Once in a Lifetime(68)

“Okay, so what’s the right thing?”

Aubrey drew in a deep breath and leaned back. The truth was, she’d known deep in her gut for a long time that not telling Ben what she’d done all those years ago was not the right thing.

Which meant she really did have to tell him.

She had to hurt him.

And then, once she came clean with him, when she freed herself of the burden of the truth, she’d lose him. He wouldn’t smile at her anymore. He wouldn’t make her day by just being in her day.

He wouldn’t be in her day at all.

To do the right thing, she had to destroy the best thing that had ever happened to her. “Sometimes,” she said miserably, “I wish there was a DELETE button in life.”

Pastor Mike smiled sympathetically. “Do you want to tell me what you did?” he asked.

No. No, she wanted to never ever tell anyone what she’d done. How she’d broken Ben and Hannah up all those years ago, for a stupid, selfish reason that didn’t even matter anymore. Thank God they’d managed to get back together two years later—that they’d had a few years before Hannah had died. But Aubrey knew it wouldn’t matter to Ben. All that would matter is that she’d screwed things up for him.

And there was nothing she could do or say to make that up to him.

Nothing.





Aubrey drove back to the bookstore. As she walked through, opening the place for the day, she came to a sudden halt at the sight of the dollhouse set up in the children’s section. Weak-kneed, she sat in front of it. Ben, of course. He’d done this—for her.

She spent a few long moments staring at it and then had to reapply her mascara before she greeted any customers.





That night Ben heard a persistent honking from out front of his duplex. When he opened the door to investigate, he found the local senior center dial-a-ride van out front. The door slid open, and a bunch of blue-haired ladies peeked out and waved at him.

The driver was his aunt Dee, though her hair wasn’t blue but a bright, shiny platinum blond. He’d long since stopped being surprised by her colorful wigs. He was just happy she was past the worst of the chemo and clearly no longer depressed.

“Get in,” Dee said, waving him over. “Tonight’s the Winter Festival, remember?”

He remembered, but he shook his head in the negative. Lucky Harbor reveled in its traditions, and Winter Festival was one of them. It involved a lot of beer and wine and dancing on the pier, made possible by stands of portable heaters that kept everyone warm—as though the festivities and alcohol wouldn’t do that on their own.

But Ben didn’t feel the need to go. Luke and Jack were both working the event, so he figured he’d stay home with Kevin and a movie.



“Ah, come on,” Dee coaxed. “We need a designated driver.”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. “Why can’t he be the DD?”

At that, several male heads popped out, one of them being Ronald, Dee’s boyfriend. Another was Edward, Luke’s grandfather.

Shit. Everyone was looking at Ben hopefully. He didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t in a festival kind of mood. He’d worked hard this week, and he was physically exhausted. Mentally, too.

And Aubrey was avoiding him.

And maybe he’d been avoiding her, too, after she’d revealed her feelings. He had feelings, too, and not only wasn’t he ready for them, he didn’t want them. Fat lot of good that was doing him…

Relenting, he drove them to the festival. “Hey,” he said, holding down the door locks before anyone could escape. “This party is over in two hours, you hear me? You must be back at the van in two hours, or you’re walking home.”

This was met by a chorus of moans and groans. Dee released her seat belt and hugged Ben from behind. “That’s only ten o’clock, sweetheart. We aren’t pumpkins, you know.”

“Don’t you all need to get home to take your Metamucil?” he asked desperately, as Dee continued to hug him. There was no rushing a hug from Dee. He’d learned that years ago, when he’d first been dumped on her doorstep. She’d hugged him hello, she’d hugged him good-bye, she’d hugged him whenever she’d passed him in the hallway, and he’d squirmed over every single one. He knew she loved him. Just as he knew that sometimes she hugged him just to torture him and to amuse herself. That’s what family did—f*ck with each other. And sweet as she was, she could give as good as she got.

“Midnight,” she said now, in her soft but steely voice. “Okay, baby? We’ll owe you.”

Since he couldn’t imagine needing a favor from the seniors of Lucky Harbor, he just disentangled himself and unlocked the doors. “Midnight,” he agreed reluctantly. “Be here. I mean it.”

As Lucille padded by, she patted his shoulder. “Saw your girl yesterday at the rec center. She was volunteering at Reading Corner.”

“Reading Corner?”

“Sure. Craft Corner is Tuesdays and Fridays; Reading Corner is Wednesday. Volunteers come in and read to the kids. She was good, too—did all the voices just right. The kids ate her up.”

Ben looked into Lucille’s eyes and saw something sly. “What are you up to?” he asked warily.