The End of All Things Beautiful (8 page)

“Thanks,
Max. You got a name and an address for this place?”

“Yep.
It’s CB Custom Carpentry and Furniture and it’s a rural route, which means it’s
pretty much in the middle of nowhere.” He lists off the address and I quickly
jot it down along with the name of the company. “And Campbell,” Max adds, “I
don’t know what you need this info for, but be careful if you’re heading up
there alone. It’s a long drive and it’s pretty desolate, especially since
tourist season is over.”

“Thanks
for your concern, Max, but I’ll be okay,” I respond knowing I’m going to be
anything but okay when I finally find Benji. “And don’t forget to bill me and
not the company,” I remind him.

“Got
it.”

“Thanks
again, Max. I really appreciate you getting back to me tonight.”

After
I hang up, I stare down at the name and the address, it finally hitting me that
I have a choice to make. Up until my phone rang, I had been torn on what I
should do, but seeing it in front of me, side by side with Tommy’s letter, I
know I’ll be heading up to Hessel, Michigan.

Wherever
the fuck that is.

Although
it’s late, I start packing. If it’s as far as Max said, then I’m going to need
to get an early start and I definitely won’t be back in the same day. I toss a
few pairs of jeans and a couple of sweaters into my suitcase knowing the
weather will be far colder than it is here. And as I open my underwear drawer,
I find myself choosing some of my nicest lingerie because I’m totally going to
strip off my clothes the moment I see him.
What
the fuck am I thinking?

He’s
never going to see me in my underwear and the last thing I need him to know is
that I’m still in love with him. All of this makes this idea to find him seem
completely insane. I’m insane.

But,
despite all my crazy thoughts; the fear, the hurt, the anger and the guilt, all
returning, I’m also met with an overwhelming desire to remember what it feels
like to fall in love with him, to be in love with him.

It’s
been so long since I’ve slept well, but tonight I drift off to sleep almost
instantly.

For
the first time in weeks, I wake up with my alarm, a quiet peaceful feeling as
the music plays softly. I slept straight through the night. No nightmares, no
tossing and turning, no insomnia. And even though I know I have more that lies
ahead in this fucked up mess that has been created, I find a calm in knowing
that Benji is okay.

I
guess the term ‘okay’ is relative because of what we’ve been through, neither
of us could ever be classified as okay compared to normal standards. But in my
eyes, him being alive is as okay as I need right now.

As
I’m dragging my suitcase into the living room, the front door opens and in
steps Carson. His face is completely unreadable and this is definitely
something I wasn’t prepared for.

“Hey,
you going somewhere?” he asks, and I can tell by his tone that he’s not here to
have a casual chat with me.

“Yeah,”
I respond, even though I know he’s going to push for more.

“You
going to give me anymore than that?” he questions, his hands on his hips, as he
shoots me an angry glare.

“No,
probably not,” I retort, knowing this relationship is long over, and it’s all
about to come to a head.

“Campbell,
if you walk out of here without telling me where you’re going we’re done!” he
shouts at me as if I’m a small child being scolded.

“We’ve
been done for a while now, Carson; don’t tell me you’re just noticing that now?”
I ask condescendingly, and I can tell it pisses him off.

Slamming
the door shut behind him, he storms past me and into the bedroom. Following
him, I find him pulling his clothes from the drawers and closet in an angry
rage.

“I
don’t know what the fuck I ever did to you for you to treat me like this,” he
seethes, muttering as he continues grabbing his things from the closet. He
turns and shoots me a dirty look, like everything that has ever gone wrong in
our relationship is my fault. “You’ve been emotionally unavailable from the day
we met. Like a fucking ice queen,” he spits out, and it pisses me off.

While
I know I’ve been all of these things and more, I don’t deserve to have it
thrown back in my face, to have him chastise me for a situation he chose to
stay in.

“Why’d
you stay?” I ask, my tone harsh.

“Beats
the fuck out of me!” he screams as he pushes past me to get a garbage bag from
the kitchen. When he returns, he begins stuffing his clothes in and I roll my
eyes at the whole situation. He’s being overly dramatic.

“You
don’t have to pack all your stuff now,” I tell him. He whips around to look at
me, his eyes wide and his face red. “I’m leaving and you can stay and pack your
things.”

“How
fucking sweet of you,” he hisses. “Now that it’s over, you’ve decided to think
about me for once, you self-absorbed bitch.”

“Okay,
Carson,” I say, raising my voice. “That’s enough. I get it, you’re pissed, but
you’re not going to come into my home and call me a bitch. Get your shit and
leave.”

I’d
be lying if I said his words didn’t hurt. No one likes to be hated by someone
and the fact that I’ve just been confronted by Carson and knowing I’m about to
confront Benji, both people who I left hurt and confused, this day hasn’t
started off really well.

He
laughs and it’s condescending and rude. “See, that’s where this all went wrong.
I moved in with you. This was our house, but it’s always been about you.”

“Fine,
whatever,” I say detaching myself from this conversation. “Just get your stuff
and leave.”

I
watch him haul the garbage bag full of clothes toward the front door, dropping
it, before he heads back into the kitchen for another.

“And
by the way,” he says, his eyes glaring at me. “I didn’t stay with John. I
stayed with Allison, and I fucked her too.”

My
mouth falls open involuntarily and I cover it with my hand as I step away from
him. While I was never in love with Carson, I never expected him to cheat on
me. I’m sure there are people out there who would say I got what I deserved and
maybe that’s true, but it hurts just the same.

He
laughs again and I look away from him not wanting him to see the hurt that is
written all over my face.

“Finally,
you show some emotion, but you’ll always be a heartless bitch.”

“Get
out!” I scream so loudly my throat aches. “Get out now!”

Carson
turns around, leaving the empty garbage bag on the floor; he grabs the other
one by the door and starts to leave.

“Wait,”
I call after him and when he turns around, I swear I see a small amount of
desperation in his eyes, like he hopes I’m going to ask him to stay. He’s
fucked up if he thinks that would ever happen. “Leave your key. I’ll ship the
rest of your stuff to your sister’s.”

“Fuck
you,” he spits out as he throws his key at me.

As
the door slams shut, I stand staring at it shocked and silent. That’s the last
thing I expected to happen and to know he cheated on me is like a punch to the
stomach. This world is full of lies, my life is a lie and everything I’ve
created up until this point is a lie. I stand caught somewhere between reality
and a living nightmare that I need to end.

So
I do what I do best, I shake it off and act like this isn’t happening, that
this isn’t my life and things aren’t falling apart around me. It’s all coming
undone and I know it, but I don’t even know how to fix it.

I
grab Tommy’s letter and shove it into the pocket of my coat before gathering my
things and heading out to my car.

I
guess I’m really going to do this… and I’m terrified.

Just
before the nine-hour mark, I pull into the deserted town of Hessel, Michigan. A
quaint little place, but as I drive through the town, I notice nothing is open;
everything is completely shut down.

“Awesome,”
I mumble, as my suspicions from earlier are confirmed. As I approached the
town, I had the GPS run a search for hotels in the area and the closest it came
up with was about thirty miles from here. I figured it couldn’t possibly be
right, but I was so wrong.

If
you want to disappear, this is the place.

I
look at the GPS as it continues to navigate me to the address where Benji’s
company is located; I find the map, nearly blank. An endless sea of green and
blue and one single road leading out of town. Wonderful, even the GPS has no
idea where I’m going.

But
as I follow the road, which eventually turns to gravel, I see a large sign
stating “CB Custom Carpentry and Furniture next right.” I take the first turn
and there it is; a huge pole barn set back off the road along with a small shop
out in front. I pull in, but find it as deserted as the town. Not a light on,
not that there’s any light out here at all. It’s pitch black and without my
headlights, I wouldn’t be able to see my hand in front of my face.

I
climb out of the car and approach the building, looking through the large glass
window in front, I see no one inside, but the shop is filled with some of the
most beautiful furniture I’ve ever seen.

But
suddenly scared of the dark and the unknown of this little town, I scamper back
to my car wondering just how the hell I’m going to find him. I could drive
another thirty miles, find a hotel, head back here tomorrow and hope he happens
to be working. Not that I have any other options.

Going
back the way I came, my stomach growls and I realize I haven’t eaten anything
but a package of Zingers I picked up at a gas station. I’m starving and this
isn’t the kind of town where a McDonald’s is going to pop up. I swear out loud,
cursing the stupidity of small towns and their lack of all the things I’m used
to.

While
the town is empty, I do find a bar that is open and I pull into the parking
lot. When I walk in the response is exactly what I expected. The five guys who
are sitting at the bar all turn and look at me and then look at each other. The
bartender stops what he’s doing, his eyes immediately gravitating to where I’m
standing.

He’s
much younger than I expected and quite cute, actually. I guess I assumed that
with a small deserted bar in the middle of nowhere came a grumpy old man
working behind it. This whole finding Benji thing possibly just got a little
easier. He flashes me a smile and as if he suddenly realizes he’s forgotten his
manners, he greets me.

“Hey,
can I help you?” he asks, and I give him a weak smile. But then it hits me: if
I’ve learned anything from my job, it’s that flirting with men can get you
whatever you want. And I want to find Benji, preferably tonight.

I
pull out a chair and sit down at the bar giving the bartender a sweet but
totally fake smile.

“Oh
my god,” I trill. “I’ve just spent the last nine hours in my car and I’m
starving.”

“Sorry,
but the kitchen’s closed,” he replies callously.

“Seriously?”
I ask, pouting, and when he looks over at me he begins to soften. I shoot him a
flirty look and ask, “You sure?”

“I’ll
see what I can do,” he says as he gives me a little smile.

A
few minutes later he sets a bowl of chips and salsa down in front of me and
tells me he has some potato skins warming up. Bar food, but I guess I can’t
complain when there’s no other choice.

“Thanks,
I really appreciate it.”

He
gives me a quick nod before asking if I’d like anything to drink and I order a
cider as he walks away to serve the few guys at the end of the bar.

I’m
trying to figure out how to make small talk with this guy when he returns with
my cider and opens the conversation perfectly.

“So
what are you doing here? You know tourist season is over?”

I
giggle a little and nod my head. “Of course I know tourist season is over. I’m
looking for Benjamin Kennedy.” And when I say his name the bartender stops and
looks at me with a cross between curiosity and defensiveness on his face.

“What
are you doing looking for Ben?”

Ben?
Since when has he gone by Ben? I guess I wouldn’t know and I don’t dare
question it. Instead I start another lie, hoping it’s vague enough, yet
accurate enough to pull this off. “I ordered some furniture from him and I’m on
my way up to Ontario and thought I would stop by and thank him in person.” I
shrug my shoulders as I take a drink of my cider.

“Nice
of you,” he says, but gives me nothing else.

“Yeah,
so his store is closed already and I’d really like to thank him today, seeing
as I’m staying a few towns away. I’d have to back-track and everything tomorrow
to get back here.”

He
waits, not responding, and just when I think this isn’t going to work, he says,
“He lives about a mile from his shop. It’s the only house on the road. You can’t
miss it.”

“Thanks,”
I say, putting back what’s left of my cider in three long drinks. Leaving the
chips and salsa, I slip my coat back on with a self-satisfied smile on my face.

“Guess
you don’t want those potato skins then,” he says and it’s not a question, but
when I look back to answer him, he has a smile on his face. I give him a small
wave of my hand as I leave.

It
doesn’t take nearly as long to find his house as it felt like it did when I was
looking for his shop. Being slightly more familiar with the area makes
navigating it easier and the fact that his house is lit up like it has a
spotlight shining on it helps too.

I
pull into his driveway, the gravel scraping noisily under my tires and echoing
within the wide expanse of nothing. It couldn’t be more obvious that I’m here
and probably shouldn’t be.

I
take one last deep breath and pray that this doesn’t go horribly wrong
immediately. Suddenly I’m unsure of everything in my life and I’m debating
backing out of his driveway and acting like I was never here. But I owe it to
Tommy and I couldn’t live with myself if I found out something happened to
Benji.

Getting
out of my car, I stop in front of it and look at his house. It’s absolutely
beautiful. A massive log cabin with a huge wrap around front porch surrounded
by towering pine trees and a star lit sky. Before I have a chance to make my
way to his front door, I see him.

He steps out onto the front porch a shotgun in his hand and I
laugh a little to myself. He looks completely different: his hair is longer,
one side tucked behind his ear; a beard on his face that looks like he’s had it
since I left him, and his clothes are worn, but for some reason he’s still the
boy I fell in love with. He’s taller and more muscular and I’m sure most people
would take one look at him, especially considering he’s holding a gun, and
leave.

I’m not afraid of him, I never have been.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me, Benji?” I ask, as I
approach him.

“Don’t call me that,” he retorts.

I immediately regret my decision to come here. I’m not sure what
I thought would happen; that he would welcome me with open arms and we’d have a
heart-felt reunion. Not a fucking chance after the way things ended.