Tuesday Evening ….
A deep, male voice sang "The Green Green Grass of Home" on the radio. Dief lay on his dog bed, dozing peacefully. Meg hummed along with the radio as she cooked in Benton's small kitchen. She squinted at the recipe, despite her reading glasses.
"Benton, what does this say?" She called, the recipe card in one hand and a spatula in the other.
The Constable laid aside the newspaper to go to the kitchen. He passed Ben sitting at the kitchen table, doing homework. Absently, he ruffled the boy's short, dark brown hair.
"They should have to print everything at a minimum of size fourteen font. This is ridiculous." Meg fumed, handing him the thin, white, index card.
"The recipe says to simmer for fifteen minutes, stirring occasionally." He handed the card back. "And you need to have an eye exam." He pressed a kiss against her cheek to soften the glare he received. Meg still felt touchy about her eyesight, especially when she had trouble with simple things.
"Thank you." She said, stirring the pound of loose hamburger, canned baked beans, one cup of barbecue sauce and one cup of ketchup simmering in a cast iron skillet. "Will you make the mashed potatoes while you're here?" Meg asked, pointing toward a kettle of peeled, cooked potatoes on the back burner.
"It would be my pleasure." Benton answered, pulling out the drawer where he kept the potato masher. For a while they worked in companionable silence. Meg minded the "hamburger stuff" as her mother had titled it. Benton mashed the potatoes, also humming along with the radio.
"Ben, would you set the table, please?" Benton asked, gently reminding the boy of his chore.
"Sorry, Dad, I forgot." Quickly, he stuffed his homework into his text book and set them on the window sill until later. Meg noticed how tall Ben had grown as he reached for plates in the cabinet. He looked more like his father every day.
"He'll be a heart breaker in a few years, if he isn't already. I hope he's more at ease with girls than Benton." Meg thought to herself, smiling secretively.
Dinner on the table, the three sat down to eat. Benton poured Diefenbaker a fresh bowl of water and kibble before taking his seat. The old wolf begged for some hamburger stuff but Benton refused.
Ben silently watched as his father and Meg talked of current events in the news as well as their jobs. Meg asked after people she'd worked with while at the consulate. Some of them had retired since her days in Chicago. Ben wondered what it was like to be her age, or his father's. They'd seen and done so much.
"You're quiet tonight." Meg asked, dishing out a no-bake cheesecake drenched in strawberries and glaze. She studied the teen a second before attending to her favorite dessert.
"I've just got things on my mind. I'm fine." Ben answered, a half hearted smile on his face.
"Okay, let me know if there's anything I can help with." Meg offered, then let the subject drop. Ben smiled a little broader then bit into his slice of cheesecake.
After dessert, Benton took Dief for a walk around the block. Meg washed dishes while Ben dried and put them away. He worked methodically, making sure both the inside and outside of each dish was bone dry. Meg watched him, wondering at his preoccupation. She didn't want to pry or seem pushy. She remembered her teen years and the way every question her parents asked seemed like an invasion of privacy. Ben wouldn't keep it to himself for long. He took after his father too much.
Meg cleaned the sink while Ben dried the cast iron skillet. The boy laid it on the table and came to stand beside Meg.
"When you were my age, if you asked a guy for homework help and gave him your phone number, when did you expect him to call you?" Ah, girl trouble. Ben frowned, his blue eyes dark as he waited for Meg to answer.
"By the next day I suppose, I was an impatient teenager." Meg answered honestly. "Who asked for your help?" She tried to sound casual and not make an embarrassing fuss.
"Rena McCoy, she's a softball player and a cheerleader." Ben answered, dreamy eyed.
"I take it she's the prettiest girl in school?" Meg asked, sneaking a look at Ben.
"Yeah, she is. Every time I see her I get tongue tied and can't think clearly." Ben admitted, leaning against the counter. Meg smiled, shaking her head.
"Is she nice?" Meg asked, hoping this girl wouldn't break Ben's heart. She wanted so much for him. He deserved all the love and happiness life had to offer.
"I think so, but I don't really know her very well."
"Look at how she treats others, if she's nice, she's a keeper." Meg advised. She wished someone had given her that advice years ago.
"I think I'll call her in a little while." Ben stepped away from the sink. He put away the skillet and pulled out his homework.
"Are you and Dad going to the bed and breakfast?" Ben asked, looking up from his English text book.
"Yes. I but in a leave request this morning. All I'm waiting for is for Benton to ask for that Friday off." Meg sat down at the table across from Ben. He nodded, a pleased grin on his features. She noticed his smattering of freckles and youthful, round cheeks. Meg felt a familiar ache welling up. God, she wanted him to be her son. She wanted her own daughter to be there with her.
"Benton and Dief have been gone for a long time." Meg stood up, pushing the ache back down.
"Dief probably found an interesting scent, well, maybe Dad did." Ben grinned. He still couldn't believe some of the things he'd seen his dad stick his nose in. The boy tried to forget the things he'd seen the Mountie taste.
"Yes, he does seem to attract trouble." Meg chuckled to herself. She remembered their time in an egg incubator as well as a trip on an antique sailing ship.
Half an hour later, Benton came in carrying Dief. The old wolf looked at Meg with the most pitiful expression. He whined softly as Benton set him down on his dog bed in the corner of the living room.
"What's wrong, Dad?" Ben asked, concerned. He walked out of the kitchen to kneel down beside his furry friend.
"He's been complaining about his hips for a while. The trip up the stairs was too much, especially after chasing the ice cream truck for two blocks." Benton wagged an admonishing finger at the old wolf.
"All you had to do was ask, I'd have given you a scoop." Ben whispered as he stroked Dief's head and chest. Dief gave him a grateful face licking.
"I've never known Dief to be so feeble." Meg remarked as she and Benton watched the boy and the wolf.
"He's quite old. He was three years old when I first came to Chicago hunting my father's killer." Benton ran his thumb nail over his left brow. Meg could tell Dief's condition concerned him.
"Diefenbaker is older than Ben?" Meg realized, which made her feel old.
"Yes, by roughly four years."
"How long do wolves live, generally?" Meg asked.
Ben walked up to them, brows knit in concern. "Is Dief going to be alright?" He whispered, his back to the old wolf.
"I'm not sure, son." Benton answered honestly.
"I hope so." The boy sighed, looking down at his shoes.
"Are you going to call Rena this evening?" Meg changed the subject. She couldn't handle the matching looks of worry on their faces.
"Yes, I will before it gets any later." Ben's face brightened, his eyes lighting up like sapphires. Benton and Meg watched as Ben took the cordless phone into his bedroom. Benton pulled Meg into a side hug, planting a kiss against her cheek.
"What was that for?" She nestled against this solid frame, looking up into his loving eyes.
"You're a good mother." Benton spoke solemnly.
Meg didn't know how to respond. She didn't think of herself as Ben's mother. She'd had no part in raising him.
"I'm not trying to take Victoria's place." Meg assured Benton seriously. "I'm not angling to be his stepmother."
"No one could take her place, but I'm glad he has you just the same." Benton leaned in, kissing Meg in earnest. His fingers slid into her hair, cradling her head. Meg closed her eyes and leaned into him. She couldn't have moved if she'd wanted. Love had nailed her feet to the floor.
