Four

A day before the week ended, I got a knock on my door from a few tech guys from the telecommunication company; they were there to install the internet router.

After they had successfully installed it, I automatically plunged into reading a digital copy of the book Luke sent me from my lawyers. I spent the whole morning reading my rights and how to proceed with the case. At thirty, I was the first person in my circle of friends who was getting a divorce.

In the email, the lawyer also advised me to hire a different person who specialized in the field. A sour look loomed over my face, and I held up my hand in defeat. When I first thought of filing the papers after that day, I decided on doing most of the work myself. But now I knew it was conceited of me for being overconfident.

I picked up my cell phone and quickly went through my contacts, looking for the only person I knew who could help me in this situation. When I found the name, I quickly pressed the call button. Unfortunately, it rang twice before someone picked it up.

“So, it seemed you’ve gotten in that hard head of yours to finally call me.” An all too familiar voice answered with sarcasm, giving me a little flashback of when I was young and used to call her whenever I got into trouble.

“Hello, Aunt Solane. I’m sorry I hadn’t called in a while,” I replied in defeat, trying to get her sympathy.

“It’s okay, Kyle. After not seeing you for almost three months now, I think I’d grown accustomed to not hearing your voice.” She pointed out dryly, understanding the undertone of guilt that she pulled from me.

“Again, I’m sorry. I’d been busy with the new restaurant in Chicago,” I explained, trying to cool it off without sounding defensive.

“I understand, Kyle. I was there at the opening, and I know how busy you are. But at least, call me once a month.” She sighed.

“I will put it on top of the list of things I need to do every month,” I remarked cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.

“Always the charmer.” She cooed with a chuckle. “So, I assume you called me not to check in and apologize for not calling… and from the gossip magazine I’ve read, I think I should be sending you an expensive bottle of whiskey,” she said with an incisive tone.

“So you heard the news…”

“Why haven’t you called me about this? How long had this been going on between you two?”

“From what I know, for a while. The gossip magazines had implied it had gone on for years now. I feel so stupid for being oblivious. I mean, I noticed something but not this!” I abruptly stopped talking when I noticed my voice getting louder.

“Does your sister know about this?” she asked after a brief silence from my sudden outburst.

“No. I haven’t called Crissy yet, but she might know now after the news has spread.”

“Did you know before the press printed the article?”

“I did, and it so happened, when I found out, the paparazzi were there too.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I’d never wished this to happen with you or Cristine.”

There was a short pause as I let out a heavy sigh.

My Aunt Solane was my late father’s younger sister, and she became our legal guardian after my parents passed away. I was nine at that time, and my sister, Cristine, was five. Five years after my parent’s accident, her husband died, leaving her a widow at twenty-nine.

I looked up to her while growing up. Not once had she cracked after losing two important people in her life in five years. She kept my sister and me grounded and taught us to be each other’s strengths.

“Kyle, where are you now? From what I heard, you fled the city,” Aunt Sol asked worriedly.

“I’ve rented out Luke’s house across the country. So you don’t have to worry about me. Think that I’m on vacation.” I offered lightly, trying to pass it off as a joke.

“A portrait I couldn’t imagine.” She snickered in reply. “I’m glad Luke took care of you. You need to give that boy a raise and a vacation.”

“I think I promised him one of the two from our last conversation.”

“So, what do you need, Kyle? I will help you as much as I can,” she asked after a brief pause, returning to our topic.

“Thank you, Aunt Solane. I just need a good lawyer,” I answered somberly.

“Is that all, my dear?”

“Yes. I think so… for now.”

“One of my college friends works at a law firm specializing in that field. I could give her a call if you’d like.” Her voice carried confidence, giving me a bit of hope to pull through in this time of my life.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You only need to ask, my dear,” she stated lovingly. “If this was all you’re going to ask today, I have to end our conversation a bit earlier. My break is already over, and I have a trial at court.”

“Okay. Talk to you soon. Kick some justice at court today.” I cheered with a smile. I used the term she introduced to us when we were younger before she would take on a case.

“Take care, Kyle. Call back soon.” With that, our phone conversation ended.

Amidst the silence, I remembered what my aunt said about an image of me taking a vacation, and I tried to think of the day I last had one and couldn’t come up with a memory. But then, my thoughts were interrupted by my rumbling stomach. It was already noon and the only food I ate that morning was toast and jam.

After grabbing my phone, car keys, and jacket, I got in my rusty truck and drove toward town. As I passed by the bakeshop, I hastily studied the store window. I couldn’t clearly make out the inside of the shop, but I could pinpoint her silhouette. She was standing by the counter, as I had guessed, but I didn’t stop the car and continued driving until I reached the main town. After passing by two possible stores to eat, I parked the car on the same spot in front of Ms. Carol’s diner.

Carol greeted me with a welcoming smile once I walked in.

“Kyle! Joining us for lunch today?” she asked as she walked up to me with a pitcher of water in hand.

“Yes.” I paused and looked around the slightly packed room. “Is there an available booth I could sit in?”

“Sure. Follow me, dear.” She gestured toward the left side of the room, giving me a view of an empty booth, which I took.

The service was slower than usual, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I ate at my own pace and finished an hour later. After I paid, I was about to get in my truck when something caught my eye from across the street.

In front of what looked like a small convenience store was an old man whose hair was completely silver. He grabbed a huge box at the back of a pick-up truck that looked like mine. I studied the old man for a moment until I saw him placing the box back on the truck and briefly swinging his arm like it was numb.

I searched the empty street and crossed it out of impulse, heading directly toward him. Once I was a reasonable distance away, I hesitantly greeted him.

“Good afternoon, sir. Do you need help carrying those boxes?” I asked out of courtesy even though I knew he needed it.

The old man looked startled as he regarded my presence. “Oh, sonny. That would be such a great help. Thank you.”

“No problem, sir,” I replied as he stepped back. From there, I took his place and gauged the box’s weight.

“I advise you to lift with your knees. It’s a bit heavy,” the old man stated beside me.

“Got it.”

With a quick intake of breath, I lifted the box. After weighing it for a second, I realized it wasn’t that heavy.

“Where do you want this, sir?” I asked as I faced him.

“Inside the store. Right this way, son,” he said and gestured toward the store in front of the car.

I followed him inside, grunting as I jostled the box a little. As we entered the store, I quickly assessed the place. It looked generic like most convenience stores. The walls and ceiling were painted in washed-off white. There were shelves of goods, from canned goods to home amenities and hygienic products, and on the right side of the store were two well-stocked fridges.

“Place those here, sonny,” the old man called, snapping me out from gawking.

I turned and hurriedly headed toward where he stood at the back of the room. I put the box down beside a pile he gestured for me to place on, and I noticed at least five boxes of the same size placed on the floor. From the identical label of the box, I wondered if he had carried the other four by himself. When I looked at his tired face, I knew the answer.

“Thank you. I thought my arm would break after the last one,” he remarked lightly, giving me an appreciative smile.

“Don’t you have anyone to help you out?” I asked, looking back around the store.

“My grandson has school, and my son needed to entertain some business in the city for a few weeks. So, it’s just me here,” he replied lightly, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Don’t you have other staff minding the store?”

“We couldn’t really afford to hire one at the moment….” He trailed off shyly.

“I see.” I looked at the old man for a second and said, “Would you like me to help you until you find someone? I’m free these days, and you don’t have to pay me anything.”

The old man looked at me in surprise, his mouth hanging open for a second before he composed his expression.

“That’s very kind of you to offer, son, even though we’ve only just met.” He smiled, and his eyes looked a bit watery. “What is your name, if I may ask?”

“It’s Kyle. And really, I would love to help. I just found a bit of time, and I don’t know what to do with it,” I said with an encouraging smile.

“You aren’t a serial killer in hiding, are you?” He joked.

With a laugh, I shook my head. “No. I’m afraid not. Do you know the Baileys, Mrs. Wilde’s son-in-law? He’s my uncle.”

“Oh. Good. So, you are little Luke’s cousin? Are you as mischievous as the boy?”

“No, sir.” I put up the best angelic smile I could muster. At this point, I was no longer surprised if the people I met knew about Luke’s family.

He studied my expression for a second before offering me his hand. “Please call me, Benji. I think sir is too formal, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone addressed me by that name,” he said with a chuckle.

“Nice to meet you, Benji,” I said while shaking his hand. “So, anything that needs work while I’m here?”

“Eager worker. I think we’d be seeing eye to eye here, sonny.” He chuckled in approval and patted my arm.

~

For most of the day, Benji had me clear out a few boxes and arrange the shelves. At some point, he handed me a working apron after my shirt got dirty from moving the boxes.

While I worked, Benji stayed at the office located at the edge of the store, near the back exit and restroom. Though now and then, he would walk up to the counter and attend to some of the customers. It was weird how he knew when a few of them would show up. Of course, they might be his regulars. But at times, when he wasn’t around, and a customer came in, I had to call him out.

It was around a quarter to six when the old man decided he would close early. The sign outside indicated they closed around seven in the evening. But seeing as the street was quiet and it had been an hour since the last customer left the door, it was a good decision.

I was about to clean the floor, which caused a short disagreement between Benji and me when someone entered the store. Benji automatically looked up with a smile already in place. But his smile faded once he saw who entered, and I stiffened slightly in recognition. It was the same guy, Stephen, who came into the bakeshop, making a handful of staff and customers cower at his presence.

“Hey, old man. I need a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, please.” Stephen commanded before he headed toward the fridge.

I stood across from him, the mop already in hand. W glared at him with scrutinizing gaze while he took a pack of beer stacked on the shelf. Once he got what he wanted, he skidded over the tiled floor. I kept a watchful eye on him until he placed the beer on the counter beside the register.

“Would that be all?” Benji asked out of courtesy, his voice almost inaudible.

“Where’s my pack of smoke and lighter?” he asked rudely, studying the empty countertop.

“Right. I’m sorry,” Benji mumbled before turning around and facing the glass shelf behind him, which housed the cigarette products that weren’t allowed for anyone under eighteen.

“Goddamn it, old man! You’re making me late. Now, how much is all of this?” He cursed under his breath.

Benji placed the pack of cigarettes by the beer before ringing him up at the register. Once the amount flashed on the screen, Stephen pulled out a few bills in his front pocket and angrily slammed them on the counter. I saw Benji cringe at the sound but otherwise didn’t show the fear on his face. Instead, he got the money and quickly counted it.

“You’re short of five dollars,” Benji mumbled as he looked up toward him.

“Well, that’s your loss for getting my stuff too late,” he defended impolitely.

“But…” Benji countered, trying to fight back, but Stephen grabbed the things he bought and ignored Benji.

It was then that I decided to intervene. I took a few steps before calling him out.

“Excuse me, sir!” My voice got his attention, making him stop his advance. “You heard him. You lack five bucks,” I added when he finally looked at me.

“And who are you?” His words echoed.

“I just work here,” I mumbled in reply. “Now, how about paying what you lack?” My voice escalated in command.

The man stared at me with a growing grin. “Benji. Where did you find this shithead?” he asked in amusement before his grim expression shifted. “Don’t you know who my father is? Who am I?” he asked, looking intimidating.

Standing my ground, I kept my expression passive. “And who are you?” I asked after another beat of silence.

“Is this guy serious?” He huffed in disbelief, glancing quickly at Benji. “Let me enlighten you. My father owns this town. So if you want to continue living here, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, you little shit!”

After his outburst, he turned and headed out. He walked to a parked truck right by the entrance. Once he was gone, I turned to Benji, who looked like he had choked on something awful.

“Are you okay, Benji?”

“Thank you for standing up for me, son. I apologize that you had to do it. But if you see him again, I suggest you get out of his way,” he informed, getting out from the register counter and locking the store’s door.

“Who was he, Benji? I think I’ve seen him at the bakeshop one time.”

“Oh! So you’ve met, Lenna?”

“Ah, yes.”

“That’s the father of her son. If I were you, you shouldn’t mingle with them.” He trailed off as he emptied the cash register.

Somehow without knowing, I knew how he was linked with her, but I refused to believe it. Not even when someone had said it out loud.