Page 111 of Summer Reading

It was early morning. Sleep had been elusive andwe finally gave up. We’d made a large pot of coffee, poured it into two travel mugs, and headed to the beach. It was cold at this time of day, the darker side of dawn, and the fog was thick. We didn’t care.

The only other people out here were some surfers and a few people walking their dogs. The rising sun was trying to blast through the thick haze but wasn’t having any luck.

Ben sat on the blanket, and I curled up into his side mostly for warmth but also because it felt important to maintain physical contact with him. I was his tether.

The day had a gloomy, sorrowful vibe to it, which I supposed was appropriate. Even though his father had passed ten years ago, Ben had just learned of it and he wasn’t just grieving for the man, he was also mourning the relationship he was never going to have with him.

I felt his body get tense beneath my cheek, and I knew he was processing the hurt. I lifted my head to look at him and over the sound of the waves, I asked, “Why do you think she didn’t tell you?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say. Moira doesn’t think much past her own needs and wants.”

“But she knew you were looking for him,” I said. This was what I couldn’t understand or forgive. She had let Ben search for his father, fully knowing that Steve had passed away and that her son would be devastated at the end of it, yet she’d said nothing.

“She said he was the only man she’d ever loved,”he said. “She also said that she never told him about me because she didn’t want to keep him from pursuing his dream of being a rock star. He died never knowing he had a son.”

We silently watched the waves. Their steady rhythm was hypnotic given my lack of sleep.

“Did he have any other family?” I asked.

“Moira says no,” he said. “He was an only child and his parents passed away shortly after his death. So there’s no one. No one to tell me what he was like, no one to share photos with me, no one who can tell me...” He paused, his voice gruff. “No one who can tell me whether he would have liked me.”

Raw hurt made his voice rough. I had no words of comfort, so I looped my arm around his waist, letting him know I was here and I wasn’t leaving. For the rest of the day and the following night, I kept a hand on him at all times. It was a weird sort of grief bubble we were in, mourning a person we didn’t know and a father-son relationship that would never be.

When we collapsed into bed on the second night, I waited until Ben fell asleep before I crept out of the bedroom and called my dad. He had stopped by earlier in the day and collected his car, but we’d been hiking the beach.

I gently closed the front door of the house behind me before I hit my dad’s name in the contacts.

“Sam, how are you doing?” he asked. “How’s Ben?Stephanie wants to know if she can bring you guys some food.”

Inexplicably, hearing my dad’s voice, with all of his fatherly concern gushing out of the phone, made my nose sting and my eyes water. It hit me how lucky I was to have him, screwy midlife crisis and all.

“Aw, she’s the best, but she can stand down, although the offer is much appreciated,” I said. “Ben’s not really eating. He’s in shock, I think.”

“Tyler told us Ben spent his summer searching for his father. I can only imagine how crushed he must be,” Dad said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Actually, I’m glad you asked,” I said. “Do you have anything—photos, notes, videotapes, anything at all—of your old band, the Procrastinators?”

“You want me to look for anything I have with Steve in it?” he asked.

“Exactly.”

“I’m on it,” he said. “I’ll do a deep dive in the attic.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “Sorry to have called so late.”

“You’re my daughter. It’s never too late to call me,” he said.

My throat was tight when I said, “Thanks. I love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too.”

I ended the call and slipped back into bed beside Ben. He was snoring softly. Given that we’d only gottena couple of hours of sleep the night before, I knew he had to be exhausted. I curled up around him, wishing I could ease his sadness. The warmth from his body relaxed me and I fell asleep within minutes.

•••

I awoke the next morning and found myself alone. With my eyes still closed, I reached across the sheets, seeking Ben. His side of the bed was cold. I sat up immediately, shoving the covers aside. I glanced in the open door of the bathroom. The light was off and the room was empty.

There was no noise coming from anywhere in the small house. I grabbed one of Ben’s flannel shirts and slipped it on over my tank top and underwear and headed for the kitchen. The coffeepot was on and the carafe was half-full.

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