago.”

  The doorbell rang before Ben could respond, and he straightened. “I’ll get it.”

  “Yeah, I bet you will,” Kate said, snickering.

  “Hey, you behave tonight,” Ben said, his tone only partly joking as he turned toward the doorway.

  “Hold up, you’ve got something on your face,” Kate said, stepping closer and reaching up as if to wipe at something.

  “What is it?”

  “A shit-eating grin,” Kate said and ruffled his hair. “Now go get the door.”

  “You’re the worst,” Ben said and left the room. He ran a hand through his hair to straighten it before he opened the front door.

  Nicholas was neatly shaved and wore his gray coat. Ben took a moment to appreciate the man’s handsome appearance before stepping aside.

  “Sheriff,” he said. “Come on in.”

  Nicholas had a small box in his hands, but Ben barely noticed it because once the door was shut, Nicholas kissed him with a kind of tender, unhurried intensity that made Ben’s knees tremble. Ben grabbed the collar of Nicholas’ coat to pull him closer, and Nicholas held Ben against the closed door with gentle strength.

  “Hello,” Nicholas whispered and pressed his lips to Ben’s forehead.

  “How are you?” Ben asked and brushed his fingertips over one of the buttons on Nicholas’ coat front.

  “I’m great as of thirty seconds ago.”

  “Let me take your coat,” Ben said.

  Nicholas slid the garment off his shoulders, and Ben caught the scent of the sheriff’s cologne on the fabric when he hung it up behind the door.

  “Want a beer?”

  “I’d love a beer, thanks,” Nicholas said. “How are you?”

  “I’m good,” Ben said, leading Nicholas to the kitchen. Kate looked up from the oven when they entered.

  “Kate,” Nicholas said warmly. He offered his hand but faltered when Kate faced him. “You’re having a baby!”

  “Secret’s out,” Kate said, and she extended her own hand to shake Nicholas’ with what looked like a firm resolve. Her eyes swept from his face to his feet, giving him an appraising once over. “It’s nice to see you again, Nic.”

  “And you,” Nicholas said. “Ben didn’t tell me the good news. Congratulations.”

  “Ben didn’t know,” Ben said with a frown aimed at his sister as he passed Nicholas a beer.

  “Don’t start,” Kate said, shooting Ben a stern glare.

  “Well, I’m glad I didn’t bring wine,” Nicholas said and offered Kate the box. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Not at all. Thank you for coming,” Kate said before inspecting the box. “I love dark chocolate. How thoughtful.”

  “We’re very pleased to have you both back in town,” Nicholas said, glancing to Ben and then back to Kate. His easy smile faded in exchange for a sober nod. “I just wish it was under better circumstances. I’m sorry about Andy. He’ll be missed.”

  “It’s nice to be back,” Kate said with a faint nod of her own, though she did not comment on the mention of Andrew. Ben sympathized. Tomorrow, they would be up to their elbows in offered condolences. Kate seemed intent to focus on the positive side of their mutual homecoming. For now at least. “Ben, take him to the dining room. It’s too stuffy in here with the oven on.”

  “Agreed,” Ben said and moved to crack one of the windows over the sink before he motioned Nicholas to the dining room. “How was your day anyway?”

  “Busy,” Nicholas said as he took a seat at the table. “We finally found the missing cruisers.”

  “Where were they?”

  “The bottom of the Ohio.”

  “Shit,” Ben said with a wince. “That’ll be a hard one to explain with the insurance company.”

  “No kidding,” Nicholas said, and he placed his hand on Ben’s right thigh. “I’ll deal with it next week.”

  Kate cleared her throat from where she had propped herself in the doorway. “You know,” she started, her voice lilting, “I was saying to Ben earlier that Point Pleasant has so much more charm than a big city. I think I definitely see the attraction.”

  “Did you spend some time in town today?” Nicholas asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s in a bit of a state at the moment, I’m afraid.”

  “Quite,” Kate replied, taking a seat. “It’s terrible about Richard and the Gazette. But that’s not very good dinner conversation, I suppose. Main Street was lovely other than that. You all do a very good job of keeping up that nice Mayberry vibe.”

  “Thanks, I think,” Nicholas replied, furrowing his brow.

  “Ben thinks so too, apparently,” Kate added.

  “It has a few good points,” Ben said, and he did not miss Nicholas’ intent gaze.

  “Can I ask how far along you are?” Nicholas asked Kate as he withdrew his hand to his lap. His knee grazed against Ben’s under the table, and Ben relished the closeness, but he pretended not to notice the gesture.

  “Four months,” Kate replied. “I wanted to keep it under wraps for a little while.”

  “Do you know if the baby is a boy or a girl yet?” Nicholas asked.

  �
�I kind of want it to be a surprise,” Kate said. “But the curiosity is killing me.”

  “I would imagine,” Nicholas replied, and he shifted in his seat under Kate’s assessing stare.

  Ben shot his sister a look, but she continued to observe Nicholas as if sizing up the opposition before a big case.

  “So, Mason County Sheriff,” Kate said, and she slid a lock of her shiny hair behind her shoulder. “When did that happen?”

  “Three years ago,” Nicholas replied.

  “Do you enjoy police work?” Kate asked. “When you’re not having to lock up jackasses like Ben, that is.”

  “I do, actually,” Nicholas said, and he gave an awkward laugh at the mention of Ben’s arrest.

  “Hey,” Ben scowled when Nicholas did not disagree with Kate’s comment. “I’m not a jackass.”

  “You are.” The reply came from both Kate and Nicholas at once.

  “Don’t gang up on me,” Ben said, crossing his arms.

  Kate ignored Ben and continued to regard Nicholas with a closeness that made Ben uncomfortable, but he noted that Nicholas remained relaxed.

  “It must be a very difficult job, though,” Kate said finally. “It probably doesn’t leave you much time for a personal life.”

  “You find time for what’s important,” Nicholas said after a few seconds of contemplation. “I’m sure you can relate. You work the other end of the spectrum, after all.”

  Kate hummed in agreement and seemed satisfied with Nicholas’ response. “Ben tells me you look very dashing in uniform.”

  “He might have mentioned it,” Nicholas said, eyeing Ben with amusement.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Sheriff,” Ben said in a tone laced with airy indifference, and he delighted in the way Nicholas pretended to take offense.

  “Look at you two,” Kate said, leaning her elbows on the table. “You look like Milo and Otis all over again. Ben still looks like the dog from Benji the Hunted, though. Someday he’ll cut his hair.”

  “And then you’ll have to come up with a new nickname,” Ben said, shooting her another look.

  “Never,” Kate said, scoffing at the idea. “But in all seriousness, I do hope you’ll keep your handcuffs to yourself from now on, Officer. Unless Ben specifically requests their use.”

  “Katherine.” Ben narrowed his eyes at his sister. “I told you to behave.”

  Nicholas reached for his beer and had a long swig while Kate took on an innocent expression.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry. But you look so happy, Benji,” Kate said. She returned her attention to Nicholas. “You keep him this way, or I’ll deal with you myself, Sheriff.”

  Nicholas’ shoulders straightened in the same respectful manner he had donned when speaking with Stewart before their venture to the factory. Kate offered a pleasant smile, though there was a sternness to her demeanor that had not been present before.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nicholas replied. His voice was soft but carried a steadiness that was admirable. “I intend to.”

  Kate nodded and rose to her feet. “I’m just going to check on dinner.”

  Nicholas waited for Kate to leave the room before he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “I feel like I’m in court,” he said with a comical grimace.

  “I’m sorry,” Ben said. “She’s firing on all cylinders tonight.”

  “It’s good,” Nicholas replied. “I get the feeling maybe she doesn’t hate me quite as much as she could.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Ben said, gently knocking his knee to Nicholas’ once more. “She’s just Kate.”

  “Serves me right,” Nicholas said, wrinkling his nose. “I left you alone with my dad.”

  “That was unnerving.”

  Nicholas shook his head and reclined in his chair. “You’re not a jackass, by the way.”

  “Gee, thanks, Sheriff,” Ben said, scoffing with gentle affection.

  Dinner passed without further incident, and Kate seemed less dubious toward Nicholas by the end of the evening. Before she retired upstairs, offering apologies for being “too pregnant to see straight,” Kate hesitated and pulled Nicholas into a short but warm embrace.

  “I hugged the sheriff,” Kate observed as she headed out of the dining room. She paused and cast a coy smirk over her shoulder. “But I did not hug the deputy.”

  Ben dissolved into laughter, and Nicholas merely shook his head and smiled.

  “She’d get on well with Astrid,” Nicholas said.

  “Too bad she’s not staying after the funeral.”

  “She isn’t?”

  “Nah,” Ben said, shrugging. “She’s got stuff in New York. You want a coffee or anything?”

  “It’s getting late.”

  “It’s only half past ten,” Ben said, checking the time on his phone. “You’re getting old, Sheriff.”

  “And you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, Wiseass,” Nicholas replied gently.

  “I don’t want it to be tomorrow,” Ben said. Tomorrow he had to put on a black suit and see his father in a box.

  “Hey,” Nicholas said and took hold of Ben’s right hand. “It’s okay.”

  “Is it?”

  “Let’s go for a drive,” Nicholas offered. “Anywhere you want to go.”

  “I probably shouldn’t,” Ben said. “It is getting late.”

  “Do you want to go to bed?”

  Ben nodded.

  “I’ll stay until you’re asleep,” Nicholas said, squeezing Ben’s hand for reassurance. “If you want me to.”

  They went upstairs without a word. The floor above them was quiet. Kate was probably already asleep.

  In Ben’s old room, with the door shut behind them, Nicholas unknotted Ben’s necktie. The blue glow of the moon through the window lit his features while he pulled the tie from around Ben’s neck and set it aside with care.

  Ben stepped forward, and Nicholas draped his arms around Ben’s shoulders. They moved, both still fully clothed, and did not part even as they sank down and adjusted their bodies to fit together on the small bed.

  Nicholas slipped his arm underneath Ben’s neck and held him close.

  “Nic,” Ben murmured, and he was surprised by how small he sounded. He put his face to Nicholas’ chest and breathed in the soothing scent of cologne.

  Nicholas rested his chin against Ben’s head while Ben listened to the sound of the other man’s heartbeat and the steady inhale, exhale of his breath.

  “Boy Scout,” Ben whispered.

  Nicholas’ laugh was a soft rumble; Ben felt it more than he heard it when the sound reverberated through Nicholas’ chest.

  “I love you too, Ben.”

  The sporadic sounds of the house as it creaked and settled occupied the silence. Ben’s thoughts were universes away from the bedroom, from the house, from Point Pleasant.

  He brooded over Heaven and Andrew’s white shirts. Ben had met an angel, and he had not even thought to ask what Heaven was like or who got to go there. If anyone got to go there. Perhaps it was a place reserved only for angels. He saw a flash of light in the forefront of his mind and his eyes snapped open.

  “Ben?”

  “I keep seeing it.”

  Nicholas apparently did not need to ask what Ben meant. They had not spoken of the ritual, the archangel, or the general horror of the night at the factory since Ben told Nicholas he did not want to discuss it, but the experience remained no matter how much Ben avoided it.

  “I keep seeing Grant Harper,” Nicholas confessed, his voice low. “And the other one on the roof of the Gazette. The way it waved.”

  Ben tensed and struggled to force the images out of his mind. When he did, he was greeted by hazy visions and distant memories of Andrew. This went on in cycles. Torn between his grief and the encounters with the angels, Ben shot from one to the other like a disoriented pinball with every fresh attempt to repress the thoughts.

  He gripped at Nicholas’ shirt, and Nicholas’ arms tightened around him once
more. Ben squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the rhythm of Nicholas’ heartbeat.

  “Hey, Nic?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you stay?”

  Ben felt Nicholas nod and realized that the other man had not intended to leave.

  Dim morning light seeped in through the window. Nicholas sat on the edge of the bed with his back to Ben.

  “Hey,” Ben said, turning over.

  “Hey,” Nicholas replied and glanced over his shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

  “You leaving?”

  “I should.”

  Ben groaned and slumped against the bed. “What time is it?”

  “Five.”

  “That’s early.”

  Nicholas huffed out a short laugh. “If you say so,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep.

  “Thanks,” Ben said. “For staying, I mean.”

  Nicholas shook his head and brushed a lock of hair from Ben’s eyes. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Do you have to go now?”

  Nicholas hummed in confirmation, but he seemed reluctant. “I’m going in early, so I can take the afternoon off.”

  “Oh.”

  Nicholas stood and straightened his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it down. “I’ll see you later,” he repeated.

  “I’ll walk you down,” Ben offered and moved to rise from the bed.

  “No, you stay here. Sleep for a while longer.” Nicholas bent close and kissed Ben. The touch of his lips was soft but fleeting. And then he was gone.

  Ben stared up at the stucco ceiling and listened for the quiet padding of Nicholas’ feet on the stairs. He heard the open and close of the front door followed by the start of an engine a moment later.

  “Fuck,” Ben whispered to the empty bedroom as he sat up. He knew he would not be able to go back to sleep even if he tried.

  Ben went downstairs and switched on Mr. Coffee—the pompous, formal, top-hat-not-included bastard—to brew. Scratchy stubble covered his chin. He needed to shave and iron his black suit, but he had no desire to do either. He would wait until after Kate was awake.

  The coffee percolated at a slow speed, and Ben grew impatient with the machine. He poured himself a cup when the carafe was a third of the way full and took his mug into the office where he sat down behind his father’s desk. The three photographs of his family were a bitter reminder of the day’s pending event. Ben took a gulp of coffee.