Forty-Six
Two weeks later
Summer had taken New York City by the throat, and the second Friday in July was a t-shirt-soaking scorcher. Heat radiated off the pavement, everyone moved slower, and overworked air conditioners groaned across the city, their fight against the relentless humidity a losing battle.
LaGuardia Place in Greenwich Village sizzled in the early afternoon sun, but Ben and Riley had found one of the few shaded spots—a bench underneath the bubblegum pink awning of DŌ. They sat thigh to thigh, devouring their treats—a loaded brownie bar for Ben and a single scoop of Nuts for Nuts cookie dough jammed with Reese’s Cups and Pieces for Riley.
Riley and sweets—I’ve never seen someone so happy. Ben watched behind his sunglasses, her spoon about to dig in again. Two weeks in and she’s still here. I’m still here, haven’t bolted or ghosted—that’s a first. Riles, what have you done to me? Leaning in, Ben kissed her forehead. “Who’d have thought, eh? A fortnight of dirty sex and getting sozzled.”
A wistfulness tainted her grin. “I wish! I’ve missed you, Ben.”
Taking in her sundress and her long hair tied in a loose ponytail, his smile wilted. “Work’s a bugger for keeping us apart, and so are our flatmates for being home. Two quickies in two weeks?”
“I know.” She sighed. “I’m frustrated, too.”
“If only one of us had a bedroom…or a car, somewhere private.”
Riley kissed him and laid her head on his shoulder, his Duran Duran t-shirt slightly damp. “There’s always public restrooms…”
Wha—really? “Riles…?”
The rise in Ben’s voice made Riley lift her head. “Well, needs must, right?” She sucked on her spoon. “And it checks dirty sex off that list—”
“I’m always up for that!”
“I bet you are!” Riley laughed, catching his naughty grin. “Oh! You’re not joking? You’ve had restroom sex?”
“Ohhh yeah—several times.” His eyes curved into cheeky crescents. “Haven’t you?”
“No, but I’ve done it on a boat.”
“Really?! Blimey, the Staten Island Ferry?”
“No!” She giggled. “At Josh’s family cottage, upstate. We did it in the water, too.”
“Ahh, mermaid sex? Yeah, that’s hot.” He leaned in and growled in her ear. “God, what I wouldn’t do right now to slip you out of your wet bikini bottoms and take you in the sand.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re really not helping.”
“The beach…California, yeah? One day.” Leaving a kiss in her hair, he sat back, picking up the napkin-wrapped brownie from his thigh. He crossed his legs, hiding the growing ridge in his jeans. Aw, mate, don’t start what you can’t finish.
“One day, yeah.” She smiled coquettishly, her gaze sweeping his crotch before returning to her spoon. “That’s it for me, though. No other exotic locales to speak of, just a bedroom at a house party, in a closet—once. Oh, a pool table, but that was in my first boyfriend’s basement. How ’bout you? Ever gone beyond the restroom?” She laughed.
“Oh, a few places.”
“Like?” She licked chocolate off her thumb.
Ahh, Riles, what you’re doing to me! “You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah, I do.” She leaned in. “You started it!”
“Er, ooo-kay. Well…on the train from Windsor to London, in a TopMan changing room, an alley behind a pub—or two.” He caught her arched eyebrows. “All right, more than two.” Okay, time to shut this down. He nibbled his brownie and watched sweaty New Yorkers wilting in the shop’s long line. “You know, just horny teenage stuff.”
Riley bit her lip. “I lost my virginity in a backyard shed. There was a weird garden gnome staring at us the whole time.”
“Ugh. I lost mine on a playground slide.”
“Seriously? With your clumsy balance?” She laughed. “Where else have you done it?”
I like how she’s not judgy or embarrassed. He set down his brownie. “A stairwell at uni, in a tent at a music festival, backstage at a theater—in my Tempest costume—”
“Ooh, did you finish with a standing O?”
He chuckled. “Nearly went all the way on the top deck of a London bus. Oh, yeah, at the Imperial War Museum—”
“A war museum? Not sexy!”
“When the urge arises…” Ben sighed and shifted again on the bench. “Ahh, Hope, too bad there’s no restroom here.”
Riley dug her spoon into her cup of peanut butter joy and left it there. Her shoulders deflated, disappointment in her eyes. “I wish you didn’t have to work tonight. It’s been six nights in a row.”
“I know, it sucks.” Ben put his arm around her and left a kiss on her temple. I know she wants me to call her my girlfriend, and I want to, but I can’t…not yet. Being emotionally attached, relied upon for more than shits and giggles—it’s so new. I need to get used to it. I want to get used to it. He kissed her again. “At least we have thirty minutes together before I have to head in, eh? And I’ll call you on my break.”
“I still feel bad about Thursday.”
“I feel bad about you getting told off.” Ben picked up his brownie again. “I shouldn’t have dropped in on you. You can’t blame your boss.”
“No, but I can blame the new girl in skincare and her loitering boyfriend. Now, none of us can have visitors.”
“Well, if you stopped in the diner mid-shift, I’d have to ignore you, too. It’s tourist bloody central. Fuck, it’s nuts, and I reckon it’ll get more bonkers as summer rolls on.” He gnawed the brownie’s edge. “But they’ll have to make do without me on July 27th…”
Riley’s eyes brightened. “You…?!”
“Yep, got it off.”
“YES!” Riley dove in for a kiss, sending her spoon falling to the sidewalk.
Ben held her close before pulling back slightly, his lips brushing hers. “Happy early birthday,” he whispered and kissed her again.
“When did you find out?”
“Last night.” Smiling, he tilted forward, pulling an extra plastic spoon from his back pocket, handing it to her. “So, I’ve got two weeks to work my magic! Come on, then, what would Ms. Hope like most for her birthday?”
She sucked in her bottom lip, her face reddening.
She’s gonna cry. Oh, Fagan, what are you like! Ben’s heart ached. He dropped his brownie on the napkin surfing his lap. “Aw, Riley.” He pulled her in. “I’m sorry! Stupid question.”
“No, it’s not—”
“It is—what you want most, I can’t give you…”
Her shuddering breath warmed his neck. “It’s just…Mom hasn’t been feeling great, and birthdays always make me think…”
“Think…?” He gently stroked her hair.
“What will they be like if…?” A sob stuck in her throat. “M-My mind keeps going there.”
“Yeah, I did that when Mum was in hospital”—Ben kissed the top of her head—“I would play this awful game of ‘what if’: What if she got sicker? What if Mum didn’t make it to my birthday?”
Riley nodded, understanding in her tearful eyes.
“I’d get so angry and upset—sometimes, so upset, I’d throw up, and then I’d feel even worse—guilty like, for not being positive and hopeful…almost like I was letting her down.”
“Exactly.” Riley wiped her cheek.
“One time, I was crying by the elevators and a male nurse came over.” Ben rubbed his nose. “God, nurses are so underrated. He sat me down, bought chocolate buttons and milk, and let me ramble. He said, ‘That’s completely normal, son. It’s anticipatory grief.’ That was a bit of a mouthful for a twelve-year-old, so he broke it down, said I was grieving for the potential loss of my mum and my life as I knew it, but those thoughts didn’t mean I was giving up on her and he said I shouldn’t feel guilty about them. Amazing, eh? He saw this wee kid in bits and took a half-hour to sit down with me. I felt understood. I still had moments of ‘what if’, but I wasn’t so hard on myself for having them anymore.” Ben lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head, the plastic frames sweeping his hair back from his face. “Riles, you’re grieving, fearing for your mom and the life you share.” He brushed a loose wisp of hair from her eyes. “You are allowed to feel this way, and when you do, remember you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you, and so are Piper and Casey—and Maggie. From what you’ve told me, if anyone can beat this thing, it’s her.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as she shifted, finding the sweet spot in the nook of Ben’s neck. “Thank you.” She sniffed. “You just being here, holding me, makes me feel less sad.”
Ben gave her a squeeze. “I’m guessing Maggie really celebrates your birthday big?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but not this year. Her last chemo treatment is that morning.”
“Oh, really? That’s a huge deal, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’d like to mark the occasion for her, but from past experience, I know she won’t want a fuss.” Riley sat back and looked at her spoon. “She’ll be tired after being prodded and poked, so drinks and lots of people around are out, but that’s the thing—she’ll still want to throw some over-the-top birthday thing for me. I don’t want her to overdo it, staying up late, but there’s no telling her. When her mind’s set…”
This is what you can give her—give them both. A soft grin tweaked his cheeks. “Well, I could organize something for you and Maggie that afternoon if you’d like?”
“Oh, Ben! That’s really sweet, but you don’t have to—”
“I know, but I want to. I mean, if Maggie’s okay having me ’round after her treatment?”
“Of course! But you’d have to come out to Staten Island, take the ferry…”
“Ooh, Riles—you inviting me for a sexy boat ride?!” He raised an eyebrow. “You filthy minx.”
Riley laughed. “That’s me!”
He grinned. “So, who should I invite to your party?”
“Keep it small, Piper and Casey. I wanna cheer Pip up—she’s been bummed ever since Cicely moved to London. You can skip Erika. She’s in full-on wedding mode—oh! I knew there was something I meant to tell you: she invited you, right after I told her about us.”
“Aw! Was she happy?” Ben’s eyebrows rose gleefully.
Riley scratched her nose. “Um, yeah…”
She’s fibbing. “Erika doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”
“What?” She squinted. “Nooo!”
“You saw the look she gave me when we arrived at her party.”
“No, I didn’t—”
“Riley! C’mon, Erika’s face gives everything away. She’d be shite at poker.” He frowned at his sneakers. “Is it because I’m a waiter? Because of Leia? My clothes?” He looked at Riley quizzically. “I’ve always been nice to her—”
“It’s because you’re not Josh.” Riley huffed.
“Oh. Well, thank Christ for that.” His chuckle gave way to a concerned squint. “But why is that a bad thing? Doesn’t she want you to be happy?”
“No, she does, it’s just…Erika didn’t want anything to change. If I married Josh and became a hockey wife like her, all the things she and I had in common the past three years would still be there. Josh and me breaking up meant I’ve broken that bond with her. I’m moving on and I think she’s having a hard time with it.”
“But you went to high school together. You’ve got other things in common, right?”
“I don’t know if we do, to be honest…” Riley shrugged. “Not anymore.”
“Aw, that’s a shame.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Well, see how things are after the wedding and take it from there? Maybe it’s wedding stress making her weird?”
“God, I’m dreading going.”
“Why? Because of Leia?”
Riley nodded slowly. “Not only her, but yeah.”
“Hope, you have to talk to her sometime—you’re both bridesmaids.”
“Not by choice. Leia and I have never been close, so why start now? Especially now.” Staring at her cookie dough, Riley retreated into silence.
This is my fault. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, change the subject. Ben kissed her forehead again. “Sooo…birthday plans. Do you want me to order in or play Jamie Oliver? Jamie’s not a stretch—he’s dyslexic.”
Riley’s expression perked up. “Really? But he can cook!” She snickered. “Could we order in? Is that okay? It would feel like a treat.”
“Fine by me. I’ll get whatever you want: pizza, wings, burritos…?”
“Burritos…and cake?”
“Hell yeah! Can’t break the Hope family’s nonnegotiable birthday rules.” He bit into his brownie and squeezed her closer.