Page 64 of Pity Present
Ben claps his hands excitedly. “Can we get one with the singing animals, too?” Ah, the chipmunks.
“We can take pictures wherever you want to,” I tell him.
I wind up spending the entire afternoon with Ben and his family. After we went zip-lining—where I also took a bunch of videos—I snapped pictures of them building a snowman, having a snowball fight, and making snow angels. When we finally went back inside, we ordered hot chocolate and warmed up by the fire.
Not only did I have a wonderful day, but I was grateful to get out of my head for a while. After two cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream, I air drop the pictures of the day to Ward and Francie’s phones.
Ben walks over to me and whispers, “What about the picture frame?”
“How long will you be here?” I ask him.
He turns to his parents. “How many more days are we going to be here?”
Ward holds up three fingers. Leaning down so that my mouth is right by Ben’s ear, I tell him, “I’ll have it for you in two days.”
His smile is electric. Opening his arms, he leans in and gives me a hug. “Thanks, Molly. You’re the best!”
After saying goodbye to Ben and his parents, I go back up to my room to get ready for tonight’s mixer. I wasn’t excited about it this morning, but I feel like my day has been spent getting perspective on what’s important in life. And more than anything, I’d love to be part of a happy family someday.
The only way to accomplish that is to meet somebody to share that family with.
CHAPTER THIRTY
BLAKE
For tonight’s get-together, we’re meeting in the ballroom for square dancing. I’ve loved country music since the square-dancing segment we had in middle school gym class. It was hands-down my favorite.
After putting on a pair of jeans and pairing it with a flannel shirt, I look in the mirror and realize that all that’s missing is a cowboy hat and boots. Other than that, I could pass for that country singer Cody Johnson.
I decide that tonight I’m going to go down to the mixer ahead of the crowd. I want to make sure that I’m there before Molly shows up. I don’t know how I’m going to get her to talk to me, but I have a couple of ideas.
On my way to the elevator, I see Ben’s family again. I’m no longer surprised by how often we run into each other. “Ben!” I greet him. “You look like you’ve had a busy day.” This is the first time I’m seeing him without a hat on and sure enough, he’s bald.
“I went zip-lining!” he tells me excitedly.
“That’s a lot of fun, isn’t it?” I reach a hand toward Ben’s dad and introduce myself. “I’m Blake.”
He smiles knowingly. “Francie told me. It’s really nice what you’re trying to do for us.”
“What’s he doing?” Ben wants to know.
“It’s a surprise,” Francie says. Then she tells her husband, “Why don’t you take Ben to our room. I’ll be there in just a minute.”
After they leave, Francie tells me, “I just want you to know that I’m not holding you to the whole Bulls tickets thing.”
“I talked to my boss,” I tell her. “And things look promising. I just need your phone number so I can let you know what date your tickets are for, and we can set up how I’m going to get them to you.”
Francie looks like she’s about to cry. “I don’t know what we’ve done to deserve people doing such nice things for us, but I’m very grateful.”
“I’m not doing much,” I tell her, “but I have an inkling of what your family is going through.” Before emotion clogs my throat, I tell her, “My little brother died when he was only three.”
Francie takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. Several moments pass before she lets it go. “Thank you, Blake.” That’s all she says before she walks off to join her husband and son.
Life is so fragile; you never know how much time you have. As such, it seems horribly frivolous to waste even a moment. Suddenly, Molly is all I can think about, and I can’t wait to go downstairs to see her.
When I get to the ballroom, I discover they’ve done their best to make it feel less elegant and more rustic. There are bales of hay stacked around the room, and the tables are covered in red-checked gingham cloths. They even have a table full of cowboy hats for us to use. I pick up a black Stetson, and it fits perfectly.
Molly walks into the room looking like she didn’t get the country western memo. She’s wearing another cocktail dress. This one is a black sleeveless number. I’m glad to see that her back is covered because I did not like the stares she was getting when she wore that sexy blue number.
