The whole family was there.
And now they were staring at her.
Even the one on his phone because he literally turned around to stare.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Bene said quietly, “but I explained a bit about you and Beni … so they would know. Figured, in case they wondered who this woman was that loved him, might be better to let them know ahead of time.”
Right.
Because they hadn’t really gotten that far.
Now, they would.
It was just the worst possible time.
“I don’t mind,” she said quietly.
Bene nodded.
Cara smiled warmly again. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat or drink? One of the boys can run out and get whatever.”
“No, I’m okay. I just want him.”
Silence covered the room.
Thick, and oh, so heavy.
It might not have been the right thing to say.
It was still the truth.
Cara cleared her throat, giving her husband a nod before coming to sit on the couch on the other side of August. “I hear you come from New York.”
“I do.”
All eyes were still on her.
She didn’t mind as much with Cara talking to her.
“Which borough?”
“Brooklyn, when I was younger. Queens later.”
The shock lessened as the conversation continued. The others joined in, making her talk, and filling the silence in between with stories about them, and their family.
It really was the worst time to meet them. August was grateful that she did, though, because it was impossible to deny how strong the group felt huddled together in that waiting room of a clinic that was not meant for this purpose. Beni’s family was welcoming, and oddly familiar to her, in a way she couldn’t explain.
They felt like him.
And she needed that.
So much.
Eighteen hours.
That was how long August had been sitting in that clinic before she was finally allowed into the back room where not only had they operated on Beni, but they kept him to rest, too. She vaguely remembered the doctor coming out, bloodstains still coloring his dress shirt and pants a ruddy brown, to tell them they could visit Beni a couple at a time, if they would like.
She said his parents should go first.