Authors: Cassandra Cole
CHAPTER SEVEN
As so often happens, shortly after her mother’s death, Abraham’s health began to decline, as well. Physically, he was fine, but his mind had started to wander. There were times when he’d struggle to find the words he wanted to say and get disoriented about where he was.
He would forget where he left his keys, though they were always on the hook just inside the kitchen door. He would call Belinda Homira sometimes and refer to Arianna as Belinda. As with her mother, Belinda could read the signs. Abraham was suffering from the early symptoms of Alzheimer’s.
Abraham closed his accounting practice when her mother was diagnosed with ALS so he could spend every minute with his wife. His business had been good for forty years and he managed his money well. They lived modestly, the house was paid for and he had no debt. Belinda had no idea how big his nest egg was, but she hoped it wouldn’t be wiped out by her mother’s medical bills. Abraham didn’t seem concerned and told her not to worry. There was plenty enough money for them to get by.
It turned out that Abraham’s timing was perfect because a real estate developer had purchased the entire block so he could tear down the old buildings and put up new condos.
One day, Belinda got a call on the house phone just as she was taking Ari out of the bath. A deep voice said, “This is Ralph Baird. I’m the construction foreman at the condo project downtown where Abraham Banner’s office used to be.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Baird,” Belinda asked, wrapping Ari in a towel and carrying her to the nursery.
“Well, ma’am, Mr. Banner is down here at the site demanding we let him into his office. That building has been condemned and set for demolition in a few months. We can’t let him go inside. It’s too dangerous.”
“Oh my god,” she said, realizing her worst fears were coming true. “How did you know to call here?”
“He gave me his business card. The office number was disconnected, so I called the after-hours number and you answered.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m on my way!”
Belinda soon arrived with Ari in tow. She found the construction foreman and he led her to Abraham, who sitting on a bench across the street from the building where his old office used to be. He was dressed in one of his ancient suits. His hair was neatly combed and his glasses were perched on his round nose. He was visibly upset, staring at the second floor window of what used to be his office.
“Abraham, are you OK?” Belinda asked. She sat down next to him with Ari in her lap and put an arm around his shoulders. His eyes were red. He had been crying. “Abraham, please tell me what’s wrong?”
He looked into her eyes, then down at his shoes. They were covered in construction dust and grime. “It’s OK,” she said quietly. “Let’s go home and I’ll clean them for you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Just after Arianna’s third birthday, Belinda graduated with honors and a nursing degree. Her grades put her at the top of her class and attracted the attention of several local hospitals and a number of others from around the state. All of them offered her an immediate position, but sadly, she had to turn them all down.
Abraham’s Alzheimer’s had progressed quickly. Though he was still physically healthy, his mind often drifted to other places and led him to do things the old Abraham would never do.
He would wonder away from the house and ask the neighbors if they had anything to eat. Belinda had hidden his car keys, but that didn’t stop him from sitting in the car for hours pretending to drive. Once she found him in the backyard in the middle of the day, sitting naked in the small wading pool she had bought for Arianna. He said he needed a bath and asked if she would wash his back.
So rather than accept a position that could keep her away from the house for up to twelve hours at a time, she put her plans on hold to stay home and take care of Abraham. She didn’t even have to think twice about it. He did the same thing for her mother and would do the same thing for her if the tables were turned.
The hardest part of caring for Abraham, who seemed to slip away a little more each day, was seeing the confusion in Arianna’s eyes. She was three years old now and couldn’t understand why Gampop didn’t know who she was.
She would climb into his lap to show him a toy or sing him a song and Abraham would just stare into space. He asked her once, “Whose little girl are you?”
“I’m yours, Gampop,” she said, so loving and cute. It broke Belinda’s heart when Abraham lowered Ari to the floor and told her to go find her real mom and dad.
The one thing that seemed to help Abraham occupy his time was writing numbers down in a ledger. He had been a brilliant accountant for forty years. His doctors told Belinda to encourage anything that had to do with math that might stimulate his brain.
She went to Office Depot and bought several accounting ledgers. She found Abraham’s favorite pen, the Mont Blanc he’d used for so many years. She set him up at the desk in his bedroom and said, “OK, Mr. Banner, can you balance these accounts for me?”
Abraham blinked at her a few times and opened the first ledger. The pages were blank. He picked up the pen and without a word, began filling every line with numbers.
He would spend hours doing it. There was no rhyme or reason to the numbers: no recognizable addition or subtraction or multiplication or division. Just strings of random numbers neatly written on the page.
The ledger was completely filled by the end of the week. He proudly turned it over to her with the words, “All finished, Mrs. Albright.”
Belinda remembered that Mrs. Albright was his secretary at one time or another. She took another ledger from the desk drawer and handed it to him.
He opened to the first blank page and happily started the entire process over again.
CHAPTER NINE
Belinda’s days were filled with caring for Abraham and Ari, one just as troublesome and needy as the other. It was also up to her to keep the laundry done, the house clean, and meals prepared.
Her friend Kat suggested she hire a cook and a housekeeper to help out, but Belinda wouldn’t hear of it. She had the same reaction when Abraham’s doctor suggested she get a nurse to stop by to help out once in a while.
“Belinda, you have a life, too, you know,” the doctor said. “I remember you from University. You were in one of the classes I taught. You could be a brilliant nurse. Heck, you’d make a wonderful doctor! Why not put your skills to work here at the hospital and let someone less skilled watch Abraham?”
“Because he’s my father,” Belinda replied quietly. It was all she could think of to say.
It was also up to her to manage Abraham’s finances now. When his mind started to go he had his lawyer give her power of attorney over all of his affairs.
She knew exactly how much money Abraham had saved and invested. It was a healthy sum, but it had to last and there was no way she’d spend a nickel on something she could do herself.
She did ask the neighbor, Mrs. Campbell, to sit with Abraham now and then so she could shop and run errands. Abraham rarely left his desk of ledgers, which by now totaled over several dozen, stacked on his desk like skyscrapers. Still, he’d wondered off in the past. Someone had to be there to keep him safe until Belinda came home.
She was returning from the market with Ari strapped into her carseat in the back of Abraham’s car when she first saw the stranger standing at the front door talking to Mrs. Campbell.
He was tall and broad, with shaggy blonde hair and the shadow of a beard on his cheeks and chin. Mrs. Campbell was standing in the door way and the stranger was two steps down on the grass. He looked menacing at first glance, but Mrs. Campbell had raised seven boys. She appeared to be standing her ground.
“What’s going on?” Belinda asked after pulling into the driveway and stepping out of the car. She left Ari in her carseat and used the keyfob to lock the doors. It was a cool day and Belinda had the car windows cracked. Ari would be fine for a few minutes until she could sort this out.
Bonita Campbell was a large woman, more round than tall. She was holding a broom at parade rest and Belinda didn’t doubt that she would use it as a weapon if provoked.
“Can I help you?” Belinda asked warily as she approached.
Mrs. Campbell spoke up first, loudly gesturing with the broom in her hand. “This man is demanding I let him in the house. I told him to get lost, but he doesn’t seem to understand. Do you want me to call 911?”
The man took a step back and held out his hands. His shoulders were hunched. His face was weary. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. At first, Belinda thought he was one of the homeless drug addicts who’d found his way here from downtown.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.” He was tall, a good foot taller than Belinda. His size was intimidating, but his demeanor was not. He nervously glanced into Belinda’s eyes. His eyes locked on hers for a minute, then he blinked as if coming from a trance. He looked away.
Belinda had dealt with druggies and bad boys all her life. Ari’s father was a bad boy and she had no trouble kicking him to the curb and letting him know what’s what.
She’d also interned at a drug treatment center in school, so she figured she had whatever skills would be necessary to get this guy on his way.
She let her eyes go over him for a moment. For a homeless druggie, he was damned good looking. He had shaggy blonde hair that hadn’t been cut in awhile. Locks of it hung over his eyebrows and curled at the collar of his denim jacket.
He had a strong jaw with a scar that ran down the side of his right cheek. His most striking feature was his dark, brooding eyes. Belinda thought they had a story to tell, though she had no idea what that story might be.
His shabby appearance aside, he didn’t really look like a druggie. She could tell he was fit beneath his clothes. His shoulders and biceps filled out the jacket well. He was wearing a black vee-neck tee under the jacket, tucked into a pair of jeans that were several sizes too large around the waist.
He had the waist of the jeans synched with a brown belt that looked like it had notches added to it. She got the impression he once was much thicker than he was now.
Belinda opened the back door of the car and quickly took Arianna out of the seat. She went to the front door and passed her off to Mrs. Campbell.
“I don’t think we need to call the police… yet,” she said, looking deep into the stranger’s eyes. They were somehow strangely familiar. “Just take Ari inside and lock the door while I talk to our guest.”
Mrs. Campbell huffed at him. “Doesn’t look like any guest I’d invite in. Looks more like a convict, if you ask me.”
A little lightbulb went on above Belinda’s head. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Who are you?”
He exhaled and all of the life seemed to go out of him. He said, “My dad used to live here.” He looked at the house with sadness in his eyes. “I’m Ben Banner.”
CHAPTER TEN
“You’re Benjamin? Abraham’s son?” He shook his head at her. Her heart jumped into her throat, though she wasn’t sure if it from fear or excitement. Without thinking, she said, “I thought you were in prison.”
She saw the muscles in his cheeks tense up. He shoved his hands into his pockets and let his shoulders go up and down. “I was in prison,” he said, nodding as he spoke. “I paroled out a couple of days ago and took the bus here yesterday. I slept at a shelter last night. I went by dad’s old office, thinking I’d catch him there, but the place was condemned. So I walked here.”
“That’s a long walk,” she said.
“I like to walk,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been able to do that for a very long time.” He gave the house a pensive look. “Anyway, I used to live here. It was the only address I had, so I gave it to them so they can keep up with me.”
“Keep up with you?” The sadness in his eyes made her want to hug him. He reminded her so much of Abraham, only in a much larger, more weathered package. The term “gentle giant” came to mind. Then she remembered he had been in prison for killing a man with his bare hands.
“My parole officer needs to know where I’m living so he can check on me from time to time,” he said. He avoided her eyes as he spoke, choosing to look up and down the street instead. “You know, to make sure I’m not up to no good.” He looked at the upstairs window that he remembered as his father’s bedroom. “So, is he home?”
Belinda didn’t know what to say. She muttered the words. “Actually, he’s out at the moment, but should be back soon.”
A look of disappointment washed over his face. “Oh, OK, I guess I can come back later.”
“Don’t be silly, come inside,” she said, speaking before thinking. Her curiosity was getting the better of her judgment. There was no way Ben Banner was going to get away without first telling her everything she wanted to know about his past and his relationship to Abraham. Oh crap, she thought, Abraham… Will he even recognize his own son?
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother. Just let me get these groceries out of the car. I was going to make sandwiches for lunch. Would you like one?”
He smiled for the first time and it lit up his face. He was handsome, after all, and she thought she saw a light come on in his eyes. He said, “Only if I can help with the groceries.”
Belinda didn’t know what came over her, but the next thing either of them knew she was wrapping her arms around him as best she could and giving him a squeeze.
She stood on her tip toes to whisper, “Welcome home, Ben.”