Remember Us, page 4
He threaded his fingers through her own. “What do you say we get started?”
They looked at each other. What passed between them was memories of many times just like this, where they deliberately talked past each other, ignoring their difficulties.
Make no mistake, she cared deeply for Ben. She often told people how proud she was of her brilliant, successful scientist husband. It was all true, of course. But their son’s untimely death had taken a toll on their relationship. Lately, he seemed as unhappy as she.
And it was her fault.
Ben smiled at her then, but it was tired and washed out—a smile that didn’t reach his dark eyes. In fact, it wasn’t his smile at all, really, not the one that had coaxed her so completely into love once upon a time.
She first met Ben at a Super Bowl party of a friend of a friend. They were both attending the University of Oregon at the time and had sat next to each other on the couch and watched the game, eating guacamole and laughing at the commercials. Anytime she needed a beer, Ben stood up, took her empty bottle, and returned with a full one. Throughout the entire time, wherever he was at the party, his eyes kept coming back to her, as if he was making sure she was still there. At the end of the night, she was happy to give him her number when he asked.
It was true—opposites attract. Ben was curious and a master at observation, with excellent numeric and statistical skills. While having a penchant for precision, he was also patient, as one who repeated detailed tests on aquatic life repeatedly before accepting and publishing a finding would have to be.
Olivia, on the other hand, found anything to do with data and numbers completely dull. In fact, she barely kept track of her checkbook balance. Her strengths lent to being artistic. She was sensitive, creative, and willing to embrace imperfections, often seeing flaws as things of beauty. Where some saw black and white, she experienced life in vast color—even when the hues were painful.
Their first date had been at a quiet coffee shop, where they sat for hours talking about their professors, their favorite books, and how to make a great hollandaise without the sauce breaking. There was an art to adding the egg yolks to the hot lemon butter. Okay, maybe that conversation had been more her talking, but Ben leaned forward and listened like what she was saying was of grave import and he was taking mental notes.
In the weeks that followed, they’d been inseparable. Olivia’s every waking moment had been spent thinking about him. He made her feel so…cherished.
With Ben, she’d felt free to be herself without reservation or constraint. He gave her the freedom to be quirky, to view life in her unique way, and to enjoy the quiet and solitude that fed her soul.
The first time they’d made love was after a day of skiing on Mt. Hood. They’d peeled off wet coats and sweaters in front of a roaring fire. She looked up to find Ben watching her intently. She smiled back at him, and he closed the space between them in a stride, his chest brushing hers as he looked down and took her chin in his hand. He kissed her once, gently, his lips so full and soft she felt herself leaning into him almost against her will. Then he backed away and held her gaze long enough to say her name as if each syllable held a weight so dear it deserved his entire attention.
They married that spring in an intimate ceremony held in the white-steepled church in Pacific Bay. She wore a ring of flowers in her hair and a simple white dress that flowed and brushed her bare ankles as she walked the aisle. After trying for over two years, they were delighted to learn she was pregnant. Timmy was born on a sunny summer morning. As the baby was placed in her arms still wet, his tiny face scrunched against the bright lights, she and Ben exchanged a look of pure awe. They were parents.
And then they weren’t.
“Liv? You okay?” Ben’s brows knit with concern.
She assured him she was fine.
Ryan looked at her with concern as well. “C’mon,” he said, as a distraction. “Let’s go exploring.”
Happy to comply, Olivia forced a smile. “Yes, let’s.”
Together, they toured the exhibits, including a kiosk that provided information on weather systems and how they affected their local coastal waters, beaches, and marine wildlife. They saw eels, sea otters, puffins with bright orange beaks, and an octopus. Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she listened to Ben tell Ryan that the octopus was a mollusk, a soft-bodied invertebrate consisting of three parts—the arms, the head, and the mantle, which held all its internal organs.
“See that right there?” Ben pointed.
Ryan leaned close to the tank glass. “Yeah?
“Well, that large muscular tube is called the siphon. The octopus performs its famous backward swim by blasting water through that tube.”
Ryan was clearly fascinated. Ben ruffled his hair. “Wanna see something else?”
Their young guest responded without hesitation. “Sure!”
Ben placed his open hand against the glass near where the suction cups held fast to the glass. “Watch this.”
He slowly moved his hand. The octopus followed. He moved his hand again. Again, the octopus followed.
“Cool!” Ryan exclaimed. “Let me try.”
Ben was clearly enjoying the boy’s interest. “Octopuses display so many characteristics to distinguish them from mammals, such as humans, that it’s hard to enumerate all of them. Consider the fact that they have three hearts, for example, or that they can change their color at will, not only to escape predators but to communicate with each other. One such defining characteristic is the color of their blood. It’s blue.”
Ryan’s head whipped around. “Are you serious?”
Ben nodded. “The red color in human blood comes from iron-rich hemoglobin. The blood coursing through the veins of an octopus contains hemocyanin, which is copper-based. Copper is more efficient for transporting oxygen at low temperatures, but it makes the animals highly sensitive to changes in pH. For this reason, octopuses may be more vulnerable to ocean acidification than other marine animals.”
“Where did you learn all that stuff?” Clearly, Ben had a new fan.
“Lots and lots of studying. C’mon. You ready to see more?”
Before the afternoon was over, Ben had taken his new protégé out to the Aquarium Sciences building where his office was located. They spent time poring over Ben’s current projects while her husband provided detailed explanations of the aquarium systems and the live specimens in the animal holding lab. He even let Ryan help him measure the pectoral fins of a manta ray.
It was nearly dark when they finished up. As they all walked out to the car, Olivia was struck with how Ben might have spent a day like this with Timmy, if things had been different.
She shook the thought from her head before the notion could bring her down again. “Hey, you two. It’s late and I don’t want to cook. Who’s up for pizza?”
Ryan’s face broke into a wide smile. “We’re in. Right, Ben?” He high-fived with her husband. “I like pepperoni.”
“Me too. I’m starved.” Ben glanced over the top of Ryan’s head in her direction and smiled.
She smiled back. “Then pepperoni it is.”
7
That night, after cleaning up the kitchen, they all retired into the living room with a large bowl of popcorn to watch television.
“So, what does a kid your age like to watch?” Ben asked, grabbing the remote. He lodged his legs up on the footstool.
Ryan shrugged. “I like movies.”
“Yeah? Anything in particular?”
Ryan dug his hand deep inside the bowl of popcorn and brought a handful to his open mouth. “I like Star Wars movies,” he answered, his words now muffled from chewing.
Olivia handed him a glass of root beer. “I bet Ben can find one to watch.”
Ben pointed the remote and began thumbing through the selections. “So, where did you say your mom and Cam took off to?”
“Be careful, Ryan. Don’t choke,” Olivia warned.
Ben gave her a warning look before continuing to scroll through the options on the television screen.
She wanted to defend her comment, mention it was better to be safe than sorry. She didn’t. Did she really have to remind him what could happen?
Yielding to her warning, Ryan made a show of swallowing. He took a quick drink before going on to answer. “They went on a cruise to Belize with some friends from church.” He took a second drink of his root beer. “Belize used to be called British Honduras and it’s located off the eastern coast of Central America.”
“Wow.” Ben pulled his attention from the television screen. “You’re a smart guy.” He looked in her direction and laughed.
Olivia reached for another piece of pizza. “His mom says Ryan is a great student. He studies hard and is always at the top of his class.”
“That so? Well, keep it up. You might even qualify to become a marine biologist someday,” Ben told him.
“That’d be way cool.” Ben placed his root beer glass on the side table. “There—that one.” He pointed to an icon on the screen. “Have you seen The Rise of Skywalker? It’s my favorite.”
Ben pressed the button on the remote. “Sounds good.”
For the next hours, they sat and watched the Star Wars sequel. Together, they rooted for the Resistance as they faced off with the First Order in an epic battle in the galaxy.
When the credits rolled, she patted Ryan’s leg. “Time for bed, buddy. We have church tomorrow.”
He didn’t argue. “Night, Ben.” He rubbed his eyes and followed her down the hall.
“Goodnight,” Ben called after them.
“Did you have fun today?” Olivia asked as she helped Ryan get ready for bed.
“Yeah, I did. It was a really fun day.”
After he brushed his teeth, Olivia got him all tucked in.
“Hey, Olivia?”
“Yeah?”
“My mom always prays with me before I go to sleep.”
The statement hung in the air. She nodded and returned to the bed, knelt beside the mattress.
Ryan folded his hands and shut his eyes. “Boy, God. This was a great day! Thanks for everything. Let my mom and Cam have a good time on their trip, and help them return safely. And—” He paused. “Bless Ben and Olivia real good too. Okay? In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Olivia smiled. “Goodnight, Ryan. Sweet dreams.” She stood, turned the light off and stared at his form in the dark, fighting the lump that was building over what might have been.
She shook off the feeling and shut Ryan’s door quietly behind her before heading for her own bedroom.
Ben was already in bed. He leaned against a stack of pillows, reading. He looked up when she entered. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her jeans.
Ben laid the book he’d been reading on the table. “Today was a good day.”
Olivia nodded with a half-smile. “It was. Ryan’s a good kid. He just told me he had a great time at the aquarium. Thanks for making it special for him.”
“Yeah, no problem. I enjoyed it too.”
She squinted at him suspiciously, and he laughed. “Okay, yeah. I had my doubts about keeping him, but it’s turning out okay. Even better than okay. I mean, you’re right. He’s a great kid.”
She stood and unbuttoned her blouse. She blushed, sensing he was watching and moved for the bathroom. There, she finished disrobing and put on her nightgown, the good one which was hanging on a hook at the back of the bathroom door.
She washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she brushed out her hair. In a moment of impulse, she spritzed a tiny bit of cologne at her breastbone—the cologne Ben had bought her for Christmas last year. He’d accused her of never using it. It wasn’t true. She’d used it many times.
She wondered if he was still awake and leaned out the doorway with caution to see if he was asleep. His eyes were open and his hands were tucked behind his head.
“You coming to bed, Liv?” he asked when he saw her.
“Yeah, in a minute.” She quickly squirted a dab of hand lotion and busied herself rubbing it in. Finally, she casually moved for her side of the bed.
He opened the covers for her.
Olivia’s heart began to pound unexpectedly. Her mind raced for an excuse to head back to the bathroom, or maybe the kitchen. Finding none, she punched the pillow to fluff it, then climbed in beside her husband and quickly clasped the bed covers nervously to her chest.
Ben reached and turned off the lamp. “You smell good,” he said.
In the dark, she felt him lean closer to her—tentative, like he was unsure of himself. His fingers touched her skin. He slowly traced her arm.
She didn’t move.
His hand gradually traveled to her stomach. His caress was slow and light, sending a tingly feeling through her. He paused, gathering his nerve. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, his voice heavy.
She didn’t.
Instead, she thought of the wonderful day they’d had together, of how his eyes had watched her, how the sound of his laughter made her feel full and complete.
Shaking, she reached and touched the side of his face.
Ben wrapped her in an embrace. He whispered her name. “Liv.” The sound was filled with longing, of needs gone long unmet.
She wanted him too. She did.
She leaned back and let the feel of his fingers in her hair whisk her to another time, another place.
Ben moaned.
Then, his lips and fingers were everywhere and she was moaning too, her back arching with need, and then she felt him molded to her, his breath hot on her neck.
“Ben,” she said, between ragged breaths. “Oh, Ben.”
A baby cried.
Olivia shoved Ben back with titanic force, bolted up. “Timmy?”
She threw the covers back, scrambled from the bed in a panic and raced for the bedroom door.
Her hand was on the doorknob before it hit her.
Timmy wasn’t crying—her baby was gone.
The back of her hand flew to her mouth as reality sunk in. Not bothering to muffle her immediate sobs, she wrapped her arms around her naked body and folded to the floor.
“Damn it, Olivia!” Ben pounded the bed with his fist. He climbed out from under the sheets and stood, silhouetted by moonlight shining through the window. “Damn it!”
The next thing she heard was the bathroom door slamming.
Olivia wiped at her tear-stained face, recovered her voice. “Ben?” She waited. When her husband failed to respond, she drew a ragged breath and whispered into the shadowed night air. “Ben, I’m sorry.”
8
Ben stood at his office window, staring out. On this cold, gray morning, the Pacific Bay skyline seemed to sigh beneath a heavy lid of clouds. Drizzling rain obscured the view of boat masts in the bay and softened the hard steel edges of the bridge spanning the inlet in the distance.
Behind him, his intercom buzzed.
He returned to his desk. “What is it, Edith?” He immediately winced, hearing the harshness in his own voice.
“Calling to remind you to call Dr. Anais about the medical vaccinations for the otters.” Her voice didn’t hint she’d taken any offense to his curt tone.
“Thank you, Edith. You’re a godsend,” he told her, trying to make up regardless.
Ben sat down at his desk, pondering what had been festering inside him since last night. It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand Olivia’s sadness. He, too, knew the agony of losing their only child, had experienced that terrible loss. He’d also wondered plenty of times whether his wife’s fragile emotional state made it wise to consider trying to be a parent again anytime soon. Maybe ever.
Ben could feel his hurt turning into a brittle shell of anger.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t shown his broken wife compassion, hadn’t held her through endless sleepless nights of never-ending tears. He’d grieved right alongside her, shared her pain and confusion, asked with her, “Why them? Why Timmy?”
When you lose a child, grief comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. The waves of sorrow are one hundred feet tall and come at you with fierce intensity, crash over you without mercy. You can barely breathe. For a while, all you can do is hang on to something, someone—anything. And remain afloat. Stay alive.
Over time, the waves come a bit farther apart. They never stop coming, and somehow you really don’t want them to. Yet, you can see them approaching and prepare yourself. You learn to breathe, to function. And you remind yourself that in between the waves, there is still life.
It’d been over two years. Fiercely holding tight to the gut-wrenching loss served no purpose. They couldn’t change anything—not even their endless grief could alter the fact Timmy was gone.
The only thing they could do now was embrace the fact that their little boy was in heaven, and they were on earth. Someday, they would be reunited, which gave Ben solace. But Olivia… Well, Liv couldn’t seem to muster the courage to move on and set her eyes on their future. Somehow, she’d quit living.
He was lonely, damn it.
Truth be known, he felt as though Liv believed Timmy’s death was somehow his fault. When he wasn’t strong, when he succumbed to the notion he’d failed to protect them, that his family had crumbled on his watch. Sometimes it was all too much to bear.
Yes, he’d failed her. He had no doubt. Did she need to keep reminding him, even after all this time?
Ben looked at the floor, feeling sick. And ashamed.
Worse than the shame was the guilt. He couldn’t stand seeing Liv in pain, had sent her to months of counseling in the months after they’d buried their little boy. Hell, he’d even gone with her. Yet, nothing had helped.
No matter what he did or said, he could still see the hurt in her eyes, in the way her smile wouldn’t quite bloom. Everything he did, everything he was, seemed to disappoint her. He was the bad guy here, there was no doubt about that, and she would remind him of it in a million tiny ways until he could hardly look at her—could hardly breathe even.
