Page 23 of Every Good Thing
“I appreciate the itinerary.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “You like knowing the plan—I remember.”
My nerves retreat, and my shoulders relax. I do like knowing the plan.
The waiter brings a charcuterie board with meats, cheeses, grapes, olives, crackers, and figs—Lena makes similar arrangements for groups at Saddletree. He pours pinot grigio into long-stemmed glasses.
She takes a healthy sip. “I heard you’re married.”
So much for avoiding anything personal. Still, it’s good to be clear. “Yes. To Lena. We have a daughter, Ruthie.” A glance at her left hand confirms the absence of a ring.
She catches me looking and holds up her bare hand. “I never married. Finding that perfect someone is not as easy as people make it seem. All the good ones are taken, and what’s left are bitter divorcees or unscrupulous dolts after my family’s money.” She chuckles again. “Occasionally, I’ll meet a nice guy, but he always ends up too clingy or untidy. You know I can’t abide disorder.”
Picking up Lena’s discarded clothes comes to mind. “With the right person, you’d be surprised.”
“It’s all okay, though.” Her wide smile returns but seems forced. “I love my independence. I do what I want when I want, and no one but Mom and Dad complain about it.”
I say nothing, not that she expects a response.
“I have two sons.” She grabs her phone, prompting the home screen with her pink-nailed fingers. Then, she shows me a picture of herself standing between two tall, well-built young men with toothy smiles.
“That’s Frederick and Omar. Twins. They’re Haitian.” She smiles adoringly.
This information floors me. “Um, excellent.”
“Shocker, right?” She tucks her phone away, sheepishly. “After… us, I took some time for myself.” She sets the binder aside and adjusts the linen napkin in her lap. “Through Riley Trust’s humanitarian efforts with Doctors Without Borders, I traveled to all the places we support: Indonesia, the Philippines, Nigeria, Yemen, and Iraq.”
Her oration falters at the mention of a country she knows I spent time in.
She clears her throat. “It was eye-opening—you were right, Ben.” Her brow twinges with regret. “I was sheltered and selfish… what did you call it? Blissfully ignorant.”
“No, Lauren, I’m sorry. I regret saying those things to you. I was…” I don’t know how to finish my sentence, words getting stuck in my throat over the shame and anger I still feel.
She waves this off. “It’s okay. If you hadn’t, I never would’ve gone. I met Frederick and Omar at an orphanage in Haiti. They were rambunctious eight-year-olds, and we hit it off immediately. They did that twin thing you and Becca used to do… they had their own language.”
I nod. Becca and I still enjoy our warped pig Latin. It drives Lena crazy when we do it around her.
“Best thing I’ve ever done. I replaced you and me with Cub Scouts and soccer. They were my rebound boys.” She laughs. “They’re at Duke now. Omar’s pre-med, and Frederick’s pre-law—he’s great at arguing.”
“Rob must be thrilled at the prospect of a lawyer in the family.”
A robust laugh erupts from her. “Uncle Rob’s on his fourth wife… so, yeah.”
I nod—he was on his second when we were together. I expected more. I sip my wine and sample the meats, trying to hide how her laugh pleases me. It’s a relief to hear it under the circumstances.
She clinks her glass to mine. “Thanks for making this easy. I was so worried.”
“Me, too.”
After a long sip, I decide this is okay. I set my glass down, and my eyes find hers again. Gray in this light, like they might be invisible.
The slight rise of her bare shoulders and hopeful smile take me back to when she’d rush from her house when I pulled into her driveway and raced into my arms as soon as I exited my car. She’d wrap her legs around me and lavish me with kisses.
Lauren made me feel like the most important person in the world.
Until she didn’t.
She opens the binder upside down so I can read it. “We’re very excited about the prospect of you joining our team. Let’s discuss what’s in it for you.”
