Page 62 of Every Good Thing
Dot leans over and rests her hand on my knee. “It’ll be okay.”
Cherry twists in her rocker, laying her soft fingers on my good hand. “She’s right. You and Ben are one of those annoying couples that… belong.”
“You’ll get through this and be a stronger couple for it.”
“And you have us.” Cherry shrugs her bony shoulders.
“Thanks, you guys,” I say, feeling better.
Cherry’s pink manicure slides away from my hand. “How can we help?”
“Just this… your support means so much to me. The next two months will be all reconnecting with Ben. More lace won’t hurt. Let’s go see Avery.”
Seventeen
BEN
The Riley Trust Amphitheater echoes with applause as the outdoor summer concert begins. Screeching guitars, banging drums, and a thumping bass have me on my two-way, requesting another officer to switch with my central position. She arrives promptly, glad for the swap. She gets to enjoy the concert while I monitor the food truck lot, away from the speakers. My hearing aids don’t make loud noises louder, but it’s harder to hear much else in these conditions.
A brief patrol along the food trucks reveals nothing concerning. It’s a casual venue that rarely presents a problem.
But even the easy assignments prove challenging. The noise rattles in my head, increasing my sensitivity. A headache pings my temples. Lena was right—this isn’t good for me.
“Ben?”
A light tap on my arm accompanies a muffled version of my name. I turn and find Lauren. Her white shorts and soft pink sleeveless top accentuate her tan skin and remind me of long summer days together on the beach. She holds a party box of tacos from one of the trucks.
“Wow, you always did look amazing in a uniform. Funny seeing you here,” she says.
Best to ignore the uniform remark. “My captain assigned me here.”
She shrugs and grins. “You say assigned. I say a funny coincidence. We were just talking about you in the booth.”
“The booth?”
“Well, our version of a skybox.” She motions sheepishly over her shoulder at the main building overlooking the amphitheater. “The Riley booth—a little perk to funding the venue. We attend most events. Dad calls it community spirit. The gang’s all here… and hungry for tacos. Come say hello.”
“I’m on duty.” I assess my surroundings rather than her. But it’s a challenge. Her hair is up, but loose pieces dangle on her bare shoulders, stirring memories I don’t want to have. I straighten my back. “I’m turning down the position. Please extend my appreciation to your father for the opportunity.”
A beat passes.
“That’s it? You’re not even going to tell me why?”
“I’m not required to explain.”
“It’d be nice. If something’s lacking in the offer—”
“There isn’t. It’s personal. I put you and the Rileys in my rearview long ago. I don’t see a reason to go back.”
She loses her smile and glances at the ground between us. When her gray eyes land on mine again, she nods. “Not even for my mom’s weird handsiness or Uncle Rob’s gross doctor stories?”
An unstoppable laugh rumbles from me. She routinely saved me from both at their frequent family events. Jillian would loop her hand around my arm and parade me around parties—her way of getting me talking. Rob, a well-known orthopedic surgeon, shared his worst ER stories; the more graphic, the better. Lauren would swoop in when she suspected I’d reached my limit.
But I never minded. The upside to spending time with the Rileys was that they made me feel I belonged there.
Until I didn’t.
“Wow, I never thought I’d get another laugh out of you. It’s good to see you smile.” She tilts her head, scrutinizing me. “Well, I’m disappointed, but I understand. But is there any chance you could tell Dad yourself? He’ll blame me, especially if I break the bad news.”
