Confessions: words (almost) never said
Ben ignores his conscience for a solid three weeks before it really starts getting to him.
He could ignore the nagging feeling. Telling himself “Well, she left. I️ don’t have to say sorry first. She started this whole thing,” and dismissing the quiet voice reminding him that *he* was the one that ignored her texts and phone calls.
And then, it happens. He’s physically sick from the building anxiety he’s pressed down, and he can’t take it anymore.
“We have a problem,” Eb seethed through gritted teeth.
“No, *you* have a problem. *I* have an idiot who keeps getting into one.” Jacob retorted, cutting Eb off before he could continue. “You picked a fight with Flora. *Not. Me.*” he turns, sighs, and continues. “Ben, that was by far the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen you do.”
Ben gapes at Jacob, slack jawed. When he doesn’t say anything, Jacob continues. “Was she wrong in pointing out your obsession with your job? Or that you led her on-“
“I️ didn’t lead her on!” Ben interjects, offended.
“Whether you meant to or not, it’s happened, man. And quite frankly, you blew it.”
Ben inhales through his nose in a desperate attempt to calm himself.
He opens his mouth to respond, but Jacob holds up a hand to stop him.
“I️ don’t want to be in the middle of this, Bernard. This isn’t my mess. You’re not going to listen to me right now because you still think you’re right and she’s wrong. In my opinion, you’re both wrong, but you’re wronger. Come find me when you’ve gotten your head out of your butt.” And Jacob walks out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, closing the door.
Ben, left alone, stomps out of the kitchen and just barely keeps from slamming the door of his own room.
Ben gulps as he grips the steering wheel of his car. It takes all his courage to unbuckle, push the door open, and walk up to the dormitory door.
“Here goes,” he thinks as his hand thunks against the door. The laughter on the other side rises, and he has to knock harder so someone will come open the door.
There’s a rustling, and then the door opens. The girl has her face turned away from him, still talking with the others.
“I️ know, right? I️ told him he needed to find a different way to de stress. I️ recommended screaming in harmony with the vacuum.”
“Who are you, and what do you want?” She asks again, arms crossing over her chest.
He glances over her shoulder, hoping to see Flora, but she leans in the same direction to block him from seeing into the living room of the dorm.
“I’m Ben,” he tells her lamely, meeting her eyes.
The girl stares him up and down. Criticizing him. He tries not to squirm under her gaze. He can’t help but think of a guard dog with her attitude.
It feels like an eternity passes, but really it’s only a few seconds. Kat looks Ben up and down, taking in his pressed button down shirt, tie, and jeans.
She sucks her teeth, uncrossing her arms.
“Wait here.” Kat turns on her heel and slips back into the dorm, closing the door behind herself.
The laughter that had continued at a lower volume stops abruptly when the door closes, and it’s a full three minutes before the door opens again.
Flora slips out and closes the door behind her.
She’s difficult to read, a first for Ben. Flora’s always worn her emotions on her face.
“What do you want, Bernard?”
While there’s no venom, malice, even frustration in her tone or face, he’s stung by her question.
He swallows, spit thick in his mouth. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She stares at him, her arms pulling the yellow cardigan taught around herself.
He offers the flowers he brought to her. A small bouquet of lily of the valley.
He feels another eternity pass as he watches the flowers in his hand. Wonders if she’ll even take them from him, and almost lets out a sigh of relief when she does. She doesn’t touch him, however; only takes the proffered flowers and sets them on the cement beside the door, then wraps herself in the yellow sweater-shield again.
“Do you mean it?” Flora asks, and Ben looks back into her eyes. “Or are you only here because you feel sorry for yourself?”
She turns away from him, stoops to pick up the flower pot, and puts her hand on the doorknob.
“You know, I️ loved you, Eb. They say that you can’t love someone unless you love yourself first. Well, that’s bull. I️ don’t always love myself. But I loved you so much I️ forgot what hating myself was like. You were my *best friend.* I️ would have been okay if you didn’t feel the same way for me. But not talking to me for *three weeks* and randomly showing up at my dorm with *flowers* and all you can say is “I️’m sorry?”
He stands there lamely, waiting for her to continue.
The door opens, but Flora doesn’t go back inside. She hands off the flowers to the same girl that had interrogated Eb.
“Kat, will you take this, please? We’re going for a walk. My phone’s on. Call me if I’m not back in fifteen minutes.”
Flora stalks past him down the sidewalk, and when he doesn’t follow, she turns back to him.
“Are you going to stand there all night, or are we going to have an actual conversation?”
She leads him to a bench a little way from the dormitory building, and sits down, as far to one side as she can be without sitting on the arm.
He gingerly sits down at the other end, angled towards her.
“I️ don’t want you to talk, Ben. I️ need you to listen. Without replying. Or listening in order to make your next move.”
She sighs, a shuddery, almost-sob.
“I️ didn’t want to forgive you. You hurt me, Ben. Not just because I️ felt led on. I️ apologized to you for raising my voice and putting you on the spot, and you just stood there. Staring at me. So I️ left. I️ tried again before I️ left for college. You didn’t even answer the door. Or the phone. Or texts. For three. Weeks.”
“What makes this different, Eb?”
He sits. Opens his mouth once or twice. But nothing comes out.
He can hear their watches tick seconds by, not quite in tandem.
Flora shifts, and impulsively, Ben reaches for her hand.
She glances down at his hand over hers, but doesn’t pull away.
“I️ stepped down from the manager position, Flo.”
“I️ knew you were right about my putting the new authority on a pedestal. I️ didn’t want to admit it. And I️ acted like an ass to you.”
He squeezes her hand in his lightly before continuing.
“I️ asked Scott to let me allocate some of the extra duties to Curtis, and he agreed.”
“I️’m also sorry that I️ inadvertently led you on. I️ really didn’t mean to.”
He lets go of her hand, and she curls back into herself.
“I️ accept your apology,” Flora says, and Ben realizes she’s crying.
“Ben. Don’t. Just don’t. It’s not helping.”
“Yes, he’s still here. No, I️ don’t need you to- no. Kat, I️— fine. Okay.”
And the phone disappears back into the yellow cardigan’s cavernous pockets.
Ben hands her a handkerchief from his back jeans pocket. Flora whispers a thanks, and rubs under her eyes with a corner.
That one word held all of Flora’s frustration and grief, and after it escaped, she sobbed, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face in her arms.
He cautiously put his hand on her arm, and when she didn’t flinch, tugged gently. She allowed him to slide closer, moving her knees across his, and putting his arm around her.
“I missed you.”he says quietly, more in her hair than her ear.
“I️ missed you,” she sniffs, leaning her head on his shoulder.
There’s a harrumph behind him, and he and Flora look up to see Kat standing with her arms crossed.
“Will y’all at least have the decency to look embarrassed?”
All Ben manages is confusion, but Flora rights herself, and hands Ben’s handkerchief back.
“You-“ she points at Ben- “you hurt her EVER again, I’ll pulverize you.”
“And you-“ she points at Flora “-you let him prove he wants you as a friend. Don’t let him run over top of you again.”
As they walk back to Flora’s dorm, Ben asks “Is she always so..”
Flora laughs, but Ben knows it’s not a real laugh.
“Kat can be overprotective. I’ll tell her to back off.”
“Nah. She’s looking out for her friend.”
