~ To Say Goodbye ~

by

Beth Lapin

After walking the beach again the following Saturday, on their way back to their cars, Ben asked, “Shall we grab a coffee? There’s a place on Main Street.”

“Ah, the Koffee Kafé. Sure.”

Maia and Ben opened their doors and the dogs hopped in their owners’ cars without looking back. While driving along Main Street, Maia decided it really was a lot easier being a dog. She pulled into the parking lot of the small restaurant and glanced at the other cars. She relaxed when she didn’t recognize anyone. She didn’t want to have to introduce Ben to any of those nosy biddies in town who talked about her behind her back.

They sat at a small bistro table near the window, with Maia chatting until there was silence. Maia noticed his lack of participation in the conversation and wondered if they should have gone to The Inn for a drink instead. After a pause, Ben picked up the slack. “I’ll get our coffee. What would you like?”

“Decaf, black, thanks.”

With that, Ben went to the counter, ordered two cups of coffee and gathered sugar and creamers to bring back to the table. As he waited, Maia thought Ben glanced at her in the mirror behind the counter. Maybe he was interested. Then she reminded herself that he was looking for a friend for his dog. Plus, he was from the City and she was just a small town lady. However she etched in her memory the outline of his straight back and shoulders and the way his graying hair touched the collar of his navy sweater.

He brought the steaming coffees back to the table and Maia smiled at him. “Thanks, Ben.”

They sipped in silence for a few minutes. Maia found herself wondering why Ben’s wife had left. Maia knew she had been a poor judge of character previously and hoped to avoid that mistake again. “So, your wife’s been gone awhile?” she blurted. There, it was out in the open, thought Maia.

Ben looked quickly at Maia and then at his coffee. After what seemed like a long pause, he answered, “A few years. She left just after September eleventh.” Maia looked encouragingly but Ben said no more. He had a sad, distant look on his face, his eyes were on his coffee and his right hand was fiddling with his napkin, which he had folded, twisted and ripped into an unrecognizable wad.

“What about you? Divorced, right?” he asked, looking up.

“Yes, for almost a year now,” she said, glancing at her slender fingers that sported no rings. She hated that word and tried to remain calm. She had vowed to not vent about her ex. Well, exes. Or rant about how every man always left her. However, her gut clenched and her inhalations pulled her nostrils. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t prevent her thoughts from continuing down that lonely self-loathing road.

Returning their eyes to the table, they sipped their coffees. Then Ben got up rather abruptly, scraping his wrought iron chair unceremoniously as it wobbled a bit. He too was unsteady when he reached over to touch her elbow.

“I’ll get more napkins,” he said and turned toward the counter.

Maia was puzzled until she realized that her face was wet from tears he must have noticed. Oh, dear lord, she moaned, would this ever stop? She didn’t usually let this happen in public. She wondered if it was because she was drinking coffee instead of wine. Or maybe something about Ben opened her up, she considered as an afterthought.

Ben returned, gave her a few napkins and moved his chair closer. When he sat down, Maia felt she owed him an explanation and said, “My dad disappeared when I was a kid.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her slightly to him.

“I don’t know what happened to him. But he was gone. Just like…” Maia didn’t want to say more about her exes. They sat there silently for a few minutes, while she wiped her face and tried to breathe normally again. It was comforting to be there with him, the smell of the ocean mixed with his shampoo. She tried to prevent her mind from considering how her father had smelled. She finally was able to breathe deeply and attempted to give Ben a smile.

She saw him glance at his watch and his eyebrows arched with surprise. Immediately, she interpreted that to mean he was going to leave her.

“Look,” he said, with warmth in his voice. “I put some chili in the crock pot this morning and it’s probably ready. Let’s go to my place and get some food. A good meal helps me feel better. How about it?”

Images of potential romance at Ben’s house made the coffee in Maia’s stomach rise in her throat. She just wanted to be alone, alone with Orion. She could imagine reading by the fire, with Orion curled at her feet. She knew she should pull herself together and say no nicely. Besides, Maia guessed, his chili was probably overly spicy to prove he was a man and could eat anything. She never understood why people ate food that was so hot they couldn’t enjoy the taste.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “The dogs will have a good time together and we can get something nutritious into us.”

As Ben pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced in his rearview mirror to check for Maia. The sunlight played up the red highlights in her hair, making him wonder about her age. He hoped she didn’t think he was too old, self-consciously aware of his graying hair. While waiting at a stoplight, he could see Maia fidgeting, brushing her hair from her eyes, and looking out the side window. Maybe she was nervous, too. Or maybe she was sorry she said she’d come and was ready to be done with him. Relationships were just so complicated and this one hadn’t even started. Besides, he was out of practice at reading the signs and responding. His failure as a husband had poked holes in his self-image as a capable man. Uncomfortable with those thoughts, he considered Maia and the loss of her father. He wondered how it related, if at all, to her divorce, as he watched, relieved, as she followed him down his street.

The driveway was longer than she recalled but it had been a while since she had been to the Westins’ house. She had gone to a summer party under a tent and didn’t remember going inside the house at all. Actually, there was a lot about that night she didn’t remember.

With Maia following, Ben drove up the gravel way and parked in front of the garage. When they opened their car doors, the dogs raced out, Stella trotting to the side door of the house and Orion right behind. So much for loyalty.

Maia grabbed her purse and got out of the car. Ben had unlocked the door and let the dogs into the house. He left the door ajar and she followed hesitantly.

The smell of tomato and spices hit her as she watched Ben hanging his coat on a peg by the back door. She was in a small foyer that led into the kitchen, the source of that mouth-watering smell. Ben had lifted the crock-pot cover and was stirring the mixture inside. Maia‘s stomach started to grumble. She hadn’t even realized she was hungry.

Ben reached into the cupboard, grabbed a box and turned on the oven. “I have corn bread mix if you’re willing to help,” he said with a hint of a smile on his face.

Maia hung her coat on one of the empty hooks on the rack and walked to the kitchen counter. Ben had taken out a baking pan, oil, eggs and a measuring cup so she could put the mixture together. Meanwhile, he was carrying plates to a small table in an alcove bathed in sunlight.

While the corn bread was baking, Ben made small talk, asked her what she wanted to drink (“Beer?” “Yes, please”), and kept an eye on the dogs who were chasing each other through various rooms on the main floor of the house. Within a short time, the corn bread was ready and he served the chili.

Maia sat at the small table and tried to reconcile where she was, here in this house with this guy Ben who was smiling at her. Her stomach was in knots. God, couldn’t she just relax and enjoy being with someone for a change instead of worrying about what happened next and when he would lose interest in her? She decided to take a lesson from Orion, who was happily drinking from the water bowl in the corner of the kitchen.

They ate quietly. The chili was surprisingly decent with a rich taste and not too much spice.

“Ben,” she said, “this is good. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Glad you like it. You’re my first guest at my new house.” Connecting with her eyes, Ben smiled and stretched his long legs to the side of the table. She could hear the kitchen clock ticking and looked at the old-fashioned dial. She used its sound to match her breathing, in-out, in-out, to help her relax.

“So, when did your father leave?” he asked.

The suddenness of his question caught her off guard and she answered without her usual avoidance. “When I was in grade school, I came home one day and he was gone.” She paused and he looked encouragingly at her. “My mother didn’t say much, didn’t talk about it, and didn’t explain. He was just gone.”

“Maybe you should find out where he went. I mean, there might be a simple answer.”

Maia guessed Ben was trying to be helpful. There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice or smirk on his face, unlike people with similar suggestions during her adolescence. It sounded reasonable when Ben said it that way. But through the years, the story of her father’s disappearance had taken on a life of its own. It was her family secret, talked about in hushed tones so she couldn’t overhear. When she saw people huddled, whispering, Maia knew exactly what they were discussing.

“I’ve thought about it for years, as you can imagine. But by now, I’m not sure I can handle the answer. Do I want to know that he was killed, or just up and left us to live somewhere with another family? You read about those things all the time. I felt weird enough being the one whose father just disappeared but then to bring it up again and become a tabloid topic—I don’t know if I could deal with that.” She didn’t mention her fear that she had been the cause for his departure; that was too much to share or even verbalize aloud.

Ben got up, cleared the plates from the table and put them in the sink. “Well, it’s not as though he was Charles Kuralt, for example,” he said, rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. “We loved and trusted his commentaries on small town America. When he died and his second family was discovered, we learned he had been living this big lie, which made me wonder if his reporting had been true. His double life impacted many people. I don’t mean to be rude, but your family…well, it’s just your family who would find out.”

Again, Maia could see the validity to what he was saying and it challenged her life-long fear of discovering the truth, particularly about her role in it. And made her very uncomfortable. “I’ll think about it, Ben. I will. Meanwhile, I need to get going. I have some work to do.”

Surprised by her abrupt departure, Ben hugged her as she headed out the door with Orion. “Take care of yourself,” he said.

“You, too.”