Page 5 of Becoming Ben

I’m just typing my name to the end and getting ready to hit send when a whirlwind throws my dorm door open.

“Guess what?! I found a place for you to live!” Mandy is color in motion, as always. “My dad has a whole floor in his house that he’s not even using, and he said you could stay with him for the summer!”

I blink at her for a second, processing what she said, and then jerk my finger away from the computer so I don’t accidentally hit send before I’m ready. “Wait, your dad? The one I met at the wedding?”

“Yep,” Mandy pops the P on the end of the word. “He has a couple extra bedrooms and a bathroom he never uses. He said you could stay there, no problem. You’re not allergic to dogs, right?”

“No, I’m not allergic,” I say absently as I roll the idea over in my mind. Having a place to sleep instead of the shelter or my car while I save up money to rent a room off campus would be a lifesaver. If he didn’t charge me too much, I could probably make it work. I’d probably still have to turn down the internship, but the path to my own place to live could be a lot simpler if staying with Ben for a little while is an actual option.

“Are you sure he wants a roommate?” I ask Mandy. “I could be wrong, but it doesn’t sound like he needs one.”

“Depends what you mean by ‘needs,’” Mandy answers, as she sits and bounces on my bed. “I think he’d like to have someone around. You have to be careful, or he’ll try to take care of you.” She sends me a mischievous grin.

I know she’s teasing, but the idea of Ben 'taking care' of me sends a string of entirely inappropriate thoughts through my head. On the outside, I roll my eyes at Mandy. On the inside, I’m taking a quick inventory. Is this going to be a problem? I’ve been attracted to guys before and managed to get along with them. We’re both adults. Surely, it would be fine. There’s no real indication that Ben is even interested in men. I’m making a complication where there doesn’t need to be one.

“If you think he’d be fine with it, it sounds great to me,” I finally tell Mandy. “I’ve got a couple more finals to take, and then I’ll be ready to move. I’m sure staying with your dad would be better than stealing a bed from the shelter.” I twirl a pencil between my fingers and lean back in my desk chair, contemplating the leap I’m about to take. “Should I text him and set up a time to talk about it?”

“You can.” She shrugs. “Or you can just show up on his doorstep with your bags. I guarantee it doesn’t matter to him either way.”

I toss the pencil at her and make an exasperated teasing noise. “I would never,” I tell her. “And besides, I have no idea where his house even is.”

“Ooooh, you’re going to love it!” She tosses the pencil back to me, then gestures animatedly as she describes the house, the yard, and the hiking trails in detail. It sounds idyllic and too good to be true. I make encouraging noises in the right places so she knows I’m listening, but the other half of my brain is worrying about how much it’s going to cost and whether or not the sparks between Ben and me are going to be a problem.

When she finally runs out of things to describe, I ask her to send me her dad’s number so I can get ahold of him to set something up. When my phone dings with her contact card, I glance at the screen, and my stomach makes a funny, nervous leap. Where the name should be, it says “Daddy” with a heart emoji.

I thank Mandy and stand to hug her. I’m grateful that she thought of me and that she’s such a good friend. I’m not going to repay that by getting some weird crush on her dad. She goes to get her books so we can study for our finals together, and I pull out my notes to study for the two I have tomorrow. I also send Ben a quick text asking if I can stop by tomorrow after my last final.

Hi Ben, this is Trey. Mandy said you might have a room I could rent for the summer. Could I stop by tomorrow around 4 to talk about it?

His reply is almost instant and makes my stomach flutter again.

Sure!!!

That’s an adorable number of exclamation points, and I can hear him saying it in the cheerful, friendly tone he had at the wedding. I’m really going to have to work at keeping these feelings under control.

7

Ben

I’ve been excited ever since Trey texted me yesterday, and I don’t really know why. I am looking forward to the possibility of having someone to cook for, but he might not want to eat meals with me, or he might only eat kale, or he might never actually be here at all.

We might have completely different tastes in movies and music. He probably won’t want to watch movies in the living room with me anyway. But we might go hiking together. He said at the wedding that he liked hiking. That would be fun. I hope he likes dogs and doesn’t mind dog hair.

That thought sends me off into a burst of cleaning that lasts most of the morning, chasing the endless tumbleweeds of dog hair around the house with a vacuum. When I’m convinced that I captured them all, I put the vacuum away and make myself sit down and take a breath. I’m just helping out a friend of Mandy’s. There’s no reason to be so anxious slash excited about it. Trey seemed like a very nice guy at the wedding, and I’m sure everything will be fine. I don’t even know where the nerves come from. Hopefully, we can be friends. Having just moved, I don’t really have many friends in the area. It would be nice to have someone to do things with occasionally. That’s really what I miss most about being married. I’ve never been a super social person, and one or two people in my circle are all I need to be happy. My dogs aren’t quite enough, and I promised myself that once I got settled here, I would join some sort of club or group to meet people. I’ve even found some hiking clubs online, but I haven’t reached out yet. I have all kinds of excuses, but if I’m honest with myself, it comes down to nervousness. I take a deep breath and force myself to go into my office and focus on work for the rest of the afternoon.

When the doorbell rings at four o’clock, I’ve succeeded well enough that it startles me, which I congratulate myself for on the way to the door. When I swing it open, instead of “Hi, come on in!” which is what I meant to say, what comes out of my mouth is, “Hi on in!” Following that amazing mastery of the English language, I proceed to facepalm myself hard enough that there is an audiblesmacksound, and I involuntarily “eep” in discomfort.

Trey had a polite smile on his face when I first opened the door, but it’s quickly replaced by a look of concerned confusion, followed by his brilliant grin as I recover from hitting myself and stand there awkwardly. I’m pretty sure I’m also turning red. I have the sense to step back from the door and gesture him inside, and I’m temporarily saved from further embarrassment by the dogs, who have obviously been waiting behind me for him to step over the threshold so that they can protect the house by loving him to death. Daisy sits right in front of him so he can’t go any farther, then does excited bounce spins on her butt and whines, waiting for him to pet her. Della circles around both of them several times, then stands up on her back legs, asking for her share of attention. Thankfully, neither dog jumps on him. I’ve managed to train them that much, but it’s still a lot of dog all at once.

“I’m sorry, I swear I pay attention to them. It’s just that you’re new and exciting,” I apologize as I try to get the dogs to give him some space.

“It’s okay, they’re such good dogs, aren’t you? Yes, you are,” Trey says in that gooey voice that people reserve for babies and pets. He kneels down into the licking danger zone and gives both girls scratches, rubs, and pets. “Are they boys or girls?” he asks me.

“They’re both girls, sisters, in fact,” I tell him. “The lighter one is Daisy, and the darker one is Della.”

“Oh, yes, you’re pretty girls, aren’t you? Yes, you are. You’re so, so pretty.” Trey tells the dogs as he stands back up with a hand on each one.

“So I guess I don’t have to worry about you being okay with the dogs,” I say. That had been one of the many worries this morning.

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