Ben

When I was in tenth grade, a kid in my class named Josh Winters lost both his parents in a car accident. They were driving home from the grocery store one night, just a few miles from home, when a drunk driver slammed into their SUV. They were both killed instantly, and Josh and his younger sister were orphans. Just like that. I didn’t know him well, but I went to the wake anyway. That was the day that I realized that there will always be someone out there who has it much, much worse than I do.

I’m trying to remind myself of that as I walk to the gazebo searching for Jade. I think about Josh and his little sister, try to frame their faces in my mind and focus on the the utter devastation that painted their expressions that night at the wake . OK, our family’s definitely screwed up, but at least we’re all still alive. At least we still have each other. Things could be a lot worse. The thought rings hollow, despite my best efforts to convince myself otherwise.

Maybe I’m just a selfish, spoiled punk, but I don’t see even a glimmer of light in this situation. The past two months have been a nightmare, but I’d hoped that after the wedding, things would calm down--Mom would divorce Dad, I’d move back to my apartment and start moving on with my life, and I wouldn‘t have to see Dad ever again if I didn‘t want to. Sometimes the only thing that kept me sane the past few weeks was constantly reminding myself that once the wedding was over, things could get back to some semblance of normal. But now? As if things are ever going to be normal in this family again. What a joke.

Rage begins to simmer in my stomach and I force it down. Josh. Think about Josh. Think about what it would be like to lose both your parents like that. Think about how much worse things could be. Think about how lucky you are, Benjamin Michael. I take several deep breaths as I step into the gazebo, where Jade is huddled on a bench, her back to me.

“Hey,” I say softly.

She whirls around, clearly startled. “I…I didn’t hear you coming,” she stammers. Then she crumples into tears, and for a fraction of a second I hesitate. Her hair and makeup are disheveled and chill bumps are rising on her arms despite the heat. That, combined with the tears streaking her cheeks and the haunted look in her eyes, makes me pause. She looks so much younger, almost like the scared, lost little girl she was five years ago the day that Dad moved out. For just a moment, I realize how much Jade still is that little girl, and a wave of pity washes over me.

But only for a moment. As soon as she flings herself on me, sobbing, I stiffen and shove her away, anger and disgust churning in my stomach again. Ignore it, ignore it. You can scream at her later. Mom said not to make a scene. Come on, just get her inside. “Cut that out, Jade. I mean it. I‘m not in the mood.” I use my best stern-police-officer tone, my mouth in a hard line so she’ll realize I mean business.

She flinches as if I’d slapped her, her eyes widening before they pool with tears again. “I’m sorry,” she chokes. “I thought…I thought maybe you’d understand. You’ve been there for me so much in the past two months, and I thought maybe I could…”

I snort derisively. “The past two months? Right, when I moved home, the last place in the entire world I’d ever want to be, and drove an hour and a half each way to work every day and practically wore myself out doing it, just so that I could be around if you needed me? The past two months when I’ve tried to protect you, even though it was already too late because the worst thing that could’ve happened to you already happened? The past two months when I worried about you all the time and I was scared you’d never get over what Dad did to you? Except…oh, wait, that’s right…he didn’t really do anything to you, did he?”

“Why…” she hiccups. “Why are you being so mean to me?”

I’m not sure whether to laugh or scream. I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret so I turn to walk back to the church. Who cares if Jade misses the reception? The state she’s in, she shouldn’t go anyway. But she grabs my arm, her fingernails digging in.

“Wait!” she shrieks, her voice tinged with desperation. “Ben, please, please, listen to me!”

I yank my arm away from her and fix her with a glare that should fry her. “Keep. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Jade wails. “I just wanted…I wanted him to pay for what he did to Cassie. I tried to tell her that, and she…” Her lower lip quivers. “She said she never wants to talk to me again. She…she hit me!” Jade touches a trembling hand to her cheek and I notice the bruise that’s already forming. Cass must’ve packed quite a punch. I can’t keep the ghost of a smile from flitting across my face. Way to go, Cass.

“You poor baby,” I comment dryly. “Excuse me for not feeling very sorry for you. You’ll be lucky if she does ever talk to you again. And that goes double for Dad. What were you thinking, trying to ruin his life like that? Even if you thought he deserved it, how in the world…”

I stop myself, holding up both hands to silence Jade, since she‘s already starting to speak. “Never mind. We are not going to talk about this now. Here’s what’s going to happen: you and I are going to walk back into the church, and you are going to clean yourself up. Then we’re going downstairs for the reception, and we’re going to try to make it as good as we can for Levi and Anna. You can cry and explain everything to Mom and Dad once we’re back at the hotel. If they’ll even speak to you. But no crying at the reception. Do you understand me?”

Jade nods meekly, swallowing hard and obviously trying to hold back a fresh flood of tears. “I really am sorry,” she whispers. “Do you hate me?”

I sigh. Remember, she’s only 13. She’s still just a baby, really. “No, I don’t hate you. I’m very, very pissed off at you, but I don’t hate you. Now let’s go.”

Just before Jade slips into the ladies’ room next to the church sanctuary, I grab her arm. “Hey. It’ll be OK. And Cassie doesn’t hate you, either. She might think she does, but she’ll come around. OK?” She nods wordlessly, her eyes filling yet again. How can she possibly have any tears left? Great. Nice job, Ben.

I head downstairs before I can allow my emotions to catch up with the rest of me. I attach a cheek-splitting grin to my face, grit my teeth, and wish fervently that this reception featured an open bar. After a day like this, I’m more than ready to say “screw you” to sobriety and drink myself into total oblivion. So maybe it’s a good thing that there’s no alcohol available for the next several hours.

As soon as my feet touch the floor of the reception hall, Mom corners me. “Is everything OK?” she asks smoothly, her expression betraying nothing to the guests surrounding us.

“Yep,” I answer, hoping my own expression is equally blank. “Jade’s coming down in a few minutes. She just needed to clean herself up a little. What about Cass?”

“She’s with Ian, as far as I know. I’m sure they’ll be in soon.”

I nod and walk away from her, mingling with the guests. Most of the people here are from Levi and Anna’s church, as well as friends of theirs from college here in Portland, so I don’t know many of them. A few of our cousins and close family friends from back home flew out for the wedding, though, and soon I’m lost in a series of meaningless conversations with them. It’s awkward because I can tell they’re trying to ask, in the most politically correct, sensitive way possible, if I’m drinking or using again, if I have my life “straightened out”. I smile and nod and manage to convince them that everything’s fine, great, wonderful, never better.

I’m such a great liar. Maybe it’s genetic.

The afternoon and early evening passes in a blur of small talk with strangers and family friends who might as well be strangers. And thank God for a good DJ--this reception may not feature alcohol, but there is dancing, and that helps distract me. After Levi and Anna’s first dance, the DJ opens the floor for a couples’ dance. Cassie and Ian are the second ones on the floor, and I smile my first genuine smile of the afternoon and give Ian a thumbs up. I’m definitely not a relationships expert, but even I can see those two were made for each other. I guess it only took them two months of torture to figure it out for themselves.

After about three hours, Levi and Anna have left for their honeymoon and most of the guests are gone. Mom’s visiting with Aunt Janice, Dad’s sister, and Jade’s hanging out with a couple of our cousins and managing to look surprisingly composed and calm. No sign of Ian or Cassie, and I’d be willing to bet they’ve gone back to Ian’s hotel. We probably won’t see her for the rest of the night. Or tomorrow, I smirk to myself. But the humor falls flat, and I quietly slip out the side door of the reception hall and walk outside, feeling like there‘s a fifty pound weight hanging from my neck.

I didn’t realize how much effort it took to keep smiling and acting cheerful until I let the smile fade and exhaustion sweeps over me. I can’t remember the last time I wanted a drink this badly. Or a hit. Anything. I walk to the gazebo and pace restlessly. Just one drink. Just something to take the edge off. This has been such a crappy day, and maybe if I just had one drink…No, no, come on, Ben, you know you can’t think that way. Call your sponsor. No way, I’m not going to call him! I don’t want to talk to anyone; I just want one little drink. Why is that such a horrible thing? Why can’t I at least…

I swear softly under my breath. “God, please, a little help here?”

The voice behind me nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “What can I do to help you, Ben?”

I jerk around, convinced for a heartbeat that maybe God was actually talking to me. But my father is standing in front of me. “It’s been a hard day, huh?” He says sympathetically.

I shrug. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

“Would you like to go for a walk? Sometimes if you keep moving, it helps. It always does for me, anyway.”

“How would you know?” I mutter, still caught in the grip of longing for what I know I can’t have. It’s so intense I can practically feel its’ warmth on my tongue, its’ fire searing the back of my throat.

Dad merely raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ve been sober 27 years now. It does get easier, I promise.”

“Wait, wait,” I sputter. “You were an alcoholic? Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Dad shrugs. “You never asked. And…it’s not something I like to talk about very often.”

“You could’ve mentioned it sooner. It would’ve really helped me when I was first trying to get clean.”

“I could’ve done a lot of things differently, Ben. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past two months, it’s that I’ve made a lot of very serious mistakes in how I raised you kids. I should’ve done so many things differently. And I’m sorry for that.” His voice trembles and I look away, uncomfortable with the sudden emotion.

“It’s OK,” I answer roughly. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you when…you know, Jade…”

“Oh, Son, I don’t blame you one bit for that! If I’d been in your place, I would’ve done the exact same thing. Your mom and I haven’t had much of a chance to talk yet, but she’s told me a little bit about how much you did for her and Jade while I’ve been gone.” He lays a hand on my arm, stopping to look me in the eye. “Jade couldn’t ask for a better brother, and your mother and I couldn’t ask for a better son. I’m so proud of you.”

My throat tries to swell shut, but I force the emotion out of my voice. “What, me a better son than Levi? You sure you’re not high or something, Pop?”

He holds my gaze. “No, no, listen to me. You are the one who’s sacrificed so much the past eight weeks to be there for your mother and your sisters. You are the one who’s making the right choice right at this moment, by standing here and talking with me rather than drinking yourself into a coma at the nearest bar. You are the son I was afraid we were going to lose, and here you are. To be very honest, a year ago, I would never have believed you’d step up and be a man as much as you have the past few months. You’re a better man than I am, Benjamin. I know you struggle with some of the same issues I did when I was younger, but you‘re going to succeed far more than I ever did.”

I look away from him so he won’t see me blinking the moisture out of my eyes. How did he know that some part of me has always been terrified that I’m going to turn out like him, to repeat all of his mistakes? I’ve never admitted it out loud, not even to myself. How did he know?

“Dad,” I croak. “I…”

“It’s OK. I know. I’ll just…leave you to your thoughts for awhile, all right? If you need anything, come and get me. I’m sure your mom and Janice will be talking for another hour,” he adds with a smile. He squeezes my arm and walks away.

I walk back to the gazebo as if I’m stumbling through fog. I sink down onto the bench and lower my head into my hands. You’re a better man than I am, Benjamin. It hits me with a jolt that I still love my dad very much, even though I tried for months to convince myself that I hated him. And just as jarring is the realization that some part of me has wanted all along to hear him say the things he said tonight. For those few moments, it felt like all the father-son talks he used to give me and Levi when we were kids. It felt like it used to, before everything changed. I would give anything to get that back. I would give anything to go back to the days when my dad was my hero.

I wish I understood why that realization makes me cry.