Page 110 of Hell Bent
I wasn’t counting on this thing. I was trying to enjoy it and not look down the road. I needed to focus on my job instead, and on figuring out what I wanted to do next. So why, the next Sunday, when I should be prepping for the week ahead, was I sitting with Ben and about sixty-eight thousand other people in a Pittsburgh football stadium that was open to every one of the elements, including a whistling wind that seemed to come straight from the North Pole? The weather report said it was blowing at fourteen miles an hour. It felt more like forty.
What had happened was that the Devils were playing the Steelers in the divisional championship, and when Sebastian and Ben had come home from Vancouver on Tuesday night, both white, silent, and strained, and I’d been eating jackfruit tacos and black beans with them—I was getting too used to this food delivery thing—Sebastian had said abruptly, “Want to come to the game on Sunday, Ben?”
Ben had looked up from his plate for the first time and said, “I guess.”
I was just thinking that this was mighty tricky, and that no matter how much I’d wanted to be here for both of them, I shouldn’t have come over tonight—what was I, their mother?—when Sebastian asked, “Want to bring him, Alix? It’s in Pittsburgh.”
“I know that,” I said. “I’ve followed that much, anyway.” And looked between them. “Uh …” Well, this was awkward.
Sebastian sighed and laid down his fork. “Do you need me to tell you that I want you to come?”
“Well, yes,” I said. “If you really do.”
“Right.” He stood up from the table. “Come talk to me.”
Ben said, “You guys sure have a lot of serious talks. I thought going out with somebody was, like, going out and having fun, not being in a French movie.”
“What do you know about French movies?” I asked. “You secret sophisticate, Ben.”
He smiled, which was a first for tonight. “French class. It’s Canada. French movies are never anything interesting with action, just a bunch of talking.”
“Talking would make sense,” I said, “if they’re trying to teach you the language.”
He shrugged. “I guess. Does anybody want the last two tacos?”
“Go for it,” Sebastian said. “Come talk to me, Alix.”
I followed him into the bedroom and said, “This is getting to be a habit.”
He didn’t answer, just frowned at me. The lines around his mouth were deeper, showing the strain. I stepped forward, put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Hey. It was hard, huh.”
He looked away, ran a hand through his hair, and said, “Yeah. It was a better day for her, the aide said. She was more aware, not as out of it. But—” He stopped.
“But?” I asked.
“But the aide said that can happen toward the end,” he said. “A burst of energy, clarity, like that. Maybe to give them the chance to say goodbye.” He sat on the bed as if his own energy had given out. “I felt bad, leaving. Taking Ben away.”
I sat beside him, took his hand, wished for something brilliant to say, and came up with, “You had no choice.”
“I know,” he said. “I know.”
“And you want Ben to come see your game,” I said, treading carefully. “For him, or for you?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just do. It doesn’t feel right to leave him here.” He looked at me at last. “Or to leave you. But you’d have to take time off. I mean, obviously I’ll pay for the flights and the hotel room, but?—”
I said, “So you want me to bring Ben,andyou want me to come.”
He was frowning hard now. “What have I just been saying?”
“I thought you might be being nice,” I said. “What about Lexi?”
“Seriously?” he said. “That’s your objection? I get a dogsitter, that’s what.”
“Thomas, maybe,” I said. “That would be easy on you, and staying here and taking care of the world’s friendliest dog isn’t exactly a hardship post.”
“There you go,” he said. “So do you want to come?”
“Sebastian.” I had to laugh. He looked startled, but at least he wasn’t frowning anymore. “Of course I want to come. And you don’t have to buy my ticket or pay for my hotel room. Don’t be ridiculous. I may not be making millions of dollars, but I can buy a plane ticket.”
