I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!
Today, Marissa tracks Ben down and they have a heart-to heart, until some bad news interrupts their chat…
< Read Chapter Eleven | Read Chapter Thirteen >
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Chapter Twelve
Oh Crap
Marissa watched Ben throughout the meal, taking his emotional pulse whenever he popped in to check on them.
Her grandmother Carmelina ruled the table like a queen, enlivening the dinner with grand tales of what Sacramento had been like when she was a girl.
“Those apartments where you live now? That was all orange groves… or maybe oak trees? Anyhow, there was nothing out there when I was a kid. My nonna used to take us up into the hills—she knew where all the best berry patches were—and she’d wade into them and scratch the hell out of her arms, happy as a clam collecting sweet raspberries and tart blackberries to make her famous jam…”
Marissa had noted the lines on Ben’s face, the gray patches under his eyes on his dark skin.
All of the Ragazzi Club had loved Ella, but she’d been Ben’s missing half, the love he’d thought he would never find. Marissa struck up an unexpected friendship with him after her break-up with Gio and they’d been thick as thieves for a while, but somehow they’d drifted apart after Ella. Time to rectify that now.
She pushed back her chair with a loud scrape. “Excuse me. I’m going to use the restroom.”
Carmelina smiled. “Of course, dear.” Her grandmother squeezed her arm as she walked by. “So this one time, nonna brought back two full buckets of oranges…”
Her voice trailed off as Marissa entered the bustling main room of the restaurant. She looked around for Ben. He was nowhere to be seen.
Iggy, the cute gay host who had seated them, was greeting a large party at the front door.
Marissa slipped up behind him and waited for him to finish. She loved the open, modern vibe of the place, the buzz of the crowd, the sizzle of steak and chicken and the heavenly aroma as they were brought to the tables. What was hybrid work, half her time at a tiny desk and the other half in a tiny gray apartment, compared to this?
“Can I help you?” Iggy turned his attention to her, his pearly whites almost blinding.
She blinked, almost forgetting what she’d come to ask. “I… I was looking for Ben?”
“Ah yes, from the VIP party.” This time his smile seemed a little more genuine. “He stepped out for a break, but he should be back in…” He glanced at his Apple Watch. “…fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks. By the way, I love the bowtie, and your turquoise nails are divine.” She loved this new trend of men painting their nails—even some of her straight friends were doing it.
His smile widened. “Thanks. And I love your… whatever this is.” He indicated her gray shirt and black pants.
She laughed. “Laundry day.” With a wave, she ducked out of the front door, looking around for her friend. If I were Ben, where would I be?
Her gaze fell on the alley, halfway down the block, and she knew.
She crossed the street, on the lookout for any drivers as careless as she’d been, and ducked into the narrow lane. Halfway down to 17th street, the sign on the side of the old white one-story building beckoned her. Old Soul Coffee.She and Ben had spent many a Saturday afternoon at the little Midtown coffee shop, sharing details about their lives. Her break-up, her dreams of becoming a chef. His search for new treatments for Ella. The sales of his first book. What life was like as a black trans man in Sacramento.
The gorgeous mural of a woman’s face floating in water amongst a bunch of lotus flowers that covered the long side of the building greeted her as she approached, the woman seeming to wink at her as a flash of reflected light illuminated her. Street art was one of the things Marissa loved most about SacTown.
Sure enough, Ben was slumped in a metal chair in front of the café’s industrial windows, sipping on a cappuccino. His back was to her, and he didn’t hear her approach.
Is this what my life is, these days? Running into old acquaintances in alleyways? “Room for one more?”
He turned, the pain in his expression transforming to something like joy at the sight of her. “Hey, Riss. Sure. Grab a seat.” He gestured her toward the other chair. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?”
She shrugged. “Carmelina will keep them occupied.” No doubt she was still holding court. They wouldn’t miss her for at least fifteen or twenty minutes.
He laughed. “True enough.”
“Besides, I chose Zocalo for family dinner tonight so I could come see you.” She wasn’t sure exactly what had made her do it. She’d realized the week before how long it had been since they had hung out together.
“You could have just texted.” He took a sip out of the huge white ceramic mug and frowned.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She sized him up. The sadness was like a tattered cloud over his once-sunny personality. “So how are you, really? No bullshit.”
He grimaced. “It’s… I’m fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Come on, Ben. When my life was in the toilet, I told you everything.”
He met her gaze, and the cloud melted away. “All right. Not… fine, exactly.” He bit his lip. “Truth is, everything hurts. Since I lost her, there’s a hole inside me that nothing seems to fill. But I get up every morning. I try to write. I go to work.” He took a measured sip, staring off into space. “That’s what life is, right? A series of things you do between getting up and going to bed?”
“That’s one definition.” Though he’d just described her own life, to a ‘t’.
He blinked, and sat back, staring at her. “So how’s your life? You have a new job, right?” Ben had always been an expert in deflection.
“I… it’s fine.” She tapped on the metal tabletop. First Marcos, then Ben…
He laughed triumphantly. “Now who’s bullshitting?”
She wished she had a coffee cup to hold onto. Instead she shoved her restless hands into her lap. “Is it that obvious?”
Ben shook his head. “Probably not to everyone. But I know you. You never wanted to work in an office.”
“It pays the bills.” It came out harsher than she intended.
Ben nodded. “Yes. I suppose it does.”
They sat there in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. A white Tesla prowled quietly down the alley, turning onto 18th street and disappearing.
“I met someone…” They both said at once.
Marissa laughed.
Ben lifted his cup with a half-smile. “You first.”
In her pocket, her phone buzzed. She ignored it. Being present with Ben was more important than someone else’s text. “It’s weird. I ran into Gio the other night at Ragazzi. When we broke up…” Her voice caught in her throat. Other than being on the streets as a teen, it had been the darkest time of her life.
“I remember.” Ben put a hand on hers and squeezed. “How was it?”
Ben was the only one she’d ever told about her secret shame. “It was… all right. Too normal, maybe? Like when you’re both trying so hard not to say the wrong thing… Anyhow, it was the first time we’ve talked… really talked… since the break-up.” She closed her eyes, the old familiar shame washing over her. “I almost told him. It was right there on the tip of my tongue. Then I chickened out and bolted.”
His eyes held no judgment. “You’ll know when the time is right.” He took a deep breath, and exhaled in that long way people do when pain squeezes their heart and there’s nothing to be done for it. “You mentioned someone new?”
Her pocket buzzed again, and she ignored it again. “Yeah. That same night, there was a woman in the restaurant. A server. Korean. Funny and bright and… you know when you get that tongue-tied feeling, when you want to just bask in someone’s presence, and you can’t seem to remember words?”
An unreadable expression crossed Ben’s face. “I do.”
“It was… everything.” She closed her eyes, remembering Ainsley’s beautiful smile, her bright laugh. You’ve got it bad, girl. “But what about you? You mentioned someone new, too?”
Her pocket buzzed again, more insistently this time.
Ben set down his cup. “My neighbor was pounding around upstairs. It sounded like a herd of elephants charging … what do they call a group of rhinos? A crash of rhinoceroses. I went to yell at them, and when she opened the door—”
“Just a sec.” Somebody was trying awfully hard to get a hold of her.
She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. “Holy crap.”
“What?” Ben leaned forward, his brows creasing with concern.
She held her phone out to see the message from Marcos.
Where are you? Something’s happened to Brad.
< Read Chapter Eleven | Read Chapter Thirteen >
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.