I nod at another old picture of a good-looking man in his thirties “Who is this?” I ask.
“That’s my dad.”
I pick up the frame and study it, a smile spreading across my face. “He’s handsome.”
Ben smiles.
The next is an image of a woman with an elderly woman. “Who are they?” I ask.
“That’s my mother and my grandmother.”
I smile as I study them. “They look kind.” I run my finger over his mother’s image through the glass. “Where is your grandmother now?” I ask.
“She died of a heart attack the year before my mother.”
I frown, and then keep looking. I get to a picture of our gang and I study it. We were in Kamala at Joshua and Natasha’s wedding. Ben and I are at standing at opposite ends to each other. “I know them.” I smile sarcastically. “Good-looking people.”
He rolls his eyes.
An old wooden box is on the bottom shelf, and I slowly open it. It’s filled with little trinkets. I pick it up and go sit on the bed next to him.
His face falls serious.
I pull out a string of pink beads and I frown. “What are these?” I ask.
“They’re Meika’s.”
“Who’s Meika?”
“My sister.”
My heart drops and I force a smile. “Pretty.”
I look back in the box and I find a rock with a face painted on it. “What is this?”
He chuckles. “That’s Fred.”
“Fred?” I smile.
“I made that for my mother when I was in kindergarten. It was her prized possession.”
I giggle. “Cute.” I kiss the rock in my hand and he smiles broadly.
I pull out a heart-shaped chocolate wrapped in gold paper. “What’s this?”
His eyes hold mine. “You gave me that.”
“I did?” I ask in surprise.
He nods, as if embarrassed.
“When?”
“We were at the hospital when your grandmother was sick. Someone handed out chocolates, and I wasn’t there, so you got one and saved it for me.”
“And you saved it?” I frown.
He nods. “It meant something to me. It was the first time I realised that you thought about me when I wasn’t there.”
I bite my bottom lip to hide my goofy smile. I pull out a passport and I open it.
My heart drops as a small blonde girl stares back at me.
Meika Rose Statham
My eyes meet his and he drops them, unwilling to hold my gaze.
“She’s pretty,” I whisper.
He nods.
I read the details and frown as I do the maths. Her birthday is tomorrow. Oh, my God, that’s Ben’s birthday, too.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow?” I ask.
“I don’t celebrate my birthday,” he snaps way too quickly.
“Why not?”
“Because Meika doesn’t get one.”
“Oh, Ben.” I sigh sadly.
I continue looking through the box and find an old postcard from New York. I turn it over to read it, but it has no writing on the back. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Meika always wanted to go to New York.” He smiles as he remembers. “That was hers; she used to say one day she was going to take me there.”
I imagine a little twelve–year-old girl, with all these hopes and dreams that she never got to have, and I get this really big lump in my throat. “You’ve never been?” I push out.
He shakes his head.
“We should go,” I say.
He frowns.
An idea comes to me. “Yes. We should go to New York tomorrow… for Meika.” I smile. “On her birthday.”
He shakes his head. “I-I couldn’t.” He climbs out of bed in a rush and goes into the bathroom. He gets into the shower to avoid this conversation.
I pack up the box, put it back on his shelf, and follow him. Once in there, I sit on the side of the bathtub as I think. “How long since you’ve celebrated your birthday?”
He washes himself, but doesn’t answer.
“Ben?” I ask.
“Not since she went,” he snaps, annoyed.
My heart falls in my chest. Oh, this is so sad. “Ben, you know how we’re starting a new life together?”
His eyes find mine, and he nods.
“Well, I want to start with new traditions now. Traditions of our own, and I want to celebrate you being alive because it’s…” I shake my head as I search for an excuse. “It’s a miracle.” I smile.
“I know what you’re trying to do.” He pauses. “Just leave it, babe.”
“Please, Ben,” I plead. “I want for you to move forward and be happy.”
His head drops in sadness.
“And we can do it together.”
I take my clothes off and climb in under the water with him. Luckily, he wraps his large arms around me and holds me tight, inhaling deeply as he presses himself against my hair.
“Can we do this?” I smile up at him.
“Didge.” He sighs. “I don’t think I can.”
“You can if I’m with you, Ben. We can do anything as long as we have each other.”
He smiles against my lips as we kiss.
“Please?” I beg, I jig up and down on the spot a little to prove my point.