The Five Stages of Falling in Love (14 page)

“I don’t think you’re a recluse,” he told me with his concentration fixed on the bottle of wine. “I think you’re busy. And I think I have better taste in wine.”

“Both of those things are true,” I finally conceded. I slid onto the bar stool and tried not to be charmed by his smug grin.

He handed me a half-filled glass and watched my face as I took my first sip. Then he poured his own.

“How was your day?” he asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

His words floated over my skin, warm and smooth. I felt my heart swell with friendly affection for this man that barely knew me, but cared enough to ask about my day- my day that was filled with kids and mess and craziness.

“Actually, pretty good.”
I tucked some hair behind my ear and took another sip of wine. “I enjoyed my trip to the grocery store. Thanks again for calling Emma.”

“My pleasure.”
His gaze stayed focused on my face. “My day was good too, thanks for asking.”

I shook my head at him. “Put any bad guys in jail?”

His warm chuckle filled the room with an easy grace. “Not today. Let’s see, I had a mediation, a couple contracts and one last will and testament. I told you, no
Law and Order
for me. It’s all paperwork.”

“You’re really pretty boring, aren’t you?” I dropped my chin into my hand. “No wonder you have such a hard time getting dates.”

His eyes narrowed playfully. “I don’t have a hard time getting dates.”

“Oh, just keeping them?”

“I’m going to take my wine back.”

I gulped a big swallow and then grinned at him. “Let’s hear the gory details, Ben. Where’s Mrs. Tyler? Emma said you were perfectly normal. You didn’t make any disgusting mouth noises or try to get out of paying the check. How is it that you’re still single?”

He swirled his wine and stared at it contemplatively. “There’s not a big mystery here, if that’s what you’re looking for. I’ve had girlfriends off and on over the years, but no one that I really felt a deep connection to. To be fair though, I have been pretty focused on my career lately and before that, school. It wasn’t until recently that the idea of finding someone to settle down with entered my mind.”

“Oh.” Well, that was a normal enough answer. “You’re a workaholic then?” I teased.

“My dad’s a workaholic,” Ben explained without any hint of humor. “I’ve spent a large amount of my life chasing his high expectations.”

“Oh,” I repeated. This was the real reason he didn’t like working for his dad. “You don’t seem to still struggle with that?”

“A year ago, he had a pretty severe heart attack. It really shook him up, helped him realign some of his priorities. It also helped me realize how short life can be. I spent the majority of my life chasing after this impossible goal he had set for me. He was a mostly miserable man, always focused on work and building his practice. And he wanted me to be the same and to dedicate my life to the same pursuits. Then he had the heart attack. I walked into his hospital room, saw him lying on the bed, attached to machines and monitors, barely breathing on his own and I realized I didn’t want that to be me. I saw an empty shell of a man that had nothing to show for his life’s work. At least nothing that mattered. He had a son that couldn’t stand the sight of him and a wife that barely tolerated his existence. No friends, no co-workers that cared enough to show up. He was alone. I decided then that I wouldn’t spend every minute of my life pursuing things that would never care about me too, that would never love me back.”

It seemed that every time Ben spoke, I admired him even more. “How is he today?”

“He’s better,” Ben answered softly. “His health is better, and I think he realized a lot of the same things I did. We’ve been working on our relationship. It’s not perfect. And it hasn’t been easy for him to change. But, slowly… we’re getting there slowly. It’s not the lost cause I once thought it was.”

“And your mom?”

“She’s great. You would love her actually. She’s full of life, very funny, pretty much the opposite of my dad. They’re working on things too. I think they’ve lived together being miserable for so long, they’re not sure how to go forward. But they’re trying. That’s part of the reason I can learn to respect him now. I couldn’t stand the way he neglected her… ignored her. He washed-out this effervescent woman until she became a shadow at his side. I just… I couldn’t tolerate that.”

“But things are better now?” It seemed he needed to be reminded. I could see how hard it was for him to accept this change and I didn’t blame him. His dad sounded like a piece of work.

“Things are better,” he agreed. He took a deep breath and leveled me with another intense gaze.
“Alright, your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Serious questioning.
You got down to the bottom of me, now I want to hear about you.”

I fortified myself with another gulp of wine. He was right. It was only fair, even if I didn’t want to go into details. If I really wanted a friendship with Ben, I owed him this.

He started with a relatively easy question though. “I worked on a will today and it got me to thinking, are you okay in this house? Will I be getting a new neighbor any time soon?”

“Wow, starting with financials.
How classy of you.”

He made a growly sound and demanded, “Answer the question, Liz. I like having you as a neighbor. I’m going to be pretty distraught if I come home one day and see a for sale sign in your yard.”

My heart jumped in my chest. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“Answer the question, you aggravating woman.”

I gave him a dramatic sigh, but admitted, “The house is paid for. We won’t be moving, so rest your weary head. Grady owned a construction company and used his infinite resources to build as economically as he could. He also had a trust from his dad, who died when he was in high school and I had money from my grandfather. We didn’t want to worry about a mortgage on top of business debt, so we paid off the house.”

“And his life insurance is enough for you to stay home full-time?”

I felt a little strange opening up to someone outside of my family, but I didn’t see the harm in answering his questions. “He had a large policy. So do I. With four kids, there’s no other way to do life insurance. There’s more than enough to get me through these next few years while the kids are little. I have an education though. I’d like to go back to work after
Jace
goes to school.”

“That’s nice how that worked out for you,” he said softly. He must have seen my expression crumble from his words because he quickly added, “Not nice, obviously. But I’m glad for your sake you were prepared.” With a rueful twist of his lips, he added, “I’m glad you’re taken care of, for my sake.”

“Your sake?”

“I get to keep my neighbors. That’s good for me because I like them.”

“Just wait until I start throwing
keggers
. And Blake and Abby shoot out your windows with their BB guns.”

He walked around the island and stood over me. I could smell his pleasant, masculine cologne and feel the heat of his body. He had completely invaded my personal space and seemed very unapologetic about it.

His thumb rubbed at my upper lip. “Wine,” he explained. “If you start throwing
keggers
, I hope I’m invited. And if you ever decide to buy Blake and Abby BB guns, send them to me so I can teach them how to use them properly.”

“Grady had a brain tumor! I mean, technically tumors, plural.” The words exploded from my mouth. He was too sweet, too close. Emma’s words screamed in my head and his touch tingled against my skin. I had to do something. Ben took a quick step back and practically fell onto the nearest barstools. “That’s what killed him. Or, um, cardiac arrest actually killed him. But that’s what made him sick. He fought for two years. We went through as many treatments as we could. Surgery wasn’t an option. We tried the regular drugs, experimental drugs, chemo,
radiation
. We did everything we could, but it didn’t matter. He… he couldn’t…” Tears dripped down my cheeks as I tried to explain my husband’s sickness to this man.

“Liz,” he whispered.

“March,” I croaked. “He’s been gone since March.” I buried my face in my hands, unable to look at Ben anymore.

“Oh, Liz.”

His arms wrapped around my torso, tugging me tightly to him. His warmth completely enveloped me, completely immersed
me
in him.

His nearness felt more comforting than anything had in a very long time and that confused me. I cried harder, battling within myself whether to let him hold me or pull away and ask him to leave.

Eventually I gave in and sunk into his hug. I kept my hands over my face in a silly attempt to keep my makeup from running all over his gray t-shirt. He held me close to his chest, my ear resting against the heavy beats of his heart.

He whispered soothing words that I couldn’t hear above the roar of my internal war and never moved away from me, not until I had calmed down enough to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” I said, embarrassed by my outburst. “I didn’t mean to leak all over you.”

He had no patience for my flippant attitude. His hands brushed from my shoulders, up the line of my neck until they cupped my face. He tilted it upwards to look at him and smoothed his thumbs beneath my eyes, wiping away the flood of tears.

“Don’t ever be sorry for that, Liz. You can cry on me anytime you need to.”

“Why are you so nice to me? You barely know me.”

A soft smile played on his lips, “But I like what I know so far. And I am excited for what else there is to find out.” He stepped back to refill our wine while I reeled from his words.

He settled back onto the bar stool and started conversation again about our nosey neighbor, Mrs.
Mitchum
, who had brought over an olive loaf for him the other day and made him give her a tour of his house.

We talked for another two hours, enjoying the wine and learning more about each other little pieces at a time. By the time I walked him to the front door, it was past my usual bed time and I knew I would be more tired than usual in the morning.

But I fell asleep easily and without tears.

Ben had been a therapy of sorts. And I couldn’t make myself regret the time we’d spent together. I decided to ignore Emma’s words completely. I knew Ben better than she did and I wasn’t ready to give up this new friend I’d only just made.

Stage Three: Bargaining

I survived denial.

I crawled my way through anger.

And now I would battle bargaining.

Before this happened to me and before I became a clinical study on what it’s like to lose someone important, I had always thought of bargaining as the easy stage.

It’s so much easier to wish someone back than admit that they’re gone. It didn’t seem like a difficult process before I had to go through it myself. But I had never known real grief before, so I couldn’t picture myself pleading for my husband’s return or desperately begging God to bring him back to me.

And that is the crux of it right there.
Desperate.
Desperation.
Desperately
willing to give up anything if I could just see him one more time, speak to him one more time. Kiss him one last time.

I have become so desperate in my grief that I can’t be reasoned with. The pain continues to slice at my chest like a deadly knife, digging deep and making wounds that I am convinced can never be healed. The sheer intensity of it only worsens as the days go by. There is no end in sight. No reprieve or fast breath of relief.

There is only sadness and tears.

In the middle of this agony, I begin to think of Grady less and less. My life moves on. The kids keep me busy. School days fill my time and practices hoard my nights. I am becoming more self-sufficient every day and for the things I cannot do myself, I now have a sturdy support system that swoops in before I ever need to ask.

At night I lie in bed and force myself to think as much about Grady as I can. I constantly worry about losing all of my memories of him, of not being able to remember things just as they were. I do whatever I can to shove thoughts of everyone else out of my head and think only of Grady.

Because he is not the only person I want to think about. And I hate myself for that. I hate that my thoughts won’t stay loyal to my husband.

I will do anything to ease this guilt and misery, to tape my broken heart back together. I will do anything to think of Grady as my husband.
Even still.
Even beyond his death.

And to think of Ben as only a friend.

Chapter Fourteen

“You guys shouldn’t have let me sleep in! I could have gotten up!” I wandered into the kitchen, following my nose and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

My parents had arrived from Florida the day before. They were from this area and had raised Emma and me here, but took their retirement some place warm.

After the four inches of snowstorm we got last night, I didn’t blame them. They were lucky it didn’t start until after we got home from the airport. It had been a very mild fall. New England had one of the prettiest winters in the country and I was excited to finally have snow on the ground.

This was our first real snow of the season and it was just in time for Christmas. The kids had been off since last Friday and I appreciated the snow for them and for my parents.

Christmas would be hard enough this year; it helped that it would at least be pretty.

“No, grandparents are supposed to wake up early, Lizbeth. That’s why we came.” My dad sat hunched over the kids’ table with his knees pressed to his chest and a princess crown on his head.

My dad, Matthew Ferris, looked like the banker he used to be even in his late sixties, except for the tiara perched atop his head. His strong nose and angular jaw gave him the visage of a man in charge. Until his grandchildren surrounded him. Then he turned into a big puddle of grandpa and spoiled them rotten.

My mother, Julia, stood next to my
Kuerig
, already brewing me a cup. She looked sleepy still, hugging a cup of her own coffee and dressed in her fuzzy pink pajama pants.

“I thought we would wake you up.” She passed the hot coffee to me and I inhaled deeply. “We were so loud down here. Did you take a sleeping pill?”

“No,” I told her. “I haven’t taken one in a long time. I’ve started to sleep better lately.”

“Oh,” her soft voice pulled on my heart. My mother was the sweetest woman I knew and she had been incredible during this time. Both of my parents were great actually. They loved each other deeply. One of the hardest things for them about Grady’s death was that I wouldn’t get to grow old with him. They felt they had something unique and beautifully special. They had wanted the same thing for me.

I looked out the windows to the snow-covered backyard. “I should go shovel the drive before we need to go anywhere.”

“You didn’t hire it done?” my dad asked while he pulled
Jace
onto his long legs.

“No, but that’s a good idea.” I wondered if Dillan, the kid I hired to mow over the summer, was back for Christmas break. I could give him a call…

“Then who’s out there shoveling it? I thought you paid a man or I would have done it myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Liz, there’s a man out there shoveling your walk right now.”
 

My stomach flipped as I hurried to the front door. My family room had a nice view of the front yard and part of Ben’s yard, but I had to go to my front door to see the driveway. I held my coffee carefully in my hands so not to spill it, but I had to confirm my suspicions.

I opened the door and stepped out onto the shoveled porch in just my slippers. The cold, icy air bit at my skin and blew up my thin pajamas. I shivered in the morning air as I took in the sight of Ben working his way up and down my long drive.

“Hey!” I called out to him. His head lifted to face me, and even though he wore a stocking cap and a scarf that covered half of his face, I could see his eyes brighten with a smile. “I hope you’re not expecting a tip!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed at my joke. He stuck the shovel into a snowbank and walked over to me, tugging his scarf down as he went.

“No tip? I quit.”

“You can’t quit!” I squeaked. “You’re only halfway finished.”

He grinned at me. “And it doesn’t look like you’ll get out here anytime soon, lazy bones. Did the kids let you sleep in this morning?”

I handed him my coffee without thinking. He took it and held it in front of his face for a minute before taking a healthy drink.

“My parents flew in yesterday,” I reminded him. “They let me have some peace. Well, after
Jace
, Abby and Lucy all woke up and got out of my bed.”

“Oh, that’s right. They’re the ones responsible for ruining wine night.”

I shook my head at him. “I’m sure you survived.”

“Well, I drank the wine, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“All of it?”

He laughed into my coffee, “I’m teasing. I saved it for you.”

“Of course you did! I’m so much more fun than drinking by
yourself
.”

“Yeah, our two glasses of wine once a
week,
really blow my mind.”

“You’re so full of yourself today. It must be the snow. It’s gone straight to your head.”

I reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair back into his stocking cap. It had fallen over his eyes and was undoubtedly adorable, but I knew it had to bother him while he tried to work.

His skin was so cold to my touch. I pressed my hand against his face, hoping to help warm him up.

I watched his eyes darken at the gesture and my stomach flipped again.

“I missed you last night, Liz.”

His rumble of words hit me straight in the belly and caused tingles to ripple out from my center. I took a steadying breath and tried to banish my hormones.

This had been happening more and more lately. He had somehow infiltrated my life in as many ways as he could. He ate dinner at our house often and came over after the kids were in bed to talk over wine or popcorn. He helped me around the house and in the yard and even helped Blake with his math homework occasionally.

I had gotten used to seeing him almost every day and when our schedules didn’t line up or we spent our evenings apart, there were always text messages to exchange or short phone calls to check in.

I wasn’t surprised to see him out shoveling my walk without asking him to do so, but I was so grateful that he chose to help me. I was like this never-ending charity case for him and he was my mega hot Good Samaritan.

I knew our relationship was unconventional, but I couldn’t stop myself from drawing closer to him. He had saved me more times than once. And more than that, I really enjoyed spending time with him.

“Liz, is everything okay?” My mom’s voice saved me from replying to Ben’s sweet words.

“Hi, Mom.”
I sounded ridiculously breathless. My cheeks heated with a mixture of shame and embarrassment. “I, um, I’m just talking with Ben. Ben this is my mom Julia. Mom, this is Ben, my next-door neighbor. He’s the one shoveling the drive.”

“Hi, Ben.”
My mom extended her slender hand, only to be swallowed up in Ben’s big, gloved one.

“Hi, Julia.
It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you for shoveling for us. That is very generous.” I watched my mother assess Ben from head to toe and I felt guilt all over again. I didn’t know what this looked like to her, but I could only imagine the thoughts running through her head. Especially because Ben still held my coffee cup.

“He’s just being neighborly,” I explained quickly. “Ben is the best neighbor. He helps out a lot.”

Ben’s face flashed with irritation and I immediately regretted my words, but it was too late now. I should be able to explain Ben to my mom without feeling this sick to my stomach. Ben and I weren’t anything but friends. I didn’t understand where this acidic feeling of indignity came from.

“Just being neighborly,” he repeated with a very unamused voice.

“We’re friends too,” I blurted. “We’ve become friends. Good friends. The kids love him.”
Oh, god, I needed to stop.

 
“Then I should thank you for that too,” my mom offered. “Liz’s father and I have been so frustrated by how far away we live. It eases my mind that there’s someone close by she can count on.”

“Liz can definitely count on me,” Ben told her. “Like she said, I’m the best neighbor.”

Oh, good grief.

The kids started screaming in the background, fighting over something or other, probably my dad. My mom excused herself to go check on them.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered as soon as she disappeared. I didn’t even know what I was apologizing for; I just knew I owed Ben some kind of explanation.

“What’s there to be sorry for, neighbor?” He handed me back my cup that had cooled considerably from the winter wind.

I shivered on the door step, unsure how to proceed with Ben. “I’m an idiot. You’re obviously more than my neighbor.”

“A friend, right?”
But his words tasted bitter.

“Ben, I’m not sure what-”

His fierce expression softened and his shoulders relaxed. “I am your friend, Liz. We’re good friends.”

“Right,” I whispered against the clenching feeling in my chest. “Good friends.”

My dad appeared behind me suddenly. “Matthew Ferris,” he all but shouted. He stuck his hand in Ben’s face and exerted his lifetime of distinguished authority figure. “I hear you’re the one we have to thank for the driveway.”

Ben graciously shook my dad’s hand. “Ben Tyler. It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.”

“And what do you do for a living, Ben?”

“Really, dad?”
Ben was never going to talk to me again after this morning. If he hadn’t thought of me as a head case before this moment, then he would have no choice but to now.

But Ben was apparently used to crazy people. He gave my dad a charming smile and said, “I’m a lawyer.”

That settled dad down some. But I still felt the need to explain, “Ben’s dad is going to retire in a few years, so Ben is transitioning to take over their firm.”

“Oh,” my dad muttered, unable to come up with a legitimate reason to hate Ben based on his occupation. “Well, that’s… good for you, son. I’ll just go find your mother now, Elizabeth, and see what she’s up to.”

“Good idea, Dad.”

“Nice to meet you, Ben.”
My dad practically ran into the kitchen.

“Are your parents scouting me?” His earlier irritation had disappeared and been replaced with his usual amusement.

I shivered and looked toward the kitchen. “Something
like
that. I haven’t mentioned you before; I think they’re beyond curious.”

He let out a frustrated sigh that made me turn to meet his dark gaze. “Have I told you before that you can be aggravating?”

“Once or twice.”

“Will I see you at all this week?”

I shook my head and stared into my coffee, ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach. “My parents are staying with me through New
Years
.”

“
Mmm
,” he acknowledged. “I’d better get back to shoveling. And you should get out of this cold.”

I looked up and braved his warm gaze. “I’m going to miss wine night,” I whispered.

His eyes heated up and whatever tension had been left from our awkwardness earlier floated away.
“Call or text me.
I, at least, want to hear that you remembered to buy milk.”

My heart jumped in my chest. “Miss me that much?”

“Miss you more than that much.”

My lips parted in surprise, but as usual he left me to stare after him. He readjusted his scarf to cover his mouth and walked back to his shovel.

I hurried inside, suddenly aware of how cold I was. I carried my cooled coffee back to the kitchen and rinsed it out in the sink. I had just started a new cup when I felt my parents’ presence fill up the space behind me.

“He’s your neighbor?” My mother’s voice sounded incredibly suspicious.

I turned around to face the inquiry. What were they thinking about me? I immediately imagined the worst.

What kind of woman made friends with other men nine months after her husband died? What kind of woman flirted with another man nine months after her husband died?

I winced internally. Not a good woman. I knew that much.

“Yes, my neighbor. He moved in a few months ago. He’s been… honestly, he’s been great. The kids love him. He’s helped out so much. I just… he’s just a really nice guy.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” my mom admitted softly. “He also seems very interested in you.”

My dad looked between the two of us, carefully gaging our tension. His heavy arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me into the sanctuary of his embrace. This was the safest place I knew of now that Grady was dead and I couldn’t help but feel small and childish wrapped in my daddy’s arms. But it was a good feeling. “He’d be crazy not to be interested in you.”

I smiled through blurry tears. “We’re just friends.” I had repeated that simple line so many times that it had started to chafe my throat whenever I forced the words out.

My mom reached out to squeeze my arm. Her voice never rose above a whisper, “It’s okay to move on, Lizzy.”

“No, it’s not,” I hiccupped on a broken sob.

“It is,” my dad rumbled against my temple. “Grady never would have wanted you to be alone for the rest of your life. You have too much on your plate. I’m not saying that this is the man to move on with. I just want you to open up to the possibility. You don’t have to do this alone. We all understand.”

I loved my father, but I hated his words. Didn’t he know how much I loved Grady? I’d said vows that would last forever. I promised to love one man for the rest of my life.

And those were not empty vows. I meant them the day I got married and I still meant them today. Nobody could compete with the man that Grady was.

I didn’t even want to try to find a man as good as the only man I’d ever loved.

Ben was a great guy and I enjoyed spending time with him. I could admit, even if I didn’t want to, that I even enjoyed flirting with him occasionally. But I had never thought about him seriously like that.

We were neighbors. We were also friends. But there were no other feelings between us.

“It’s too soon,” I cried to my parents. “It’s way too soon to even think about that. I can’t… I couldn’t… I could never do that to Grady.”

“Oh, Sweetheart.”
My mother’s arms wrapped around my back and I felt her hot tears fall on my shoulder. “Grady is gone, Lizzy. He’s gone forever. You’re not doing anything to him. He would never begrudge you for falling for someone else. You have got to give yourself some forgiveness. Don’t tie yourself up in his memory for the rest of your life and miss what else could be out there.”