Patchwork to Healing, page 17
Rebecca approached the piano with a sinking feeling. A dear John letter? She wouldn’t blame him, especially after the way she’d treated him.
She sighed, picked up the envelope and slumped on the piano stool. With hesitancy, Rebecca slid a finger between the seal and pulled out the note. She bit her lower lip and flipped it open.
Becky,
I’m not angry with you for not coming to see me in the hospital, but I am disappointed. I suppose you think I deserve it after leaving you all those years ago, when you needed me the most, but I confess, you’ve left me confused. I thought we’d gotten past all that. I thought we were moving forward. We had plans. Did I do something more to upset you? I’m at a loss as to how to move forward.
I’ve moved out of the inn and staying with Jason for now. Since they haven’t cleared me to fly home yet, staying at the inn long term didn’t make good sense. If you decide you’d like to work this out, please call. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll take it that our partnership is a bust, and you’d rather lose everything than keep me in your life.
With my deepest regrets, Becky.
Love,
Ben
Rebecca reread the letter a few more times. Their future was in her hands. Still, her heart sank. The few words that hit her the most were that he hadn’t been cleared to fly home yet. She couldn’t make him stay. He’d obviously preferred to go home, and who could blame him? His friends and life were in Hawaii. She had no hold over him—never did—never would. At least, she thought, he’d written to her this time, and for that she was grateful.
Rebecca folded the letter, stuffed it back in the envelope, and slid it into her pocket. She took in a deep breath, put her chin up, and walked out the door.
If she set her mind to it, she didn’t need Ben to make Mrs. Getchel’s dream come true. She just had to figure out a way she could carry out the plan by herself. Surely, she could make the trustee understand.
Chapter 27
Ben’s head throbbed as he drove toward Jason’s place. He
had no business driving out to Mrs. G’s house, but he had no other way to reach out to Becky, outside of bothering her at work. He hesitated doing that again, especially after the fiasco he’d caused that last time.
It crushed Ben that Becky hadn’t checked in on him at the hospital, and he wondered if she even knew he was out. Could she really be that upset that I’d picked her up? He wondered if he had pushed a button that he was unaware of. She’d told him to put her down, and he’d ignored her, thinking she didn’t really mean it. He thought it was all in fun. Maybe something from her past? He didn’t know what to make of her reaction, and the silent treatment now ticked him off.
Jason was still at work, and his place off Seabury Road, in York Harbor, was quiet. The wind had died down and a full moon shone. I need some air. He threw his coat back on and stepped out the back door and down the set of weathered stairs. Ben stuffed his hands in his pockets as he maneuvered over the gravel road toward the York River.
Ben had forgotten how much he enjoyed seeing his breath. It reminded him of being a kid. He tipped his head back, pretending to blow a smoke ring, then laughed. As much as his childhood sucked, he’d had enjoyable moments, too. He grinned at the thought and breathed in the fresh night air and filled his lungs.
Before long, he stood on an outcropping of dry rocks that led to the water’s edge. The tide was high, and the waves lapped the rocks with a lull that was music to his ears. He sat down, brought his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them, then gazed out at the moonlit water. It called to him still as it shimmered and sparkled as if celebrating his return, but a part of him also felt as though it mocked him.
Ben looked toward the night’s sky, wishing his connection to the sea could remain as it was. He was at home with the sea. As unpredictable as it was, he respected its greatness—its power—and its lure.
The crisp night turned frigid now and settled in, sending a shiver down his spine. Once again, thoughts of Becky permeated his mind.
Before his accident, he’d had such high hopes for their future together. The Stepping Stones venture was a good one. He’d actually been excited about it and was looking forward to bringing it to fruition. Becky had great ideas, and he enjoyed seeing her happy.
He remembered how rarely he’d seen her happy when they were kids. He’d oftentimes tried to make her laugh, because Becky had been the living definition of sadness. She’d worn it as an invisible cloak, and everyone knew it was there, but sometime, she’d let it slip.
He grinned, recalling her as a gangly teenager. She’d laugh as he played and sang his silly songs on the piano, or mimicked Mrs. G. behind her back. He remembered the time that she seemed happiest back then: when they’d gone to the beach. They’d floated on the water, riding the waves, and looked toward the blue sky, dreaming of their futures.
Becky had dreams of making an impact and doing something important for others. Looking back now, he realized that she’d already done just that. She made quilts for foster kids and created flowers to brighten people’s days. Did she really need to do more? Yes, creating a program for foster kids was a condition to Mrs. G’s will, but more importantly, she’d thrive if she did so.
The rhythm of the sea sloshed methodically against the rocks. Ben looked toward the heavens once again. What do you want from us?
Becky was more than capable of running Stepping Stones without him, and because she’d been avoiding him, it appeared to be her preference. Maybe he could convince the trustee that they had extenuating circumstances. After all, Mrs. G. certainly couldn’t have anticipated that he’d have a head injury. At least they had the name, Stepping Stones, and wagered to guess that Becky had ticked off more of the trustee’s to-do list while he’d been incapacitated. The biggest hurdle was to have the town accept the plan, and once they got that approval, the actual project could get off the ground. Surely, he thought, that would be enough to fulfill Mrs. G’s wishes.
“I’ve done all I can do,” he said to the stars. “Becky doesn’t need me or want anything to do with me.” He hesitated, as if awaiting a response. The lull of the water and the sky stilled, and all was quiet. “Do you hear me? I’m done!”
Then, as if it were deliberate, a wave crashed against the rocks, sending an icy spray over him, drenching him where he sat. Ben spit and sputtered the salt water out of his mouth and wiped his eyes with his numb fingers.
“Fine! I got the picture,” he said to the wind.
Ben brushed himself off as best he could and plodded back up the hill to Jason’s place while he contemplated how to move forward with his life. He didn’t know what his future might hold. He was as lost as a ship that broke anchor in the night, rolling with the waves, without direction or footing, being cast about without a destination or mooring.
Ben had a hard time seeing himself back in Hawaii, especially after his head injury. Besides, he thought, he wasn’t able to fly any more than he could dive right now, and he certainly couldn’t do his job, even if he could return. That reality struck him to the core. Diving was his whole life. He had absolutely no idea how to move beyond it.
Stepping Stones, he thought, was now his only option, but with Becky’s vanishing act, it seemed highly unlikely that she wanted him to be any part of it. He shrugged off that thought with a shiver.
Ben thought about all the ideas he’d had for their venture together, and he found it maddening that, of all the people in all the world, he had to work with Becky Mills, the sad little girl from his past, who’d grown into a stubborn, infuriating, remarkable woman.
“Mrs. G., you have a devious mind,” he said as he shook his head.
He took in another deep breath, then continued toward Jason’s place. By now, more time had gone by, and he could just imagine what Jason might think to see his car there and not him, so he picked up his pace.
He was freezing and ravenous by the time he’d reached the house, but Jason still wasn’t home. Ben tugged off his wet clothes and hopped in the shower to wash off the remnants of the salt water and the chill of the night. Before long, he rummaged through the fridge, but saw nothing appealing. He wished Foster’s Clambake was open for the season because he was craving one of their lobster rolls and clam chowders. As his stomach continued to growl, he decided to head on over to the Ship’s Cellar Pub for a bite, but thought he’d give Jason a heads up. He scooted out the door and tapped Jason’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, Jason. Wasn’t sure if you were heading back yet, but if you were, thought you might join me for a bite at the Cellar Pub. I’m heading there now. If not, see you back at your place.”
He disconnected and drove to the Inn. The one thing he missed about not staying at the Inn was just walking next door from his unit, but he was grateful to have Jason’s place nonetheless.
The inn and its pub were a welcoming sight. The windows glowed and white twinkling lights adorned the outside, giving it an enchanting appearance. Ben parked and entered through the inn’s main entrance. He’d gone that way so he could warm himself by the fireplace before heading downstairs to eat. A wood-burning fire was something he sorely missed living on the island, and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity while he had it.
Ben approached the large stone fireplace and rubbed his hands together, taking in the warmth, then found one of the leather chairs empty and had a seat. He noticed Julie working behind the upstairs bar, and Julie didn’t take long to notice him as well. She gave him a bright smile and a quick wave, then held up one finger, indicating for him to wait a minute.
By now, Ben’s hunger gnawed at his stomach, and as much as he’d like to say hello, he thought it best to go downstairs and get a table. He stood and gathered his coat off the arm of the chair and slowly moved across the wooden floorboards to the top of the staircase.
“Hey, there,” said the cheery voice behind him. Ben turned to once again see Julie’s big smile and sparkling eyes before him.
“Hey,” Ben said with a questioning grin. “I’m surprised to see you up here.”
“Yeah, once in a while I help up here. I like it though.”
A young couple was climbing the stairs and Ben moved out of the way to let them by. They nodded thanks to Ben and Julie and wished them a good night. Right about that time, a staff member brushed by and told Julie he’d see her tomorrow, then he whisked off, in a hurry, toward the dining room.
Ben shifted back to the stairs landing and hesitated. “I was just heading down to grab a bite. If you’re done for the night, would you care to join me?”
Without blinking an eye, Julie said she’d be delighted to, but would need to grab a sweater out of her car first because she didn’t think it was appropriate to wear work attire in front of patrons.
“I’ll be right back. Oh, but go ahead and get us a table. Get one by the fireplace if you can. I think you’ll like it there.” She gave his hand a squeeze, then scampered off.
“Will do.” His gaze followed her as she left, but all he thought was that he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. The last thing he needed was having Julie think he was interested. He had enough to deal with and didn’t need to add another woman to the mix. At least he was safe in that he didn’t have a room next door. And he wasn’t cleared to drink alcohol, which was a saving grace.
He got a table near the fire and was perusing through the menu, which he realized was kind of ridiculous because he knew it by heart. He’d decided on a burger and a lobster corn chowder by the time Julie made her way toward him. She’d loosened her braid and her hair lay long and wavy over her shoulders. She pulled out her Windsor-backed chair and plopped down with a huff.
“Did you order drinks?” she asked.
“Nope, not yet. You may know my usual drink of choice, but I have absolutely no idea what you might like.”
“I’ll have anything you’re having.” She crossed her arms, placed them on the table, and leaned forward. “Surprise me.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “Okay, you asked for it. You will definitely be surprised.”
The server approached, and Julie exchanged pleasantries with him before Ben ordered. “We’ll have two ginger ales on the rocks, please.”
Julie’s confused expression was priceless. She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, and so he added, “Julie, would you like a lime with yours?”
“Ah, sure—why not? A lime would be great.” Julie squinted her eyes and cocked her head to the side as the server left. “Okay, I thought you were a whisky kind of guy.”
“I’m a man of mystery,” he teased.
“I guess you are at that.” She opened her napkin and lay it on her lap, then tapped her temple. “So, what’s with the big bruise and stitches?”
“I got into a fight with a desk and lost.”
“Aah, I see. I’ve been known to get in a fight with the leg of my couch on occasion. We came to an understanding. I told it that if it happened again, it was outa there. I think it listened, but time will tell.”
“Yes, the cantankerous old couch leg. They’re a menace to society and should be outlawed.”
Julie picked up her drink. “Here, here!”
Ben followed suit and clinked their glasses together. They ordered their meals and then passed some time making up stories about the other guests, guessing at what their conversations might be until their food arrived. He had to admit that he was enjoying himself, but deep down, he wished Becky sat before him, wearing her Cheshire-cat smile. Ben blew on his spoon of chowder, and Julie cut into her salad.
“You know what? In all the times I’ve served you, I’ve never asked what brings you here to York Harbor. Are you here for work?”
Ben pondered her question while he tore open a small bag of oyster crackers. “Kind of? Well, not originally for that reason. I was here to say goodbye to a friend. She was more of a grandmother figure, I guess.” He dipped his spoon in the chowder and gave it a slow stir. “Now, though, I’m not so sure why I’m here.”
“And the mysterious, desk-fighting man remains aloof.” She popped a cherry tomato in her mouth. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re a—’consultant.’”
Ben chuckled. “I’m not trying to be cryptic. It’s just that I’m seriously not sure what I’m doing here.” He went to explain what had happened with his head injury and the fact that he could no longer do his diving job.
“So, you’re kinda stuck here.”
“Maybe?” he said as the server placed their entrées in front of them.
“When I asked if you were here for work, you said, kind of. What does kind of mean if you’re not able to dive?”
“Now there lies the million-dollar question. I thought I was going to start a business with a friend. But now, I’m not so sure how that’s going to play out.” He took a bite of his burger.
Julie cut up a piece of asparagus. “Okay, I’m intrigued.”
Ben dabbed his mouth with his napkin and took a drink, then explained the business concept that he and Becky had laid out. Time ticked by and his burger grew cold as he became more animated and excited about the venture. He shared a couple of his job training ideas: the service industry, baking, fishing, and the trades. Then expounded on teaching basic living skills like budgeting, using coupons, cooking, and anything else that would help kids that might otherwise fall through the cracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about anything.
“Ben, you might not be able to dive the way you used to, but maybe you could at least teach some of the basics of it to some kids? That would be considered job training, right?”
“That’s a great idea, but I can’t dive now.” Or maybe ever. “I know someone who can though. Diving really centered me when I was going through some pretty hard times. I mean, sure, I was in the military when I started, but that doesn’t have to be the case now, does it? It could open doors they wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“So, what’s stopping you, then?” Julie’s enthusiasm stoked his.
Ben took a couple more bites of his cold burger. What is stopping me? He thought about Becky and the fact she wasn’t speaking to him, and made the decision that their venture was bigger than the two of them. He would not sit it out or take no for an answer.
“You know what, Julie. I was stopping me, and I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Good for you! I think that calls for strawberry cheesecake, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“How about you make that three slices of strawberry cheesecake?” Ben looked up to see Jason standing at their table. “I thought you got lost on your way back to the house, Benni Boy, and thought I better check up on you.”
Jason turned toward Julie and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Is he driving you crazy yet, Jules?” He slid a chair over. “I can take him off your hands if you need me to.”
“I’m barely surviving, but I think I can make it through dessert. By then, I might have reached my limit, though.”
They laughed at Ben’s expense, and Jason flagged the server down.
Ben was at a loss for words as he took in their comradery. “So, I take it you know each other?”
“Nope. I just randomly seek out strange women and join them for dessert. It’s kind of my thing,” Jason said.
“Yeah, and I especially liked that he’s psychic, since he knew my name.” She stood up to face Jason. “Consider me dazzled and amazed.” She bowed, fluttering her cloth napkin in Jason’s direction.
“Oh sure, go ahead, make fun of the man with a brain injury. I see how it is,” Ben said, as if deeply hurt, then cracked a smile. “Guess it’s strawberry cheesecake for three then,” he said to the server. “And please add a strong black coffee. I’m going to need it to keep up with these two.”
