Page 45 of Trial Run

She laughed. “I guess that’s true. You’re very good with kids. The way you talk to him. You don’t have any patients that are children?”

“No. All my patients are adults. But my sister … She was like a kid, and I mean that in the most positive way. Everything was exciting and new. And conversations were straightforward with her. No pretending or hiding things, like adults do. Kids are easier to talk to, really.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m sorry about your sister. You must miss her so much.”

He gave a tight nod. “It’s hard to believe we’re coming up on the anniversary of her death. My family’s Jewish, and one thing I plan to do is mark the date of her passing each year.”

“What do Jewish people do on the date?” Nell kept her tone light, but inside she hurt for Ben. His loss was more recent than hers, but the feeling was very familiar.

“Light a candle, say a blessing. And you try to remember them at their best, and … live so you honor their memory.”

“What about your parents? Will they be around that day?”

“No. They moved to Arizona after she died. They’d wanted to move for years. I think her death was as hard on them as it was on me, and maybe they also wanted to get away. Start again somewhere else.”

“So, you lost your whole family, in a way.”

“I guess so. Leah held us together, and then we just … fell apart after.” He cleared his throat. “I used to visit her so often. I guess in a way, I felt responsible for her happiness, even as an adult. I was always the one who stuck up for her when we were kids, and I made sure she had what she needed in her community as an adult.”

“You were a good big brother.”

“I tried to be strong for her. Even when she got sick. And then—” He took a sharp breath and put a hand to his chest. Drew in another short breath.

She rested a hand on his back. His heart raced under her hand. “This is hard for you to talk about. Do you need to go back inside?”

“Yes. I’d better.” He stood and opened the patio door, bracing his arm against the handle. “You’ll be okay to get Marco?”

“I’ll round him up. You go on in.”

He gave a quick nod and disappeared inside, probably wanting to pull himself together. She hadn’t liked the look on his face a minute ago. Her own grief had been a winding road, full ofups and downs, and Ben’s worsened anxiety might be part of the process for him.

She crossed the yard and gathered Marco out of the fountain. The front of his shirt was soaked and streaked with dirt.

“I like Ben’s yard. Can we get a fountain too?” he asked.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask permission to put one outdoors at our house. But we need to get going now.”

“Did Ben go inside?”

“He did. We’ll say goodbye on our way out.”

Ben was waiting for them when she slid the patio door open. His breathing was back to normal, and he smiled down at Marco, but the smile looked forced.

“We’ll get out of your way,” she said. “But please, take care of yourself.” She searched his face, looking for signs of anxiety. He seemed put back together, at least on the outside.

“Thank you for coming by,” he told Marco, a serious expression on his face. “I’m glad I got to see your geodes.”

“And Mom said you’ll come with us someday to help us look for more,” Marco said.

A pained expression flashed across Ben’s face before it closed off again.

“I didn’t promise him anything,” she said quickly.

Ben gave a clipped nod. “Maybe someday.”

Nell ushered Marco to the front door, and Ben followed. He was back to being the reserved, aloof version of himself she’d met that first day. He was protecting himself after almost panicking on the porch, and her heart ached even more. How many times had he braced himself like this, locking down and putting up this armor whenever anxiety hit?

“I’ll see you Saturday?” She tried to reach out to him with her eyes, to show him she understood, and it was okay.

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