Page 92 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
With that, he abandons the chip bowl and makes his way over to us, extending his hand in front of him. Ben shakes my father’s hand with his free one, and I hide my smile against the sleeve of Ben’s sweater, knowing this is as close to a physical display of affection as it gets with my father.
“I’m good,” Ben answers as my father continues to vigorously shake his hand. “Really great now, actually.”
“I’ve kept every single issue ofNational Geographicthat’s featured your work.” My dad finally releases him. “I have a whole collection.”
“Really? That’s very kind of you,” Ben says, and I feel the tension ease from his body. He clearly has my father’s approval, not that he needed it.
“Upstairs in my office. Right beside Mona’sAround the Globearticles.”
“Wait. What?” I ask, dumbfounded. “You keepmyarticles?”
“Of course I do.” His thick brows form a single line over his frames. “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”
“I…I don’t know.”
Over the next few seconds, I reconsider my past as though I got the whole thing wrong. Like Ben switching lenses on his camera to get the clearest picture, when I look at what’s right in front of me from a different perspective, I realize I mistook my differences for being an outlier, never grasping that my family loves mefor me, regardless of my propensity for quiet and calm. And if I needed any further proof of how much my family does in fact see me, the fact my studious, science-driven father, Dr. Matthew Miller, has my article on New England’s Tarot Card and Crystals Expo tucked away on a shelf somewhere in his office, well, that’s all I need to know.
“Okay, my turn,” Marcus interrupts, shoving me out of the way to throw his arms around Ben. “It’s good to see you, man.”
They do that man-hug thing where they roughly clap each other on the back, and then Ben tells him, “Look, I know I owe you an explanation on why I suddenly disappeared back then. I want to apologize—”
“You don’t owe me shit,” Marcus cuts him off. “I’m just glad you’re standing here now. But if you really want to tell me about it, how about you buy me a beer next week? I think it’s long overdue. In fact, we haven’t had a beer together since that kegger Mase and I threw—”
My father clears his throat.
Marcus abruptly switches gears. “I don’t know what I’m saying. That never happened. Anyway, lets grab dinner next week.”
“Sounds good, man,” Ben says, suppressing laughter.
My family’s reaction to Ben warms my heart, and I revel in the fuzzy feeling of it all while Marcus introduces Ben to Carrie—who says she feels as if she already knows him after hearing so many stories from our childhood—and points out two of their three children as they run through the kitchen in search of the third, who is off hiding.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask, just as my mom enters the kitchen and stops in her tracks, her hands covering her heart.
“Ben,” she says softly. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
“Mary Ellen.” Ben crosses the room to my mother, sweeping her into an embrace that lifts her petite frame off the floor. I let them have their moment, knowing I’m the only one in this room other than the two of them who understands how deep their connection runs and how much my mother did for him.
“So, you and Ben are like…a thing?” Marcus questions, drawing the attention of my father and Carrie.
“We are one hundred percenta thing.” The answer flows naturally from my lips. “He’s going to be around. Long-term.”
Marcus smirks. “I don’t really know how I feel about my best friend dating my little sister.”
“Good thing neither one of us really gives a shit how you feel,” I reply, copying his smirk.
Marcus looks from me to our father, then to Carrie, perplexed. “Who is this person and where is my quiet, docile sister?”
Carrie laughs and pats him on the chest. “I think she stayed behind in Iceland, and I, for one, am loving this new version.”
“Yeah.” His eyes sweep over me like he’s seeing me in a whole new light. “I think you’re right about that.” He lowers his voice and adds, “Hey sis, I know Mase and I can be real assholes sometimes—”
“Sometimes?” Carrie interjects with a snort.
“Okay, I get it.” Marcus directs aThanks a lotlook to his wife. “We’re probably not the easiest people to have to claim as siblings, but I didn’t realize until tonight how overlooked we made you feel. I’m sorry about that.”
I smile, partly because it’s good to hear this acknowledgmentfrom my brother and partly because I recall my dramatic outburst that led to it. “Thank you for that,” I say. “Sorry if I scared your children.”
“Are you kidding?” he laughs, pulling me into a hug. “I’m sure they’ll be talking about Aunt Mona’s profanity-laced rant for weeks. Let’s just hope they don’t tell their teachers at school about it.”
