Patchwork to Healing, page 26
“A little.” He turned to face her. “I know this is hard for you, but I’m listening.”
Rebecca took in a deep breath and exhaled, willing herself to continue. She ran her trembling fingers along the singed edge of the quilt. “This is here because I was selfish, and my selfish actions caused those that I loved to die. That changed the trajectory of my life forever.” Her lip quivered, and she sniffed back her tears. “It was the worse day of my life. And it was all my fault.”
Ben gathered hold of her trembling hands and held them tight as he pulled them to his lips. He kissed them tenderly and between each kiss he whispered, “Let it go, it’s time to let all of it go.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and continued. “It was the evening of Thanksgiving. I was fourteen years-old. We’d had such a great day with friends over. We’d watched football, played cards, and I had my fill of all of the pumpkin pie I could eat.” She fiddled with the edge of the quilt. “After everyone had left, I helped to clean up. It was getting pretty late at that point, and my mom started to blow out the candles. I wasn’t tired and was going to stay up, so I asked if she could leave the one in the living room lit. It smelled like sugar cookies, and I liked the glow and the way it flickered.”
Rebecca paused to collect her thoughts. Ben patiently waited for her to continue. “Mom insisted that she’d blow it out, but I promised I wouldn’t forget.”
“But you forgot,” Ben said.
“Yes, but what made it worse is that I brought the candle up to my room first. That’s when I fell asleep. My cat must have knocked it over, because the next thing I knew, smoke alarms were going off, and my parents were pulling me out of my bed. My mom grabbed this quilt off my bed and wrapped it tightly around me to keep my hair from catching fire as we fled the house.”
“I don’t understand. You all made it out?”
“Yes, we did.” Rebecca couldn’t hold in her anguish any longer. A flood of tears spilled out. Her nose ran. She could barely catch her breath.
Ben grabbed hold of her, the quilt sandwiched between them, and cradled her to his chest. He didn’t utter a word; he just rocked her in his arms.
Several minutes ticked away before she felt able to continue telling her nightmare. “When we were safely outside, awaiting the firetrucks, I realized that Greta—my cat—was still inside. Without thinking, I took off running toward the house. I can clearly remember hearing my parents shouting my name, but all I could think about was getting my cat out of the house. I still had this quilt around me. I thought I’d be safe. I was fourteen.” She shook her head at her foolishness.
“Anyway, I hadn’t realized it, but my parents had come after me. I’d heard Greta meowing through our smoke-filled living room. I grabbed her in my arms. As I headed toward the front door, the staircase collapsed. Part of it hit me and knocked me down. My quilt had slipped off one side, and Greta jumped out of my arms and bolted. That’s the last I saw of her.”
Ben caressed her shoulder as she collected her will to continue.
“The next thing I knew, a firefighter was throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the house, then I passed out. I didn’t come to right away, but when I did, I had an oxygen mask on my face, and I was calling for my mom and dad.”
“They never made it out alive.”
“Their bodies were found upstairs in my room.”
“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’m so very sorry.”
“It was all my fault. I killed my parents because I wanted a stupid candle lit, and I wanted my cat.”
“You were a kid…”
“I know, but there’s still no way of changing the fact that it was all my fault. All I have left of my past life, is this quilt, and—”
Rebecca removed the quilt from her lap and placed the fullness of it on his. She stood up and pulled her light-weight sweater over her head, revealing her scared body. “And this.”
Rebecca stood shaking as she exposed her rawest self to him. He’d seen her before, but now he saw the full extent of the damage. “This is what I deserved.” She ran her hand over her shoulder, arm, and torso. “And I need you to see me for who I am. I’m the selfish one, Ben, not you. I’m the one that hurts those around me. You deserve better than me.”
By now, she wasn’t feeling self-pity, but confidence. She knew her truth. And now so did Ben.
“Did you think I’d judge you?” Ben asked. “Because, I’d never judge you. In fact, you amaze me. You are a strong woman, Becky. Hell, I served in the military, and you’ve dealt with more pain than I ever have.”
“I’m no hero, Ben,” she said, just as the smoke alarm screeched from the kitchen.
Chapter 45
Terror shot through Rebecca’s eyes and she froze. She trembled and all he could think to do was cover her up. He grabbed the quilt and wrapped it around her.
“It’s just the chicken in the oven, Honey. It’s okay. We’re okay.” But she wasn’t okay. Rebecca was growing paler by the second and then she collapsed on the floor.
Ben was torn. He made a split-second decision to leave her alone and run to the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of the oven. The piercing sound of the alarm hurt his ears. He searched for pot holders, but gave up. He plucked a damp dish towel off the counter and dropped the oven door down. Ben grabbed the pan of charred chicken, rushed it out the door, and set it in the snow. The glass baking dish burst and shards of glass flew.
“Damn it!” With the door still wide open, the smoky air poured outside, but the alarm still shrieked. Towel still in his hands, he ran back in and waved it madly under the smoke alarm.
“Stop. For bloody hell, stop!” He wanted to hurry and get to Becky. She was in shock and he was furious that he wasn’t with her instead of waving at a blasted alarm. It finally stopped.
He ran down the hall and took the corner to her room. She sat on the floor, wrapped in her quilt, staring blankly at the floor.
“Becky. It’s me, Ben. There’s no fire. No fire. It was just smoke from the chicken, Hon. We’re okay. Everything is okay.”
Rebecca slowly turned her head toward him. “I want to go home.”
“Aah, Sweetheart, you are home. I’m right here with you.” His heart ached for her. He wanted to take her pain away and hold her until she felt safe.
“I want to go home,” she repeated.
Rebecca carefully came to her feet and removed the quilt from her shoulders. She moved past him. She retrieved her sweater off the chair and pulled it over her head, drawing it down ever so gently to cover her scars. She continued to move in slow motion toward him, and he reached for her.
Rebecca no longer shivered, but her paleness remained. He pulled her to him and held her as close as he could.
“Please take me home,” she whispered.
Ben couldn’t hold his emotions back any more. The dam broke, and tears rolled down and dampened Rebecca’s silky hair. “I want to, but I don’t know where home is.”
“Our home, Ben. Take me to our home.”
It clicked. Mrs. G’s. Alright. I’ll take you home, but we should get you some things to take with us.”
“Okay,” she said in a childlike voice.
Ben had seen a small suitcase in her closet when Rebecca had retrieved her quilt. He rummaged through a few drawers and gathered some of her necessities, then pulled a pair of slacks and blouse off their hangers, and grabbed a green sweater he’d seen her wear before. He threw them in the suitcase, then headed to the bathroom and collected her toothbrush and other personal items. Lastly, he grabbed her robe and slippers. He walked her to the living room and set her and her bag on the couch.
“I’ll be right back.” He scooted out to the car and started it up. Within a moment, he ran back inside. He checked to make sure he’d turned off the stove and the lights.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“I think so.”
He took her hand, helped her off the couch and walked her to the warm car, then buckled her in.
“I’m just going to get your bag.”
He stepped inside the living room and did a double checked before he remembered the quilt. He gathered her pillow and the quilt, then slid them into the back seat. Before long, they were on their way to Mrs. G’s.
As Rebecca sat silently beside him it occurred to him she’d said, their home; not her home. Their home.
“Sweetheart, I need to make a couple of stops, if that’s okay.”
She nodded, and he veered off Route 1. He headed toward Jason’s to collect some of his own belongings. He wanted to be near Rebecca and get out of Jason’s way, so it was the best solution. In addition, he wouldn’t have to drive back and forth while he fixed up Mrs. G’s place. Next, he’d have to ditch his rental car, which he should have done weeks ago. Keeping it was costing him a fortune, and he no longer had money to waste.
Everything he now had was subject to the adherence to Mrs. G’s wishes. They needed to get Stepping Stones up and running as soon as possible.
He couldn’t believe he’d even considered leaving so soon. I’m an idiot. He decided he’d have Smithers sell his car and ask Holokai to put together his personal belonging and his dive gear, and ship it to Maine. His apartment was rented and furnished when he moved in, so at least he didn’t have to burden anyone with that. The proceeds of his car would pay for shipping his stuff to the mainland. He’d have enough left over for a good-sized down payment on a car here. Feeling relieved at having a plan, he bolted into Jason’s, grabbed his things, and scribbled a note explaining where he’d be.
When he hopped back in the car, she was leaning her head against the side window, which he thought had to feel cold, but she didn’t seem bothered. He jacked up the heat anyway and decided to forego the second stop until after he’d settled her in at the house.
He’d looked forward to an evening without drama, and to his utter dismay, it had turned into a disaster. If the alarm hadn’t gone off, she would have been well on her way to healing the torment she’d carried with her all these years. It pissed him off that she’d had a setback.
He thought of her excitement about her quilt for the fundraiser. Then it hit him. All of her quilting equipment and supplies were at a place she no longer wanted to call home. Quilting was her lifeline, and he needed to do something so that she could continue her work.
He remembered hearing that Brady, Sophie’s husband, was a photographer, but also a general contractor.
Ben’s wheels turned in his head as they approached the house. He put his thoughts on hold and helped Rebecca out of the car. She seemed frail in his arms as they made their way inside.
He thought about what they had available in the house. Tea. We have some tea. He’d seen it in one of the cupboards, outside of that, there wasn’t much else to eat, and his stomach was growling.
“I’m going to get you some tea, and then run to the store to grab us something to eat. Would you like to stay down here and watch tv, or would you rather go lay down upstairs?”
“I’d like to lie down upstairs.”
“Okay, you got it.”
As they stood at the top of the stairs, he was perplexed as to where to bring her. It didn’t seem right to take her to her childhood bedroom, but he also wasn’t sure if she’d be comfortable in Mrs. G’s room. To his relief, she led the way to Mrs. G’s room. She curled up under the covers, and he tucked her in.
“I’ll be back up with a cup of tea.” He left a kiss on her cheek and caressed her hair back to expose the depth of her deep green eyes, eyes he couldn’t live without.
Chapter 46
Rebecca awoke and looked around the room. Where am I?
She stretched and sat up against the headboard. A full cup of tea waited on her nightstand. She dipped the tip of her finger in the liquid to see if it was hot or cold; it was stone cold. She turned to face the window. Still nighttime. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see that it was eight-fifteen. Her mind reeled as memories of the evening flashed by. She remembered telling Ben about her quilts and the auction, but the rest was fuzzy until she saw her quilt folded up at the end of the bed. I told him.
Clarity soon came, and she put the pieces of the night’s events together. I told him everything. She tossed the blankets aside and moved to the edge of the bed. Her tattered slippers sat on the floor at her feet. She smiled. Ben had been so sweet to bring them. Where is he?
Rebecca slid on her slippers and smoothed the crease of her childhood quilt. The quilt had been a turning point in her life back then, and now, it was a turning point again. She stepped into the hallway and crept downstairs. It smelled heavenly as she turned the corner, toward the kitchen.
Ben was lifting a lid off a large pot and savoring the aroma of the steam.
He hadn’t noticed her, so she watched him as he hummed to a tune. She smiled, remembering him singing at the top of his lungs in that same spot. He seemed at home, and that warmed her heart.
“Hi,” she whispered as she approached.
He turned and beamed her a broad smile. “Hi, I was just about to wake you up.”
“Whatcha making?”
“The best chicken and dumplings that you’ve ever had in your whole entire life.”
Rebecca leaned in as he brought a wooden spoon filled with broth to her lips. She’d never tasted anything so divine. She savored the richness of thyme, sage, and a hint of cloves. The texture was silky to her tongue, and it warmed her to her soul. “When can we eat?”
“Whenever you put your sweet little butt in the chair, which I hope is right now, because I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”
She took a seat at the metal-legged table and didn’t miss the fact that he’d cleared off his tools and placed one of Mrs. G’s plastic tablecloths over it. He set two shallow, wide-rimmed bowls down and ladled the steaming chicken and dumplings.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
“I promised you chicken and dumplings, and I figured what could be better to make you than a little comfort food? You needed it.” He took a seat and cut open one of the dumplings. “I hope it helps you feel a little better. You had me worried.”
“Sorry—I…”
“Becky, would you please stop apologizing? It was timing, is all. I’m sure you would have responded differently if you hadn’t just been telling me about what happened in your past. I completely understand.” He reached out and held her hand. “Okay?”
“It’s just that I feel so foolish. I must be the most high maintenance person you know.”
“Not even close. I wish you knew my friend Holokai. Now that’s someone that’s high maintenance.” The corners of his eyes wrinkled as his smile grew. “And don’t even get me started on Jason.”
“He can’t be that bad. As far as I see it, he’s been taking care of you.” Rebecca flashed a teasing grin.
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, let’s see now. I bet you never had to make me date-sit for you.” He took another spoon full and raised his eyebrows at her over the spoon’s handle.
“No, I can’t say as I’d ever had to do that.” Rebecca rolled that thought around in her mind as she too took a spoonful.
“But at least we got some chocolate cream pie out of the deal. So I guess, all things considered, it wasn’t so bad.”
She smiled in recognition. “His high maintenance was our gain.”
It tickled her to realize that the women she’d seen him with wasn’t a romantic interest, and it certainly made her feel better about him coming to see her afterwards. He’s a pretty good guy.
“Benjamin, I truly appreciate everything that you’ve done for me. You’ve been with me when I was most vulnerable. Too many times, I might add. I need you to know how regretful I am to have left you alone while you were recovering. It—”
Ben set his spoon down. “It’s water under the proverbial bridge.”
“No, it’s not. I need you to understand why.”
“Really, it’s—”
“Please. Let me continue.”
His face softened and his shoulders relaxed. “I’m listening.”
Rebecca drank a bit of her water and dabbed her mouth as she considered how she’d like to say what she needed to say. After a moment’s hesitation, she realized that she’d already laid her dirty laundry at his feet. Adding a bit more wouldn’t make a difference.
“Remember when I said that I cared too much, and then we had a big fight afterward?”
Ben nodded.
“Well, I want you to know that I meant it. What I mean by that is that everyone I care for ends up leaving me. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of something I’d caused.”
She mindlessly played with the food on her plate. “You see, it scares me because it just seems like bad things happen to those I—love.”
She didn’t dare to lift her eyes to his. How he’d take her confession would be written all over his face, and as much as she wouldn’t blame him, his rejection would be unbearable. “Safe to say, Benjamin, I was afraid for you and for me. I thought it best if I just stayed out of your life.”
He was considering all that she’d just said, but his silence ate at her insides. Her heart shattered into pieces, pieces she never could mend. She’d been broken for most of her life, and it seemed nothing could heal her wounds.
Chapter 47
Ben didn’t know how to respond. He understood the words she’d just spoken, but he couldn’t quite comprehend them. She was so afraid I’d leave her, so instead, she left me.
