Page 13 of Because of You
He studies me, eyes searching my face like he knows I’m full of shit, and he’s looking for the truth. Why did I ever think having Ben as a lifelong best friend was a good idea? He sees too damn much. He looks like he’s about to say something and then drops it. I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t have the time or the mental space to get into it all this morning.
“Okay, well, you’re still eating breakfast, so you might as well sit down.” He gestures toward the bar stools lined up against his kitchen island.
“I really can’t, Benji. I need clothes for court, and I’ll be late if I stay much longer.”
“Check the closet in the spare room.”
“For what?”
“Clothes, Hallie. For court.”
“Why would my clothes for court be in your spare room closet?”
“The ghost of Ruth Bader Ginsburg put them there,” he deadpans. “She knew one day you would be here, clothes-less and late for court.”
“Don’t take the queen’s name in vain. Are there actually clothes in there?”
“Yes. Jesus, Hallie. There are clothes. You left a suit and shoes once a couple of months ago when you and Jules stayed here. I threw the suit in with my dry cleaning and hung it up in the closet in case you ever needed it. Your shoes are in there too.”
“You…huh?” My brain is incapable of forming words. He got my suit dry cleaned? If it were me, I would have just balled it up in a grocery bag or something and given it back dirty. Or, more likely, forgotten to give it back entirely.
“I got your suit dry cleaned. It’s in the closet. Okay? Now go, Hallie. Put it on. Come back to the kitchen and sit down where you will eat the omelet I’m making for you so you don’t accidentally yell at the judge because you’re hangry, and drinkthe coffee I’m going to give you so you’ll be properly caffeinated. I even already filled one of your insane monster tumblers with ice water. You left the purple one here a few weeks ago, by the way. Then, I’ll drive you to pick up your car and you can go straight to Callahan. You’ll be there well before nine, and you’ll spend the morning making Maya, Jen, and Eric officially a family.”
I stare at Ben, completely speechless. And then, without warning, my eyes fill with tears. “Shit,” I mutter. I frantically try to brush the tears away before Ben sees, but he misses nothing. In three strides he’s in front of me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his warm chest, cradling my head in one of his hands, the other arm circling my waist.
“What is it, Hallie girl?”
I shake my head, unable to form words as the tears keep flowing. He doesn’t press. He just tightens his arms around me, rubs one hand up and down my back, and says nothing. I bury my head against him and let the tears come. It’s the care, I think, that does it.
I’m the original “I’m fine; don’t worry about me” girl. The one who takes care of everyone else. I handle the logistics and anticipate what everyone needs and make sure that they have it. I remember all the things for all the people. I remember birthdays and coordinate joint presents and get our friends together when it’s been too long since we’ve seen each other, and I remember when people are sick or hurting, and I check in when they’ve had a bad day. But it rarely feels like someone does that for me. I think everyone mostly thinks I don’t need to be taken care of because I never ask for it. And I guess I don’t need it. But god, it feels good when someone just does it without me having to tie myself up in knots worrying about how to ask.
Ben waking up early and making me the breakfast he knew I needed, having a water tumbler for me, and figuring out thelogistics of getting me to my car and to Callahan on time and dry cleaning my fucking suit, for god’s sake, without me having to ask for any of it? It is a sledgehammer to the already tenuous hold I have on my emotional control.
When the tears finally dry up, I take a deep breath, letting Ben’s familiar scent calm me the rest of the way before I step back. Ben reaches up to brush the rest of the tears off my face with his thumbs.
“Feel better?”
“I do.” Shockingly, that’s the truth.
“Good. Now go get dressed so I can feed you.”
I pause, considering. “You’re not going to ask me why I was crying?”
He studies me for a second with his calm blue eyes. “I don’t have to. You’ve been holding a lot inside of you, and I don’t just mean today or this week. I think you always have a lot going on under the surface you don’t let anyone see, and it’s not a surprise you need to let it all out. I think you were long overdue for that cry, and I’m glad that you weren’t alone when it happened. You’re about to start something big and you’re worried about it, and I think it’s more complicated than just ‘change is hard.’ You don’t want to talk to Jules or the girls about it yet—maybe ever. And it’s hard to get a word in with your parents because I know you love Hannah and Jo, but your sisters take up a lot of space and it's hard for you to find room for yourself. You are at my house, so you fell apart with me. If I wasn’t here, you would have done it by yourself—or not at all—and then kept moving forward like nothing happened. But I’m glad you’re here, and I am too. You’re my best friend, and you can always talk to me or fall apart with me and not talk at all. Lean on me. I see you, Hal.”
It's the “I see you” that has tears pricking at my eyes again. Ben gives me a look so full of understanding that the relief almost brings me to my knees. Then he leans forward, kissingmy forehead before stepping back. “It’s going to be okay, Hallie girl. Go get dressed. I’ll finish breakfast.”
“And coffee. You promised me coffee. I want it with…”
“Vanilla creamer,” he supplies.
I look at him, astonished. “How did you know? I just decided when I got out of bed.”
“I told you, Hal—I see you. Go. Clothes. Now.” Then he winks at me and turns to walk back towards the stove.
Well, okay then. I do what I’m told and go back to the guest room. I open the closet where my favorite black suit I thought I lost months ago is, indeed, hanging with a gray silk shell in a dry cleaner bag on the bar. A pair of my black heels is lined up neatly below it on the floor.
I put it all on, repair the makeup ruined by my impromptu crying jag, and go out to start my day, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
