The Ride

Chapter XIX

I looked at Ben hoping he'd say something else. There was so much I wanted to ask, I needed to understand, but when the engine sounded it's approval for the car to move, I knew my time was up. I grabbed my blue Louis Vuitton bag that Ben got me during our happier times. I didn't need to close the door, he was quick to do so as soon as I was out. He disappeared so fast you'd swear the police were chasing him.

"She has to be something special"  Ben had said.
I guess I wasn't that "something special".

I heard chattering as I reached the door. Putting my head against it I tried to make out the other voice that was conversing with mom. It was definitely a man's voice but I couldn't figure out who's. The only male that comes here was the pastor but his voice was always loud. I gave up and went inside.

He looked so different. Different clothes, complexion and attire.His face was smooth and clean as I knew it but a bit darker. Instead of his short, almost invisible hair, he now had an untidy afro. His brown eyes were no longer bright and sparkly, they were now dark, strained and seemed to tell a lot of unbelievable stories. He was more toned, the black clung to his body as if it was painted on. He resembled one of those big Hollywood actors. Despite all the differences, when he smiled I could see that under that new and improved exterior he was still the same Dan.

"Tammy." My mom noticed me standing by the lounge entrance.

I should be saying something but my mind wasn't functioning and my eyes couldn't break away from his. Why can't I just drop dead now or couldn't the ground open up and swallow me now.

"I'm going to check on the stew." Mom said and walked passed me.

Dan got on his feet but didn't walk anywhere, he just stood there looking at me. My face must be giving away everything. He could always tell how I was feeling by just looking at me, he called me an open book. All the confusion, sadness and disappointment Ben has caused just moments ago must be written all over my life. He's probably thinking it's the effects of his presence, which can't be further from the truth. He's the catalyst of all this mess. I finally cleared my throat and moved to sit on the couch opposite his. He also sat back down.

"Hi" I said at the same time as he asked "how are you?".

"I'm fine, you?" I didn't ask because I really wanted to know, it was just a reflex kinda thing. Right now I couldn't care less how he was.

"I'm okay."
There was silence again.
I got up without a word and walked to my room. It was just too weird and intense sitting across him. It was staring at a hologram.

"Tammy." My mom gently knocked. "Dan is leaving."

"Okay." I know that isn't the reaction she was hoping for.

"Aren't you gonna walk him out?" It was more pleading than asking.
"No."
I heard her shifting from the door and moments later another knock.

"When can I come see you?"
"Don't."
After a couple of seconds  I added.
"I'll come to you when I'm ready."
"I'll leave my number so you can call me."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when I heard the front door opening and closing.

No matter how much I wanted to avoid my mom, I couldn't ignore the hole in my stomach. I can't sleep with a broken heart and an empty stomach. We had rice and beef stew, which was delicious. She was a pro at cooking stew. The highlight was the brown pudding and custard though. That just took me back to my childhood, Sunday lunches to be specific, when my dad was still alive.

We laughed at how my dad used to say: "This is poor people's dessert". Every single Sunday he would say that and she would always pout. No matter how much my dad criticized she still served it the every Sunday. I thought it was to spite him but I  later found out it was the only dessert she could make. Now she can make a hundred different desserts but Brown pudding and vanilla custard is still my favourite. Probably because it was my first and it brings forth so many dear memories.

I went to bed feeling somewhat a bit better, with thoughts of my childhood and how happy we used to be as a family. I sometimes think we'd still be happy if he was still with us. His understanding, tranquility in a storm and optimism are what I miss the most right now. I guess he was just too good for this fucked up world. I share Alan's sentiments, in one of the  Hangover movies, when he said he could think of people who should've died before his dad, people such as his mom. The bitter sweet memories rocked me to sleep. Sleeping was the only thing that brought me peace, but the peacefulness was short lived.

Around 1a.m. I was rudely awakened by a phone call. Surprised and a bit excited I answered.

"Ben?!"
"Tammy sorry to call you so late but I had to."
Disappointment washed over me when I heard a woman's voice instead of Ben.
"Tsholo?" I asked.
"Yes. I didn't know who else to call,  Ben is not uhm good. I thought maybe you'd. . ."
She broke off and I heard her yelling.
"Ben don't!!! And the next sound I heard was something like glass breaking.

"Tsholo, are you still there? Tsholo?!"
I was on sitting up on my bed. I had no idea what was happening but it didn't sound good.

"Tsholo!"
"Tammy did you guys break up? Did you have a fight?" She asked frantically.
"Give me my phone! Why the fuck would you call her!" Ben's anger was so clear through the phone.
"Ben I. . ."
That's all I heard of Tsholo's reply, the call was ended.

I couldn't sleep afterwards. I kept wondering what was going on over there. Why weren't they asleep? What was breaking? Was Ben just throwing rich boy tantrums, breaking things? or could he bothered so much by my big reveal that he couldn't sleep and confided in his sister? I just wanted to know. I tried calling them back but the phone went straight to voicemail.

I was already in the bathroom when my alarm went off. The hot water didn't seem to be revitalizing this morning, even my coffee seemed to lack something. My mood refused to improve. Mom came rushing into the kitchen to make her smoothie but to her surprise the blender was already on.

"Oh" was she managed to say.
I finished off my coffee and watched her drink her smoothie.
"This is really nice, Tammy."
She said it like I didn't make it exactly the way she does. She must be talking about me making it for her not the actual taste. I don't remember the last time we shared such a moment.
"You coming?"
I asked my mom when she put her glass in the sink. She seemed more shocked than pleased by my behaviour. She definitely expected me to be more withdrawn and rude than usual.

They say life is about choices. Sometimes you feel like you don't have a choice but you always have a choice, no matter the circumstances. It's a choosy Tuesday and every Tuesday I choose how I want to feel. Why should this one be any different. Today I choose to focus my attention on anyone and anything but myself. It's difficult not to think about Ben, Dan and this whole nightmare but I have to try. My plan is to always have someone with me, which is why I'm with mom this morning. Surely I can't do something stupid, like walking in front of a moving truck, while someone is watching me.

I'm not afraid to choose between Ben and Dan anymore, I've already chosen. I'm just afraid I've made the wrong choice. The more it dawns on me that I might be the only one in love, the darker and desperate my thoughts get. What terrifies me most is how willing I am to give in to them.

What's the point of living without him.