laughed for about the tenth time in an hour, and it felt amazing. Her life had lurched down a dark, somber road, and it was wonderful to feel some of the clouds lifting from over her head.
No doubt about it—this was the best day she’d had in a long, long time.
* * *
Tuesday morning, Ben stood at the kitchen counter wolfing down a bowl of cereal. He had a packed schedule of jobs today, and he checked the microwave clock to see it was almost seven. Slurping down the last of his milk, he quickly rinsed his dishes and put them in the dishwasher. His coffee wasn’t quite done dripping, but he interrupted the cycle and grabbed the stainless-steel travel mug on his way out the door.
Outside, he jumped in his truck and headed to the other side of town. When he pulled in at his father’s place, it was quiet as a tomb. It was time to be up getting ready for work, so he interpreted the lack of movement as a bad sign. Ben used his key to let himself in, bracing himself for what he knew he’d find.
Sprawled out on the living room sofa, his father was sound asleep, cradling an old wedding picture in his arms. Empty whiskey bottles were toppled on the coffee table, where Ben found a very official-looking gray envelope and duplicate sets of legal papers stapled into covers. A quick glance showed him they were final divorce papers, and a flash of anger shot through him.
Mom had been gone nearly a year now, but he still couldn’t understand how thirty-five years of marriage ended up printed out in triplicate and neatly bound for filing. It was enough to make even the most optimistic soul doubt the possibility of happily ever after.
His stomach turned at the realization that his disconnected family would never be whole again. He could only imagine what yesterday’s mail delivery had done to his brokenhearted father. How could his own wife hurt him this way? Like any family, they had their problems, but Ben couldn’t recall anything truly awful. When had things gotten so bad that his mother had decided her only option was to run away?
He’d asked himself those questions a million times. Since he was no closer to an answer now than before, he focused on what he could do something about. Tucking the papers in their envelope, he shoved them in a nearby drawer to get them out of sight. Then he cleared a spot on the table and sat facing his father.
“Dad?” When he got no response, he repeated it a little louder. There was a shudder, followed by a general ripple of movement. “Dad, it’s Ben. Wake up.”
Squinting against the weak sunlight, he focused bleary eyes on Ben. “Morning.”
It was a start. The lecture he’d been set to give went straight out of his head, and he went with sympathy. “I see you had a bad night. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I—” He seemed to realize he was still holding the picture, and he set it on the table before pulling himself into a sitting position. “I wanted some time alone.”
“With your old friends.” Ben nodded at the collection of empties and was pleased to see his father grimace.
“I bought ’em in Oakbridge and came straight back here. I passed half a dozen bars on my way, but I didn’t stop. I was sober when I was driving, and that’s the truth.”
The vow got Ben’s attention, and he changed tracks. “I believe you, but this has been going on long enough, and I’m thinking maybe it’s time you talk to someone about it. You’re not doing so well on your own.”
He chewed on that for a minute then frowned. “You’re probably right, but shrinks cost money I don’t have.”
“Pastor McHenry is real easy to talk to. You could go see him.” When that got him nowhere, Ben made one more desperate attempt. “You’ve always enjoyed going to church, but you haven’t been there since Christmas Eve. Why don’t we go together on Sunday? I’ll even take you to brunch at the Albatross afterward.”
“I’ll think about it.” Standing, he added, “Meantime, I’ll go get ready for work.”
He was more than a little unsteady, and Ben almost told him to take the day off. The trouble was, he feared that with nothing to occupy his time, Dad would stare at that old picture and drink himself back into oblivion.
So, despite his misgivings, he got to his feet and forced optimism into his tone. “Sounds good. I’ll see you at the lighthouse.”
“Yes, you will.” The fog lifted from his eyes, and he gave Ben the bright, genuine smile he hadn’t seen in far too long. “I haven’t been much of a father lately, but I’m real proud of you, how responsible you are. You know that, don’t you?”
Ben’s heart swelled with pride, and he swallowed around the lump that had unexpectedly appeared in his throat. This was his father, the honest small-town boy who’d married his high school sweetheart and built a business with equal parts sweat and integrity. He’d been stumbling a lot lately, but with some help, Ben believed he could recover. “Yeah, Dad. I know.”
“Good.” Patting Ben’s arm, he shuffled back through the hallway that led to the bathroom.
Taking a few moments to get his emotions back under wraps, Ben dialed the lighthouse’s number. Mavis wasn’t as spry as she used to be, so he waited patiently for her to answer. “If you’re gonna be late, I don’t wanna hear it. I got four buckets overflowing in my sitting room.”
“Just wanted to let you know we’re running a little late this morning. I’ll come out and prep and Dad’ll join up with me later.”
“That don’t sound good.” Suddenly, the gruffness was gone, and in a gentler tone she said, “I saw him yesterday afternoon, and he looked like he got run over by a backhoe. Is he all right?”
Out of respect for his father’s dignity, Ben hesitated. Then again, Mavis had been a close friend of the Thomases for more than forty years. If anyone would understand what was going on, it would be her. “More or less. The divorce papers came from Mom’s lawyer yesterday, and he didn’t take it well.”
“That poor man,” she clucked in sympathy. “Are you sure he should be working?”
“I think it’s the best thing for him. I’ll give him some easy stuff to do to keep him busy, and anything tricky I’ll handle myself. You have my word your ceiling will be good as new when we’re done.”
“Never doubted that. I’ll have the coffee ready when you get here.”
With that, she hung up, and he shut off his phone. He could hear the shower running, so he figured it was okay for him to go. On his way out, he made a detour to take care of whatever had started smelling up the house since he was here last. He grabbed a large bag from under the sink and did a quick circuit of the living room and kitchen, dropping in things that should have been tossed out a while ago.
He was officially behind schedule, but he took a couple of minutes to get the coffeemaker going. Taking out a loaf of bread and the butter, he left them next to the toaster as a not-so-subtle reminder for Dad to have something to eat before leaving. A glance around showed him he hadn’t missed anything, and he left the trash in the outside bin on his way back to his truck. Any psychiatrist worth their salt would probably tell him he was making a huge mistake, cleaning up after a grown man who was perfectly capable of doing it himself.
The problem was, Ben couldn’t
