by Laura Domino
“I don’t have a tell.”
“Everyone has a tell. You’re stressed. And I’m trying to hold it together. Aren’t we a pair?” He breathed.
Her heart broke to see him in pain. The way to make him feel better wasn’t clear. “Adam, let me pray for you. And for your mom.”
“Thanks. That will help.” He took a sip and put the glass on the coffee table.
She sat by him on the sofa and took his hands in hers. His face showed signs of tears, but he seemed very controlled, very reserved.
Despite their struggles, she wanted God to use her to bring healing to Adam’s heart. She hoped God would give him comfort and relief. For a minute she prayed silently, and then out loud so Adam could hear what was in her prayer. After she stopped, she remained still, trying to think of what she could say or do to help him.
“Thanks, Benita.” His voice made her look up. The expression on his face seemed out of place. He was hiding under the mask of normal. “I’m grateful for the time I got to spend with him.”
She leaned back against the sofa, letting his hands go.
“Thanks for the prayer. I’m better now. I should go.” He didn’t move.
Benita could see he needed to stay and talk it through. She could be still and listen.
“I’ll be fine. He was just an old family friend. It’s not like he was my dad.” He smiled. “No, actually, he was my dad.” Looking over at Benita, he nodded. “My mom told me. And he confirmed it.”
“Oh, Adam.” Inside, she tensed. She hurt for him.
“They kept it from me…from us. My brother and I didn’t know. All these years. And now, I know.” He took a breath, looking like he was trying to remain controlled, but he lost it. “He was my dad. He was…He was my dad.”
Benita let him hug her. He buried his face in her shoulder. She didn’t care if her shirt was wet with his tears. He shuddered while she held him.
“Go ahead. It’s okay.”
XOXO
After Adam went home, Benita sat back down on her sofa. She forgot to tell him that the care group meeting went on as expected.
She took a moment and thought about Charlie. It had taken some effort to get her to participate in the care group meeting without Adam there to encourage her. Today had been an opportunity for growth for both of them.
Benita was used to being a leader, but her style had to change for the care group. Sweetness and gentleness were necessities in a group like that. She thought of Mr. Casey. He got people to do what he wanted without ever being sweet.
Adam had been bending over backward to help Charlie without letting it become awkward. He never flirted with her. Just intentionally helpful.
She closed her eyes and prayed. A part of her heart warmed when she thought of Charlie trying to raise daughters alone. Charlie should be as proud of herself as she was of her girls for being so responsible and dependable. Over the last couple of weeks, she had told Adam and Benita how grateful she was that she had occasional help from other moms. One helped with carpooling to their daughters to dance class, and another came over once each week to help with homework so Charlie could be at the care group and then work. With their help and with her sister’s, Charlie was managing a lot.
Benita remembered her backpack jingling earlier today. It was starting to jingle because of the coins she threw in the bottom compartment now when she carried it to work. Normally, she’d just empty it into a jar and let it sit until she could decide what to do with it. For Benita, the coins weren’t really spendable. Who wouldn’t laugh at the idea of taking a jar of coins to pay for a coffee? Credit cards were much faster.
That gave her an idea.
Benita left her living room, found her backpack on her bedroom floor, and set it on her bed. Now where was that box of envelopes? Her gaze went to the small desk in the corner of the room. She pulled out a large, brown envelope and set it next to her backpack. After dumping the contents of her backpack, she picked up her coins and stuffed them hurriedly into the envelope. Dropping and recovering a few coins made the job take a little longer. She needed to hurry.
Determined and stubborn, Benita walked out of her apartment and headed for the elevators. She was on a mission.
She left the building and headed to the Blueberry Bakery where she had some serving to do. If Adam chose to not go with her to Spain, that meant that she was on her own in the area of serving her community. If she was alone in Spain, she would have to start serving her new Spanish community without his support. Tonight, she was proving to herself that she could do it.
Benita walked into the restaurant and saw where Charlie was working. She sat at a table in her area so she could talk to her.
“I know you’re working, but it looks like a slow night. And I’m a big tipper.”
“Well, all right. What’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about you and your girls. There is this problem that I need your help with. Maybe your girls can do me a favor.”
“What? What kind of favor?”
Benita nodded to her backpack on the seat next to her. “My backpack is too heavy to carry around like this. I need you to bring me a to-go bag so I can give you part of my heavy load.”
“You mean right now?”
“Either now or later, but I have to unload to you tonight.”
“Okay. Let me take your order, and I’ll go get a bag.”
Benita ordered a small meal for her to eat right away, and then another meal to take home with her.
“Wait. I’m confused, Benita. You want a to-go order in a bag for you to take home with you tonight, and then a second to-go bag for you to give me something from your backpack?”
“You’re not confused at all. You’ve got it. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not smart. You’re very sharp.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be back with an empty to-go bag.”
Benita hoped Charlie didn’t see the gift as an act of pity, but rather an opportunity to think of a good way to teach her girls to use their new bag of coins.
When Charlie came back, Benita pointed to the seat beside her and asked Charlie to sit. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the envelope full of coins. The whole idea of using the brown envelope was to conceal what she was giving to Charlie. She tried to handle it carefully so the coins were as quiet as possible.
Charlie took it and placed it in the to-go bag. “What is this for?”
Hushing her, Benita whispered, “Not so loud. This is for your girls to unwrap, count, use in whatever way they need to. I can’t use it.”
“It’s money. You can use it. Why are you giving it to me and my girls?”
“Charlie, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind today. I’ve been throwing change in the bottom of my backpack for a long time. When it gets too heavy, I have to do something with it.”
“Okay, let me get my checkbook, and I’ll pay you back. How much is it?”
“No idea. I never even tried to count it. For me, it’s a nuisance. It’s not spendable. But you have three daughters who would spend it on lunch money and candy. Not much of a boost to the college fund. But for you, Charlie, it’s spendable.”
“I’m going to pay you back.”
“No. I’d rather you pay it forward. You could use it as a tool to teach your girls how to be generous.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Chapter 29
In his mom’s kitchen, Adam scratched his head, and put his phone back into his pants pocket. “Finished.” He walked over to her table, holding a small notepad with two pages of names. “I spoke to as many people as I could on this list. A few are out of town, but the rest gave a positive response.” He set the list on his mom’s table. “That’s all the people who might come to Dan’s funeral.”
His mom sat at the table, wearing her orange baseball jersey, looking up at him with patience in her eyes. She sipped her tea slowly, quietly. The notepad had bounced between them all morning. Their brainstorming took a l
ot more effort than he had initially anticipated because of the way Dan never stayed in one place for very long. She took the notepad and glanced through the names, most of which had a line through them. “Wait a minute. No, Adam.” She flipped the pages and gave it a second look. “Benita’s not on the list. You want to invite Benita.”
He shrugged. “I don’t think she can come.”
“Of course, she can come. Write her name down.” She put the list on the table and pushed it next to Adam.
“She’s going to be busy.”
“With what?” His mom stood and pushed her chair closer to the table.
“The funeral is Friday afternoon. She finds out about her promotion on Friday.”
“Then she can tell you in person at the funeral how that went.”
“Not a good idea. She can tell me later.”
His mom put her hands on her hips. “Adam. You are not going to break up with her. Because you are for sure not going to start drinking again—like last time.”
“No. I’m not drinking again. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve grown past that.” He pulled out a chair and sat, too exhausted for the discussion. “My dad’s gone. My brother’s gone. My other dad’s gone. And the Astros lost last night.” He looked up at her. “She’s leaving.” Nodding, he looked down at his hands. Intertwining his fingers, he thought about Benita. “I’m able to move on without her.”
His mom, exasperated, looked him in the eyes. “Look at your life. All of your successes have come through talking to people. Have you told Benita how you feel about her?”
“Yes. She knows. I’ve been trying with everything in me to not fall in love with her. But I think I fell in love at first sight. And now she’s leaving for good, and my heart is numb from the anticipation of pain.”
“She loves you. Dan said he saw the spark. She’ll come to the funeral if you invite her.”
“I know she loves me, and I love her. And that’s what is so painful about this. I can’t be with her, so I can’t invite her. I can’t even talk to her. Mom, there’s no place for me in her life. I can’t complicate things for her right now.”
“Adam.”
“She’s leaving. I want her to be happy.”
“Fine. Either give me your phone or tell me her number. I’ll invite her. She will not be happy if you leave her out of this important moment of your life.”
“Okay. Yes, she’ll support me at the funeral. She’ll probably want to be there.”
“Thank you.”
Adam sat staring, thinking of Benita. Drained of energy, he had nothing else to say to his mom.
“Honey, I know you think your heart is breaking, but realize that she hasn’t moved. She hasn’t done anything to hurt you. You’re imagining a breakup that hasn’t happened. It doesn’t have to happen.”
Adam picked up the list. His eyes couldn’t focus on the names. The pain of letting her go got in the way of normal problem-solving.
“What are you going to do?” She leaned toward him. “Sell your house. You can be her boyfriend over there. I think she doesn’t want to break up any more than you do.”
“Mom.”
“Adam, honey, do something. Do something to keep her.”
“If I invite her to the funeral, will you leave me alone?”
“Probably not.”
XOXO
Adam looked up at the thin, black hands of his kitchen clock. One minute before five o’clock. Benita was probably still at work. He looked at her photo in his contacts list. She had caught his face in the background. Proof of how mesmerized he was with her. He tapped the button to call her. He could text, but why? Her voice was a much better option. Even if it was only voicemail.
“Yes, Adam? What’s up?”
He soaked in the softness of her voice. “Do you have a spare moment tonight? I’d like to come by to talk.”
“I can meet you now. Well, just give me fifteen minutes to close down stuff here and walk home.”
“Great. It’ll take me that long to get there. See you then.”
Adam put his phone away, grabbed his keys, and headed to Trusty Rusty.
He backed out of his driveway, thinking about the possibilities of him living in Spain, dating her. The risk of pain was certain. Their success as a couple was not guaranteed. The pain that came with thinking about them being separated for the rest of their lives was unbearable.
She was beautiful. And she admitted she loved him, didn’t she? But even with that confession, neither of them was sure what the future held for them.
Why not add fuel to the fire of their dilemma? He parked the car and walked to her door.
After his knock, she opened right away. “Perfect timing. I just got home. Come in.” Her face seemed tired but happy.
He’d gotten used to her smile. Was this the last time he would get to see it? “You’re probably busy. This won’t take long.” He let his gaze fall to his shoes. “I need to ask you a question.” He looked up at her, waiting for her to tell him everything would be fine but knowing it wouldn’t.
She turned to look at her sofa. “Okay. Have a seat.”
They sat, facing each other. Their knees touched but gave no comfort. She watched him in patient silence.
The air was scented with leather. Adam looked around and found the new piece of luggage in the corner.
Of course. She was getting ready for her big move.
“Okay, Adam. What’s this question?”
“Right.” He nodded. “I’m…um. I have to tell you something that might be irrelevant at this point. But I’m here, so I’ll…”
She moved her hand slightly and touched his knee. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”
“I told you I had a brother.”
“Yes. He died earlier this year?”
“Yes, he did. From the time I found…” His grief, dormant for weeks, livened up in his chest. “When I found out he was dead…well, I…” Adam’s chin faltered. He swallowed and tried again. “I started drinking.”
“Okay.” Her encouragement to go on didn’t stop the feeling that his pain was about to get worse when his story ended. He didn’t dread telling her as much as he dreaded regretting telling her.
“My brother and I were close, so I responded by drinking myself into a stupor. I figured out after a month that drinking didn’t make anything better. By then, I didn’t care what I was doing to myself.”
Benita didn’t speak or even nod, but connected her gaze with Adam’s.
“I missed out on so much while I was living by the bottle. I guess the drinking was giving me the opportunity to see how close to death I could come without actually dying. My mom lived in a parent’s hell, and I only added to it. The funeral was a blur for me. I’m pretty sure I was there, but I don’t really remember it. I haven’t been to his grave since that day.”
Her frown seemed like she wanted to speak but was waiting for him to finish.
“I was aware enough to write a eulogy. Can you believe it? Me? Writing a eulogy?”
“Adam, I’m sure it was beautiful.”
“I don’t really remember the words I wrote. But I do remember the feelings. The dread of that day. The eulogy I wrote was like a hot coal in my hands that day. I had to leave it at home—in a drawer.”
Benita’s gaze went to her own knees. She stayed silent, crossing one leg over the other. The hem of her plain gray skirt hid all but a sliver of her top knee. Nothing about her showed any emotion.
“I had to keep it in a drawer because I couldn’t face what was happening. The eulogy was written out of pain. It didn’t honor him. It was just the venting and raving of a guy who wanted to go back in time and fix things. I felt helpless and ugly, so I drank. And I became helpless and ugly.”
She folded her arms over her chest and leaned into the back of the sofa.
“I didn’t really ever try to stop drinking until the day I saw you in the coffee shop. My mom didn’t care why I stopped drinking. She was just glad to have me back in my
right mind.”
Benita nodded.
“My mom is scared right now that I’m going to start drinking again when you move away.”
No response from Benita. Not even a frown of disappointment. Her lack of communication could only mean she didn’t want to say what she was thinking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.
“I need to make it clear that I will not be drinking after you leave. I know what that’s like. It’s a dark pit of ugliness, and I won’t be going there anymore. So now, you can be confident that I’ll be fine. You should have nothing holding you back. I’m okay with you moving on. I just had to come over and make sure you—”
“Adam, I don’t even know if I’m getting the promotion.” She clasped her hands together, intertwining her fingers. Her emotional state showed through in the white-knuckled grip.
“You bought luggage.” He raised his eyebrows. Her new luggage was proof that she hadn’t given up.
“After last Friday, I don’t know. I really don’t know if I’m actually moving.” She shook her head, still not looking at him. “If I don’t…”
He put his hand on hers. “Stop. You’re just nervous. You’ll win the promotion. You’re a winner, remember?”
“Adam, I…”
Taking each of her hands in each of his, he pulled her fingers apart. It was like unplugging her from an electrical outlet.
Her voice was weak with emotion. She whispered, “I don’t really want to go to Spain without you.”
His heart ached for her to be happy. After the silence became too much for him, Adam had to set her straight. “No. No, you’re not going to do this. Benita, I came over here to make sure you were ready to leave. I needed you to know that I’m going to be fine. You’re going to Spain without me, and you’re going to be fine.”
With so much of their future up in the air, he didn’t know what else to say to her. He was lying to himself and to her. He didn’t know how he was going to sleep tonight.
“Okay.” She met his gaze, finally. “Thank you for telling me about your drinking. I’m glad that’s all in your past now.” Facing her knee again, she took a deep breath. “So… I guess it’s my turn. When I leave for Spain, it’ll be hard for me too. I told you my mom died when I was a teen. I was an only child, and she raised me to be independent. So, yes, I’ll manage on my own. I have for many years.” Her gaze flicked up at him. “Charlie is a single mom too. She makes me think of my mom because she does everything she can for her girls. I know raising girls alone is difficult. I’ll miss her when I leave.”