Adversaries and Lovers (11 page)

And Kate was beginning to see a clear pattern to Grandma’s behavior. Bring up something she doesn’t want to face, and Grandma takes refuge in the sanctuary of her bedroom.

Kate gave her some time to adjust to the revelation, but after an hour had passed and Grandma had still not come out, Kate knocked on the door. “Grandma, you can’t hide in there forever,” she said. “We need to finish the posters.”

“I’m not hiding,” Grandma snapped. “I’m just putting some things away.” When at last Grandma opened the door, Kate looked beyond her. She could tell that the trunk had been moved away from the foot of the bed just enough so the curved top could be lifted, and she knew Grandma had been looking at the old photos, or maybe reading the letters.

Kate abandoned the subject of Henry Stassen, and before long, she and Grandma were back working on the posters. But Kate could tell that Grandma was distracted. Her hand with the marker would still, and she’d look off for a few moments then return to her lettering, but with less attention to detail than before she’d learned about Henry’s leg.

Kate was busy lettering STASSENS SPORTS STOMPS ON SENIORS on a bright fuchsia poster board when several sharp knocks made her hand holding the marker jerk, leaving a comet tail on a T. She was in the process of repairing the T when Grandma said in a sharp voice, “Open the door. It’s Thelma. She’s bringing over more poster boards and markers.”

Kate swept open the door and stared in shocked surprise. Ben stood looking at her, eyes unsmiling, the shadow of a day-old beard on his chin. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“I suppose.” Kate stepped aside for him to pass.

Ben glanced around the room at the hodgepodge of posters in all shapes and sizes, then catching Rose’s eye, said to her, “Hello, Mrs. Galbraith. I hope I’m not interrupting things, but I want to take Katie away from you for a while, if that’s okay.”

Kate shut the front door with uncharacteristic force. Ben was treating her like a child, which didn’t sit well with her this particular day. “This may come as a surprise to you, Ben, but you don’t need my grandmother’s permission for me to go with you. You might try asking me.”

“Okay. Will you come with me?”

“No. As you can see, we’re busy.”

“Then I’ll put it another way.” He took her by the arm and turned her toward the door. “We have some things to sort out and I don’t intend to put it off any longer.”

Kate jerked her arm from his grasp. “Maybe I don’t want to sort things out with you," she said, "because just maybe, there’s nothing to sort out.”

“And I say there is. So, are you coming with me or do I have to carry you out?”

Kate glared at him. He was so incredibly bossy, so impossibly overbearing. He was also the entire focus of her mind of late. “Fine," she clipped. "I’ll come then.”

Ben nodded goodbye to Rose, then pointed to the word she was lettering and said, “Ma’am, you might want to add another S to my name. You only have one there.”

He was about to pull the front door closed behind him when Rose called after him, “Young man.” He turned and waited. “You may give my regards to your grandfather.”

Ben smiled. “Yes, ma’am. He’ll appreciate that.”

Kate climbed into Ben’s truck, wondering what
things
he was referring to that needed sorting. They had not parted on good terms. In fact, they’d been so annoyed with each other their last time together that she’d all but given up ever hearing from him again, other than to receive a call telling her that he’d either accept or reject her swim fin ideas. It would be impossible to go back to a strict business relationship with him now, so she had no idea how the AirFlo ad campaign would proceed, or how she'd explain to Mr. Boswell why she choose to walk away from it, should she do so. But she didn’t want to think of ads or zoning meetings or anything but the reason Ben had come for her. Once inside the truck, she said, “Where are you taking me?”

Ben started the engine. “To my place.”

Kate folded her arms. “That’s a long drive, Ben, and in case you’ve forgotten, we really don’t have much to talk about, unless you want to talk about ad ideas.”

“Come sit next to me, Katie.”

She looked at him with a start. “Why?”

He glanced over at her. “Do you really need to ask?”

“Yes," Kate said, "I do need to ask, because I don’t know what you want from me.”

“All I want right now is for you to sit next to me.”

Kate looked at his firm profile and wondered why he had this power over her to get his way. She should refuse, simply to assure herself that she was not his puppet. Instead, she found herself saying, “Well, alright then.” She slid across the seat, and he put his arm around her and rested his palm on her hip. “I don’t think this is a very safe way to drive,” she said.

“I’ll worry about that. Just don’t start trying to analyze everything right now.”

It seemed natural for Kate to place her hand on his thigh, and when she did, he kissed her on the forehead. She had no idea how things had come to this, but for now, she didn’t want to question. All she wanted was to feel Ben’s arm around her and her body pressed snugly against his, and know that, for this particular moment in time, he cared.

As they drove, Ben kept one arm around her while negotiating the road with the other, and Kate’s palm remained on his leg. To her surprise, a few miles down the road, he said, “I like your swim fin ideas. We’re going with it. We’ll be hiring models and shooting it in the pool.”

“Then your models better also be good actors to make it work,” Kate said impulsively, then wished she hadn’t. She still didn’t understand Ben’s odd behavior in the pool while swimming with her, and she hadn't intended to turn the discussion about the swim fin promotion around and focus it on them, but the words slipped out, and she couldn’t take them back.

All Ben said was, “We’ll make it work.”

For the rest of the drive Ben seemed in deep thought, and Kate didn’t want to spoil their time together with a barrage of questions, so she leaned heavily against him and said nothing. When they arrived at his house and she stepped through the front door, she was stunned to find the place in total disarray. Dirty dishes filled the sink, the futon was a hodgepodge of bed pillows and throw blankets and with several dirty tee-shirts slung across the back. And on the floor beside the futon were slippers and flip-flops and random heaps of newspapers and magazines, and an open book laying face down. But what caught and held her attention was the line-up of her swim fin illustrations that were propped along the wall opposite the futon. She turned to Ben for an explanation for his unkempt place. He shrugged, and said, “I wasn’t intending to come by for you today.”

She looked at him, perplexed. “Then why did you?”

“Like I said, we need to sort things out.” He gathered up newspapers and magazines and tossed them into a box, scooped up throw blankets, pillows and tee-shirts and went to his bedroom and dumped them in a heap on his bed, then folded up the futon and walked over to the sink and started washing dishes. While he was doing that, Kate stood looking at the illustrations, the memory of their intimate session in the pool so vivid she could almost feel Ben's arm around her, holding her snugly against him. But she still couldn’t shake his odd words along with the cold shiver that ran through her when he’d released her and swam away. Just thinking of it sent a new chill coursing through her. Turning from the illustrations, she sat on the futon and waited for Ben and the reason why he’d brought her there.

On finishing the dishes, he dried his hands and sat at the opposite end of the futon, watching her. She waited for him to speak, and when he offered nothing, she said, “So, what is it you want to sort out?”

Ben rubbed his chin, as if going over in his mind what he was about to say, and replied, “Our relationship."

Kate looked at him, baffled. “What relationship? There has to be a meeting of minds for a relationship to exist. You know all about me. You said I’m as easy to read as a deck of cards face up. But you are a very complex and impenetrable man, Ben. You surround yourself with beauty and you won’t let it touch your soul. You have a warm and caring heart inside you somewhere, but I can’t find it. Your grandfather's right, you do keep the world at arms length.”

He looked at her, eyes guarded, and said, “Yeah, well, I’m working on that.”

“Well, there can be no relationship unless you let me inside that impervious wall you’ve built around yourself, for whatever reason, so I can get to know you. Right now you’ve presented me with so many different Ben Stassens I don’t know which one I could even be comfortable with, much less be involved with in a relationship.”

“Everything you’ve said is true, honey, I just need time to sort it all out. I’m asking you to give me that time.”

Kate looked at a face stripped of pretense and into eyes, open and vulnerable, and for the first time, she felt as if a tiny portal in Ben’s wall had opened to her. She slowly moved to sit beside him, lifted her hand to his cheek, and said. “Thank you for sharing you. I know it didn’t come easy for you to do that. And I will give you that time."

Ben lifted her chin, tilting her face up, and when his lips met hers she glided her hands around his neck and kissed him with all the passion that had been building inside her. His lips caressed her cheek and brushed her eyelids, then moved to nibble her ear. “Umm,” she moaned, savoring the tingles that rippled through her with the feather light strokes of his tongue as it traced the inner recesses of her ear. He kissed her neck and her jaw and returned to her ear...

Kate was totally unprepared for Ben’s impassioned response. She had not expected things to go this far when she’d moved to sit beside him, and she knew it had to stop. This was not what she’d meant when she said she’d give him time. She propped her hands on his chest. “No, Ben, this has to..." but she never finished what she'd intended to say. She couldn't bring herself to tell him to quit breathing in her ear, or touching its rim with his tongue, or kissing her neck. Instead, she moved her hands down his chest, slid them around his sides and up his broad back...

The thunderous sounds of backfiring echoed like shots in the night.

Ben drew in a ragged breath. “Go away, Gramps,” he mumbled. Then, he captured Kate’s head in both his hands, kissed her soundly, and said, “Wait right here, honey. I’ll be back as soon as I can send Gramps on his way. Just don’t move, don’t lose your train of thought, and don’t start analyzing things." He stood, rearranged his clothes, combed his fingers through his hair and strolled outside. While he chatted with his grandfather, Kate watched the men from the window. Henry Stassen was a marvel of a man for his age--back straight, shoulders squared, belly flat. He stood a few inches shorter than Ben, but had probably lost height with age, so the tall gene must run in the family. She could imagine Ben at Henry’s age, still trim and fit, his handsome face carved with character lines, his head sporting an imposing crop of silver hair. Would she still know him then? Could she dare to dream?

Both men looked toward the window and smiled, as if they’d shared an anecdote, perhaps about her. She backed away, not wanting to be caught watching. Realizing they would probably be talking for some time, she took the opportunity to use the bathroom, which was located off Ben’s bedroom. While there, she glanced at her face in the mirror. Maybe it was due to the multi-colored light that made its way through the stained-glass window, but her eyes seemed brighter, her face more flushed, her lips moist and eager. And as Ben requested, she
would
be waiting for him on the futon when he returned.

But when she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes locked on a framed photo on the small table beside Ben’s bed. Every muscle in her body seemed to go slack. In the photo, a pretty, blond-headed woman leaned back against Ben, whose arms encircled her, his cheek against the top of her head, her hands resting on his arms as they smiled into the camera. Kate lifted the frame and stared at the photo. Ben looked several years younger—his hair was cut close, and there were no lines of cynicism on his face. But, it was the face of the woman that held Kate captive. Hers was the face of a woman in love, totally and completely in love with the man holding her. Kate’s fingers felt something bulky behind the frame.

She turned it around and was surprised to see a small gold anklet taped to the back, along with an envelope with a newspaper clipping. Unfolding the clipping, she read:
BRIDE-TO-BE DROWNS: Gayle Marie Barnes drowned after a car driven by her fiance, Benjamen Stassen, in which she was a passenger, plunged into the Willamette River after being struck by a semi-truck. Stassen repeatedly dove into the murky water in an effort to rescue his fianceé and was ultimately overcome by exhaustion and had to be pulled from the water and resuscitated by EMT’s on the scene. The couple was to be married on Sunday.

With trembling hands and a throbbing heart, Kate returned the newspaper article to the envelope and set the picture back on the table. A kaleidoscope of images whirled in her head, images of seeing Ben for the first time, dressed in black leather and towering above an elegantly-dressed crowd, and of him removing his motorcycle helmet and gloves and strolling toward the house, and of him standing tall in his tennis attire and bantering with her, and of him holding her in his arms and kissing her, while sending her his unspoken words of a promise yet to come.

Then everything faded into one image of Ben diving into the dark, murky waters of the Willamette River to save the woman he loved, the woman for whom he was willing to lay down his life. Kate’s heart throbbed with a steady beat, and she felt as if the luster had gone out of her life. Then, like a fading dream, a decision slipped silently into her heart.

***

Ben walked into the room to find Kate standing at the window, her arms clasped around herself, her hands gripping her elbows. If she’d heard him come in she gave no indication, continuing to keep her back to him. He walked up behind her, took her by the shoulders and turned her around, intending to kiss her. But when she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked.