I try to put myself in Ben’s shoes for a minute, something I don’t usually make the effort to do. “I imagine you see a lot of loss.”
He goes still, his eyes finding a random spot on the floor and locking in. “Loss doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
I want to reach out and offer him some kind of comfort, but I don’t really know how to do that, so instead my hands hang uselessly at my sides. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
He shakes off the funk like a dog jumping out of a swimming pool, running a hand through his hair and flashing me a sheepish smile. “Anyway, I can understand why women aren’t exactly lining up to be with me.”
I take that smile as a signal that it’s time to leave the emotions behind. “I find that hard to believe. I mean, your sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired,sweetheart, but you’re cute and nice. You cure sick kids, for fuck’s sake.”
Ben shrugs again. “I go out on dates, but so far I haven’t met someone I felt like I could truly open up to, you know?”
I don’t know, because I have no desire to open up to anyone, but I nod anyway, as if I understand his frustration. “Have you gone out on a lot of blind dates?”
“A few.”
For some reason, that thought sends a burst of some foreign feeling through my chest. I cover the lapse with a smile. “Bet none of them have been as awesome as me.”
“None of them have been assomethingas you.” There’s a tad less sarcasm contained in his voice this time.
“Who set you up with me, anyway?” Normally Grandmother picks her candidates for me from a select pool of associates and I don’t see how Ben could possibly have been on her list.
“My cousin, Sophie.”
“Does she hate you or something?” I rack my brain, trying to think of anyone I might know named Sophie.
Ben doesn’t laugh at my not-joke. Instead he meets mygaze, waiting for me to make full eye contact before continuing. “She worked at your firm as a summer intern a couple of years ago. Told me that you were one of the smartest, fiercest women she’d ever seen. Said if there was anyone in New York who could handle me and my life, it would be you.”
The words catch me so completely off guard, I almost fall over. Sophie, the summer intern. I vaguely remember telling her she would never make it in mergers and acquisitions if she allowed her emotions to run away with her. I thought she hated me. I assume most of our interns hate me.
“Oh,” I finally manage to say when the silence becomes unbearable. “Is she doing well?” It’s deflection, but I find myself really wanting to know.
Ben smiles one of his genuine smiles. “She’s doing great. Decided to go into immigration law. It’s tough on her, but she loves it.”
I nod. It’s the perfect job for someone like her. “Tell her I said hello.”
“I will.” Neither of us acknowledges what has to happen before he can follow through with that.
I toy with the mane on a stuffed pony. “Do you think I can actually do this, Ben? Can I find a way to get out of here?”
He takes the pony, and our hands brush the slightest bit. “I think there probably hasn’t been much in your life that you’ve set out to accomplish and haven’t. So if you really want to get out of here, I think you’ll find a way.”
It’s the kindest thing anyone has said to me in a really long time and it stops the breath in my lungs for just a second. I choke a little when the air starts flowing again and Ibusy myself with opening another box in the hopes he hasn’t noticed. “Thank you, Ben. That means a lot.”
Ben clears his throat, already shuffling away from me. “I’m just going to go finish up what I was working on. Let’s say we’ll head out in about an hour?”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond before he turns and scurries off to the other side of the gym. I should have known better than to do something as foolish as show even a hint of emotion. Ben doesn’t care about me or my feelings, he’s just like everyone else in my life. Here to push me to get the job done by whatever means necessary. My feelings haven’t ever mattered before, and they certainly don’t matter here.
I turn my attention back to the job at hand and sort the remaining stuffed animals like my life depends on it. This, at least, is something I know I won’tfail.
8
Two days later, the School’s Out for the Summer carnival has somehow almost miraculously managed to erect itself in the middle of the town square. I left the gym chock full of supplies and building materials and woke up the next day to a legit freaking carnival—the only thing missing being the guests.
When I arrive, everything appears to be firmly under control. Ben is striding around the outdoor space, clipboard in hand, answering questions before they’re even asked, directing the group of volunteers with his patented calm and ease.
I approach one of the food vendors and request a churro, which comes out piping hot and smelling like a cinnamon swirl of heaven. I hand over one of my volunteer food coupons in exchange.
I stride in Ben’s direction, taking the time to appreciate the hard work that must have occurred to get all of this set up. Hard work I luckily didn’t have to participate in much beyond sorting a few stuffed animals. Hard workthat he took on willingly, because he isn’t a soul suck of a person.
