Beach Rental(12)

Juli rested her forehead against the cool glass. She wanted to touch his shoulder and reassure him. Reassure him about what?

There was a vulnerability to him. It showed in his guileless, light brown eyes.

She unlocked the door and stepped back outside. His head turned and his face expressed dismay in the sad eyes and the downturned corners of his mouth.

“That was quick.”

“I don’t need to tour your house. I can see it’s nice.” Juli walked to the rail and leaned back against it. “You need to make me understand why you want to do this.”

Ben nodded. “I heard what you said the night you drove me home.”

Her face flashed hot. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I heard in your words that you’re alone and unsettled in your life. I enjoyed the stories. They said a lot about you—about how you make the best of whatever situation in which you find yourself and how, if you don’t like the current situation, you make a new one.”

He’d gotten that from her stories? He was a dreamer, hearing what he wanted to hear.

He scratched his head. “It made me think about my own life. I’ve lived a good one and I’ve been blessed in many ways. Recently, something changed. Things are different now. I’m sort of like a fish out of water, flipping around on the ground, hoping to make the best of it, but with no idea how. Until I met you.”

“What changed?”

He focused on his fingers. “I’m dying.”

People didn’t talk like that, not in her life. She rejected the sound of it.

“We’re all dying.”

He looked up at her. “Some things, some subjects, can’t be avoided.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Cancer. It’s a quiet cancer and by the time it was found, it was too far gone for standard treatment. Or rather, treatment that might cure it. It’s in my pancreas.”

She wet her lips. Her words had been stolen. ‘I’m sorry’ covered things like stepping on someone’s foot or breaking up with a boyfriend. Her hands were on her cheeks. She put them back down and grabbed the rail behind her.

“I have the faith I need to deal with the truth, but in the meantime, I don’t want to spend my remaining time alone.”

“You know people. You have friends, even family. You aren’t alone.”

“They’re grieving. I’m alive, but they are already.... I can’t blame them. I know how I’d feel if the roles were switched and I was the one who was dealing with losing a loved one, but with them around all the time, upset, I can’t find any normalcy. I want to feel ordinary for a while yet. An ordinary man with a regular life.”

“How long?”

“No telling. If I took treatment, it would probably extend my time, but it would also have side effects. If I can’t be cured, then I want to enjoy myself while I can.”

She waited for the answer.

“More than two months, less than nine. It’s hard to say how long it’ll be before I’m not feeling up to an active life. I don’t need a nurse. I’ll hire nurses when it’s time.”

She tried to see into the future. A wife—in name only, of course. And soon after, a widow? Ben was obviously real, but the rest of the picture couldn’t take shape. She shook her head no. Not necessarily refusing, but in disbelief at this proposal.

He rushed into his next words. “My attorney will have an agreement drawn up by tomorrow. I’d like you to take a look at it. Take it to an attorney of your choosing. The agreement will be simple and straightforward. Please don’t refuse before you’ve read it.”

Could she watch him sicken and die? Was it kinder and more honorable to walk away and leave him on his own? He could find someone else. Who else? Would there be another woman as crazy as she was? One who would consider this?

“You can find someone else.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I won’t know because I won’t try.” He shook his head with a wry chuckle. “You’re it. I don’t say that to make you feel guilty. I say it so you’ll know you’re special. I never thought of this as a possibility until I met you. I apologize for the rush, but each day is important to me because it’s one less day I have.”

“It’s time for me to leave.” She handed him the keys.

“Would you like to go for a coffee or something?” He fingered the keys, staring down at his feet.

“Just take me back to Singer’s.”

“But you’re not refusing?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”