Page 30 of What We Had

He was worth it. Always.

Me:Where?

?

RiverwalkTavern and Grill sat atop a stone foundation that rose from the riverbank of the Sudbury. An outdoor patio provided a vista of the water and spring buds of the poplar trees. Mother Nature’s overseer for Massachusetts blessed the April afternoon with sunshine and heat. After two days of cold, the upper fifties was t-shirt weather.

The hostess brought me to the patio where Bennett had already been waiting. I dropped my Ray-Bans down from their resting spot atop my head as the sun glared into my eyes. I wore a white, short-sleeved button-down with the top two buttons undone, and a pair of blue jeans. Wrought-iron tables dotted the stone patio, only a quarter of them filled. I weaved my way between them to sit across from Bennett at a two-seater running against the railing. The river played a gentle tone as songbirds tweeted hello.

Bennett lifted his shades to reveal bloodshot eyes. He sported hair on his upper lip and chin, nothing coming in as strong as mine. If anything, it made him look younger, like a boy trying to grow a beard. The bags under his eyes told me he had lost just as much sleep as I had. He wore a navy blue shirt that hugged his fit chest and arms.

“Hey,” he said as I sat down.

“Hey.”

“Um. Thanks for coming.”

I wanted to respond with, “Thanks for having me,” but I thought better of it.

I had my arms crossed while leaning back. Too standoffish, I realized. I unfolded my arms and rested them on the lip of the table, then scooted my chair in farther. “This is a nice place. Is it new?”

Bennett nodded, then dropped his sunglasses down, a pair of neon-green, cheap plastic shades that added to the boyish charm he had going. “Four years ago, I think? This used to be—”

“Fireside Restaurant,” I finished for him as the memory struck. “That’s right.” I snorted, then said, “I took my prom date here. Er,there. Wherever.” I rubbed my face. Give me a line any day of the week instead of small talk.

“Oh hey cool, it’s Agent Mercer,” a friendly, effeminate voice said. We both looked up to see our waiter standing there in a white shirt and black apron. His name tag read ETHAN. He had his arms akimbo, a notepad clutched in his left hand. “Too cool.Code of Justiceis one of my favorite shows. It just isn’t the same without you. Winnie Bridgewater can’t carry the weight of that show by herself.” He leaned forward and held his hand to his mouth, as if to whisper conspiratorially to me. “Y’know, I don’t really believe all that stuff she said. Total liar, right?” He leaned back and clicked his pen. “You went to school with my uncle. Devon Sterren? Do you remember him? I think he said you were both on the baseball team together.Anyway, totally rambling. What can I start you two out with to drink?”

“Just water for me,” Bennett said.

“Same.”

Ethan made a dramatic show of clicking his pen closed and stuffed it into the front pocket of his apron. “Not the adventurous daytime drinkers. Got it. Any questions about the menu?”

Who the hell was this kid?

“Not yet,” I answered.

“Be right back with thosewaters.” He spun on his heel, something akin to a pirouette, and strode off.

I blinked. Looked at Bennett. “I have no idea who the hell Devon Sterren is. And there were less than a hundred kids in my graduating class.”

“Maybe you were separated by a few grades?”

I shrugged.

An odd encounter, and yet I counted it as a blessing. That kid had helped break the tension. I’d give him one hell of a tip.

(Also, he liked my character and hated Bridgewater. So, extra-extratip.)

Bennett kept up a vanilla conversation. I had wanted to interrupt him at first to get right to the point, but I got the sense he was biding time. Ethan would be back shortly with our drinks and then ask for the order. That would open up a decent window where we’d be uninterrupted. I kept the conversation running smoothly enough until our server returned. Bennett ordered a burger and I asked for the same. Ethan gave another flippant comment about our adventurousness and strutted off like he was on a runway.

One big gulp of ice water later, Bennett licked his lips and gripped the edge of the table. “I want to start out by apologizing. No one but my dad has ever seen me like that. It’s kind of embarrassing and you weren’t meant to see it.”

Unlike that night, I wouldn’t sit and bite my tongue while he spoke. I needed to let him know a few things right out of the gate. “I don’t know what this conversation will lead to, but I want you to know you don’t have to be sorry. Really, Bennett. You don’t need to apologize to me. Just explain to me what happened and what I can do to fix whatever it is I did.”

Bennett licked his lips again. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew he blinked rapidly behind his lids. “I appreciate that. Really.” He picked at something on the table. His chest rose and fell. I could see his blood pulsating along a vein in his neck. “I, um.” His voice lowered. I had to lean forward to hear him over the rush of the river. “I was the victim of sexual abuse.” He blew out air, cheeks puffing.

I froze. No breath. I swear no heartbeat, even. Couldn’t blink. Just stared and listened.

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