Hey, Good Looking Page 6

  Ben shook his head to clear his thoughts. Some old memories were too ugly to remember.

  When Ben reached the end of the footpath he stood still, undecided as to which house he should go to. They were one and the same, and yet they weren’t. Ducky’s house was out for obvious reasons, leaving either Dodo’s or Diddy’s as his choices. For some reason he’d always felt closer to Dodo, and her tell-it-like-it-is approach to him, his siblings, and life. On the other hand, Diddy’s hugs were so motherly that, as a child, he literally used to swoon with feeling when she gathered him close. Ducky was the one who was a woman of the new century. He liked her free spirit, her roguish wink, her laughter, and her generous spirit.

  He turned to walk across the lawn. Dodo’s house.

  The moment he plopped his garment bag and suitcase on the back porch, Diddy shouted from her own porch. “Ben, come for breakfast!”

  Ben didn’t need to be asked twice or coaxed. As he leaped over the banister and sprinted across the lawn, he realized he was starved. The last time he’d eaten was the previous morning, and all he’d had then was a bagel and coffee. He blew into Diddy’s kitchen like a fresh gust of wind. Willie ran to him and pawed him happily as he barked and pranced around. This was, after all, the guy who’d saved him from the pound. Ben threw back his head and laughed. “Easy, boy, easy!” He spent a few minutes tussling with the dog while Dodo set a place at the table.

  Diddy turned the heat on under the griddle. “Wash your hands,” she said briskly.

  “Yes, ma’am. Cleanliness and godliness.” He grinned, showing he remembered the childhood ritual.

  “Where’s Mary?” Darby queried from her seat at the table.

  Ben drew a deep breath and turned to look at Darby.

  She was wearing a sleeveless lavender blouse with matching shorts, the same color as the begonias that lined the front of Diddy’s house. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked sad and woebegone.

  What to say? How to say it?Just say it, Ben, he told himself. “She’s on her way back to New York.” Maybe it was the curt words or maybe it was the look on Ben’s face that left the four women speechless. Whatever it was, they all busied themselves folding their napkins, slipping Willie tidbits, or, in Ducky’s case, putting on her slippers. The awkward moment passed when Diddy slid a half dozen luscious pancakes onto his plate. He wolfed them down within minutes. As soon as he finished the last bite, Diddy slid six more pancakes onto his plate, along with a stack of crisp bacon. Willie was immediately at his side, begging for his share.

  Darby tried not to stare at the handsome man sitting across from her. Russ’s brother. Almost a stranger but not quite. She thought about her childhood crush so many years ago. How many times she’d dreamed of him in her teenage years. For some reason she felt nervous and jittery being so close to him.

  Ben sighed and shoved his plate to the center of the table. He gulped the last of his coffee before slipping the remainder of the bacon to Willie. “That was so good, Diddy. I can’t remember the last time I had food this great. It’s a super way to start the day. Thank you.”

  Darby stood up to carry her plate to the dishwasher. “If it’s okay, I’m going to go to the cemetery.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Ben volunteered.

  “Darby, use the new wheelbarrow I bought. It’s battery-operated. You can push it with your pinkie,” Diddy said. “It’s under the back porch steps. Be sure to take some peat moss and manure. It’s all in the garage. You better take a few jugs of water as well.”

  “Okay,” Darby said agreeably. Ben held the screen door. Darby rushed through, savoring the scent of his aftershave.

  It took Ben only ten minutes to load the flowers, peat moss, and manure into the back of the gardener’s pickup truck. He dusted off his hands as he held the passenger-side door for Darby. He hopped into the driver’s side, slid the truck into gear, and barreled out of the alley. “Buckle up,” he called out.

  “Okay,Dad.” Darby smiled.

  If there was one thing he didn’t want to be, it was Darby’s dad. He struggled for something light to say, something to take away the somber mood of his companion.

  “Tell me about your business. Russ just hit the highlights. He did say he designed your Web page. He was always good at stuff like that.”Brilliant conversation, Ben.

  Darby shrugged her lavender shoulders. “I didn’t want to teach, so I sort of floundered after college. Unlike Russ, who always knew he wanted to teach kids. It just happened. Ducky lets me stay in her house. I moved my stuff in, and part of that ‘stuff’ was my collection of dollhouses that had come to me from my grandfather. I have five of them, one for each house on the shoe. Once I tried to give Mary the two that represented the Gunn houses, but she just looked at me and said she didn’t want my charity. At the time, I didn’t understand what she meant. I don’t think she ever liked me. Anyway, one day the housekeeper was cleaning my room and accidentally knocked one of the houses over. It was one of the old ones and it kind of collapsed on itself. I was so heartbroken, I tried to fix it. It ended up looking better than ever. I painted it, and it was as good as new. Voilà! A business was born. Russ helped with the business end of things. He made sure I got off to a good start. The aunts were there every step of the way. Now I have more business than I can handle.”

  Ben scratched at his head. “And you earn a living doing this?”

  A sound Ben assumed was laughter escaped from Darby’s lips. “Six figures a year. No overhead, no employees. I charge a lot. I was in Scotland to sell one of the houses when…when Russ died. I had a call from this viscount who said his daughter was a semi-invalid, and he wanted to order a custom dollhouse. It was a fifty-thousand-dollar order, that’s why I went. He paid for my travel and accommodations.”

  Ben scratched his head again. “Fifty thousand dollars for a toy! I’m in the wrong business. Do you need a partner?” he joked.

  Darby turned to stare at Ben. “No, not really. I don’t want to flood the market. That’s why I never hired anyone. Thanks for the offer, though. Hey, slow down, there’s the entrance to the cemetery. I don’t like this place.”

  “Guess what. I don’t like it either. Mary told me she left a standing order with a florist to deliver flowers every week.”

  Darby hopped out of the truck. “It was a good idea to bring that wheelbarrow. It’s a long walk to…to where…Russ is buried.”

  Ben dropped the tailgate. The sound was so loud in the quiet cemetery, Darby jumped. She took a deep breath and helped load the begonias into the wheelbarrow. The gardening tools followed the flowers; the bale of peat moss and the bag of manure stayed in the truck. “I’ll come back for the rest. You can get started while I do that.”

  Darby started off, following the brick path. “I like it that the grave is under one of those big trees. The sun here is so brutal.” She turned to look up at him. “Do you think there are special things you’re supposed to say in a place like this? Or are you just supposed tothink ?”

  “I think it’s one of those whatever-feels-right things,” Ben said, and Darby nodded.

  “Oh, look, the caretaker or someone put up the stone. It’s so…so plain.” Darby dropped to her knees. “It just has his name and birthday on it and that one little angel.” Darby looked around, pointing to other gravestones. “Look at those. They have big angels and cherubs. Russ deserves better than this.”

  Ben stepped closer to take her shoulders in his hands. A jolt of electricity rushed through him. “We can always get a bigger stone. Somehow I think Russ would have liked this simple one.”

  Darby nodded, her shoulders shaking. Ben was right.

  Ben whirled around, the wheelbarrow moving on its own.Brilliant move, Ben, real brilliant.

  Ben was back within minutes. He opened the bag of peat moss with a small knife on his key chain. They worked in sync and were done in thirty minutes. No one was more relieved than he was. He watched as Darby tidied the gravesite, picking up brok
en leaves and a few stray petals from the blooms. Suddenly, he wanted to bawl his eyes out. Whatever expression was on his face, Darby reacted.

  “I want to say something comforting to you, but I don’t know the words. I suppose I should say it will be all right, but it won’t be all right. I failed him. How do you think I’m going to live with that for the rest of my life. He trusted me. He made me the executrix of his will, and I wasn’t even here to see that his last wishes were honored. I have to do something. This”—Darby pointed to the flowers—“was a start. Maybe someone else could leave it at that, but not me.”

  “You must have loved him very much?”

  Darby’s head jerked upright. “I did…do…love Russ but not the way your tone is implying. No one, even the aunts, ever understood Russ’s and my relationship. He was my best friend, the brother I never had. There was nothing romantic between us. He trusted me. I trusted him. It was a special, extraordinary relationship that goes back to childhood. He had this wonderful girlfriend named Claire. He showed me the engagement ring he bought her. He was going to give it to her at Christmas.

  “We should go to Russ’s apartment and get that ring. I think we should give it to Claire. What do you think, Ben?”

  She wasn’t in love with Russ. There was no ring on her finger.“Yeah, yeah, let’s do that.” Suddenly he felt better than he’d felt since learning of Russ’s accident. “And after we get the ring, I think we should go see Mr. Bodene.”

  “You didn’t say how long you’re staying.”

  “As long as it takes. I took a leave of absence. Okay, let’s go see attorney Bodene.”

  “Okay.”

  Darby turned to look at Russ’s grave. “I know what you said. I…it’s a place to come to. Everyone needs a place to go to unburden. His name is on this little space. That makes it his. Maybe…maybe I’ll bring something from his apartment and…and bury it here to make it…you know, even moreofficial. What do you think, Ben?”

  What do I think?Darby was asking his advice. Ben’s chest puffed out. “I think it’s doable.” He held the door for her, aware of her long, tanned legs. He noted the bright red polish on her toenails. He thought that made her adventuresome.

  “If Russ was about to get engaged, what would that have done to your relationship?” Ben asked curiously.

  “Claire’s one of my best friends. In fact, I introduced her to Russ. It was love at first sight for both of them. Claire understood my and Russ’s relationship. You look like you find that hard to understand, Ben. Don’t you have any close female friends?” She smiled, and his heart melted.

  Ben’s thoughts raced back to Mustang Island and Mandy Prentice, the young woman he’d dated off and on for the past two years. If he never saw Mandy again, it wouldn’t break his heart. He would, however, miss her friendship. “I suppose so,” he answered vaguely. “How did Russ feel when you dated other guys?” He wondered if Darby would see through his transparent question.

  “He was forever trying to fix me up with some of his teacher friends. We double-dated a lot. If that’s your way of asking me if I’m engaged or seeing anyone on a steady basis, the answer is no.”

  Yesssss.

  They were almost to the shoe when Darby turned in her seat and asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue all morning. “Ben, I’d like to go see your father after we go to see the attorney. Do you think he’ll see me?”

  “Probably not. We can try. Bella…”

  “What about his doctor? Can’t we get him to intercede? Or someone from the Gunn Foundation.”

  “Again, Bella…”

  Darby’s shoulders stiffened. “You have a right to see your father, Ben. I’ll go with you; there’s strength in numbers.”

  Yesterday he had been willing to wash his father and Bella out of his life the way Mary had. Today, it was a different story. All because the woman who had plagued his dreams for years and years had asked. “Okay, but be prepared to be disappointed.”

  Darby merely nodded. The rest of the drive back to the shoe was made in comfortable silence. Ben unloaded the wheelbarrow for Darby to return to its resting place and parked the truck inside the garage.

  “I just want to wash up a little and change my clothes. Ten minutes tops, okay?”

  If she’d asked him to wait for ten hours, his reply would have been the same. “Sure.”

  Ben settled himself on a decorative iron bench inside the gazebo. He wasn’t at all surprised to see a crystal pitcher full of sweet tea and two glasses full of ice cubes on a silver tray. Linen napkins and colorful coasters sat on the glass-topped table. The aunts must have heard the old clunker coming down the alley. He poured a full glass and downed it in two long gulps. He filled it a second time.

  When they were children there was always either juice or tea along with cookies in the gazebo. One minute they would be shinnying up trees, running around like wild Indians, then magically, one or the other would spot the treats. Play would always cease until they finished every drop and crumb. Fortified, they would go back to whatever they had been doing.

  Ben closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping. It wasn’t his grown brother’s face that surfaced behind his closed lids but rather the face of a crying four-year-old Russell who was running toward him, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pointed to his knee and the blood running down his leg. “Can you fix it, Ben? Huh, please. Don’t tell Aunt Diddy. She might make me go home. Can you fix it, Ben? I won’t cry,” the pudgy little boy had said, wiping his eyes on his shirt-sleeve.

  He remembered exactly what he’d done. He’d picked up Russ and run across the yard to Diddy’s house, where Diddy clucked her tongue and did what mothers have done since the beginning of time—administered tender, loving care.

  Sporting a neat white bandage, Russ had allowed himself to be hugged and kissed by Diddy. Then she’d handed out strawberry Popsicles, and said, “Scoot!” And off they went, Ben with Russ on his shoulders.

  It was one of his fondest memories of his brother. He brushed at his wet eyes in time to see Darby staring at him. She was dressed in a simple yellow dress with thin straps and matching sandals. A straw bag of some sort hung over her shoulder. She had on lipstick. “Want some tea?” Darby nodded.

  “I was sitting here thinking about when we were kids. Do you remember that time Russ fell and cut his knee? Diddy doctored him up, then gave us all strawberry Popsicles.”

  “I remember. I remember everything, Ben. I’m trying really hard not to think about all that right now. It’s simply too painful.”

  “Where’s Willie?”

  Darby laughed. “He’s exercising with Dodo. She’s teaching him to walk on the treadmill. He used to run with Russ in the morning. He had his own water bottle, too. I’ll take him for a long walk when we get back. Don’t let me forget to look for his baby.”

  Ben bounded to his feet. “I can do that. I have a phenomenal memory.”

  “Are you going to pack up Russ’s things?” Darby asked, with a catch in her voice. Ben stared off in the distance. He wished he could stay there in the gazebo forever. Barring that, he wished he could turn back the clock to his childhood years. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen either.

  “Later this week. I’m going to have to work up to that. Would you help me?”

  Darby considered the question. No, she did not want to pack up Russ’s things. She didn’t even want to go to his town house at all. But, this wasn’t about her and what she wanted. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

  The minute the young couple left the backyard, Diddy was in the gazebo. She waved to Dodo and Willie, who were standing on the back porch. Dodo’s thumb shot into the air. Diddy smiled as she followed the path to her back steps.

  5

  Ben led Darby back to the car, parked in what used to be Russ’s spot at the condo. Retrieving Claire’s ring and Willie’s baby, and seeing the home Russ would never return to, had been harder than Ben had imagined possible. Ben asked, “Where do you want
to go first? Bodene’s office or visit my father?”

  Darby buckled her seat belt. “It’s not a question of wanting, Ben. I need to talk to your father and Bella. I want answers. Maybe instead of going to your father’s house, we should go to the foundation offices to see Mr. Bodene first. Russ’s will is there, on file with the attorneys. As the executrix of Russ’s will I have a legal right to ask questions. They are bound by law to answer my questions. I can always go back to the attorney who drew up Russ’s will. What do you think, Ben?”

  She wanted his advice. Her eyes were so imploring. “I think we should go to the foundation first. If we don’t like what they tell us, then we’ll take it from there.”

  Darby fiddled with the strap of her seat belt. “It’s a given that we’re not going to like what they say, but if you’re game, so am I. Are you sure you don’t mind doing all this, Ben?”

  “Russ was my brother. I want answers myself, so he can rest in peace.”

  Darby reared back, her face draining of all color. Her voice was hard and cold when she snapped, “That’s just the point! He’s not resting in peace. It could be fifty years, maybe more, before Russ can rest in peace. He’sscattered all over the damn place. There’s no closure there. God, this is so morbid.” She knew she was going to cry again out of pure frustration. She knuckled her eyes. Ben pretended not to notice.

  “Point taken,” Ben said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. Are we going to need an appointment?”

  “We better not,” Ben said grimly as he steered the rental car out of the complex and onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later, he parked the car at the far end of the parking lot of the Gunn Foundation.

  The Gunn Building, which housed all their shipping offices as well as the foundation, stood near the river. An old brick structure, it towered over the lower, flat-roofed buildings that surrounded it. Over the years it had received several face-lifts, the brick newer-looking, the windows replaced, the inside gutted, floor by floor.