Saving Ben (17 page)

And I wasn’t the only one suffering.

I was waiting impatiently at the bottom of the stairs for Ben when he came rushing down. “Here,” he said, handing me his wadded-up bowtie. “Can you help me with this?”

I glanced down at the tie in my hand and back up at him. “Seriously? Like I know how to tie a bowtie?” I teased.

“Goddamn it, Kitty, can’t you at least try?”

“Not if you’re going to talk to me like that.” I balled up the tie and tossed it at him as I turned to walk away.

He grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry. It’s been a bad day for me.” Ben’s face was full of pain and his eyes brimmed with tears.

“You’re not the only one who misses her, Ben.” I stooped down and picked up the tie. “You think it’s bad for us. Imagine how George feels.” As I was turning up his collar, I caught a whiff of the scotch on his breath. “Have you been drinking already?”

“So what if I have.” He smacked my hand away from his neck. “Forget the tie. Let’s just go.”

A nagging little voice, the one I knew I should listen to but hardly ever did, warned me that this was not a good omen. I wanted to barricade myself in my room and pretend it was any day other than the Fourth of July; but as much as Ben needed a chauffeur, he also needed someone to keep him from embarrassing himself.

The Rolands live several miles out River Road where stately homes are sited high above the James River. Archer’s parents were using the holiday to throw a belated graduation party for their oldest daughter, Lizzie, who’d graduated from Chapel Hill in May. Not that the Rolands ever needed a reason to celebrate. Their parties were famous, and this one, with a band and professional fireworks display, promised to deliver.

“Time to put on our happy faces and pretend we’re having a good time,” I said to Ben as we drove up the winding driveway.

“Take a drink, Kitty,” he said, his first words to me since we got in the car. “It’ll help your mood.”

“Right. And who will drive us home if I do?” I got out of the car and walked around to his side, opening the door for him.

He pulled me in for a quick hug. “I can always get a ride home if you want to spend the night with Archer,” he said in a soft tone.

“This is not a getting-drunk kind of party, Ben. I have no intention of making a fool of myself in front of Archer’s parents. And I hope you won’t either. I will drive us home, when we’re both ready to go. Deal?” I asked, and we shook on it.

Ben and I made our way around to the back of the house where we were immediately swallowed up and separated by the crowd. Under an enormous tent to my right, the Voltage Brothers were already on stage, blasting R & B tunes across the group of dancers on the floor in front of them and out across the lawn. When I caught a glimpse of Archer to my left, I followed the tiki torches through the terrace toward the pool.

“Geez, Archer,” I said, hugging her, “this party is like a wedding reception on steroids. What’re your parents gonna do for an encore when Lizzie gets married?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? Horse-drawn carriages or a flotilla of boats cruising down the river? But whatever the theme, you’ve gotta wear that dress. It looks killer on you.”

My dress was not the wedding kind of dress, but it was perfect for the Fourth of July with its varying shades of blue and white. Archer’s was prettier and dressier, strapless and hot pink, a stark but attractive contrast to her strawberry-blonde hair.

“You look pretty hot yourself, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

“What’re you talking about?” She spun around, searching the crowd.

“Duh.” I nodded my head toward Spotty, who was standing across the pool pretending to talk to her father but his eyes were glued on her. “What gives? What have you not been telling me?”

“Well . . . we
have
been seeing a lot of each other lately—you know like hanging out and stuff.” Her green eyes grew wide like cat’s eye marbles. She leaned in and whispered to me, “There’s a super cute guy headed our way. I want to introduce you to him.” Before I could object, she stepped out in front of the guy to block his path. “Thompson, I want you to meet my friend Katherine.”

He turned toward me and held out his hand. His brown hair was golden from the sun and his eyes were deep-ocean blue. “Kath-er-ine,” he said, pronouncing my name in the exaggerated syllables of a lazy Southern accent. “My favorite aunt is Katherine.”

I stuck my hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you . . . uh . . . What did you say your first name is?”

He chuckled. “Thompson
is
my first name. I’m Thompson McCray.” He squeezed my hand again and then released it.

“Katherine is in nursing school at UVA,” Archer said to him, and then turned to me. “And Thompson is starting medical school there in the fall.”

“Really? Then why are you moving to Charlottesville in July?” I asked, shocked at my own rudeness. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so blunt.”

“No worries.” His lips spread into a smile that produced the most adorable dimple on the left side of his mouth. “I graduated from UNC in May, which is obviously how I know Lizzie, but I stayed behind in Chapel Hill to wrap up a research project. There’s not much point in going home to Atlanta for only a couple of months. I need to find an apartment. Then I guess I’ll get a job until school starts.”

Spotty appeared behind Archer and whispered in her ear in a manner that left little doubt in my mind something was going on between them. Without even a glance in our direction, the two of them headed off toward the band tent.

I felt awkward being alone with this cute stranger. “Have you ever heard this band before?”

He nodded. “Several times in fact. Would you like to dance?” When I hesitated, he asked, “Are you here with somebody?”

I coughed to clear my throat. “No, but—”

“Then what are we waiting for?” He grabbed my arm, leading me through the crowd and onto the dance floor. He smiled that naughty-boy smile I was growing fond of. “Since I don’t know anyone here, it’s your duty to entertain me,” he shouted above the music.

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” I yelled in response. “Half of Lizzie’s sorority is out here on the dance floor with us.”

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “That may be so, but what are parties for if not for making new friends?” He blew on my neck, a puff of warm breath that sent shivers to parts of my body I didn’t know existed.

We danced until the band took a break and the firework’s display began. “Are you ready for a drink?” he asked as we pushed our way to the edge of the crowd for better firework viewing.

“Yes, please. A bottled water.”

“Water?” he asked, surprised. “Are you sure you don’t want something a little stronger? Maybe a beer?”

I nodded. “I’m the designated driver. My brother is the one on the other side of the terrace holding up the tree.” I pointed through the crowd at Ben. Thompson and I watched Ben grab a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and down it in one gulp.

“Looks as though you may be on borrowed time,” Thompson said, winking at me.

I managed a weak smile. I wanted to lock Ben in the Rolands’ laundry closet in their basement, away from the bar, until I was ready to go home. Leave it to me to meet the most amazing guy on the same night I had to babysit my drunk brother.

The Rolands had spared no expense in providing a brilliant fireworks show, one vibrant explosion of color after another above the cries of delight from the crowd below. Afterward, when Spotty and Archer were nowhere to be found, Thompson led me to a quiet table on the other side of the pool where we talked for a long time, a little about his family—his sisters and the mother he clearly adored—but mostly about medicine. I had no doubt his gentle manner would assure him success as a doctor. “Pediatrics,” he told me, and I wasn’t surprised. I’d been around enough ER doctors to know he was perfect for the job.

When something caught Thompson’s attention behind me, I followed his gaze. Ben was drunk. He stumbled from one group of people to the next on the lawn over by the band, making a complete nuisance of himself.

Thompson ran his finger lightly down my cheek. “It kills me to say this, but I think you need to get your passenger home. Come on.” He stood and pulled me to my feet. “I’ll help you get him to the car.”

“Come on, Ben. It’s time to go home.” I tried to take him by the arm but he snatched it away from me.

“Go ahead, then,” he said, searching the crowd. “I’ll get a ride with Spotty.”

“Spotty is spending the night out here,” I lied.

“Then I’ll get a ride with someone else.” He turned his back on me and started to walk away.

“You’re not going to let your sister drive home by herself, now are you?” Thompson said to my brother’s retreating back.

Ben spun around, and, noticing Thompson for the first time, he stumbled back toward us. “And just who the hell are you?”

“Ben, meet Thompson McCray,” I said. “He’s a friend of Lizzie’s from Chapel Hill. He came up for the party.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on Thompson’s face. “Forget it, dude.” He shoved Thompson out of the way and began dragging me toward the car. “No way you’re gonna use
my
sister as your one-night slam piece,” he called over his shoulder.

Thompson followed at a safe distance so as not to draw Ben’s attention. Once Ben was situated in the passenger seat, Thompson led me around to my side of the car. “Katherine, we’ve only just met—and this is really none of my business—but please know, I mean this in the most concerned way. I’ve witnessed a lot during the past four years of being in a fraternity. I think your brother is
on
something, something more than just alcohol.”

Tears filled my eyes and I looked away.

He lifted my chin toward him. “This isn’t news to you, is it?”

As much as I liked this guy, I wasn’t ready to betray my brother to a virtual stranger. “I’ve gotta get him home,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?”

“No, but thanks. I’m staying here tonight. Will you at least text me so I’ll know you made it home safely?”

Nodding, I handed him my phone so he could enter his number. He kissed me then, gently brushing his lips against mine. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, to press his body to mine and bury his handsome face in my neck. I was imagining a night alone with Thompson, locked away in my bedroom at home, when Ben blew the horn and put an end to my fantasy.

“You didn’t have to embarrass me by dragging me out of there like that,” Ben said as soon as we were heading down the driveway.

“Embarrass you, hell. You should be thanking me for saving you from yourself. I only hope Archer’s parents didn’t see you stumbling around.”

“You are such a bitch.” He untied his tie, and sticking his finger between his collar and his neck, he yanked the top button off his shirt. He thought it was the funniest thing ever when the button ricocheted off the front windshield and pinged the side of my head.

We didn’t speak again until we were in our driveway and I was texting Thompson to let him know I’d made it home safely. Ben snatched my phone away and tried to focus his eyes on the screen. “Who’re you talking to, your new lover boy? That guy makes me sick.”

“You don’t even know him.” Grabbing my phone back and throwing it into my bag, I stormed from the car and rushed up the stairs.

Ben was right behind me, and then on top of me, breathing down my neck as I unlocked the door. “I know plenty of guys like that douche, so slick with their preppy Southern manners.”

“Just mind your own business,” I shouted at him when we were inside.

“Like you mind yours?” He shoved me and I stumbled backward, catching myself on the arm of the settee. “You have been in my shit since I started dating Emma, and I’m sick of it.”

“Grow a backbone, Ben. Why are you letting that psycho-bitch control you all the way from Texas?”

Like a lion assaulting his prey, Ben came after me and pushed me against the wall. I was no match for his incredible strength. He pinned my shoulder to the wall with his left hand and clutched my throat with his right. He lifted me higher and higher against the wall until my feet left the ground. He was in my face, his breath a sour mixture of alcohol and vomit. His bloodshot eyes were full of rage, and I could see traces of a white substance around both nostrils. He squeezed harder, cutting off all the air to my windpipe. I was so terrified, I lost control of my bladder—which was probably what saved my life. Hearing my tinkle hit the hardwood floor brought Ben out of his frenzy and back to reality.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Kitty.” He relaxed his grip and eased me down to the floor, but instead of letting me go, he pressed his body against mine so I couldn’t move. We stared at each other with tears streaming down our faces.

So this is what it feels like to hit rock bottom.

When I felt his body go limp, I pushed Ben off me with all my might and bolted for the stairs. He dove after me, trying to tackle me, but he missed and landed on the bottom step. I locked my bedroom door and shoved my desk chair underneath the knob. I raked everything off the top of my dresser and slid it in front of the door, adding a club chair and a blanket chest for good measure. I searched the room for my handbag, but when I couldn’t find it, I realized I’d probably dropped it downstairs during the shuffle. With no cell phone to call for help, I opened the window and stared at the row of holly bushes below. There was no escape. No porch roof to break my fall or tree branch to climb out on. I thought about screaming my head off for help—the Coopers lived next door, but then I remembered they were visiting their daughter and her new baby girl in California. The only signs of life in the dark night, a dog barking several streets over and the sound of firecrackers popping in the distance, did little to diminish my fear.

After changing out of my wet clothes and into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, I crawled way back in my closet, using my old prom dresses to shield me from view. The house was so quiet I could hear the second hand on my watch ticking, but then the sound of shattering glass pierced the silence.

I heard Ben’s footsteps, pounding up the stairs and down the hall toward my room. “Come on, Kitty, let me in,” he said, banging on my door. “Please . . . I just want to talk to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

When I didn’t respond, he moved down the hall, opening and closing doors. I shut my eyes and counted until I reached a hundred. I was beginning to relax a little when he was at my door again, this time tapping lightly.

“You don’t understand. I’ve had such a bad day. I lost my job, and I had this great big fight with Emma.”

As if any excuse was reason to scare me to the point of peeing in my pants.

When his voice finally tapered off, I yanked an old terrycloth robe from a hanger and balled it up, using it as a pillow. I closed my eyes, but I didn’t sleep. Not for hours. Not until I saw daylight peeking underneath the door.

I must have dozed then, because the next sound I heard was Blessy’s voice in the hall. “Are you the one that broke your mama’s vase? Because if you are, you’re gonna be in big trouble when she gets home. Where’s your sister? And why are you sleeping out here instead of in your bed?” I couldn’t make out the mumbling that followed, but then Blessy tapped on my door. “Come on now, baby, open up so we can get to the bottom of whatever’s the matter.”