Page 18 of Becoming Ben

“Okay, okay, maybe I jumped to conclusions,” I agree with a sigh.

“A little. Look, sweetie, I know that you like him. I know that a lot of people have been assholes to you. I know sometimes you are prickly as a hedgehog,” Mandy says. “But Daddy isn’t someone you have to prick.”

I am silent as what she just said lands, and then she realizes what she said, too. “Oh my god,” she says, her voice is muffled, and I can picture her with her face in her hands as she giggles. “I mean, if youwantedto, I wouldn’t mind,” she says, still giggling.

My face is flaming. I’m not ready to talk about "pricking" her father, no matter how much I’ve thought about it. My mind is blank as I attempt to come up with some reply that won’t confirm her suspicions, and it is only when it’s too late that I realize that my silence is all the confirmation Mandy needs.

“Youdo!” She sounds gleeful. “Iknewit! The way you two were dancing around one another at the wedding, and then the way you were acting when we went to Denver, not to mention how Daddy has been acting!” She almost squeals. “Oh my god, this is perfect! You already live together. You should totally ask him out for real! He’s never been with a man before that I know of, but there’s a first time for everything!”

I groan. I’m not going to tell her that I’m sure her father is attracted to men. That’s not my tea to spill. “Yeah, but you do know that for middle-aged men, ‘dating a man’ isn’t usually on their bucket list.”

“Meh. It should be. Just like ‘dating a woman’ should be on more women’s lists.” She huffs, and I assume there is an eye roll with it. “Closets are for coats, not people.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard her say that, but I chuckle anyway. The stout way she proclaims it is both endearing and hilarious. Sexuality isn’t a choice, but – according to Mandy, who gets the idea from her mother, apparently the most sex-positive person on the planet – people who were raised in the 1980s and before often either didn’t realize there was a choice or believed thattheydidn’t have a choice in who they were supposed to be with. I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m sure it was true for some people.

Was Ben one of those people? It would make sense.

“I’ll keep that under advisement, but really, Mandy, I don’t know…” I say. What I want to say is that I don’t know if he still wants me.

“All I’m saying is don’t rule it out. Daddy is a good man, and he deserves to find his person. You might be his person, but you’ll never know if you don’t try, right? You’re interested in him, aren’t you.” The last sentence wasnota question.

Fine, fine, I’ll admit it. “I find him very attractive if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s part of what I’m asking! That’s perfect! Look, Mom and Daddy got married young. Mom told me that she was Daddy’s only girlfriend, and she doesn’t think he has been on a single date since they divorced. What does that tell you? They broke up because they loved each other, but Mom needed more. She needed a spark– She needed aflame.Mitch is her flame, and she issoooohappy now! I want Daddy to be happy like that, too, and you! You deserve it!”

“How do you know that I’d light a ‘flame’ for your dad?” I ask curiously. I want to know what she’s seen that I might have missed.

“Because I’ve seen how he watches you! Heneverlooked at Mom like that. They would sit on the sofa, and she would sketch or read, and he would watch TV or work on something. One of them would put me to bed and then go back to the sofa. They werefriends,but they weren’t… you know.” She growls. “God, I don’t know how to describe what was missing! But there’s a, a, a, God, there’s this energy between you! It’s like when you’re watching a really good romance movie, and you can feel that they belong together, but they’re dancing around it, and you want to scream, ‘Just kiss already!!!’”

I wonder what Ben would do if Mandy just jumped out of her seat at dinner some night and did that. He would probably turn fuchsia and die of embarrassment. It’d be kind of cute.

I picture how adorable Ben is when he blushes and curse silently. Why is Mandy always right?

15

Ben

Food is my love language. Sherri teased me about it more than once. If you’re sad, I’ll cook for you. If you’re sick, I’ll cook for you. If I need to apologize to you…

You guessed it.

And I need to apologize to Trey big time. I feel even more horrible when he comes home, and I can’t figure out how to explain to him what I meant. I hear him get up and leave for work the next morning, bypassing the kitchen completely. I had coffee and food ready, but I’m not going to chase him down and force him to have some, so I continue on to a more elaborate plan.

I have several meetings, but I rearrange them, so I have the afternoon free from 3 p.m. on. I drive into town and hit both the butcher shop and the grocery store, picking up ingredients for a garlic steak bite and golden potato dish that I’m in love with. I even buy a small cake of duck fat, a rare luxury. I know it will give the potatoes and steak a delicious, crisp crust on the outside, and my mouth waters thinking about it. I’m hoping it will smell so good that Trey will agree to eat with me and enjoy it, too.

I hope he’ll let me explain and forgive me.

Trey’s usually home around five on Mondays, and I time the food to be ready at five-thirty so we have time to talk, and I can ask him to have dinner with me.

I hear his car, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. Daisy and Della race to the door to greet him. They both love him, and he acts like he loves them, too. He told me that he’d never had a pet, but he took to them with ease, dispensing pats and treats and accepting kisses and dog hair in return.

Trey comes into the house and stops when he sees me standing and waiting for him. He looks a little unsure but not like he wants to bolt, which I find reassuring. I open my mouth to ask him to eat with me, but I get distracted mid-thought. The longer I look at him, the more I want to touch him. I want to touch every part of him. I want to learn how his shoulders feel through the material of his shirt. I want to discover if he would shiver for me again, maybe if I unbuttoned his jeans. This is so not like me. It’s difficult to keep my brain on the right path, even with something as important as this.

“Ben?” Trey asks.

“Yes!” I say too loudly. “Uhm. Trey. Would you please have dinner with me? I’m making something particularly good, and I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

When I mention yesterday, his expression closes off, and his brows pull together slightly. “It’s fine,” he says. “Just a misunderstanding.”

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