37 - Perception
Ben couldn't think of a place he wanted to be less on a Saturday morning than at the City of Palo Alto Public Library, helping his mother look up information on divorce law. But he'd promised.
"We shouldn't be here too long, honey," she said as if reading his mind. "I really appreciate your help on this. There's just a couple of things I want to learn more about with this whole thing."
"Don't worry about it, Mom." Ben pulled open the front door.
They entered the library and navigated their way to the section that held all the legal books. His mother spent the first fifteen minutes at the online catalog station, writing down the call numbers of various books. She handed him a card. "Can you look for these for me, please? The catalog says they're all checked in."
"Sure." Ben took the card and headed into the stacks. He found three of the books, but the fourth wasn't in its place on the shelf. He went back to the library table where his mother sat, and put the books down. "The last one isn't there."
"But they said it was. That's the main book I wanted. Can you ask at the information desk for me?"
"Yeah." Ben went to the information desk.
The lady at the desk looked up the book in her computer and pronounced it "in," which Ben already knew. "It might be waiting to be shelved. You may want to ask at the front desk to see if it's on the cart."
"Thanks." This is starting to feel like a wild goose chase. Ben walked toward the front of the library. A group of people were already waiting to be helped, so he got in line.
Then he saw Felicity across the room.
Once his eyes landed on her, he couldn't look away. She was dressed in jeans and a lightweight shirt, with her hair in a ponytail. She was talking to some old lady. And smiling.
Ben felt his heart squeeze. He'd seen her briefly last night at the beach, and it felt like months ago. He'd gotten too used to seeing her every day.
He saw her shake hands with the lady and turn to leave with a wave goodbye. He watched until she went out the door and he couldn't see her anymore.
"Are you in line, sir?"
Ben jerked to attention and looked at the man standing impatiently behind him. "Yeah. Sorry." He approached the desk and asked about his mother's book. It turned out to be on their cart, after all, so he took it and left the line.
The old lady was still standing across the library. Burning with curiosity, Ben crossed the room. "Excuse me. That girl who you were just talking to. Why was she here?"
The lady pushed her glasses up her nose and blinked owlishly at him. "Oh, she was checking on her piece for the display, dear."
"Display? What display?"
The lady waved a hand behind her. When Ben moved to examine the room dividers standing there, she trailed along. "The art display. It's running all weekend. Do you paint?"
"No, that's her thing," Ben laughed ruefully, more to himself than to the lady.
"Oh, everyone's a bit of an artist, dear. That's the nice thing about it. Art is a universal language." The lady eyed him over the top of her glasses. Something about her expression made Ben fidget where he stood. "Why don't I show you her work?"
Ben was too curious to refuse, so when the lady led him around the corner of the display, he went. She gestured to a painting and stepped back to let Ben look.
Hanging in the center of one end panel was a soft-colored landscape of a winding road. In the foreground, parked at the side of the road, was The Baby. Ben raised his eyebrows.
Beside the car, a couple stood with their arms around each other, almost blending into one another as if it were impossible to know where one ended and the other began. It ached to look at it.
But not a hollow ache. Not a lonely one. Something infinitely different, unfamiliar. Ben stared at Felicity's signature in the corner of the painting.
"She's awfully good, isn't she?"
He'd forgotten he had company. "Huh? Yeah. Yeah, she is."
- - - - -
That evening, Ben was watching television when the doorbell rang. He got off the couch and went to the door. When he opened it, his father stood there. Ben snapped to attention immediately, giving his father a wary look.
Andrew gave him a half-hearted smile and held up a large manila envelope. "Uh, hi, Ben. Your mother asked me to bring her these papers. Is she home?"
"No. She went out." Thankfully.
"Oh. Well, can I—can I come in?"
Ben was struck by the oddity of his father asking to enter what had been his own house. He gritted his teeth and backed up. "Yeah."
His father stepped into the foyer. "So, how have you been? How was school?"
Ben hunched his shoulders. "I'm fine."
"That's good. Your mother says you did well in your classes."
"I did all right." Ben rubbed at the back of his neck. "Dad, you didn't come in to talk about school with me, did you?"
"No, son, I didn't."
Don't call me 'son.' You don't get to call me that. Ben wanted to say it aloud, but something held him back. Something always held him back from saying the things he wanted to say to his father. They bottlenecked up in him until he couldn't stand it. "What did you want, then?"
"Oh. Uh…hold on a minute." Andrew pulled his wallet from his back pocket. "Your mother said you were going to be working in Mexico this summer. This is… It isn't much, but it will help you out while you're down there." He pulled a few bills from his wallet and held them out.
Ben hesitated. He hated taking anything from his father. It always felt more like a bribe than a gift. He sighed and took the money. "Thanks."
His father smiled. "Well, I should—I should go. I'll see you." He exited the still-open front door.
Ben looked down at the money, a good handful of twenties. Part of him felt guilty for even taking it. He sighed once more and fished out his own wallet to put it away.
He hesitated, staring at the wallet. He ran his thumb over the soft leather. His wallet had been a gift, too. This one came with no strings attached.
She came with no strings attached.
The phone rang, and he went to get it. "Hello?"
"You, me, and the guys. Pool table. Justin's Bar, in twenty minutes. You in?" came Jason's voice.
Ben couldn't help a smile. "Sure."