3. Benji

BENJI

As the snow danced merrily outside the window, I furiously paced the floorboards of the BnB’s foyer in time with Ella Fitzgerald’s “ Winter Wonderland ,” the record skipping slightly with every step I took.

“Sugar-child, you need to be a little gentler on those floorboards,” said Aunt Bea from across the room. “You’re giving poor Ella the hiccups.”

Bea was shimmering in Christmas bling. Her earrings were gold baubles, her tiara was made out of fake diamonds in the shape of snowflakes, and on the tippy-toes of her bright red high-heeled boots were bells that jingled every time she crossed her legs.

She was sitting on the couch in the foyer, filing her nails and occasionally flicking the pages of the magazine in her lap as she waited impatiently for Clarry’s weekly ice cream delivery. “Do you think I should get my hair done like Jennifer Aniston? Timothée Chalamet… marry, fuck, kill… discuss. Oh look, Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck got married again…” She turned the page… “And divorced again.”

She closed the magazine and checked her watch again. “Where is that sweet little ice-cream scoop of a boy? He’s never late with his deliveries. At this rate I don’t know which will wear down sooner, my nails or your floorboards.”

“Who knows?” I said, continuing to pace as Ella skipped another lyric. “Clarry’s got a boyfriend now. That changes everything. He’s distracted. He’s happy. He’s got everything he ever wanted.”

“Oh honey-pie, don’t fool yourself into thinking relationships are all daffodils and dildos. It takes compromise and commitment and hard work, and a good screaming match once in a while. Trust me, I know.”

My arms folded defensively across my chest. “I gave my relationship all those things, and it still didn’t work out for me. And now he’s coming back! My own parents have invited him back for Christmas! What the fuck were they thinking?”

Outside, we both heard the ring-a-ding-ding of Clarry’s ice-cream cart.

Aunt Bea jumped up so fast it gave Ella Fitzgerald more than just hiccups; the needle skipped right off the record and “ Winter Wonderland ” came to a prompt conclusion.

“Quick! Hide me! Hide me!” she panicked. “Nobody can ever know about my obsession with Clarry’s ice cream, it’s my one and only vice… aside from truck drivers in lace panties, but you never heard that from me. A lady never lets her weaknesses show. Like my Grammy always said—keep churning that butter, no matter how bad your hands blister. Of course, I think she was talking about the actual blisters on her hands from churning butter and not any kind of hankering for ice cream, but then again, she never tasted Clarry’s ice cream. Oh God, just the thought of his Irresistible Raspberry Ripple is making me froth at the mouth and ruin my lipstick!” Bea turned to me with desperation in her eyes. “You’re the only one who knows this side of me, Benji. Hide me, quick. And get the spoons ready!”

I hid Aunt Bea behind a curtain, which was no mean feat given her height.

There came the ding-dong of the doorbell.

Behind the drape, Bea jittered anxiously.

“Keep still,” I whispered. “The bells on your toes are a dead giveaway.”

“Oh, the price we pay for fashion!”

“Shhh! I’m letting Clarry in.”

I stepped over to the door and opened it to find not just Clarry standing on the porch, but River as well. “It’s your Merry Christmas delivery!” they said in unison, each of them holding up two tubs of ice cream in their gloved hands.

“Hey boys! Oh yum! I can’t wait to try it.” I noticed the snowfall getting heavier outside. “Come on in out of the cold.”

As Clarry and River wiped their feet and stepped into the foyer, I closed the door behind them.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing my new delivery boy with me,” Clarry said, his eyes giving a flirty flutter at his boyfriend. “Delivering ice cream can be like lugging blocks of ice sometimes. River’s muscles come in handy.”

“I bet they do,” I said, unable to stop myself from ogling River’s pecs and biceps which bulged even through the layers of his clothes. “You’re a lucky guy, Clarry.”

“I sure am,” Clarry gushed. “Everything’s just peachy these days… and so is my latest flavor, Peach and Pecan Pandemonium. I’ve brought you a gallon of it, along with a tub of Honey-Bunch Hurly-Burly, Frosty Choc-Fudge Flurry, and Red Velvet Ritz Blitz in honor of my dear friend Mavis and the movie theater I loved so much.”

“Is it true that you guys are thinking of rebuilding the Ritz yourselves?” I asked, trying not to sound jealous of the life they seemed to be building together.

River glanced at Clarry and they exchanged a smile. “It’s the worst kept secret in town, we know. But yeah, that’s our plan. We’re going to have an ice creamery in the foyer, and we’ll play all of Clarry’s favorites, but there’s going to be one rule.”

“What’s that?”

“Every movie we show has to have a happy ending.”

River looked at Clarry when he said it, and the two gave each other a tender kiss on the lips. It was a moment that needed the strings of a harp playing in the background, or the gentle swell of a choir, or even—

“Do I hear bells jingling?” Clarry asked, pulling out of the kiss, looking around curiously. “Are those bells hanging from the bottom of that curtain?”

“No! Those bells are hanging from me! ” Suddenly the curtains were yanked open, revealing Aunt Bea with a ravenous look on her face. “Dear God, just hand me that tub of Frosty Choc-Fudge Flurry and pretend you never saw me!”

Clarry and River stared wide-eyed, both stunned and confused.

“Aunt Bea?” asked Clarry as Bea stumbled toward him, her gaze fixed on the ice-cream tubs. “What are you doing behind that curtain?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m hiding my shame. I’m skulking behind a veil of indignity. I’m doing everything I can to battle the demons inside me. But when you speak so flippantly of fudge and peaches, then that battle is over. The demons won, and I’m glad for it. Like my Grammy always said as she pushed everyone aside on her way to the cookhouse—comin’ through! This girl’s gotta eat!”

Clarry flinched as Bea snatched a tub from his hands and flipped off the lid.

With flared nostrils, she inhaled the sweet scent of the ice cream wafting from the tub.

Her eyelids flittered uncontrollably.

Her eyeballs rolled back into her head.

And before I had a chance to call an exorcist, she said in an otherworldly voice, “Spoons! We need spoons!”

I looked at Clarry and River and said, “Well, I guess Aunt Bea’s secret is out. She’s a junkie for your ice cream, Clarry. Wanna join us for a scoop… or a tub?”

Clarry beamed with delight. “Fudgsicles, yes!”

He shot a look at River, searching for his consent.

River simply shrugged amiably. “Why not? Whatever makes you happy, babe.”

Together, the four of us headed briskly into the big old kitchen of the BnB, led by Aunt Bea whose bells jingled all the way. There we huddled around the kitchen table with our tubs of ice cream like some weird version of the Golden Girls from an alternate universe.

Clarry and River passed out the ice cream and we all flipped off the lids and started digging in. If anyone had heard the moans of pleasure filling the room, they would have thought there was a lot more going on than simply sampling Clarry’s new flavors, but anyone who had ever tasted Clarry’s ice creams would have known better.

“Divine!” Aunt Bea groaned. “Glorious! Superb! Sinful yet heavenly!”

“Thank you.” Clarry blushed.

“It almost makes the world a better place,” I said.

“Almost?” River asked. He noticed my dampened mood. “Benji? What’s up? You okay there pal?”

“Not really,” Aunt Bea answered for me. “His parents have invited his ex, Bastian, to spend the holidays here in Mulligan’s Mill. Benji and Bastian haven’t seen each other in over three years, not since—”

“Can we please not talk about it?” I cut in.

River put down his spoon. “I think we should. My old man does some things that drive me nuts, but we’ve started talking. We talk more now than we ever did. And I gotta say, it helps.”

“Oh, trust me, nothing can help me now. My parents have completely lost their minds. I think they’re setting up some elaborate plan to get me and Bastian back together again, but it’s not going to work. How could it possibly work? This is the man who ruined my life! He fooled me into thinking I was already living my happily-ever-after, we were about to open up the business of our dreams, we were this close to having it all. Everything was perfect, or at least as close to perfect as anyone could ever want things to be. Then suddenly he turned his back and left. No warning signs, no explanations, nothing but a note that simply read ‘I’m sorry.’ Sometimes your heart breaks so badly, there’s no amount of glue that’s ever gonna put it back together again. For weeks I tried calling him, but he never answered a single message I left. When I wasn’t crying, I was smashing things we’d bought together, or just staring at the door, waiting for him to come home. But those days ended long ago. At some point I pulled myself together and I decided I never wanted to see his face again. Then I found out that my parents have stayed in touch with him all this time. They call each other, they talk on the phone like they’re old friends, and now they’ve invited him home for Christmas. I mean, what the fuck were they thinking? Do they not get what Bastian did to me? Do they not understand how much he hurt me? They’re acting like nothing happened, that he never left, that he never reached into my chest and ripped out my heart and left nothing but a note saying he was sorry.” I drew a long, tremulous sigh. “He was sorry? Really?”

Beside me, Aunt Bea reached into her cleavage and pulled out a lace handkerchief. “Oh, sweet child, dry them tears. They’re leaking into your peaches and pecans.”

Softly she dabbed my face.

I didn’t even realize I was crying. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a downer. I’m just feeling all the hurt and anger and confusion rushing back. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m ready to see him again.” I paused, and before I could stop the words from leaving my lips, I heard myself utter, “Worst of all, despite it all, I don’t know if I ever stopped loving him.”

I took the handkerchief from Bea and pressed it hard against my eyes, soaking up the tears as I said, “Is it even possible to love someone and still hate them this much?”

As I sat there, crying into Bea’s lace handkerchief, I felt her hand squeeze my left forearm.

I felt Clarry’s hand squeeze my right forearm.

I felt River wrap his strong arm around my shoulders as he got up from his chair, and the three of them pulled me into a group hug.

In that moment, we were indeed that weird version of the Golden Girls from an alternate universe.

“Let it out, my precious lovelorn unicorn,” Bea said. “Perhaps your sweet parents have lost their minds. Then again, perhaps there’s a method to their madness. No matter the narrative that seems to be unfolding around you, I think you owe it to your parents to let them hear your side of this story. As River said, talk to them. It might just help. In the meantime, let yourself do all the crying and hurting and hating and loving that you need to do.” She picked up my spoon, took a big scoop of Clarry’s Red Velvet Ritz Blitz and raised it to my lips. “Then wash it all down with some ice cream. Everything’s better with ice cream.”

I managed a smile.

Then let that smooth, soothing ice cream slide down the hatch.