Page 66 of Hell Bent (Portland Devils #5)

“Because,” I said, “I want us both to have that family. I want you to know you can count on me. I want you to know, all the way down deep, that I’m not just waiting until you’re eighteen so I won’t be responsible for you anymore. I know how that feels, and I don’t want that for you.”

“Wow,” Ben said. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

I had to laugh. “Yeah. It’s a lot, but then, we’ve been through a lot.

And before you say anything, I know it’s not going to be smooth sailing.

I remember being a teenager, and man, it wasn’t easy, even before my dad got sick.

It helps to have a parent, though. Somebody to kick your ass and set limits you don’t like, but also somebody you can count on to back you up and bail you out and keep you more or less on track.

And actually care about you. That helps.

Keep in mind that I have zero experience at parenting and grade me on the curve, OK? ”

“OK,” Ben said. Seeming stunned, honestly.

“So that’s it. My speech.” I stood up. “Let’s head back to the car and order some food.”

“This would be an excellent night,” Ben said, getting off the bench, “for burgers.”

“Pushing your luck,” I said, and this time, he laughed.

Miracle. “Oh,” I remembered as we began walking again.

“School. Here’s my thought about that. I don’t want you to start somewhere and then have to change schools, so you may have to keep going with Thomas a little longer until we figure out the best one. ”

“You don’t get to figure out the best one,” Ben said. “You go where you live. Dude. You really have forgotten about being a teenager.”

“Well, there’s private school,” I pointed out.

“Or public school out in the suburbs, I guess, if we moved there. That’s where Annabelle went.

I’m not sure what you’re leaning toward, career-wise, but it seems like math might feature in there, and maybe science.

Someplace with good math and science instruction, then, because Thomas says you’re doing good and that you need challenge.

Sports, too. Running. Computers. Whatever you’re into. Whatever we decide matters most.”

“I don’t want to live out in the middle of nowhere,” Ben said. “If you’re asking me. ”

“I am asking you. I like being in the city, too, but maybe not the Pearl District. Maybe someplace with more …”

“Personality?” Ben said. “And Lexi’d rather have a yard so she can chase balls and stuff. But private school’s really expensive. I know my mom said there was money for college, but?—”

I said, “That’s another thing I need to do, sit down with you and go through the finances so you know where you stand, but it’s another one that’s going to have to wait until after the season.

I know that’s not ideal, but I can’t do much about it.

There’s a lot. Deciding what to do with the Vancouver house, because that’s yours.

Deciding where we want to live and where you want to go to school.

” Some more hesitation. “Deciding what you want to do with your mom’s ashes. ”

Ben said, “Oh.”

“Yeah. I could decide, but I’m her brother. You’re her son. Unless you want me to do it for you, we should probably talk this one out together.”

“Geez.”

“It’s a lot,” I agreed. “Took me a while to put all the pieces together myself, which is one reason I haven’t brought all this up. Also, until the other day, it was?—”

“In the future,” Ben said.

“Exactly. In the future. It felt like burying her early.”

Ben didn’t answer, just hunched his shoulders and bobbed his head, and I said, “So are you OK to hang out with Thomas until we figure this stuff out?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Thomas is cool. Now that I know it’s not forever.”

I put an arm over his shoulders, and he didn’t stiffen up.

“It’s not forever. Though it can sure feel like it when you’re going through it.

There’s a thing they say about grieving somebody.

‘The only way out is through.’ I didn’t know about that for a long time.

Nobody to tell me, or nobody I was listening to.

You’ve got to go ahead and have the feelings.

Feel bad, feel sad, feel mad. Go running, like Alix said.

Box, lift weights, whatever gets those feelings out.

Get some therapy, maybe, talk to a guy. We could do that.

If you just stuff it all down and be mad, or party too much, or get paid too much for playing soccer and do all those things, it doesn’t tend to work out well.

You can’t go around it or fly over it. You’ve gotta go through it. ”

“Sucks,” Ben said.

“You bet it sucks.” I took my arm away. Better not smother the kid. “Think you can manage a flight to Baltimore, though? I’d sure like it better if you and Alix were there.”

“Yeah. But I think you should do the tickets this time so we can go first class.”

“One private jet,” I said. “One. And you’re already in the caviar club.”

“Dude,” Ben said. “No. I mean Alix. She’s your girlfriend, and she’s sick, or hurt, or whatever you call that thing she has, and it’s a long way. Plus, it’s cheap, having her fly back there like that.”

“You aren’t wrong,” I said. “On either thing. OK. Here’s what we do. We blame it on you.”

He blinked. “What?”

“She doesn’t want to take it from me. You’ve heard her. I’m going to say that I want to give you a better time than that, considering the week you’ve had, so would she please fly up front with you. And you’d better back me up.”

“OK,” he said. “I can do that.”

“Good. And by the way? Private school?” We’d reached the car, and I bumped the lock and climbed inside as Lexi jumped into the back—I was going to have to wash that seat cover again, because no dog could carry more mud than a Golden Retriever—and Ben got into the front beside me and clipped his seatbelt without my asking.

“Private school,” he said. “I told you. It’s really expensive. Plus, what if the kids are, like, snobby?”

“We’ll visit them,” I said, putting the car in gear. “We’ll research. Schools, neighborhoods. We’ll find out. Your school’s a priority, and we’ll make it one. Private school, or public. Whichever seems best. Group decision.”

“Expensive,” he reminded me. “Thomas told me that the good public schools here are in rich places. The U.S. is weird that way. In Canada, we figure everybody should get educated, you know?”

“Fortunately,” I said, pulling out from the curb, “I am rich. So we’ll count our blessings and figure it out.”