Dreaming August (17 page)

“Thank you.” Benny’s heart welled. Her stomach clenched. She ran her fingers along his jaw. “I think you’re kind of beautiful, too.”

“I’ve got spooky eyes,” he blurted.

“I like spooky.”

“But do you like me?” He flopped back in his chair, snickering. “How incredibly middle-school, huh? Do we ever outgrow it?”

“We like to think so. But the answer is yes, Dan. I do like you.” She grinned. “I like you, like you.”

She hoped to make him laugh. Dan blew out a deep breath instead. “I get it, Benny. Henny and all. I’m not as dumb as people think.”

“I never thought you were dumb.”

“A goof then.”

“Well, you are that.”

Dan sat forward again, this time taking her hands. “I kind of hoped the reason you pulled away was because you felt something for me you weren’t ready for.”

“That has a lot to do with it.”

“Are you ready now?”

“I might be,” she said. “I’m trying to be.”

“Do you want me to fight for you, Ben? Or do you want me to leave you the hell alone? Just tell me which it is. I might not listen, but at least I’ll know.”

“I don’t want you to fight. And I don’t want you to leave me alone.”
Just be.
Harriet’s words, through Augie, whispered inside her head. “We’re both thinking too much, because we both loved Henny. Let’s just be, Dan. Whatever we are, however that turns out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Inside the enclosure, a lamb bleated. Then another, and then all of them in chorus. Benny and Dan turned to the sound, rose to their feet. Dan shined his flashlight inside and Benny ducked under his arm for a closer look.

“Nothing,” she said to Dan coming up behind her. “I swear, one of them gets bored and starts the rest of them going just so he has something to do.”

“Not a bad plan.” He swiped the beam of light over the whole flock, stopping at the one with black spots on his face. “That’s the one, right there.”

“You think so?”

“He’s got bad boy written all over his face.”

“He looks sweet to me.”

“Take my word for it,” Dan said. “I know sheep.”

And she knew bad boys. Henny was. And so was Augie. But the lamb wasn’t, and neither was Daniel Greene.

As she stood looking down at the lambs, her mind turning and tumbling over itself, Dan’s arms encircled her from behind. His chin rested on her shoulder. “Is this all right?” he whispered into her ear, kissed the tender spot just below.

Benny nodded. She leaned into him. There they remained for hours, or moments. The cool humidity of a July night in the Berkshire Mountains enveloped them as Dan did her. His hands rested gently on her abdomen. Cricket jumped and bumped but he didn’t seem to notice. Benny closed her eyes, came so close to telling him. This time, her silence came from hope, not fear.

“You want to go to the picnic with me tomorrow?” he asked.

“Well, we’ll both be here, won’t we?”

“I was hoping for more than saying hi as we pass one another at exhibits.”

“More? As in having lunch together?”

“Maybe ride a few rides?”

“Will you buy me cotton candy?”

“I might be persuaded to break open the piggy bank.”

Benny turned in his arms, winding hers around his neck. “What would I have to do to persuade you?”

“Love me?”

The muscles in his arms twitched.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant, Dan.”

“I’m not good at this kind of thing. My mouth starts flapping before my brain gets a chance to shut it the hell up.”

“Dan.” Benny placed a finger upon his lips. “How about your brain shuts it the hell up now so you can kiss me?”

His smile burst like light in the dark enclosure. Dan was right. His eyes were spooky. And beautiful. And beloved. Chills raced along her skin, into her blood and bones. Her heart thrummed to a new beat, one only this man could call up. Benny lifted her chin, closed her eyes, kissed him as he kissed her. Dan gathered her closer. She pressed her body to his. Between them, their child danced her little cricket dance, to her daddy’s newborn tune, and tears welled. Benny let them fall so the joy would not overwhelm. She was suddenly, euphorically happy she hadn’t told him yet. There were a thousand and one wonderful ways she might. In her mind, she was already planning how she would.

“I’m supposed to be keeping the peace,” he said between kisses. “You’re making me shirk my responsibilities.”

Benny kissed him one more time, and let him go. “It’s probably best if you go now, anyway,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Scandalous.” He caught her hand. “So will you go to the picnic with me?”

“I’d love to.”

“I always watch the fireworks with my mom,” he said. “I know that sounds strange but…”

“Look who you’re talking to.”

“Oh, yeah. Do you mind?”

“Sounds perfect. In fact, I was going there to visit a friend tomorrow. It’s his birthday.”

Dan lowered his gaze. Benny opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but he looked up again, smiling. “Then it’s a date.” He offered his arm, back stiff and pinky raised. “Now, Miss, if you would do me the honor, I shall escort you home.”

“Most certainly, kind sir.” Benny took his arm and they walked regally through the dark enclosure, to the moonlit and star-splashed night outside. At the zipped-up tent, Dan took her arm from his elbow and kissed her fingertips. “Thanks for the cocoa. And the cookie.”

“Take what’s left for your watch,” she said. “I’m going to sleep.”

“I will, thanks.”

Dan unzipped her tent, gestured her gallantly inside. Benny kissed his cheek as she slipped by him. Sitting on her heels atop her sleeping bag, she waved to him through the flap.

“I’ll check in on you before I leave the green,” he said, his hand on the zipper to close her in. “Make sure none of the delinquents in town shave-cream your tent while you’re sleeping.”

“No, don’t.” She laughed. “I snore.”

“I know,” he said, and zipped the flap closed. Benny flopped backwards, covering her eyes with her arm and letting the happiness fill her. Outside her tent, Dan whistled as he walked away.

Each Wildflower's Heart

Night never lasted so long. His shift on the Green ended at midnight, but Dan hadn’t gone right home. Half an hour with Benny had juiced him up like twelve cups of Cuban coffee. He stayed until two, talking with the attendant watching over the amusements, joking with old friends, checking in on Benny snoring away in her tent. Dan imagined her, wrapped up in her ratty hoodie, and had to force himself not to unzip the flap and crawl in there with her. He’d pushed too hard, too fast once. He wasn’t making the same mistake twice.

At home, he looked in on Evelyn—just in case—and went to bed. Half an hour later, Dan was still wide awake. He showered, got back into bed, but whenever he closed his eyes, he was kissing Benny again, feeling her body pressed to his, her arms around his neck, her hands in his hair. The itch under his skin became a burn. He got back into the shower, but cold water didn’t banish the burn, and taking care of the burn didn’t banish the itch. As dawn lightened the sky and he was about to give up, slumber finally fell on him. Hard.

“Hey.” A familiar voice. A hand smacking his butt. “Big man. Aren’t you supposed to be grand marshalling some tractor pull at the picnic?”

Dan lifted his groggy head, blinked away the dream just as it was getting good.

“Dan. Wake up. You’re late.”

He bolted upright, grabbed his cell. After ten o’clock, and three missed messages. Scrolling through them, he blew out a relieved breath. Nothing from Benny telling him he needn’t bother to find her if he couldn’t be on time. They were all from Charlie, who filled in for him at the registration booth for the tractor pull, but had to jet because Johanna was judging the pie-baking contest and if he missed it, he’d end up in her next batch of shepherds-pie-pies.

“Dammit,” he grumbled, tossing aside the sheets and texting Charlie back.

“Dan, gross. Cover that thing, will you?”

“Huh?” He glanced down. “Oh, sorry.” He thumped into the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the sink, calling, “Can you toast me a bagel or something while I get ready?”

“Sure. How’d it go with Benny?”

Dan stuck his half-lathered face out of the bathroom. “She’s going to the picnic with me today. I have to buy her cotton candy though. That was the deal.”

“Make sure you check your bank balance before swiping your card for that one.” Evelyn chuckled at her own joke and started away.

“You okay, sis?” Dan asked. She turned back.

“I am, Danny. Thanks.”

Danny. His heart did a little flip in his chest. Only his mother ever called him Danny, and only at home. He nodded to his sister and she smiled in return before leaving him to his preparations. In twenty minutes, he had to be in Young’s Field just north of the Green to oversee the tractor pull. Thankfully, he still had Benny’s cell number stored in his phone. He hoped she had hers on her.

Slept late. All your fault…

He blew out a breath. Delete. Delete. Delete. Funny was safe. Benny deserved better than safe.

Overslept. Was dreaming of you. Will see you at the food concessions for lunch after the tractor pull. ??

As he thundered down the steps to the kitchen, his cell buzzed.

Glad to know you think of me, pal. Hope there was no sock involved in that dreaming. If there was, you at least owe me dinner.

Dan checked the number. Charlie’s not Benny’s. He forwarded the first message to her before he lost his nerve, then, snickering softly to himself, he texted Charlie back.

I need two socks for you, buddy. Make sure Benny got the message I just sent her, will you?

Will do.

Dan tucked his cell in his pocket, sailed through the kitchen and grabbed the toasted bagel Evelyn was holding out to him. Backing down the driveway, he almost ran into an unfamiliar car. It stopped. Dan honked and waved but the car backed up and the driver waved him out. Nondescript sedan. Out-of-state plates. An obvious rental. In his rear-view, as he pulled away, the car turned into his driveway. “Shit.”

He slammed his palm against the wheel, but Dan didn’t turn back.

* * * *

Overslept. Was dreaming of you…

She felt like a teenager getting a note from her secret crush. Until reading Dan’s text, Benny hadn’t realized she was waiting for it. For him. She’d been up since dawn with the bleating lambs and Savannah’s delivery of fresh scones from CC’s. She checked the program listing for the tractor pull. It started at eleven. No end time. Though she told herself ‘lunch at the concessions’ was too vague a time for her grumbling belly, the lie didn’t convince the thrills chasing over her skin. Benny couldn’t wait to see him. She wanted to see his smile bloom when he saw her. She wanted to feel that amazing tumbling in her belly when she saw him. It was a beautiful day, and she was so full of hope, Benny was pretty certain she could shoot sunbeams and rainbows from her fingertips if she tried.

“Savvy, if you don’t need me, I’m heading over to the tractor pull.”

“You’ve done enough,” Savannah said. “Go. I’ve been telling you to go for hours.”

Benny tossed her hoodie into the tent she left up, grabbed her helmet, and started for her scooter. The deep furrow of Savannah’s brow stopped her short. “Again? These headaches are getting way more frequent, Savvy.”

“It’s only my allergies are starting early,” Savannah answered. “It’ll pass.”

“You know it’s not allergies,” Benny scolded. “You’ve been getting them for as long as I’ve known you. And they’re getting worse.”

A buzzing careened around and through Benny’s head. She swatted at it. “Damn. What was that?”

“Another fly?”

“They give me the willies. That buzzing goes right through me.” She shook it off, then, “Please go to the doctor.”

“I’ve been. Before I ever came to Bitterly. I have a friend, back in Georgia, a neuro-surgeon who worries about me even more than you do. She couldn’t find anything wrong, and believe me, she looked. But I’ll take something for it, okay?”

“Okay. I guess.”

“Go enjoy the tractor pull.” Savannah kissed her cheek. “And your day with Dan.”

Instead of recoiling and hushing her as she would have a week ago, Benny waved and dashed to her scooter, leaving her boss’s headache and the willies behind her.

Though Young’s Field was no more than a few minutes from the Green, it took Benny twice what it should have to get there. As sleepy a town as Bitterly was most of the time, events like Village Harvest Fair, the carol sing at Christmas, and the Fourth of July brought in every resident, full and part time, as well as visitors from the surrounding area. She contemplated riding on the sidewalk or weaving between cars, but Benny didn’t have it in her to be so reckless these days. Henny wouldn’t have thought twice about it. And look what it got him.

She gasped, scolding the unkind, angry voice in her head, as if made any difference. Anger was an uncalled-for emotion, considering the price he paid. It didn’t stop these angry bursts now and then, though, or the fact that it felt good to be angry with him. Parking her scooter at the far end of the field, she tried to remember the combination to the lock she almost never used. She walk-trotted to the announcer’s booth, leaving Henny’s ghost determinedly behind. She conjured Dan, of how he made her laugh, of how he made her feel safe and special and beautiful, of how she would tell him about their baby before the day was done.

She spotted his blonde head in the announcer’s booth, a microphone to his lips. His words crackled static. “Virgil Morris, get your dog off the field!”

Benny craned her neck to see over the crowd, and got a glimpse of Virgil Morris the younger struggling to get the dog off the tractor tire he was trying very hard to kill.

“Guess we ought to be glad he’s ferocious and not amorous,” Dan said into the mic. “Kids, make sure to ask your parents what that means when you get home.”

Groans and laughter rose up from the crowd. Benny shouldered her way to the booth just as the tractor engine roared to life. Dan didn’t see her climb over the side of the booth or slip up behind him to put her arms around his waist.