Two days later, Ben sat in his new office, rubbing his eyes. He’d been reading the same email for what seemed like an hour. When he looked up, his father stood at the doorway.
“Still jet lagged?”
“I guess so.” He caught a hint of concern in his father’s eyes.
His father took in the details of Ben’s office. He wore a navy suit, shunning the firm’s business casual policy, and Ben noticed he could still command a room at seventy-five.
“It’s so good to see you working in your grandfather’s office. He would be so proud of us working on the 9/11 Memorial design together.”
“I wish he were here,” Ben said.
His father shrugged in resignation then tapped his knuckles on the desk.
“Speaking of your grandfather, I met with the estate attorney and he mentioned a large donation to Justin’s family made from your trust before you left New York.”
Ben tapped the tip of his pen on the desk. He hated lying to his dad.
“The firm was supposed to match the funds we collected but they kept stalling. Layla was counting on that money so I covered it. I should have told you Pop.”
His father put up his hand.
“No need to apologize. You’re entitled to spend the funds as you see fit and Justin was your best friend. It was a lot of money, though.”
Ben stared at the phone, willing it to ring – anything that would help him escape this conversation.
His dad got up to leave, pausing at the door.
“I almost forgot. Metro is doing a story about the Memorial contest and they scheduled a photoshoot for tomorrow morning. Your mom already bought you a new suit. It’s in my office,” he said before leaving.
Ben picked up the magazine his father had left, leafing through a sea of ads until he reached the first article, a piece about efforts to revitalize Lower Manhattan. He agreed with the writer’s disdain for the fancy cycling studios and gluten-free bakeries that had replaced several of the old business after the attacks. According to E. Alexander, the area around Ground Zero would soon resemble a strip mall if the developers got their way.
Outside, the remaining afternoon light filtered through the blinds. He thought a run might help his mood and so he shut down his computer for the day.
The walk to Battery Park confirmed the points of the article – a Starbucks where the shoe repair shop used to be, a cookie cutter yoga studio in place of his favorite Chinese takeout spot. The last time he’d walked these blocks, everything was covered in a fine white dust. Even the city’s steadfast residents seemed to move like ghosts in the bleak aftermath of those weeks.
Without realizing it, he’d come to Phil’s Diner. A “coming soon” sign was tacked to the front door, announcing the grand opening. He cupped his hands next to his face, looking through the window as his mind drifted back to the last day he’d been here on the Friday before 9/11.
Ben had been dragging Justin to Phil’s on a daily basis and it was not for the food. He had nothing against Phil’s cooking, but it was the girl who served their lunch that kept him coming back. Elise was a graduate student at Columbia. Every time he tried to ask her out, he felt the stutter that had plagued his youth coming back.
That day, Ben had won the weekly raffle and Phil had come to the table with an old Polaroid camera to snap a picture of him and Justin, with Elise in the middle. On his way to the bathroom later, he’d snatched the Polaroid tacked to the bulletin board it pocketed it.
Emboldened by his petty theft, he’d gone back to the table and asked Elise out to dinner.
She’d regarded him with those eyes and he forced himself to not look away.
“I’ll be out of town this weekend. How about next Tuesday, my shift ends at 5.”
“Perfect. See you next Tuesday then.”
It was the last time he’d seen her. It was also the last time he’d seen Justin.
***
As he rounded the corner towards the park, someone called out his name.
His heart sank at the sight of Justin’s widow and son, who slept in the stroller she was pushing.
“Are you back? I called your mom a year and a half ago and she told me you’d moved out of the country.”
“I just moved back. I’m helping my dad with a design for the Memorial design contest.”
He stood on the sidewalk, shifting his weight and leaned in to share an awkward embrace.
Justin and Layla had met freshman year of college at a sorority party. “I’m going to marry her,”Justin had told him in that matter-of-fact way of his.
“Hey, I’m sorry I did not stay in touch.” He looked down at his running shoes. “The company needed me to start right away; I could not even say goodbye or attend the funeral.”
Now it was Layla who looked away.
“We have not buried him yet.”
“What? Why not?”
“They haven’t identified his remains. The ME office has promised to work as long as it takes, but we’re starting to lose hope.”
Ben searched for something to say.
Perhaps sensing his discomfort, she spoke again.
“It’s great that you guys are entering the design contest. It would be so comforting to know you had a hand in it.”
Ben felt a weight settling like an anchor in his stomach. Then the little boy woke up, looking up at him with curiosity. When Layla picked him up, Ben saw that he had her serious gaze and pale skin. He reached out a chubby hand and touched Ben’s cheek, before breaking out into a smile. It was Justin’s smile.
(to be continued)
MUST LOVE CHOCOLATE 