When I’m With You by Sandi Lynn

Chapter 2

Ben

I was a fireman for the Los Angeles Fire Department. It was something I’d wanted to be ever since my mom bought me my first fire truck at the age of six. Now, twenty-three years later, I was doing a job I loved. My wife, Amy, passed away almost a year ago. I thought about her every single day and I still hadn’t had the courage to clean out her things from the house. Our closet still housed all her beautiful clothes and our bathroom still had all her makeup in it. I missed her like hell and hated God for taking her away from me. I was angry, bitter, and lost without her in my life. My mom told me that I needed to seek counseling, but the only thing a counselor was going to do was tell me that I needed to move on with my life and, little by little, the thought of Amy would disappear. I didn’t want her to disappear. My memories. Our memories were all I had left, and I was holding on with every last breath I had. Cancer had taken her and our dreams away.

I was sitting in the garage doing the second thing I loved, building furniture, when the house door opened, and Finn was standing there.

“Hey, bro, I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me and Olivia later. We’re going to that new art gallery over on Sunset that just opened.”

“Nah. I can’t tonight.”

He walked over and ran his hand across the desk I had half finished. “Are you ever going to finish this?” he asked.

“I don’t know. There’s really no point now.”

The desk was something I started when Amy was first diagnosed with cancer. I was making it for her as a Christmas present. She always complained about the old ratty one we already had and wanted something bigger. She’d seen the one she liked in an antique store we visited when we were in Maine. I took a photo and began to duplicate it. She never knew about it. I kept it hidden in the corner of the garage with a sheet covering it when I wasn’t working on it. Since she passed, I never saw the purpose to finish it.

Finn, my twenty-seven-year-old brother, had been trying to get me out of the house since Amy died. I had no interest in going out. Being a fireman and building furniture was all I needed. The one place I did go to was the Sunset Bar. It was the place Amy and I went every Friday night for fish and chips. Now, instead of sitting at a table, I sat up at the bar.

“You’ve never not finished anything you started, Ben. It’s not like you.”

“Things are different now. I’m different now and I see no reason to finish the damn desk. So can we please move on to a different subject?” I said as nicely as possible.

“You’re not different, bro. You’re the same brother I’ve known my entire life. Your circumstances changed, not you. I gotta go. Olivia’s getting off work early and we’re going to dinner before we head to the art gallery. If you change your mind, call me.”

“Thanks, but I won’t be changing my mind,” I said as I carefully sanded the top of a table I was building.

* * *

“Evening, Ben,” Damian, the bartender, said.

“Hey, Damian.”

“Usual?”

“Yep. Just like every other Friday.”

I sat on the barstool and grabbed a few peanuts from the bowl that he set in front of me. Since Amy and I were regulars, Damian got to know us, and when she became sick, he paid her a visit in the hospital. After Amy passed, and I still came into the bar every Friday night, he would put a reserved sign on the counter in front of the stool. I knew everyone in the place. I was the man they all felt sorry for; the twenty-nine-year-old guy that lost his wife to cancer. As I picked up the beer bottle and brought it up to my mouth, a man took a seat next to me.

“How about them Kings,” he said.

“They just might make it into the playoffs,” I said as I took a swig of beer.

“Here’s hoping they do.” He smiled as he held up his beer bottle.

I finished up my fish and chips and continued to have a small conversation with the guy next to me.