“That sounds like a good idea.”
Hani nodded, wiping a hand over his face. He looked utterly exhausted.
“Do you want to take a break for a while?” I asked. “I can hold down the fort, clean up, get some meals prepped and in the freezer for you to reheat later.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Ella.”
“You’re welcome.”
He patted me on the shoulder and moved toward the hallway. At the door, he paused and turned back. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad Benny has someone like you in his life. That you’ve been here for him when we couldn’t be. I hope you stick around through this.”
I nodded at him, afraid to speak.
He turned and shuffled away. I listened to him climb the staircase. I waited as the floorboards creaked on the landing. Upstairs, a bedroom door closed, and I let go. The tears I’d held at bay sprang to my eyes and slid down my cheeks. I folded my arms on the countertop and buried my face in them to muffle my sobs.
Ben. Oh, God, Ben.
I cried so hard that I started to feel nauseous, something I hadn’t done since I was a child. All my preparation for a worst-case scenario felt useless in the face of his diagnosis. Because I’d never really given up hope. Even in my worst moments, that tiny spark of light had remained, guiding me on. Now it was snuffed out, and I was left bereft in a sea of darkness.
Enough,I finally told myself.
I stood. Tears still streaked from my eyes, but I forced myself to work through them. First, I finished unloading the rest of the groceries. Then I saw to the dishes in the sink, loading the dishwasher and hitting run while the pots and pans dried on the towels I’d spread over the counter. I went to the broom closet and swept the entire first floor.Scrubbed the bathroom down. Took out the trash. Got the pellet stove going in the basement. Lit a fire in the sitting room.
I worked for three hours straight without hearing a sound from anyone else in the house. It was like I was there by myself. Darkness started to fall, and I returned to the kitchen. I pulled up a recipe app and searched through the contents of the kitchen, finding all of the ingredients for a huge pot of chicken soup. While it cooled, I got started in on a hearty beef stew. The meal prep served as a good distraction. Chopping, dicing, straining, stirring, measuring – these things forced my focus. As the broth for the stew simmered, I poured out the chicken soup into smaller glass jars, then snapped the lids on and stacked them in the freezer.
Hani ambled back into the kitchen just as the timer for the stew went off. “Smells good. Can I help with anything?”
“Nope,” I told him. “Did you want some?”
“Yes, please.”
He tucked his large frame down onto one of the barstools, and I ladled him out a bowl.
“When was the last time Ben and Klara ate?” I asked.
“Breakfast,” he answered in between spoonfuls. “I can take some to Klara when I’m done.” He looked up at me then. “Do you want to take Ben his?”
Did I? Was I strong enough to hold myself together in front of him right now? Did I even need to hold myself together in front of him right now?
“I do,” I made myself say.
Hani finished his stew, and I handed him a second bowl to take to his wife. I ladled out another for Ben, and set it aside for a minute to pour the remaining contents of the pot into freezer containers andpop them in next to the chicken soup. Then I gathered my courage and headed upstairs, pausing outside his door.
No sound came from within, so I knocked. “Ben? It’s Ella.”
“Come in,” he answered.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. The room was pitch black and smelled kind of like a bear den: musky, a little sour.
“Hang on,” he said, voice low and hoarse.
His nightstand light clicked on, illuminating his bedroom. Clothes littered the floor. His comforter was half off the bed. The sheets twisted around his legs. He was shirtless, his skin looking three shades lighter than the last time I had seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was a mane of tangled curls.
His bloodshot eyes met mine. “Ella.”
My heart broke at the sound of so much loss and grief packed so tightly into my name. I shut the door behind me, set the soup on his dresser, and went to him.
He reached out and pulled me down onto the bed, hugging me tight to his chest.
