“And what’ll you have?” she asks, sweet as can be. “If you’re looking for something sweet, I love the?—”
“I’ll just take the Boston waffle,” I interject before she has the chance to recommend it to me. Ben stifles a laugh behind his menu before handing it to Bethany.
“That’ll be right out,” she throws over her shoulder, hurrying off to a table of elderly men playing dominoes.
“Okay, there are seven book shops within a five mile radius of the city center that claim to have at least one copy of the book. Can you believe I couldn’t get a single bookseller to tell me how many copies they had? Anyway, we can split up, you know, divide and conquer. That way we’re not both trekking uphill and downhill just to find this book all day.”
“While I appreciate your logic and your prior preparation, Ididthink we’d be trekking uphill and downhill together. Were your designer boots not designed for such strenuous exercise?” he teases, that mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Well, no I— I’m not sure actually. They feel industrial, but I guess we’ll find out. Just remember that I offered you a way out, Cabot. I’ve built a couple pit stops in my route. If we won’t divideand conquer, then you are along for the ride,” I say, giving him one more opportunity to back track.
At every turn, he’s choosing to spend this time with me, and I’m choosing to let him. I should make him stay away, but the words don’t make their way out of my mouth.I don’t want to turn him away. I don’t think I could if I tried.
“Funny, I don’t remember asking for a way out,” he replies, smug with satisfaction.
By the time we’ve located two copies of the bookandvisited Veronica Beard— because I was not going to give that up for anybody— the sun is past its peak, its warming powers quickly diminishing. We’re only a few blocks from where Ben parked, if I remember correctly, when he pauses to answer his phone.
“Hey, Mom,” Ben softly mutters, sympathy padding each word. “I can’t right now I’m— well no I’m—” My brows furrow in question, and I attempt to mime that I’m up for whatever, but instead I think I look like I’m sternly shaking my head. He checks the time on his phone before sighing, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah no, I understand that. I’ll text you once I’m with him. Kay. You too.” When he hangs up the phone, I catch the tension flickering in his jaw.
“Everything good?” I essentially chirp in my best attempt to be easygoing.
“Actually, no. There’s something I need to do, but I understand if you need to go. I can call you an Uber or?—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ben. I do not Uber,” I jokingly scoff, though I am dead serious. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be. Honestly. Is everything okay?” I add when I clock the look of worry on his face.
“My mom can’t get a hold of her dad— my grandfather. He lives here,” he pauses, like he’s revealed something he didn’t mean to. “This happens sometimes, and he’s probably fine but…”
“She wants you to check on him,” I state, looping my arm through his. “Lead the way. I’ve already added “Wellness Check” to the itinerary. If we can stop at Veronica Beard’s we can stop at…?”
“Theodore Cabot’s,” he finishes, a reserved smile disguising any worry that was just there.
“Good old Teddy. I’m sure he’s just fine,” I reassure him, gazing up into his eyes swirling with worry, curiosity, and something else that causes my stomach to flutter.
His smile morphs into a brilliant beam, transforms into an open mouthed chuckle.
“What?” If he’s laughing at me, I’d like to know what about.
“I just had no clue that the girl who told me to fuck off could be this… sunny,” he says, staring at me in bewilderment. I must look the same because I feel incredibly bewildered by such an assessment.
“In no universe would anyone, not even my father, call me a single ray of sunshine. Let’s get going, Cabot. I think you’re weary from our journey,” I joke, patting his forearm in an attempt to downplay whatever he meant. It must work, because he doesn’t bring it up again.
Suddenly, we’re before a brownstone, the door painted red. Ben pulls out a set of keys and opens the door. Immediately, my nose is assaulted by the smell of Pine Sol, that one sickly sweet vanilla scented candle, and elderly man. Once the assault wears off, I realize the smell is pleasant, and I imagine it to be the smell I might associate with a loving grandparent, if I had any.
“Grandfather!” Ben shouts out, through the opulent townhouse.
Nothing. Silence. “Grandfather?”
Again, nothing. Ben shakes his head in disbelief. “Pop!” he shouts, exasperated.
A walker glides out from a doorway near the rear, followed by Pop whose hands desperately grasp the handles. “If I hear you call megrandfatherone more damn time, I’ll—” Ben clears his throat gruffly, censuring Theodore. “Who’s this?” the old man grumbles, face scrunching up at the sight of me.
“Olivia, sir,” I say, offering my hand, walking up to him. The closer I get the clearer it is that amusement, not consternation, dances in his tired eyes.
“Olivia? And how do you know my Ben?” We both glance Ben’s way as we see him slip his phone back into his pocket.
“Oh, well… we have—” I begin, but Ben takes over.
“Olivia is Will’s girl, Pop,” he says with such finality, I feel it like a fresh wound littered with salt. “But we’re in a seminar together. We were just running an errand for it.”An errand to run, like a tedious task to check off as quickly as possible.I shift my weight, eager to escape. “Mom said you weren’t answering again,” he swiftly switches subjects.
