“So, we’re going to head back home, I guess,” Benton says, shoving his hands in his pockets after securing Hannah in her stroller. Before I can turn his unspoken invitation back to his place down, his phone starts to ring. He curses under his breath, pulling it out to check. “Hey, it’s my dad, can you hang on a sec?”
After smiling and nodding, he answers the call and his face immediately falls. I’ve seen that look before. Oh god, I know that look on him.
“Gab, can you just…” He flicks his eyes from me to Hannah and I nod silently, worry etching his face as he walks to a nearby bench. I watch him sit down, as my hand instinctively goes around the handle of the stroller. Tight. When Hannah starts to fuss, I start slowly moving the stroller back and forth, hoping to calm her down from the movement the same way I used to calm Noah down.
“Shh,” I say to Hannah, while my eyes watch Benton. Elbows on his knees, head hung low, one hand holding the phone, the other on the back of his neck. That’s the looks of despair. The look of worry.
I remember seeing that look so many times over the years that I’ve grown used to it.
It’s a look that haunts my dreams at night.
He hangs up shortly after, and takes a moment to compose himself. Whatever that phone call was about, it wasn’t good. Taking a breath, he rubs his hands down his face before standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. His walk back to me is slow and deliberate, like he’s putting all his effort into bringing his body to us.
“Hey,” I whisper when he reaches us. One hand still on the stroller, I reach out to touch his cheek and he turns his face into my touch. “What’s up?”
He groans and takes my hand in his, moving it to his mouth to kiss it before locking his deep brown, stormy eyes on mine. The pain in his face tells me it definitely wasn’t a phone call just to say ‘hi’. Something happened. Something bad happened. Everything starts running through my brain, but, with as little as I know about his personal life, I really don’t know what it could be. Sure, I know he’s insanely close to his parents, more so than most thirty year olds that I know, but I don’t know if he has siblings, cousins, a large or small family… I don’t know, and now I suddenly wish I did. I wish I knew this stuff. I want to be here for him, because, even though he doesn’t know it, he’s been there for me more times than I can count.
“My mom,” he manages to choke out. “I need to go,” he says, frantically starting to pack the rest of his things into the stroller.
“Wait, B,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder, helping him calm his erratic movements. “What happened? Where are you going?”
“Hospital,” he whispers and my stomach drops.
“Oh God, Benton,” I whisper, kneeling down by him. “What about Hannah?”
Apparently, he hadn’t thought of that, because, the minute I say it, his eyes grow wide with panic.
“I’ll… I…” he stammers, but he can’t get words out. He’s in shock, I think.
“Hey. How about I take her back to your place until you’re done? I don’t have plans today, so I’ll take her back, we’ll nap and do girl stuff while you be with your mom. How’s that sound?” I’m silently cursing myself for suggesting that, but I need to be here for him. I need to help in any way I can. A baby, especially one that wants to be as independent as she can, but isn’t quite ready to yet, would be a headache at a hospital. Trying to keep her off the floor, keeping her from touching her face with her hands after she touches all the gross surfaces that hospitals have to offer. He can’t bring her with. This is the only option.
“Are you sure?” His sad eyes hit mine, and my heart breaks for him. I hate that he’s hurting. Smiling, I nod.
“Absolutely.”
He sighs, then pulls me in for a kiss that turns into a hug that turns into him not letting go of me for what feels like forever. Wrapped in his embrace, I’m safe. He’s safe. Together, we’re safe.
As long as we don’t let the world touch us.
Benton
Mom
Watching Gabby walk back to my house with my baby girl is the most beautiful sight I think I’ve ever seen. She’s intuitive with Hannah, like she’s done the ‘hanging out with a child’ thing before, but, from what I know about her, I know she doesn’t have kids or siblings or anyone in her life that would make that possible. Maybe she’s just a naturally maternal person. I’ve known her for months, she’s my best friend’s fiancé’s best friend, so I trust her with my girl. Actually, I’m not worried one bit about the two of them. I know they’ll be just fine.
What I am worried about, though, is what’s going on with my mom. My dad didn’t have any information other than he found her on the floor of the kitchen, blood coming from a wound on her head. That’s all I have to go on, and this taxi ride is taking way too fucking long. I can’t get there fast enough.
By the time the cab stops in front of the hospital entrance, I’m already halfway out before it comes to a complete stop. Thank God for card swipe machines in the back of those things now. I swiped my card right off the bat, so I could get out and run to my family. They need me.
I need them.
I find my dad in the corner of the ER waiting room, wringing his hands together with worry. A simple gesture that I remember seeing a lot in my childhood. As an adult, I notice it and realize it’s worry, but, as a kid, I had no clue. They worked so hard to keep me happy and upbeat like any other child, but now I know the struggles they went through. The things they sacrificed for me. Now that I’m older, I want to repay that. I need to.
“Hey,” I whisper, sitting next to him. His glances over at me, and his arm immediately goes around my shoulders.
“Oh god, Benton. I… I don’t know,” he starts with a strained voice, but stops himself and clears his throat. “I’m not sure what’s going on. She wasn’t coherent the entire way over here in the ambulance. I haven’t seen her beautiful eyes since I left for golf this morning. I just need to see her. I have to know she’s okay... I don’t know what happened, son.”
“She’s a fighter, dad. She’ll be okay.”
“I pray so,” he sighs.
Sitting in the hospital takes me back to a year ago. When they called me down to the morgue to verify that it was, indeed, Carly in the car when it crashed. It was a different hospital, and it wasn’t the ER waiting room, but still… the smell starts getting to me after a while.
“Hey,” I say, standing. “Let’s go get some fresh air,” I offer, reaching my hand out to help him up.
After a moment of thought, he stands and glances towards the doors that he’s seen doctors coming out of all afternoon, just to be let down that he hasn’t been called for Mom yet.
“I’ll let them know we’ll be outside,” I offer, helping him towards the door, stopping by the desk on the way. He seems ten times frailer since the last time I saw him, or maybe it’s being here in this situation that has me thinking about life and death. My parents definitely aren’t getting any younger. Luckily, though, up until now, we’ve had no health scares in the family. No chronic illness, no cancer, no deaths. It’s been pretty smooth sailing, so, for this to happen so suddenly, probably has my dad on high alert that life isn’t as long as it once was for him.
By the time we make it outside, it’s almost dark and I make sure to pull out my phone and check on Hannah. Shooting a quick text to Gabby once I finally have reception, I slide my phone back in my pocket and take a seat next to my dad.