Her eyes searched mine, but she didn’t speak. Not yet. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to study me. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking.
“I doubt that,” she finally said.
“Huh?” I shook my head, not sure what she meant.
“Well, as far as I can tell, he’s got you. And you seem to have followed through. I’m sure he hasn’t lost faith in everyone.”
Her comment hit me square in the chest. Yes, she was right. Of course I was here for Ben. I was his father; it was what I was supposed to do. But that didn’t mean he was used to relying on others. Her comment and the tone in which she delivered it told me maybe we weren’t the only ones Zoë had let down.
“I may look like her, but I’m not her. Not at all.” Shelley directed those piercing blue eyes on me. Her words couldn’t have been more true. Not only was she nothing like Zo, the way Ben lit up when she was around…he wasn’t like that with anyone else, however happy and upbeat Ben was.
“Got it!” Ben hollered, carrying the box of baked goodies inside. “Can I have a taste?”
“Sure,” Shelley said, at the same time I replied with, “You need to have some dinner first.”
“Great!” Ben dropped the box and started digging into the cupcakes.
“Ben.” I used my serious Dad-voice. The one that told him I meant business. “What did I say?”
“But Auntie Shelley said I could,” he whined.
“Hey,” Shelley spoke up before I could reply. “Your dad said you need to have dinner first. I’ll warm it up when you’re ready to eat, and after dinner,” she quickly shifted her gaze to me and nodded, “you can have as many cupcakes as your dad says so. Okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed.
I stared at her, not sure how to respond. I wasn’t used to having someone else parent Ben. Sure, Ben had spent time with Shelley in the past. She’d watched him during our visits for Christmas and even had him for a weekend once at her place. She was comfortable parenting Ben. But this was my home, and we weren’t on a holiday. It felt different. It was just him and me at home. I never had anyone to second-guess what I said or side with me if Ben didn’t like a decision I made. This whole situation felt foreign. But also easier, somehow. I looked from Ben to Shelley and back again, noting how they went about as if everything about this situation were normal, while I was left wondering how we were in this situation.
“Right, Dad?” Ben’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Huh?” My chest rose.
“I said,” Ben spoke louder, looking at me, “I want to show Shelley my room, and then we can eat. That’s okay, right?”
“Sure thing.” I forced a smile on my face, my mind still a confused mess.
Ben tugged Shelley with him, rattling off details about what furniture he was putting where. His loud, pounding steps on the stairs matched his animated chatter.
I turned to the boxes littering the countertops. Clearing up some of the kitchen utensils and other kitchen paraphernalia lying around helped me sort through the mess not only in the kitchen, but also in my mind. Creating order amongst the chaos always helped organize my thoughts. By the time Ben and Shelley came back down, the kitchen looked like a real kitchen.
“Wow, you have countertops.” Shelley smirked.
“I know.” I crossed my arms. “I even have a stove.” I pointed out the appliance, now visible once all the clutter was cleared and stowed away.
Shelley rolled her eyes, but I caught a smile tugging her lips up as she turned her face away.
“Why don’t I start boiling some water to cook the pasta so we can eat? You know, seeing as you have a stove and all.” She raised her right brow, jutting out her hip.
“By all means.” I gestured my hand, indicating she could go ahead.
Shelley didn’t falter; she started opening cabinets until she located the pots she needed and got to work.
“You know,” she set a pan of water on the stove and cocked her head to the side, “you can set the table. Make yourself useful.”
I stared at her, unsure how to respond.
When she pressed her lips together, fighting a smile, I grinned. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, making a lavish effort of gathering the plates, cutlery, and glasses and getting to work.
The place soon filled with the fragrance of fresh tomatoes, basil and sausage, and my stomach grumbled. Moving all day had given me an appetite.
“Ben, can you get the cheese out of the fridge and put it on the table, please? We’re almost ready to eat.” Shelley lifted the lid and gave the sauce another stir.
“All done, Auntie Shell.” Ben entered the kitchen. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Let’s eat.” Shelley nodded, wrapping a towel around the pot of hot, cooked pasta.
“Let me carry that.” I took a quick step, bringing me close to her side. Lifting my hands, I raised them to the handles, taking over her hold on the handles of the pot. Her fingers brushed mine as I rested my fingers gently over her hold, and her face turned to me. Standing this close, our faces were only inches apart. Her forehead furrowed, and her eyes burned with curiosity as they ran over me.
“You coming, or what? I’m hungry.” Ben ran back into the kitchen.
Shelley pulled back, her hands dropping from the handles, brushing mine again as she withdrew from the hot pan.
I cleared my throat and replied, “Just getting this pan, Ben.”
Shelley didn’t wait for me; she didn’t even look back. She walked over to the table and sat down in her seat, talking to Ben all the while.
Dinner passed in a flurry of animated conversation. Ben’s animated conversation. He kept up a steady stream of plans he had for the new place, his new school he would start on Monday, friends he was convinced he would make. Luckily, he kept the conversation going. I smiled at the right times, offering a yeah when necessary, but my mind was still stuck in the kitchen, at the sink, on that pot.
What had I been thinking? This was Shelley. Zo’s baby sister. And I had just basically held hands with her. Okay, not really. But I’d felt something stir inside.
I needed to get my head checked.
Or get some rest.
Something was seriously wrong with me.
“Why don’t you help me clear the table?” I stood, gathering the dirty dishes and indicating for Ben to help me.
Ben and I made quick work of clearing up, while Shelley packed up the leftover food.
“I’m going to start putting my clothes in my closet.” Ben bounced out of the kitchen, that same energy that had been present all day carrying him up to his new room with a spring in his step.
“I guess there’s no need to worry about him not settling in.” Shelley folded her arms and leaned back on the countertop.
“You know how they say kids are resilient. But he’s making this move seem like a walk in the park.” My eyes traveled to the doorway he’d just left through, shaking my head.
“How are you holding up?” Shelley turned her searching blue gaze on me. Her penetrating stare made it hard to look away.
Normally, I’d just shrug and offer an okay, but something in her scrutinizing gaze caused me to pause. “Honestly?” I released my breath.