All of You(25)
Author: Christina Lee

We ate ice cream and watched bad TV, and I told her everything.

About my tattoo, making up with Bennett, making love, feeling love.

And it felt good. To let someone in.

“For whatever it’s worth, I’m proud of you, bitch,” Ella said, throwing away our empty food containers. “For what?” I asked before taking the final sip from my wineglass.

“I’ve known you a long-ass time,” she said, topping off our glasses and then sitting back down.

“Your life can be divided into a before and after period.”

I kept my mouth shut, reflecting on her words.

“The Avery before Tim was fun, optimistic even, despite your mother not really acting like much of a parent most of the time. Even after your grandma died, you still seemed to have hope about the future.”

I did. I missed my grandma desperately, but she made me want something better for myself.

“The Avery after Tim was hardened, broken, and closed off. And I got it. God, I so got it.” She adjusted herself on the couch in order to face me better. “Despite all of that, you still tried to have some fun. It’s just . . . the fun was different.”

“Different how?”

“Like you were just filling a need, taking care of business.”

I nodded because she was right. So right. About all of it. I had just been going through the motions, except when it came to school, my job, and Adam.

“First,” I said, “I hate that you just marked my life with that bastard’s name.”

“Why not say his name out loud?” she asked. “You want him to remain anonymous? Let’s out that a**hole! Tim! Tim! Tim! The f**king bastard!”

I laughed while taking another sip and almost choked on my wine.

“Second,” I said, after clearing my throat several times, “your life could be marked by a before and after, too, my dear bitch-ass friend.”

Ella’s eyes darkened at the reminder of her brother’s death, and I grabbed for her hand.

“But shit, I admire how you handled it, Ella. I wish I’d been more like you. You got help and never changed who you were,” I said. “I mean, I saw how you were different, because I’ve known you for so long, but you didn’t let it . . . take you down.” “I love you, asshead.” Ella grabbed me for a tight hug. “Thank you for finally letting me in.

Promise you won’t shut me out again. Or Bennett. Or anybody.”

She was right. I had closed myself off in ways even I hadn’t realized.

“Promise,” I said, but still I hoped I could hold up my end of the bargain.

Besides, if I hadn’t promised Mrs. Jackson might’ve kicked my ass the next time she got ahold of me.

When I next looked at the time it was already nine o’clock. I realized Bennett would’ve been home for a couple of hours by now.

And I had never called him.

I never responded to his flowers and note.

I never invited him over.

Looked like I f**ked up again.

I put my head in my hands, my brain abuzz with worry.

All at once there was knock on my door. My stomach bunched into a hard ball. I was afraid it was Bennett coming over to give me a piece of his mind.

To tell me I’d hurt him again.

Ella answered the door and let him inside. My heart strained against my rib cage. I wanted to race into his arms and push him away at the same time. My emotions were all over the map.

I wanted him so badly that it terrified the hell out of me.

“Hey.” He stood in front of me, and my fingers tangled in the afghan draped across my legs. I couldn’t look at him. If I saw his eyes I’d find hurt, pain, anger.

But if I looked deeply enough, I’d also find love. The flip side of fear, Mrs. Jackson had said.

Bennett knelt down and lifted my chin with his thumb.

My gaze slid up to meet his. His eyes were soft and concerned, not angry.

“Bennett, I’m sorry, I . . .” “I’m here to relieve Ella,” he said. “She called and told me what happened. We agreed to do a shift change at nine o’clock.”

I stared at Ella, confusion in my eyes.

“That’s right, dill weed,” Ella said, her voice smug. “Now make room for him and let him feed you some more ice cream.”

I looked between Bennett and Ella, my heart swelling tenfold.

She grabbed her coat, kissed my cheek, and headed for the door. “You’re in good hands now.” And then she was gone.

Bennett immediately wrapped me up in a hug. “I’m so sorry you lost your friend. I want to be here for you tonight.”

I was so relieved that he wasn’t mad or hurt.

He wasn’t pushing me to think or talk about anything that happened today or yesterday.

He understood that I was grieving and left it at that.

“Bennett, I wanted to call you, tell you those flowers were amazing, and invite you over.”

“Shhhh . . .” he said, wrapping us in the blanket. “We have plenty of time to talk about all of that.

For now, let’s just be together.”

We lay on the couch, staring into each other’s eyes, saying nothing and everything all at once.

I told him stories about Mrs. Jackson, and how she was a pain in the ass, but also pushed me to be a better person. Kind of like Bennett had been doing. Without him even realizing it. He was just being him. Loving me purely. Easily. Incredibly.

Later, we retreated to my bedroom to watch bad reality TV, and he held me all night.

Before we drifted off to sleep, he whispered in my ear, “Avery, I want us to work through the sad and hard parts together. To always find our way back to each other.”

*** The next morning I woke with the initial shock and sting of losing someone.

But underneath the surface of my raw emotions were the underpinnings of truth.

Of love. Of friendship. Of hope.

As I lay awake in Bennett’s arms and listened to his soft breaths, my eyes focused in on his drawing across the room. I considered his bedtime confession and wondered if in fact we had weeded through all that baggage in our paths and finally found a way to each other.

We both had class that morning, but agreed to meet back at my place in the afternoon. Neither of us was scheduled to work, and we wanted desperately to spend the day together.

I called my supervisor to ask if she’d heard about any of the funeral arrangements for Mrs. Jackson and whether I could have the time off to attend. She assured me that I could.

Before we hung up, she said, “You know, every one of us has had a Mrs. Jackson in our lives. A person we’ve grown close to, despite trying not to. And it’s a good thing. In fact, it’s a necessary part of life. It means we’re human, Avery.”

Bennett and I went out for a late lunch and then tooled around the local art museum together. He showed me his favorite artists and helped me appreciate some of their earlier works.

It was comforting to be with him. To do normal things with him. To start folding him in to my life.

We made love that night on my terms. I was on top, and it was fast and frantic, soft and sexy, and everything in between. Afterward, we lay wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever tire of this,” Bennett said, still winded. His hand skated over my br**sts, to my stomach, to my thighs, making me quiver with need again.

And for the first time in years, I felt a flicker of joy.

Incandescent. Radiating inside me and through me.

His fingers reached for my face, and he kissed me slow and melting, his tongue tangling with mine in a way that felt so private. So profound. So right.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Bennett and I were inseparable the following week. He attended Mrs. Jackson’s funeral service with me, politely introducing himself and shaking family members’ hands.

Her daughter, Star, seemed to know more about me than I thought she had, which comforted me. It cemented the idea in place that Mrs. Jackson was as fond of me as I was of her.

At the wake, she whispered, “Bennett seems like a good man. Momma would have liked him.”

Bennett surprised me by bringing a bouquet of daisies to the cemetery. We stood with Mrs.

Jackson’s family as everyone departed, throwing the long stems onto her casket, one by one.

Work that week had been tough. A new resident had already taken Mrs. Jackson’s bed, as if trying to wipe clean the memory of her. But she’d always be with me.

Her kind and wise words. Her confidence and biting humor.

The new resident was a crotchety old man named Mr. Smith, and I snickered every time he barked an order as I crossed into the room. I figured Mrs. Jackson would get a kick out of it, too.

You’re trying to make me miss you, aren’t you?

And then Bennett drove with me to Mom’s court hearing. He asked if he could tag along, and at first I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was as if he were inserting himself into my past and all its ugly secrets.

He had taken the morning off work and said he wanted to come to the courthouse for moral support—that he’d wait in the car or the lobby for me.

He knew there was the possibility that Tim would be there. The defendant had the right to attend the hearing. If he didn’t show, he’d still be served the paperwork. As we pulled into my mother’s driveway, my palms became slick on the steering wheel. Adam was at school, Bennett would be meeting Mom for the first time, and my queasy stomach refused to cooperate.

I’d already met Bennett’s family, and we definitely shared similar backgrounds. But I was afraid he’d uncover just how f**ked-up my reality was once he met my mother.

Mom was chain-smoking at the kitchen table when we stepped inside. Her fingers were shaking, and shadows had formed below her eyes, alerting me that this decision had taken its toll.

“Mom, this is Bennett.” I refrained from saying that he was my boyfriend. I was just getting used that idea. But she knew the deal. I had never brought any guys around before.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Michaels.” Bennett cleared his throat and gave a small smile.

“You, too.” I could see Mom checking him out, her gaze wandering up and down his body as I clenched my teeth.

He was half her age and still she thought she could act that way. She needed to stop thinking I was her competition, and after today I’d damn well let her know it.

But for now, before this hearing, I’d let it go.

“Ready, Mom?”

Bennett had been teetering in the doorway, hands deep in his front pockets, and he looked relieved that her scrutiny of him would be ending.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” As she stood up, I realized she was wearing a modest blue dress, and I was thankful that none of her cl**vage was showing. “It’ll be hard to face him if he shows up.”

“Hard for both of us, Mom.”

Bennett squeezed my hand as we headed out the door.

Bennett drove my car and dropped us off at the front entrance of the courthouse. Said he’d park and join us in the hall.

Mom exited the backseat and started to head inside. She had retained one of her lawyer exes to help her through the proceedings and was meeting him before the hearing. She had been with Lance for a few months a couple of years ago, and even got a used car out of the deal. Too bad he’d been married at the time. I wondered how she’d be paying him this time.

As my hand reached for the door handle, Bennett pulled me into a kiss. It was sweet and reassuring, but still warmed my belly, despite the enormity of the situation.

“Good luck, baby,” he whispered in my ear. “You were strong back then, and you’re even tougher now.”

My stomach flipped somersaults all the way up the stone courthouse stairs. It was an old historical building in the center of town, and I’d visited once with Gavin when he met his father there about excessive parking tickets. Gavin was always leaving his car at empty meters across town, and it had finally caught up to him. Like Tim, Gavin also had a little of that overconfidence gene in him, being the mayor’s son. I couldn’t totally blame him for it. It was just how he was raised.

But from what I could gather about Tim, his boldness was all DNA, and being on the police force had only helped bolster that inflated opinion of himself.

Mom had already checked in and was meeting with her lawyer friend, who was dressed sharply in a shiny black suit and red tie. I sat down beside her on the cold wooden bench and looked around, hoping not to lock eyes with Tim. I was dressed in simple black pants and a blouse, with flat shoes. If he showed up, I wanted him to know I was a grown-ass woman, not the scared teen he’d known four years ago.

The place overflowed with people like us, waiting for their cases to go before the judge, and I figured we were in for a long morning.

When it was finally our turn, I was thankful that we had gone to the police station and filed the report the day after Tim assaulted Mom. The pictures of her bruises were on file, and Lance assured us it would be a clear case in our favor.

With my permission, Mom had also disclosed that Tim had assaulted me years ago, but Lance was confident that extraneous evidence to Mom’s case would probably be unnecessary.

He had been right.

The judge fairly quickly granted a permanent restraining order, good for five years.

Bennett was waiting in the lobby as we exited the wooden doors, and I told him the news.

His jaw remained locked. “Was he in there with you?”

I shook my head. Tim had never shown his face, and I breathed a sigh of relief, despite the small part of me that wanted to see the bastard. Over the years, I had built him up in my mind to be a monster.

I had only been sixteen, and I figured he might look quite different to me now.

Mom had to wait at the courthouse for an official copy of the document to keep in her possession should she ever need to call the police. She assured me that Lance would drive her home after they had gone to lunch to celebrate.

I bet they’d celebrate.

“I wanted to make sure we called a locksmith before I left today, Mom.” Of course she hadn’t done it yet. How could she still be so oblivious about her own safety?