Until November

Chapter 19

Ben

Jocelyn asked me to leave her alone and I am. When she cancelled the spa appointment, my only regret was that I had made the effort sooner. In my hotel room, I'm scrolling through articles about new mothers. It seems what they want most is sleep, and after a cursory look at babysitting websites that offer this service, I close out the screen. She wants space, but how much of an idiot have I been to not realize how desperate she was for my help? For a second pair of hands to hold Noelle while so she could sleep? My stubbornness broke too late. Hers will break too. And I will catch her when it does.

The next couple of days, I turn my attention to Jack and Hannah's house. Going through their personal belongings sucks up my time, but I need to stay on track so I can leave this town behind. That hasn't changed. I work my way through Jack's office closet, boxing up financial records and a few personal items to ship to my house. Everything else, I vow to finish in phases, coming back a little each day to get this job done. Hannah's stuff isn't for me to go through. It brings up hard realities. Jack. My brother. How we used to be. How I'm surrounded by him but can't call him. I can't talk to him. And I need to. Desperately. Jack should be here. It's him I need to talk to.

From the couch in the suite, I remove my shoes and call Hannah's mother. A call that's long overdue. 

"Ben?" Linda answers at once, her voice piqued.

I dive into explaining that I'm going through the house, that Hannah's belongings are here for her to get. "It'll be here," I explain to Linda over the phone. I'm trying not to be alone with Linda and John. Too much room for questions I won't answer. No thank-you. "I just stopped by today to start everything."

"Really? You think I care about Hannah's things? I do, but, we want to see Noelle," Linda's tone carries too loud. "You won't take my calls. I'm worried sick. You sent us two photos since the birth. TWO. That's it. Wait a second. I thought—I thought you were staying at Hannah's. you're not staying at Hannah's house, where are you? Who's watching Noelle? We've seen you on social media. Photos from the athletic center. You're never with her."

"I'm not ready for you to see her." That is the rock bottom truth. "She's in excellent hands."

"I'm her grandmother. She's my daughter's daughter. Please." Linda's pleas aren't lost on me.

"Soon, okay?" It's the best I can do.

"No. That's not good enough. John and I want to see her. Today. Now. What are the plans for her? All we're told is Noelle is to remain in your care, but you won't tell us your plans. How long you'll stay in town. If you even want her. I don't believe my daughter would just give you custodianship. Hannah would never—" Her breath draws in a fast rasp. 

Her anguish isn't lost on me, but I can't get into details about the contracts behind the scenes. "Linda, I promise, she's safe and she's in good hands. I will let you see her, just right now isn't a good time. I'll be in touch."

Pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I stretch out on the couch in my hotel suite, underestimating the power one small child would have in my life. The drink alleviates the regret stacking in my chest. My parents would disown me if they saw how I've turned out in this situation. They loved each other. They rarely fought. I highly doubt divorce was ever mentioned in our household. My father would have taken on every loose faucet and cabinet in Jocelyn's house while I walked around like I couldn't start the dishwasher. When did I get so whiney? A disparaging thought drives straight through me. Hannah knew. Hannah knew this side of you. 

Dude, I wouldn't take you back. Jack's voice sneaks in my ear, my head, my heart. 

Jack. What were we thinking?  I want to talk to him. I want to see his face. I just keep letting him down. What were you thinking? I don't even know how to hold your daughter.