Page 85 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Thank you, Suki.”
“You’re welcome. And Mona, let me make one thing clear, whether you get his permission or not, you’ll still have a job awaiting you. If we can’t run your exact article as is, we’ll figure something else out.”
Relief washes over me. Working for Suki is already one thousand times better than working for Calvin. “Thank you again. I really, really appreciate it.”
As soon as I end the call, Jacklyn tackles me in a hug. “I’m so fucking proud of you!”
“You know what?” I say through laughter as she squeezes the air out of my lungs. “I’m pretty proud of me, too.”
Collapsing back on my pillows, she sweeps my knotted hair off my face. “Seriously, though. You’re different from before. There’s a confidence there now. I see it.”
“Yeah. I feel different.”
I don’t say the rest of what I’m thinking, that while I have changed, I think loving Ben again was the catalyst.
All at once, Jacklyn hops up and smooths her skirt. “All right, you need to shower if you want to make dinner on time.” Then, at my absent expression, “You do know what today is, right?”
These past weeks I’ve been a zombie, living in a land where time doesn’t exist. I rack my brain, and it finally dawns on me. “Shit! The twins’ birthday.”
“Which means you have a train to catch to Hudson Springs.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I jump from bed and start haphazardly grabbing items from my dresser. Then I stop and spin in Jacklyn’s direction, one hand gripping a bra and the other a fuzzy tube sock (I don’t know why). “Ben’s in Hudson Springs.”
She grimaces. “I’m aware.”
“You have to come with me! My family doesn’t even know Ben went to Iceland with me. I can’t handle being that close to him and deal with my family and—”
“Shhh,” Jacklyn soothes. “Of course I’ll come with you.”
* * *
Heavy drops of rain pound the windows of the cab we take from the Hudson Springs train station to my childhood home a few streets away. We pass Ben’s house on the corner, and my eyes perform a diligent search in those precious few seconds. There’s no car in the driveway. But does he even own a car since he’s always traveling? There’s no activity or lights on that I can see, either.
What I do see, at least in my mind, is an entirely different version of the home he grew up in. I no longer see the white brick rancher with black shutters and a neat, well-kept yard as the place where a boy once left me brokenhearted. Instead, I see a place full of secrets and painful memories that I never knew about. A place Ben managed to survive, but couldn’t possibly thrive in. I look at the house now and I envision Ben picking his mother up off the wet lawn, trying to hold it together while his world fell apart. My heart twists painfully, and I’m so fucking angry on his behalf. Angry because he had to act like the parent when he was just a kid. Angry because the shitty situation forced him to be the one to sacrifice the people and things he cared about. Angry because he didn’t deserve to suffer one goddamn second of fear or shame or hurt.
I’m tempted to tell the cabdriver to pull over. To hop out ofthe car and sprint down the sidewalk toward his house in the pouring rain like we’re in the movies. But it doesn’t look like he’s home, and I have no idea what I would say or where to start, and this isn’t a movie.
“Hey.” Jacklyn’s voice interrupts my thoughts as though she’s reading them. “Let’s just get through dinner, okay?”
The cab pulls up at my house, and I take the opened bottle of bourbon Jacklyn clutches and throw back a swig. She’d been thoughtful enough to purchase two bottles for my brothers since I was in no such state for things like remembering birthdays or planning gifts. Problem is, because of said state, I already opened one bottle to calm my nerves on the way here. I hate bourbon, but it does the job of making me warm and fuzzy and convincing me that maybe I can get through this night after all.
Jacklyn steps out of the car first, opening an umbrella for us to huddle underneath while we rush up the drive. We make our way through the front door, slipping out of our raincoats and hanging them with our bags in a nearby closet. I pause for a moment, closing my eyes and basking in the warmth of the house on this cool, rainy evening, the smell of freshly baked cake wafting through the air.
Then I’m pelted in the shoulder, and I open my eyes to see a Nerf football at my feet.
“Sorry,” Eli, my nephew, says seconds later as he scoops up the football and runs back to the dining room, footsteps reverberating throughout the entranceway. At the same time, chaotic, poorly played notes from the old piano in the living room ring through the house in what sounds like “Mary Had a Little Lamb” in extreme slow motion.
I cast a glance over at Jacklyn, who wears an expression of displeasure and mutters under her breath, “This reminds me that I need to get my IUD replaced next month.”
A short laugh bursts out of me, and I relax my shoulders, more at ease with her beside me. We make our way into the kitchen and find Marcus and Mason standing over a ceramic bowl of tortilla chips, Marcus in his park ranger khakis and Mason in his light blue scrubs.
“Well, look who it is,” Mason says at our approach. “Our baby sister back from the great outdoors.”
I hold up both bottles of bourbon. “Happy birthday, idiots.”
“Hey now.” Marcus takes a bottle and examines it in the light. “Mine’s already open. That’s not fair.”
“Here, I can fix that.” Jacklyn takes Mason’s unopened bottle from his hand, twists off the top, and throws her head back as she takes a long pull. Then she passes the bottle back to Mason, her deep red lipstick coating the rim. “Now you’re even.”
