Part 28 (1/2)
”Yeah. It does. Like one of those bed and breakfasts.”
”Definitely.”
We look at our menus, and I realize things have become awkward. Maybe it's because I didn't want to talk about me, but I was being honest. He wants to make things better for me. He wants me to just be grateful. Just like my sisters. But I'm not grateful. All I ever wanted to do was dance for an audience. And once I'd fulfilled that, I wanted to teach dance. Now I can't do either. Especially after proving it to myself last night. So I'm going to sulk. Might not be mature of me, but it is what it is. I'll learn to be content on the farm, but I don't want anyone to try and convince me that my life can still be fulfilling. If I can't dance, it won't be.
The waitress takes our order, and now we're sitting there staring at our beverages. I have to cut through the tension. ”So...you'll be going to Florida next month. You excited?”
”Well...I'm not excited, but I am looking forward to it.”
”Did you have practice this morning?”
”Yeah. Coach finally let me run bases.” He smiles.
”Good. How'd that feel?”
”Invigorating.” After he says this, his smile drops.
”Something wrong?”
”No, no. It felt good to let loose again.”
”Knee's good?”
He shrugs. ”Pretty much, yeah. What'd you do today?”
I show him my nails. ”Patti insisted we all go for a manicure.”
”Peach. They look pretty. Did you all go?”
”Yup. Terri too. To make peace.”
”Good. Sisters shouldn't fight.”
I crack up. ”That's all sisters do. But...we also make up. You have siblings?”
”One sister, one brother. Both older.”
”Oh. Nice. What are their names?”
”Maria and Dominic.”
”Nice Italian names.”
”Johnny wants to die,” he blurts, his face sullen again.
”Oh my G.o.d.”
”He wanted to ask me to put a pillow over his face.”
”Oh my G.o.d.”
”If I wasn't so nice a guy, he said.”
I just stare at Ben in disbelief.
”Of course, I can't. I wouldn't do that, but...you think it's that bad that death would be better?”
”I don't know, Ben. There was a time I wanted to die. Sometimes...still...I...entertain the idea.”
”Oh my G.o.d, Rose,” he says loudly. ”No. You are perfectly healthy and...”
”Ben. Johnny...let's talk about Johnny.”
Ben drops his head in his hand and doesn't look at me.
”Ben. Look at me.”
He does.
”I don't know what to say about Johnny. I don't even know what to tell you to do.”
”Yeah.”
Fortunately, the waitress brings our food and we don't have to talk for a bit. I eat my omelet in contemplation of what to talk about to change the mood between us. But then he reaches for my hand. ”Don't consider this our first date, Rose. We can do much better.”
”It's not so bad.”
”It is. And not because of you. Please know that. I just...I can't stop thinking about Johnny. I can't imagine being so depressed.”
”Did you know him before rehab?”
”No. But I liked him right away. He's funny. Joked all the time.”
”Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asks, picking up our plates. ”Dessert? Coffee?”
”Rose?”
”I'll have a cup of tea, please.”
”I'll have...coffee's good. Long drive home,” he says to me. ”Rose. What are you doing tomorrow? Can I come up?”
”Really?”
”I promise. I'll be happier.”
”I don't mind if you're sad. I wish you weren't, but...” I trail off, nowhere really to go with that.
”Does that drive-in show movies during the day?”
”Well...no...not dark enough.”