Patchwork to Healing, page 14
“It’s really great that you have a home to remember.” A place to call home had always been his wish, one that was never fulfilled. “I bet you had a lot of great times there.”
“We did,” she said, with a touch of melancholy to her tone.
There was more to the story, but he didn’t want to pry. He too didn’t really want to talk about something he’d given anything to have had, and so he changed the subject. “I suppose we should take care of your hand and get you off to work.”
“One step ahead of you.” She retrieved the first-aid kit off the coffee table and handed it to him, then took a seat on the couch.
“You’re always thinking.” He took a seat next to her, took her hand, then gently unwrapped it. As he held her injured hand, he still couldn’t get over how small it was in his. He could see now how she could do such skilled work; her fingers were tiny and delicate. “You should sell your artwork. It’s really good, you know.”
“Thanks,” she said rather shyly. “But I couldn’t dream of asking for money for something that I just enjoy doing. I think it would take the fun out of it.”
Ben thought about her response and understood. He’d felt like that lately with his diving. He’d been doing it professionally for so long now that he’d lost the beauty in it.
“I enjoy giving them away, though,” she said, and he was pleased to hear a brighter tone in her voice.
“That’s great. I hope whoever you give them to warrants your hard work.” Ben applied the last piece of tape to the bandage and gave her hand a small squeeze. “Speaking of hard work, we better get going, or you’ll be late.”
“Thank you, Benjamin,” she said, then reached toward him and gave him a hug.
As he held her in his arms, and her cheek rested against his chest, he couldn’t help but to respond. She was warm and open to him, and it took him back in time. They used to hug like this when they were kids. The kind of hug that simply meant I care, and everything would be okay.
As they headed for the car, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this carefree.
The ride to Proposals was quiet. They each seemed lost in thought. His mind drifted to his and Becky’s new venture together. He was enthusiastic about it, but his job, and his team continued to weigh on him.
“Ben, you just drove past Proposals.” Becky chuckled at his mistake.
“Seriously! I’m sorry. I was on another planet.” He turned the corner to the nearest driveway to turn around and headed back to Proposals.
“Been there, done that,” she said, as he approached the drive, then took a cooler tone. “Everything okay?”
“Sure—yeah. It’s all good. Just work stuff.”
He did not know how to remedy the situation he’d gotten himself into. His job was a huge part of his life, and he was damned good at it. They needed him, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave Becky, especially now when he’d committed to helping with Stepping Stones.
“Here you go,” he said as he pulled in and put the car in park.
She gave his hand a squeeze and climbed out of the car. She threw him a beaming smile. “See you around five?”
“You bet.” Ben looked on until she’d reached the inside of Proposals and was out of view.
As he turned the car around in the driveway, he could see the horizon over the Atlantic and had the urge to be in the water again just for the fun of it. Just like Becky’s quilts. He picked up his phone and punched in the numbers for Jason. Within a couple of rings, he’d answered.
“Hey, Jason, Ben here. Thought I’d be leaving you a voicemail.”
“Perfect timing. Just punched out. What’s up? You still on the mainland?”
“Yeah, I’m still here for a little while, anyway. I was wondering if you wouldn’t happen to have another dive gear set-up on hand?”
“Always have, always will. You feeling the pull to get in there?”
“Yep. I’ve got quite a few hours to kill and thought I’d go to the Nubble.”
“Want company?”
“Absolutely!”
Ben was excited to dive again with Jason. It had been years, and he figured it was best to dive Nubble with a buddy, it was safer that way. They set up a time to meet, and he was confident that Jason would bring everything he’d require for a cold dive. A good dive was just what he needed.
Being in the water settled him. Out there, it was peaceful. He found a quiet tranquility that wasn’t preset above water. This was exactly what he needed. Sharing this outing with Jason made it that much better.
Chapter 20
Rebecca still couldn’t believe he’d kissed her, and she was having trouble getting that thought out of her mind. She shook her head as if the act of doing so would force the thoughts out. Focus, and get your head in the game. She had to make a special-occasion centerpiece and had no time to dawdle.
Rebecca collected two dozen white roses out of the cooler and spread them across her worktable, along with the juniper and cedar greenery, that remained from a prior event. She breathed in the luscious scent as she placed each rose in the wicker basket along with the greenery, and stood back to examine her work. Nope, it needs something more. She scanned the shelving for faux red frosted winterberries and handpicked each stem. Yes, these will do nicely. Then she grabbed some white bouvardia for added texture.
Rebecca’s favorite part of being a florist was creating something from nothing. It gave her a sense of accomplishment, much like her quilting did. She stood at the counter and placed each stem, adjusting them just so. Thoughts of Ben floated in.
She could still taste him on her lips and feel his touch on her face. He’d completely taken her off guard, and she imagined she’d done the same to him. She laughed at the thought of her resting her breast on top of his eggs Benedict. Even the thought of it brought a warmth of embarrassment to her cheeks as she continued shifting roses in the chicken wire framework of the basket.
Her thoughts shifted to her framed quilt, hanging on her living room wall. Ben’s curiosity touched her, and he’d even recalled her aversion to cats. Rebecca hadn’t always felt that way toward cats. In fact, she used to love them a great deal. She had gotten Greta as a kitten and they’d been inseparable. That was before her life changed in the blink of an eye. That damnable cat had destroyed her life and, the more she thought about that tabby and the events that had transpired since, the angrier she got. Her heart rate shot up. It was all she could do to not scream at the top of her lungs. Lost in the memory, she decapitated nearly all the remaining roses, and then turned her anger toward the pine boughs, leaving them in fragmented pieces on the table.
“Rebecca! What are you doing?”
Rebecca froze as Sophie’s voice rang out from behind her. That’s when she saw what she’d done, and the shock of seeing where her anger had taken her scared her. She stood staring at what lay before her and couldn’t explain herself even if she’d tried.
“I—I’m sorry. I don’t know—I…,” she said as she fought back tears, but lost the battle.
Sophie carefully took the snipping sheers out of her hand and set them on the table, then turned Rebecca toward her.
“I’m worried about you Rebecca,” she said calmly, yet more sternly than Rebecca had ever heard Sophie’s speak. “Why don’t you go take a break? Get a cup of tea or something.”
“No, I should clean this up and—”
“No. What you should do is precisely what I just said you should do. And if you’re not feeling better after that, then you should go home.”
Sophie’s concern for her seemed to outweigh her anger. Perhaps, Rebecca thought, it might even be disappointment, which made her feel terrible. She hadn’t been reliable lately, but what she’d just done made her second-guess her mindset as well. A break would do her good.
Rebecca moped as she stepped toward the bakery, hoping Emily would be in the back instead of at the counter, but no such luck. After just having disappointed one partner, the last thing she wanted was to have Emily wonder why she needed a break now, especially after they’d already given her a lighter schedule. Fortunately, no other customers were in the shop at the moment, so the likelihood of having Emily retreat to the kitchen was more likely.
Rebecca approached the counter and she could tell by Emily’s expression that she, too, seemed concerned.
“Don’t you look like something the cat dragged in.” Emily was busy wiping the counter down and barely made eye contact.
Emily didn’t surprise Rebecca much, because her nature was more aloof, but the sting of her statement hit her. Rebecca couldn’t let go of the irony of it. Within the blink of an eye, Rebecca let a tear sneak out.
Emily, in all her wisdom, held back from reaching out, for which Rebecca was most grateful.
“Emily, would you mind getting me a cup of tea?” Rebecca gulped down the knot that was caught in her throat. “I’d do it myself—but...”
She couldn’t hold it in any more. Before she knew it, the floodgates opened, and she stood like a pitiful child needing to be held and told that everything would be okay.
“Oh my, Rebecca, of course. What do you say I bring it to you in the back room instead? I think you’d be more comfortable there. Besides, you can prop your foot up, and the chair’s a lot more comfortable.”
All Rebecca could bring herself to do was to nod while Emily went about making her a cup of hot tea.
Rebecca stared out the window, an overarching sadness swept over her. Even the leafless trees seemed to weep, and the gray sky melted into the sea’s horizon. She missed her cat, her parents, and her home. She missed her once-wonderful childhood, and on top of everything else, her foot hurt, and she was thrown into a task that was thrust on her out of left field. Part of her wanted everything to go back to the way things were before Mrs. Getchel passed away. Life was simpler then, but she owed it to Mrs. Getchel to keep moving forward.
Emily approached with a small tray of tea and a couple of cookies. “Cookies always make me feel better. Thought maybe you could use a little feeling better.”
“They do have a way of doing that, don’t they?” Rebecca said, then closed her eyes, willing the memory of her mom pulling a tray of freshly baked cookie out of the oven. She’d always make a ‘tester’ just for her. It was usually double the size of the regular ones that would follow. It was just her mom’s way of making her feel special and loved.
“Would you like to talk about it? If not, I completely understand. It’s just sometimes—I think—I think that if you get it out, it helps.”
Rebecca wanted to tell her, but talking about the worst day of one’s life wasn’t an easy thing to do. Sure, she’d spoken to counselors many times in the past, but it didn’t seem to help her then, and doubted it would help now. She most certainly didn’t want pity; she’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime.
“Thanks, Emily. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. With Mrs. Getchel’s passing and having Ben here. It’s just brought up a lot from my past, and I suppose it’s gotten to me.”
“That makes sense,” Emily said as she took a seat on the sofa. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you all know each other, anyway? I mean, I know she was your friend, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning this Ben guy before?”
“No, I don’t mind,” she said, but it tied her insides in knots. She wasn’t ashamed to have been a foster kid; it was the why she’d been one that she couldn’t bring herself to tell. Rebecca took a moment to collect her thoughts as she stirred the stiff cinnamon stick in her cup. “Benjamin and I met when I was fifteen. He was living at Mrs. Getchel’s, and so was I.
Emily’s hands rolled her apron’s ribbon around her fingers, and Rebecca could tell she was considering what she’d just shared.
“I’m not sure I understand. You lived there too?” she asked, then unwound the apron ribbon she’d been playing with and stood. “You know what? You don’t have to answer that. I’m totally prying.” She smoothed the apron out. “And it’s none of my business.”
Rebecca reached out and rested her hand on her arm. “It’s okay, really. Sit.”
She took a bite of her cookie before proceeding. Emily sat back down, resting her hands on her lap.
“To answer your question. Yes, I lived there too. In fact, I lived with her at the same time Benjamin did, at least until he—well, that doesn’t matter.” Rebecca could feel her neck and face grow warm at the realization that she was just about to open up about that part of her life. A part of her life that she’d kept hidden.
Emily cocked her head with questioning eyes. “I don’t understand. You moved in at fifteen to live with your boyfriend?”
It was all Rebecca could do to not spit her tea across the room. “Oh, my goodness, no, that’s not it at all. I would never—”
“I’m not judging—”
“No, I know that,” Rebecca said with a reassuring touch of her hand on Emily’s knee. “I’m sorry. I didn’t make myself clear. First of all, Ben was never, nor will he ever, be my boyfriend. We were, what you might call, foster brother and sister.”
“I see.”
“Mrs. Getchel was our foster mom, but she was more like a grandma to us. She’s taken care of many kids over the years, and I became one of them after my parents died.” Rebecca sat, waiting for the pity to start. That look of ‘you poor thing,’ and an, ‘I’m so sorry,’ but it didn’t come.
“How great for you that you had Mrs. Getchel. She’d obviously made a wonderful impact on your life. Families come in many forms.” Emily shifted to face Rebecca straight on. “Yes, you lost your parents, but you’d gained a grandma that could see you through that time.”
The chimes rang, indicating the front door had opened to a customer. Emily patted Rebecca on the hand and suggested she finish her tea, and left her taking in what she’d just heard.
Rebecca glanced at the empty plate and grinned. Hmm, I guess cookies do make everything a little better. She took the last bite of her cookie, and the last sip of her tea, then made her way back to clean up the mess she’d created on her worktable. To her surprise, Sophie had already cleaned it up. Rebecca was pleased to see that Sophie hadn’t built the centerpiece for her as well. She was happy to create a touch of beauty, hoping to cast off the self-pity that was tangled around her, holding on tight, refusing to relent.
Chapter 21
Jason met Ben at the parking lot on Cape Neddick, just as he said he’d do. The Nubble lighthouse stood majestically before him, and he took in the sight. It never gets old. They gave their usual grab-the-hand and half hug-slap on the back before catching up on the latest goings on. Ben shared his predicament with his work back home, and his newest challenge of staying on the mainland to get a new business off the ground.
“Sounds to me like you’ve already made up your mind, Bud,” Jason stated in a matter-of-fact, hoe-hum manner.
“How do you figure?”
“You’ve committed,” he said as he tugged on his wool socks.
“All I’ve done was tell Becky that I’d help her with getting the business going. You know, start-up and all that kinda stuff.” He huffed as he put on the jacket over his base layer.
“Yep, you’re committed, Bud. I can’t believe that you’d consider leaving Rebecca in the lurch like that. This is a big deal. Honestly, I gotta tell ya, if you plan on pulling out after you start this thing, you’re better to just walk away now. At least that way, she won’t have to do it alone, and everyone would go back to how things were—you know—before Mrs. Getchel died.”
By now, they were pulling on their dry suits, and Ben’s mind raced at Jason’s insistence. Jason was right. If he was going to do this, he had to go all in.
I have committed and I’ve told her as much. But he hadn’t been thinking with his brain. He’d responded that way out of emotion and because of her adorable excitement. She was contagious, and he’d become infected. Now he didn’t know how he’d turn back when he’d assured her he wouldn’t. This time, he’d stick it out. At least until the project was up and running.
Ben pulled the hooded headpiece up and over his forehead and was relieved that the neoprene suit fit so nicely. He couldn’t wait to get into the water. It would clear his mind; it always did.
As the icy wind picked up, it stung his face. He was grateful to have had such a big breakfast, which was essential to keeping warm. He was used to tropical waters, and getting back to cold diving was stretching him a bit. He would take no chances on this dive. By now, spectators watched as he and Jason went about their rituals of suiting up. Ben drank his fill of water, knowing it was necessary to stay warm, then lifted his tank onto his back and secured his weighted belt.
Today wouldn’t be easy, Ben thought. The winds were strong and the current moved quickly, but he was skilled, and he lived for adventure; the water was his home. His adrenaline pumped as they made their way over the rocky shoreline. At the entry point in the cove, rock walls below the surface protected the waters. As the rush of water consumed him, it transported him to another realm, a time and place not known to man, but of flounder, rock cod, and sea bass.
Ben surveyed his surroundings in search of Jason, who had followed behind. Jason gave him a thumbs up as they moved through the water. Ben pointed out the wolf eels, then they approached its depths along the bottom. Crabs scurried along the sand. Ben reached to retrieve one. He normally didn’t touch the living down below, but the crab grounded him to the turbulence that stirred in him on the surface.
His stressors receded, and he felt light and free. Yes, this is exactly what I needed.
After some time, they moved toward the outer walls of the cove into the open waters. Light was fading through the water, and the visibility waned. Ben meandered around the rocks in search of nothing, except oneness with the sea.
