“No. Because you’ve never truly experienced what it means to be loved, by anyone, I’m guessing.”
His stark words knock the wind out of me. I’ve never hid the fact that relationships are not my thing. I don’t date, and it’s certainly no secret that I’m not exactly looking for love.
But the insinuation behind his declaration—that I’venever been loved by anyone—hurts more than I’d like to admit. Partly because, in a lot of ways, I think it might be true. Sure, my grandmother cares for me. I think she does, deep down, want what’s best for me. But I still often wonder how much of that is because of me, and how much of it is because she’s trying to fix her own regrets.
My mom might have loved me once, back before she decided to put her own happiness first. Then again, maybe she always knew I would be better off with Grandmother. Maybe I wouldn’t be where I am now if she had stuck around. I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to question if her decision was worth it.
“If you’re such an ardent admirer of true love, then where’s yours?” I throw the words at him as if my barbs can erase the impact of his.
He shrugs, taking another casual sip from his beer. “I just haven’t found the right person yet.”
“What makes you so sure they exist? Or that you’ll ever find them?” I mean the questions to convey my skepticism, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to hear his answers. That want catches me off guard—it’s not like me to be interested in someone else’s opinions. But something about Ben makes me want to know him. I study his profile, for the first time appreciating the strong line of his jaw and the chocolate brown of his eyes.
He meets my gaze, holding the eye contact for longer than is wholly comfortable. “I’ve seen enough true love to know it exists. And I don’t know that I’ll find it for myself, I just have faith that she’ll come to me when she’s meant to.”
“That sounds like a lot of poetic bullshit to me, neighbor.” I chug the remainder of my beer.
He flashes me a small smile. “I have a feeling you might end up changing your mind.”
Because if I don’t, I’ll be stuck here forever. Neither of us says it out loud.
Ben clears his throat. “If you want to take a break from the carousel of failed careers, you could start working on one of your other tasks.” He catches the look I throw him. “Not the love one, don’t worry.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’m organizing a fundraiser for the children’s hospital, because despite the fact that no one here really seems to get sick or injured, there’s always a children’s hospital in need of funding.”
Of course there is. So people like Ben can volunteer and raise money for them. It’s like the man was sent here specifically to make me look bad.
“It’s a carnival,” he continues, “so there’ll be games and food and rides. It’s a lot to manage and I could use some help.” He nudges my elbow with his. “I imagine someone who volunteers might soon find themselves to be a valued member of the community.”
“Yes, but at what cost?” I mean it to come out as a joke, but the words sound cutting, even to me.
“Spending time working with me sounds that horrible, huh?” He both lets me off the hook and doesn’t accept my bullshit, a rare trait.
“I suppose if I’m going to get through this whole disaster, I might need to make at least one friend.”
“Am I the lucky winner?” Ben’s eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise. “Whatever did I do to deserve to be blessed with the friendship of Campbell Andrews?”
I throw him a false grin. “Proximity.”
He places a hand over his heart. “You are too kind to me, sweetheart.”
“I’m sure I won’t stack up to your actual friends since I don’t exactly have a lot of practice, but beggars can’t be choosers.” It sounds like I’m fishing for information, and I might be.
“To be honest, I wouldn’t say I have a ton of close friends. My colleagues and I are close just due to the circumstances that bring us together, but I’ve always been a bit of a loner.”
“Yeah, me too.” Though Ben’s lonerhood seems to be a choice, whereas mine sometimes feels like people just don’t want to be around me.
But I probably bring that on myself.
“So what do you say, ready to lend a helping hand?”
My fake smile morphs into a real glare. “I guess if I have to prove myself useful, this carnival thing doesn’t sound like the worst idea ever.”
“Praise be!”
“If nothing else, you might be the only other person in Heart Springs who knows what sarcasm is.”
