Patchwork to Healing, page 18
“So, are you solving third-world problems?” Jason asked.
“Not quite, but I think Ben has a pretty good start for some kids in transition.”
“Cool. You patched things up with Becky, then?”
Ben grimaced and shook his head. “Not yet.”
Jason gave him a stern look. “You gotta make it happen, Bud.”
“I know, but it’s in her court now.”
Julie swallowed the last bite of her cheesecake and put her fork down. “Wow, Ben, after what you just told me about your project being bigger than the two of you, you’re going to sit back and see what she decides to do?”
“Julie’s right, Ben. You don’t have time to just sit back. You told me yourself that there’s a clock ticking.”
Ben looked at Julie, then Jason. They sat staring at him. I’ve never shied away from what I wanted. So why am I allowing Becky’s stubbornness, or whatever it is she’s dealing with, dictate our future? We need to do this. Mrs. G. chose us to do this. We just need to move forward—together.
Ben got up from the table and dropped his napkin on his plate. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
Chapter 28
Rebecca stood at her kitchen counter slathering butter over a warm slice of Emily’s freshly baked bread, then scooped up a spoonful of leftover beef stew. She closed her eyes while she chewed, enjoying its flavor. Mrs. Getchel had taught her how to make the beef stew on a cold winter day, much like today.
She’d come home from school feeling rather down, per her usual self, and Mrs. Getchel was browning steak tips on the stove. Rebecca had always enjoyed seeing her wearing an apron and working in the kitchen. Mrs. Getchel was a stocky, large bosomed woman of average height. She had graying chin-length hair, and wore her wire-rimmed glasses on the tip of her upturned nose.
Rebecca recalled standing in front of the pot of browning beef as Mrs. Getchel wrapped her arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close, with an added squeeze for good measure. She’d talked her through the step-by-step instructions on how to make a great beef stew. Rebecca smiled at the realization that she could reproduce the great beef stew.
Mrs. Getchel had taught her much over the years, and Rebecca was grateful to have had her in her life. She placed her soup bowl in the dishwasher while she contemplated the next quilt she’d make. Rebecca was more caught up than she thought she would be with the quilts for her list of kids. She’d sent a few away for some long-arm stitchwork. The others she’d machine stitch or tie, but for now, she needed to do something for herself.
I’ll make one for me and Mrs. Getchel.
Rebecca went to her closet full of fabric and picked colors that represented the home that had now become hers. The fabrics comprised a pale yellow for the house, white for the porch, green and floral for the gardens and trees. And if she was lucky, she’d use one of Mrs. Getchel’s aprons for the edging. This tiny quilt would hang in the living room, next to the one she’d done of the home where she’d grown up.
Rebecca stood at her worktable and drew the designs on paper. She carefully measured each shape and placed the pieces together like a puzzle. Time had gotten away from her, and she could feel an ache in her lower back and hands.
Rebecca examined her overall layout and was pleased with its outcome. Before calling it a night, she removed each stencil paper and laid them on top of the fabric that they belonged to. Next, she set up her portable Janome sewing machine. It would be easier to use for such a small project. Then she called it a night.
Getting her mind off Benjamin and Stepping Stones for a while was good. Thinking of what they could have had together tended to derail her. She’d lived too much of her life wishing things could have been different.
She removed her clothes and before she threw on her nightshirt, her reflection in the mirror caught her attention. Rebecca stood stoically while she stared at her image, hating her vast patchwork of rippled skin. Not only was her scarred skin ugly, but it represented the worst of herself. It stood for her selfishness, stubbornness, and rebellious nature. Her body was a tapestry of anguish, regret, and unforgiveness. At times, she thought she shouldn’t hide it, but show it to the world as a warning of who she was.
Yes, it was good that Ben was going back. He deserved better than what she offered. She deserved to remain alone.
Rebecca pulled her nightshirt over her head and welcomed sleep. In sleep, the world wasn’t real. It couldn’t torment her the way her waking moments taunted her throughout the day. She felt as if the day teased her into thinking that life could be different, but it ended with another bitter pill to swallow. She cursed herself for thinking that maybe her fate had changed, that Ben was her answer to a new hope—a new beginning. Now, she had absolutely no idea of what her future could hold.
She finally climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up under her chin, hoping sleep would come easily. Ben still circled around in her mind. She touched her lips, recalling his mouth upon hers, and wished she could still feel his warmth. Did he ever think of her? Was he sleeping and dreaming wonderful dreams of the sea and all it held in its depth, or was he, too, lying awake wondering what his future held?
Rebecca worried for him and prayed that he’d get to dive again someday. It brought him solace and joy. She couldn’t help but think of Ben in Hawaii and imagined what his world was like there. Rebecca pictured him frolicking in the waves like they used to do when they were kids. Oh, how she longed to see him carefree again.
He’d been a lanky kid, but now, his shoulders were broad. He had muscular legs, and could pick her up and throw her over his shoulder as if she were a ragdoll. She smiled, thinking about his excitement. Had she only laughed instead of screamed, their lives would be on a totally different track—one with a future together.
Sleep didn’t come. Soon the blanket felt heavy on her chest. She kicked it off with a fit, rolled over as if she were a child having a tantrum, and pounded her pillow. Rebecca didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t ready to let go of Benjamin Daly. He’d come back into her life for a reason, but for what? Perhaps he was only there as a catalyst for her new venture, and she was meant to pursue it on her own.
She certainly couldn’t consider him a romantic interest because he hadn’t given her any sign that he was attracted to her, with the exception of that spontaneous kiss, and she was sure he’d quickly regretted that kiss. Rebecca thought again about his warm, soft lips and the feel of his strong arms around her. She shook her head, rejecting the impossible.
No, she thought, he’s leaving.
An aching of sorrow and disappointment found its way in to her heart. The same ache that came after every loss in her life. Before long, her sorrow turned into acceptance. She’d lived without him before, and she could live without him again.
Rebecca fell into a restless sleep and woke with a jolt. She remembered something the lawyer had said, scrambled through the papers scattered on her desk. Hands shaking, she reread the part about the trust’s conditions. Develop and operate equally and jointly. There was no work around. They must do this together, all of it, or they’ll disappoint Mrs. Getchel by failing to fulfill her wishes. And she’d lose her home.
Chapter 29
Daylight was breaking as Ben lay in bed or as near as you could call a bed. His back and shoulder hurt from the mattress. His feet hung over the end in the too-small a bed. He was grateful to have a place to stay, but it would not do for much longer. He sat up and rubbed his hand. It had fallen asleep, and he couldn’t feel his pinky finger. As soon as the tingling of his hand awakened, he stirred from the bed.
Clyde, Jason’s cat, leaped onto the bed and meowed so intensely that he sounded as if he were half starving, but Clyde’s looks suggested otherwise. He rubbed the cat’s head before placing it back on the floor, then pulled on a pair of jeans. “Let’s get you something to eat, fatso.”
Ben’s bare feet were cold against the tile floor. He scooped out Clyde’s food. Clyde’s black-and-gray fur weaved around Ben’s ankles in anticipation of his breakfast.
“My turn now,” he said as he gave the cat another rub on the head.
He opened the fridge and took out a container of almond milk, then rummaged through the cupboard for some cereal. He grabbed the Wheaties and poured them in to a bowl, then peeled a banana. As he sliced the banana, he noticed Jason’s car wasn’t in the driveway. He tried to remember if he’d heard him come home in the night, but nothing came to mind, and Ben figured Jason had left for work early.
Once again, the cat graced Ben with his presence. This time Clyde had leaped onto the table and poked his nose toward Ben’s bowl. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “This is all mine.”
As Clyde pushed his nose toward Ben’s, Ben reciprocated. Clyde’s yellow eyes peered into his as if searching for his deepest thoughts. “You don’t want to hear about it, you fur ball.”
The cat meowed as if he disagreed.
“Okay, you asked for it,” Ben said in a soothing tone.
Clyde slid his body down, sprawling across the table.
“Didn’t Jason teach you it’s not polite for you to lie on the table?” Ben waited for Clyde to respond. “No? Well, who am I to tell you otherwise, then?”
Ben scooped up the last slice of banana with his spoon while he considered what his deepest thoughts actually were. “Well, Clyde, I gotta tell ya. I’m confused, and I don’t take that lightly. I’m usually pretty decisive.” Ben stared at the cat’s mesmerizing eyes. “But you don’t know Becky Mills. She’d got me befuddled and, I dare say, her eyes are darn near as beautiful as yours.”
“So, you’re hitting on cats now?” Jason said as he sluggishly made himself a coffee.
“Good Lord, Jason, you about scared the crap out of me. You just getting home?”
“Nah, well, kind of. Stayed out until the wee hours. Sure as heck feels like an all-nighter, though.”
“Where’s your car?” Ben once again looked out the window. Jason’s spot in the driveway was empty.
“Left it at the Inn,” Jason said dryly.
“Oh?” Ben leaned back in his chair and shifted in his seat to see Jason more directly, “Do tell.”
Jason removed his coffee cup from the Keurig and pulled out a chair. “Julie and I stayed in the common room most of the night talking.”
“Talking,” Ben said with a snicker.
“Yes, talking.”
Ben considered Jason’s story, and he could see how that might be possible. She was a pretty great conversationalist, and Jason was too.
“So, what’s with the car, then?”
Jason took a drink from his mug. “Well, between the drinks, the warm fire, and exhaustion, let’s just say I wasn’t in the best driving shape.”
“She had to drive you home?” Ben laughed and slapped his hand on the table.
“For the love of all things holy.” Jason cradled his head in his hands. “Please, take it down a notch, will ya?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ben said in a near holler. “I didn’t mean to give you a headache, because believe you me, I know what a headache feels like.”
“You’re an ass,” Jason said in a whisper.
“Maybe you should go take a nappy and sleep it off.”
“I can’t. Got a meeting at work.”
“Alrighty then.” Ben stood to grab a coffee for himself. “Need a lift to your car, or is Julie picking you up?”
“She was my second choice.” Jason held his mug to his chin, breathing in the heat.
“I’m flattered.” Ben gave him a devilish grin and sat down.
“Oh, get over yourself. I figured you’d be up with nothing better to do, and that way, Julie could get some sleep.”
“Well, don’t you have me all figured out. That’s me—the guy with nothing better to do.” Ben leaned back in the chair and rubbed his finger on the rim of his coffee cup. “How long do you think I should give her to call me before I try to reach out again?”
“Rebecca?”
“Yes, Becky.” Ben threw his hands up. “Who else do you think I could be talking about?”
“Well, you were taking a pretty good liking to Clyde.”
Ben swatted Jason on the back of the head. “Now look who’s the ass.”
“What the heck!” Jason moaned as he rubbed his temples. “Seriously. I need to be at work by 9:00. Are you good with that?”
“You bet.” Ben downed the rest of his coffee.
“Thanks—and about Rebecca. Don’t tell me you didn’t go see her last night and deal with it?”
“No, I thought maybe it was best if—”
“Ben, buddy, you know you can’t wait for her to call you. You know her well enough to know that she’s stubborn and always has been. I’d suggest you make another move before too much distance grows between you again.”
Ben let that percolate for a moment, then nodded. “I’m going to hop in the shower, and I’d suggest you grab yourself another cup of coffee.” Ben set his mug in the sink and headed toward the door. “And Jason . . . thanks.”
Jason waved him off. “Don’t mention it.”
Clyde scurried to catch up to Ben. He skidded around the corner and up the stairs, nearly tripping Ben as he climbed the treads. “You are an ornery little guy, aren’t you?”
Clyde’s tail pointed straight up as he pranced the rest of the way up the steps.
Once again, Ben’s thoughts drifted to Becky. Her reaction to cats surprised him. He took her as someone who might enjoy them for company. He found it odd that she’d included a cat in her quilted picture that hung in her living room.
Ben splashed warm water on his face and lathered up, recalling Becky’s bathroom debacle of broken glass, cut fingers, and busted toe. But it was her scarred skin that caused him to wonder, What happened to you, Becky? His heart broke for her. He couldn’t imagine the pain she must have endured. A shiver went up his spine before he took the last upward swipe of his razor.
The steaming shower felt good on his cold feet. He made a mental note to purchase some slippers along with a list of other items he’d need because he planned to stay in York Harbor for the rest of the winter. He hurried along so Jason wouldn’t be too rushed, especially because he was running at an exceptionally slow pace. Ben laughed silently, picturing how the rest of Jason’s day would go.
***
Ben pulled into the parking lot at the main gate of the base. Jason unbuckled, climbed out of the passenger’s seat.
“Go see her. Now,” Jason said, then shut the door behind him. Just about the time Jason made it to the front of the vehicle, Ben laid on the horn, nearly knocking Jason off his feet. Ben gave him a big smile and a wave goodbye, and Jason gave Ben the finger.
The sun was shining, and the water sparkled in the light. He pulled his shades off the visor and set them on his nose while he drove away. Ben assumed Becky would be at work by now. He’d check if her car was in the drive at Proposals and see if she could get away for a few minutes. If she wasn’t there, he’d head to her apartment.
A gust of wind brought on an unexpected snow squall that lessened visibility, but he found it mesmerizing and beautiful as he took the corners. Oh, how he’d missed New England. The snow tempted him to roll down his windows to take in the coastal air, but he didn’t want to fill his backseat with the fluffy stuff, so thought better of it.
Ben arrived at Becky’s apartment. His chest quickened when he saw her car was in the driveway and questioned whether he should intrude. Maybe she was getting ready for work. Then he realized that if she was working her morning shift, she would have left by now.
He made a U-turn and parked in front of her place, pulled his sunglasses off and rested them on the dash, then stepped out of the car and straightened his jacket. The snow squall had turned into a more consistent steam, so he turned up his collar to the wind and hurried to her front door’s landing. He didn’t know what to expect. He just hoped she wouldn’t slam the door in his face.
A quilted wreath wrapped with fabric patterns of holly berries, red and green plaid stripes decorated her door. A crumpled bow stared back at him. He grabbed hold of the bow and tugged on the loops to straighten the wire.
There, that’s better. His nerves vanished, and he knocked on the door.
Chapter 30
Rebecca had seen Ben’s car pull up. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she spied through the window curtain. What is he doing? It appeared he was sticking a note on her door or something, then he knocked, which made her jump out of her skin. She momentarily considered pretending she wasn’t there, but she knew he had to know she was.
Her heart raced at the thought of him seeing her in her not-expecting-company appearance, and spying no less. She hadn’t showered, and still wore her nightshirt and robe. She couldn’t remember if she’d brushed her teeth. She certainly hadn’t run a comb through her hair.
He knocked again. Dang it.
“I’ll be right there!” she said, as she ran to the bathroom. He’s just going to have to wait.
She grabbed a pair of jeans out of the dryer and put them on, pulled a sweatshirt over her head, swished her mouth with some mouthwash, and ran her hands through her hair. By the time she’d reached the door, her hands were shaking, and her adrenaline was in overdrive. I’m not ready for this. He’d said she was supposed to reach out to him when and if she was ready to see him. And ready she was not.
Rebecca could see him through the sidelights of the door. You’re always so put together, she thought, and dang it if you aren’t gorgeous.
She didn’t know what to expect. She hadn’t seen him since his surgery. She had butterflies in her stomach and, yet, she was still hurt he planned to leave.
