December 13, 2021

"FUCK!" Ben shouted walking into the house. He'd just gotten a call from Miranda who'd gotten a call from Condola. Judge Bell had denied their request to use the text messages.

"Dad?" Tuck said peeking up from the sofa, one side of his headphones off.

Usually when the teens had their headphones on, he and Miranda and couldn't get their attention for anything. Had he been that loud? "Yeah, uh, sorry. Did I scare you?" He asked turning the corner.

"A little. Everything okay?"

Ben growled while sitting down. "You know I love you, right?"

Tuck raised his brows. "Yes," he said dragging out the one-syllable word. "I love you, too."

"Good." He gestured for the controller and they began playing together. Ben loved the monotony of video gaming. His fingers worked on their own accord while his brain drifted from thought to thought. What could be their next plan?

"We'll get her back."

"I hope so, kid." Half an hour later, the doorbell rang and Tuck jumped up. "Are you expecting someone?" Ben asked uncrossing and crossing his legs again. "Who is it?"

The boy came around the corner. "It's Yemi. Dean's sister."

Ben popped up and reached for the shirt he'd shed earlier. "Hey, girl," he said to the young woman. The two had gotten pretty close, both bunking on Dean's houseboat for a couple of weekends during their marital sabbatical.

"Hey, Ben," she said hugging him. Ben pushed some stuff to the side and offered her a seat. "Thanks."

"How… how are you?"

"She's fine," Yemi said.

He nodded. "We miss her."

Tuck piped up: "We really do." Ben held out his fist for the teen to bump. The teen headed for the kitchen, no doubt to eat anything he could get his eyes and hands on.

Yemi smiled and as familiar as it was, he couldn't place it. "So, what brings you by?"

"My mom told me about the text messages." Almost. With the numbing of the game, he'd almost forgotten. "I just wish I could do more. I know what he wanted."

"I wish your parents knew."

She swallowed. "They do. At least my dad does."

He tilted his head, engaged. "What do you mean?"

"I heard them talking, well, my mom talked. She's convinced that they're doing what's best for Pru and maybe in a way they're right, but it can't be best if that's not…" Her sentence fluttered to an end. "I'm sorry to bring this up after today, but I wanted you and Miranda to know that I'm on your side."

Ben grinned. "The only side that matters is Pru's," he said as the door opened and Miranda walked in with Joey behind her carrying groceries. "Tuck, come help with these bags please."

"Oh, Yemi!" She said giving the bags to Ben before she wrapped her arms around the young woman. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Yemi looked at Ben. "Just… came by to hang out."

Miranda nodded and handed the bags in her hand to Tuck. The boys went into the kitchen. "Well, we're glad to have you."

"I don't know if you this, Miranda, but Ben and I got really close on the boat."

Ben laughed loudly. That was true. But he'd also helped, unintentionally, steer her career toward medicine. It was hard for her, but she had the knack for it. "We used to annoy the shit out of Dean."

"That movie is too loud," Dean said taking long steps toward the stereo. "And there's popcorn all over the—ugh!"

Yemi was lying on one sofa and Ben was slouched in the armchair as they watched the fifth Harry Potter movie. It was the best one in his opinion. And while he enjoyed watching it, it only made him miss his wife like crazy. Two and half damn months had gone by and he was still without her. But Harry Potter was one of her favorites and he could practically hear her running commentary as it played. "Relax, bruh. Come and sit down, it's getting good."

"What is that? Twilight or something?"

Yemi gasped, her eyes bulging. "HOW DARE YOU?!"

"What'd I say?" Dean asked looking over at Ben who was shaking his head in pity. He stared at the screen and nodded. "Oh. Harry Potter? The one wands and wizards and stuff." His sister stuck her middle finger up at him and he ran over and tackled her. "Say sorry!"

"Ben, help!"

"Warren, stay out of this!" The two Millers howled as Ben watched. "Say sorry or I'm gonna—"

"Sorry, damn!" Yemi said coming up for air.

Dean flexed. "That's what I thought."

Her gaze landed on Ben. "You couldn't have helped me."

"Wasn't my fight," Ben answered sipping some of his beer.

"Wait…" His best friend glared at him playfully. "So, you wouldn't help my sister when she needed it?"

Ben held up a hand. "That's not what I said."

Dean and Yemi shared a look before rushing him, dragging him out of the chair and onto the floor. "Say sorry!"

"For what?!" Ben said through strained laughter. Dean sat on top of him while Yemi clasped his hands together, tickling him. "Ha ha ha! Okay, okay… Yo! Hahaha. Okay! Shit! Sorry!"

Yemi stood up first. "Owned you."

Before getting up, Dean plopped down on him and Ben groaned. "Miller tag team!"

"Whatever," Ben said unable to rise at the moment. "Just start the movie." He turned on his back and faced the screen. "Oh, damn, there is hella popcorn down here."

They welcomed Yemi to dinner, but Roz dropped by and the two of them decided to go out, taking the boys with them. At the table, Ben told her what Yemi had told him. "Sounds like regret."

"I don't much care what it sounds like, I want him to feel that way. He has some damn nerve with that shit he pulled at Thanksgiving."

"Maybe we should try and see it from their end."

No. "What do you mean?" He reached for the wine, silently asking if she wanted any.

"I'm good. Thank you." Miranda picked up her nearly empty glass. "He's grieving. They're grieving and keeping Pru can help them with that. They're her grandparents."

"I know that, Miranda."

"They lost their son." He held his breath.

"Respectfully, I don't give a damn. Because if they cared, they would do what Dean wanted. This is all bullshit."

"Don't curse at me."

His hand flew to his chest and then in the air. "I'm sorry. That wasn't toward you. I'm frustrated."

"I am, too, but… we, of all people, should be considerate… should tread lightly… maybe…"

The thought of Dani made his stomach turn. "It's not the same and you know it!"

"Maybe not, but similar enough to understand."

"Whatever."

"You're mad at me, but this is all your fault," she said in a voice that was way too calm.

And there it was. He'd been waiting for this. "I knew that's what you thought."

"If you had told me, then I would have made sure Miller signed some damn papers." She backed away from the table and stood up. She grabbed her plate and his, heading for the kitchen. He heard the water pour from the faucet and prepared himself for the fight he knew was coming that had been brewing for months. But he didn't want to, he wanted to stop it before it started. But how? Miranda returned and leaned on a chair. "And maybe if it had been once, okay. Got it. But twice, Ben? TWICE!"

"Alright, Miranda! I apologized, okay? There's nothing I can do about, so drop it."

"Don't tell me to drop it," she told him, gritting her teeth. "But I will because I don't want to get into this right now."

Ben did the same and followed her, picking up the leftover food and walking into the kitchen, almost slamming it down on the counter. "No, finish. Clearly, you need to get this off of your chest."

Turning her back, his wife began washing dishes. She was quiet for so long that Ben filled it by going to clean off the rest of the table, wanting to walk out of the door, needing air. "We're supposed to be a team."

"We are."

"So," she said in a low voice, that was teetering on hysteria, "nowhere in your mind did it occur to you that when he asked this monstrous favor, and you agreed on my behalf, that he could die? Is that what you're telling me? Really?"

"What do you want me to say? That I actually think about us dying?" He couldn't bring himself to tell her that he thought about his death—often—leaving her and the boys alone. It haunted him sometimes, kept him awake at night, his chest caving in, the fear scraping the insides of his stomach. Maybe he could go back to surgery? A loud, resounding "no" from that same gut always settled him. Being a first responder was what he was meant to do. But never once did he think Miller would be gone before him. It didn't seem right. "Is that what you want me to say?"

"No, but—"

"Then, what the hell do you want me to do, Miranda, huh? Leave her with people who don't give a damn as long as they can stake their claim on her? Am I supposed to go back on my word?"

Miranda shook her head, biting her bottom lip. She closed her eyes. "This is precisely why I took a timeout on our marriage." Her hand went to her chest and she inhaled slowly. Ben's body went into alert mode. Her heart attack a few years ago still shook him if he thought about it too hard. He hadn't been there, hadn't known to be there and she'd struggled for a year after. "It was too much then and it's too much now." Combined with the stressors of his job and hers, she had taken a "sabbatical" from them. It was one of the worst times of his life. He opened his mouth to apologize. It was his fault. "You… you just go with your gut, you make decisions, you don't talk, you don't ever think, Ben!" She took a deep breath finishing: "And it's costing me my goddamn sanity."

"I am so sorry that I'm not you. I'm sorry that I didn't think that in less than a year, I'd be burying my best friend. Sorry that I'm not the Great Chief Bailey, incapable of making mistakes." With each word, her face twisted, frowning and her eyes swelled with tears, but he couldn't stop. "I'm fucking sorry that I'm not Saint Miranda always right, always on top of shit." The sarcasm dripped from his words and he felt awful. "Baby, I…" She touched her stomach and left the room, hurriedly. "Miranda!" Keys jingled and the front door opened and closed. "SHIT!" He ran after her, picking up keys and leaving the house to see that she was trying to unlock her car door, unsuccessfully. He looked down at the keys he was holding and saw that he had hers. "Those are mine."

She held out her hand and he walked over to give her the keys. "Thank you."

As they exchanged sets of keys, he pulled her in for a hug. "I'm so sorry, baby," he said kissing her head.

"Yeah, me, too," she responded. He watched her get into her car and back out of the driveway.

He sat up for hours waiting for her to come home. Every call he made to her phone went straight to voicemail. Ben knew she had a thing with dead phone batteries, so he figured that she'd probably blocked him. He'd really screwed up. Tuck and Joey sauntered in after getting dropped off by Roz, chattering and he pretended to listen, acting as if he hadn't driven their mother out of the house with words that sliced through him when he remembered them. How could have been so reckless? The boys went to their respective rooms and he sat on the couch, not even lying down knowing that the comfort of the cushion would lull him to sleep and he'd miss her. That was if he she came back tonight. He dozed off for a second, which actually turned out to be an hour or two.

At one in the morning, he looked out of the window and saw that her car was still gone. He called her again and the phone actually rang. "Answer, answer, answer," he said out loud stretching his back.

"Who are you talking to?" A voice behind him asked.

He whipped around to see Miranda in her robe. "You're here!"

"This is our house."

"Our house? Yes, our house," he said climbing over the couch and scooping her into his arms, kissing her. "Where's your car, baby?"

She smirked and his heart tittered. "At the hospital. I was too tired to drive home."

"You could have called me."

She shrugged. "We're fighting."

He pulled his head back and sighed. "I'm so sorry for what I said."

"You should be," she replied.

The next kiss was full of passion. They sank to the floor, panting. "Miranda," he said into her back, wrapping his arms around her stomach, pulling her onto his lap as he plowed into her. They made love on the floor as quietly as they could. "Damn it."

"F… oh! My!" Before she could take His name in vain, Ben clamped her mouth with his hand. Sure she was quiet, he slinked it to her neck, touching gently. "I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming!" Miranda dropped her hands to the floor, gripping the carpet.

He went to his knees and stroked her powerfully until they were orgasming softly. "Yes, baby," he said kissing her spine. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

She turned and kissed him. "I'm sorry, too," she cried, tears soaking his shirt.

He wiped away a tear of his own. "All's forgiven."