Madam Of The House

“Okay. So what am I supposed to do with him when I have to leave the house?”

Dannie shrugged. “Take him with you.” She bussed Cecilia on the cheek. “Listen, I really appreciate this. I hope he won’t be too much trouble.”

From upstairs they heard a crash and a thump.

Cecilia felt a shooting pain behind her right eye. “I’m sure he won’t be any trouble at all,” she said.

CECILIA LAY like a deflated birthday balloon on the family room couch after a very long evening with Quincy and Brian, who were both finally asleep on Brian’s bed.

She heard the front door open, and a few moments later Ben walked into the kitchen.

She really should have had the locks changed.

“Where were you?” she said.

Ben shrugged.

She sat up. “Brian was asking about you all evening. Wondering where you were.”

“Yeah, well. Something came up.”

“Like what? What could be more important than this?”

“Lay off, Cecilia. I couldn’t make it, okay? I have a lot on my plate.”

Cecilia followed Ben into the kitchen. He took a beer out of the refrigerator, twisted the cap off and flicked it into the sink—a behavior that dated back to his days as a bachelor. Once when they were dating, she’d found twenty-seven beer caps in his sink. He hadn’t actually washed a dish in it for three weeks.

That should have told her something about his motivation level.

“I don’t get you,” she said. “What could possibly be more important than your son coming home?”

Ben leaned a hip against the counter and took a swig of his beer. “I just…I didn’t want to see him, okay?”

The moisture completely evaporated from Cecilia’s mouth. “You what?”

“I didn’t want to see him. I don’t know what to say to him. How to act.”

“You act like his father.”

Ben shook his head. “You know damn well that doesn’t work with Brian.”

“Because you yell at him for things he can’t help. He’s just…he’s different. He’s sensitive.”

Ben looked down at his shoes. “I can’t do it, Cece.”

The blood pulsed behind Cecilia’s eyes. Coursed through her veins. This had to be what David Banner felt like just before he turned into the Incredible Hulk and twisted a city bus into a piece of modern art. “Jesus, Ben. He’s your son.”

Ben was silent.

She rubbed her temples. “What am I supposed to say to all of this? I don’t understand.”