When All Is Said And Done

Part One, cont.

Gradually, the darkness faded, and he felt the world come to him in vague distortions, silly cartoon voices, herky-jerky orchestral sounds, a piercing bolt of sunlight across his vision. Ben slowly opened his eyes, peering into the living room where he had fallen asleep on the sofa, and noticed the television was on. Daffy Duck was inking footprints on the snow, and before the glow of the large color television sat a small, dark-haired girl, her legs bent out impossibly to the sides, rapt in the show, a cereal bowl by her foot. Caitlin. Ben rubbed his eyes and felt the first thump of a hangover behind his temples, a band circling the front part of his head, pulling tighter the more awake he became.
Movement. Squinting, Ben watched Benjy, still in his pajamas, walk into the room carrying a very full bowl of cereal and expertly fold his legs into a comfortable seating position without spilling a drop. Neither child made a sound, just watched the television as they no doubt did every Saturday morning, acknowledging neither Ben nor each other.
Ben's arm was asleep, and carefully he maneuvered it out from under him, feeling the prickling sensation of blood flowing once again. He rubbed his eyes and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep; at most it was seven in the morning, which meant he had perhaps gotten three or four hours of rest. Once Alexa and Mike had disappeared, Ben had wandered the house in a daze, going back out to the deck for a while, until he could barely stand from weariness, and decided he could not face the basement again. The couch had made more sense. Until now. Ben wondered if the children even knew their parents weren't in the house. He closed his eyes a moment, then opened them and jerked, startled. In the space of a second Caitlin had appeared before him, a face like Alexa's with wavy black hair spilling down her back, a curl of which she was twisting in her hand.
"Who're you, mister?" she asked him, unafraid.
Benjy looked over at his sister. "That's Ben," he said, as if that explained everything.
Caitlin frowned. "You're Ben," she told her brother.
He got up and made a huffing noise. "I'm Benjy. You're so lame sometimes."
The girl grimaced at him. "Well, you're stupid."
Benjy laughed at her and Ben's ears pricked up; it was a sound an adult might make in the face of ignorance. "Sure, Cate. Sure. Whatever you say."
Caitlin, thinking she had won, turned back to Ben and pressed her hands on his side. "Mister Ben," she said, rolling him, "wake up. Wake up."
Ben opened his eyes again, realizing he wasn't going to even be allowed to feign sleep, and folded his arms. "Please stop that, Caitlin," he said, and abashed, she pulled her arms back.
Benjy looked over. "How come you're here?" he asked, drawing one leg up and resting his chin on his knee.
Slowly, Ben pulled himself to a seated position and yawned widely. Seeing a spot on the sofa opening, Caitlin climbed up next to him and bounced on the cushion. "It's all warm here," she said to no one.
"We had a sleepover," Ben said, grumpily.
"Mom and Dad went out again, didn't they," Benjy stated.
Ben closed his eyes and sighed, nodding, wondering how often last night had been repeated. "They'll be back soon." Not soon enough for him, of course. Ben figured by eleven or so he'd be on the ferry back to Manhattan, where he could have a quiet nervous breakdown on his own. He could wait until then. Heading into the kitchen, he poured himself a large glass of water and opened a few cabinets, searching for an aspirin, and stepped on something. Reaching down, he picked up the yellow pill Mike had tried to force Alexa into eating the night before, and threw it away. "Benjy," he called, and turned, surprised to find the boy watching him from the entrance to the kitchen. "Aspirin. Where do your mom and dad keep aspirin?"
"I'll get it," he said, and thundered up the staircase.
Caitlin peered in the room.
"Shouldn't you be watching your cartoons?" Ben growled.
"It's a commercial," she said, and took a few steps closer to him.
Well, that's one thing for sure, he thought. What intimidated adults about Ben had absolutely no effect on children. He tried not to look at her face; examining her hair, or her nightgown, anything to avoid thinking he saw Alexa's face, younger. He wondered if Mike had felt this way about Benjy.
"Are you babysitting us?" she asked in a clear, bell-like voice.
Ben shrugged. "Guess I am."
"I never had a boy babysitter before," she said, and scrambled up on a kitchen chair, standing up on her knees to make herself taller.
Ben had to laugh to himself, behind his glass of water. "It's been a while since somebody called me a boy," he told her.
Caitlin didn't know how to answer that, so she tried a different tack. "Can we go to the zoo today?"
Ben shook his head. "Your mom and dad might come home any minute."
She frowned. Benjy arrived back with Ben's aspirin, and handed the pills over. Ben swallowed them gratefully. Benjy watched him intently, then asked, "Now what?"
Ben looked between the two of them. "Now I'm going to read the paper. You two can play by yourselves, can't you?"
Benjy's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna see if I can go over to Steve's."
Ben, on his way to the front door to retrieve the paper he knew would be there, instinctively, shook his head. "Everybody stays home today. You have to be here when your parents get back."
The boy spun one of the kitchen chairs around in anger. "You're mean."
Ben retrieved the paper and took it into the living room, spreading the front section out on the sofa. "Yeah, that's me," he murmured. "A mean old man."

Later.
It had gotten quiet; around eleven when the children's shows faded into versions of Meet the Press, Benjy had switched off the television and disappeared. In the silence, Ben had almost gotten through the sports pages when his lack of sleep overcame him and he nodded off on the sofa again. It was an uncomfortable, humid sort of sleeping, he felt tied down, weighted, and tired even as he dreamed. When he finally woke up, it was after feeling strongly for some time that he was being watched. Opening his eyes, he found he was right: Benjy was standing before him, his arms folded, a defiant look on his face. "I'm hungry," he said.
Miraculously, Ben's headache had dulled to a vague throb. "You can spread peanut butter on bread, can't you?" Ben asked him.
"Yeah."
"So, make two sandwiches and give one to your sister."
Benjy stomped off into the kitchen and it slowly came to Ben that he should probably watch the boy handle a knife, just in case, so he headed into the kitchen. The quiet of the house came to him gradually, until he had to ask, "Where's your sister?"
Benjy didn't turn to answer him, just stabbed into the peanut butter jar and scooped out some brown goo. "Not like you care," he said bitterly.
The tone....thought Ben, feeling slapped alive all at once. It was familiar, in its contempt, but he couldn't quite place where he had heard it. He took a breath and tried to relax, realizing how unfair he was being; these kids hadn't done anything. He shouldn't be treating them like obstacles. This was, after all, their house. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a jelly jar. "Here," he offered, more kindly. "Want some of this?"
To his surprise, Benjy stepped back and let him finish the sandwiches, the peanut butter side of which were a little mangled. "Now," said Ben. "Never let it be said I don't care. Where's your sister?"
Benjy shrugged.
Ben fixed him with a withering gaze. "Don't lie to me. I can see it in your face."
"She's fine," Benjy said indignantly. "She's my prisoner." He reached up for a sandwich, and Ben pulled the plate away.
"Uh-huh," he admonished. "You'll get your ransom when you tell me where you've stashed the prisoner."
Caitlin was found, thoroughly frightened and teary, tied to a desk chair in Benjy's room. As Ben struggled with the jumprope holding her down, Benjy sat on his bed and watched, stuffing a sandwich in his mouth. "Told you she was fine," he said. "Maybe Boy Scouts wasn't so bad after all."
Ben looked up at him as the last knot came free and Caitlin fell against him, wrapping her arms and legs around his torso. "Let me guess," Ben said, standing up with her attached to him. "You got a badge in knots, too."
Benjy grinned, and Ben sat next to him on the bed, holding Caitlin, at first awkwardly, then old memories came back to him of his daughter Melissa, and he smoothed her hair down her back. She wasn't hurt, just had gotten scared when Benjy abandoned her. He spoke softly into her hair, and hugged her to him, and after a moment Benjy stopped eating and shyly reached for Ben's free hand. Ben looked down at the touch and then over to the boy's face, not open with a grin but creased with worry, and he pulled Benjy to him, letting the boy wrap his arms around Ben's waist. They were more scared than they would admit, Ben realized, and his ignoring them all morning hadn't helped in the least. It felt nice, surrounded by all this human warmth, these bundles of emotion piled around him, and he hugged them both of them for as long as they liked.

Since they could not leave the neighborhood, and Ben wanted to keep as close to a phone as was physically possible, the backyard was the best place to escape the echoing, empty rooms. On the outside, Ben realized, the house was ideal, freshly painted, adorable, delicately architectured, a real show horse. Inside, however, with just three people, it echoed and creaked, feeling dark and nearly haunted, as if the light could not completely penetrate the glass. Ben supposed it had not been lived in for a long time before the Logans bought it, because it did not feel comfortable. Like a new pair of shoes, there was no familiarity in it. He sensed the kids getting antsy, and he wanted to flee its confines himself, so the three of them changed clothes, Ben put the cordless phone in his pocket, and they headed out to discover the backyard. Ben tried to reach into the recesses of his memory, recall Melissa's childhood, and what she had enjoyed doing, but found disturbing gaps where memory ought to have been. As an ADA he had been out many late evenings, but hadn't he been around for weekends? Why could he not remember?
It left him with a vague unease and no thoughts for how to entertain the children. Now that he had seen what they would get up to unsupervised, he had resolved to not let them out of his sight again, and he didn't want them dwelling on where their parents were. By one in the afternoon, Mike had not phoned. Ben carried the cordless around in his jacket pocket, trying not to go more than a few hundred yards from the house. The day turned hot, hotter than most September days, and after a circuitous route around the perimeter of the yard, the three of them were perspiring and breathing the hot, thick air in gasps. Ben let them run through the sprinkler, which after a few moments of searching, they had found near the washer and dryer in the basement. He stood off to the side, in the shade of the house, watching them for a while, and when the ground started to get soft and muddy, he hosed them down. Caitlin went back to running around the yard, finding flowers and bugs to show off, and while she went gathering Benjy asked Ben to show him poker.
"You said I needed a strategy," Benjy said.
"I need a strategy," Ben told him obscurely, but led him through the basics. The boy fetched a jarful of pennies and they spread a towel out on the grass to play.
"Why is this for grownups?" Benjy asked after a round or two.
Ben smiled a little. "Because grownups take it way too seriously," he said. "They bet a lot more than pennies."
The boy looked at his cards and grinned. "Here, I'm raising you five."
"I fold."
"Hey, no fair," Benjy said. "I had a good hand."
"Ever heard of a poker face?" When Benjy shook his head, Ben explained. "It means you don't let on what you have. You just look neutral. Even if you have....what did you have?" Ben pulled down Benjy's cards. "Hey, a flush. Nice one. See, that's a good hand. But as soon as you were happy and betting a huge amount, I knew exactly what was up."
"Poker face."
"Right," said Ben, staring at his jacket on the grass, and the phone partially protruding from it, as if daring it to ring. "Even when everything is terrible, you still look like nothing's wrong. That's a real poker face."
Benjy was silent for a minute, his tongue slightly protruding from his lips, and fixed his gaze on Ben, nodding. "I understand."
When Caitlin got bored looking for flowers, she wanted to color and draw, so Ben and she took to crayons and pens, sketching as the afternoon waned. "Coloring's lame," Benjy told his sister, and pulled out a book. "You're too old for crayons."
"Is not," she protested. "I'm just getting good at it now." But she put the book away and flipped open a blank-paged sketchbook, staring up at Ben. "Gramma got me this for my birthday."
Ben whispered in her ear, "Draw me a picture of your brother, while he's reading his book. Show me what you can do."
Benjy eyed them. "No secrets," he ordered.
"Back to your book," Ben ordered. "One thing first, though. If she's too old for crayons, what does that make me?"
Benjy smiled in his book. "Way too old for crayons."
The phone burred a short time later, and Ben nearly fell over scrabbling for it. Mike told him shortly that they'd be coming home in about an hour or so, everything was fine, nothing to worry about. He barely let Ben get a word in before he asked if the children were all right. When Ben assured him they were, he quickly rang off. It's almost over, he thought to himself, and looked over at Caitlin's picture. To his surprise, she hadn't caricatured her brother, and tried to capture him as he was, on his stomach, feet in the air, biting his thumbnail and intent on his book. She actually wasn't bad, not for her age. Not bad at all. He glanced between her sketch and Benjy and back to her again, the miniature of Alexa, and in a very different tone, thought again It's almost over.

They made a contest out of cleaning up the house; whoever could get their room tidy the fastest got to choose what they would watch on the television. They set to work like children possessed over the next half hour, because Ben had said if he got the kitchen and living room in order before they were done he was going to put on a documentary on fish. Less time to think, he thought to himself, if we're busy. Ben still felt as if he was holding something in him, restraining it from getting out, and had felt this way since Alexa had given him her terrible news. Since that moment, however, everything had moved so quickly, there had been no time for reflection, and as the hours passed he felt more and more as if he was biting down hard on something. A scream, perhaps.
Caitlin, as Ben had suspected she would, finished first. After both rooms had passed muster she ran to the television and said she wanted to watch The Secret Garden on video. Benjy made a face. "You've only seen that a thousand times," he said.
"Should keep your room cleaner," Ben told him. "Never know when it might come in handy."
After a little cajoling, Caitlin was bargained down to Beauty and the Beast, and with the lights low for a movie atmosphere and the two children as he found them earlier in the day -- sprawled out a few feet from the television -- Ben sat heavily in the sofa, thinking he could use a nap. Three hours of sleep was not enough preparation for twelve hours of babysitting. He yawned widely and folded his arms, hoping he wouldn't fall asleep before Alexa and Mike got home. Nice picture that'd make, he thought.
A hand touched his leg and he jumped, not having seen Caitlin sneak up on him. He looked down at her, and she up at him, and without a word she scrambled up on the sofa, into her warm spot, and leaned up against him. Awkwardly, Ben put an arm around her and watched as the lights of the opening sequences flickered across her features. It wasn't so bad, when it was quiet like this, he supposed, and thought back to the rest of the day and realized none of it had been all that hard, not really. Surely, he told himself, if I can prosecute a murderer I can look after two children. He leaned back against the sofa and rested his head to the side, and it wasn't too long before Benjy took the cue from his sister and moved to sit on Ben's other side. He didn't seem to want to cuddle like she did, but he sat very close and pulled his tanned legs up on the couch, enrapt in a film apparently Caitlin had only seen five hundred times.
The last thing Ben remembered before he slipped away was the part where Belle, lost in the woods, is saved by the Beast, who brings her back to his castle. And then he fell asleep.

When he first came in the house it was almost pitch dark out, and there were no lights on in any of the rooms. It was quiet, too quiet, and Mike had learned over the past ten years that a house is never totally quiet with two children in it. And then he heard it in the background, a familiar song from Beauty and the Beast, and knew where they all were. That they did not come to the door when it opened, however, worried him. "Where are they?" Alexa asked him, following after. She was much better now; she had gotten low in white blood cells and needed the day to be tended to properly, but she would not stay in the hospital, deathly afraid she would get too weak to leave. Mike hadn't wanted to bring her home; this trip across country notwithstanding he knew where she needed to be, and that was with proper doctors, and proper medicine. They had the same arguments every time, and they always ended with her declaring that she would walk out on her own if he did not take her. Mike gave in. It was better, he had realized, not to ask why.
"I think they're watching a Disney," he told her. "I'll go check. You," he pointed, "right upstairs."
"Don't be silly, Mike," she said. "I can see the children. I'm not that weak."
And so it went. They walked to the living room, flipping on a lamp or two to light their way, and stopped at the entrance of the television area, drawn first to the television, then to the children and Ben, asleep on the couch. Caitlin was using Ben's chest for a pillow, one small hand sprawled out, her neck bent back a bit, and at some point Benjy had given in and rested his head on Ben's thigh, lying flat out across the sofa. Alexa couldn't help it; she smiled to herself, as if she had known all along that he would do fine with them. Last night, while she would never have wanted to voluntarily go through it, had been a kind of godsend, forcibly sending her and Mike away to prove to Ben could do it. She had every faith in him.
Mike blinked several times, and roughly flipped on the light switch in the room. After a moment there was movement; Ben lifted his head stiffly and rubbed his eyes with his one free hand. Gaston, he had been dreaming of Gaston...he glanced over to the edge of the room and saw Alexa and Mike, and a smile crept over his face. Gently, he nudged the children and they drifted awake slowly, stretching and looking over at him. Ben waved his hand in their parents' directions and suddenly they came alive. Caitlin was up first and ran to her father. "Mommy, mommy, daddy, daddy!" she shouted, and Mike hoisted her in the air, grinning at her and darting a quick glance at Ben that he was unable to interpret. Benjy didn't run but hurried straight to his mother and hugged her around her waist, and Alexa patted his hair down gently, hugging him back. Caitlin continued jabbering to Mike: "And then we did coloring and then we cleaned our rooms and daddy lemme show you what mister Ben asked me to draw!" She wriggled to be let down and ran out of the room to get her sketch pad. Mike leaned down and hugged Benjy loosely, and the boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck. Ben turned back to the television.
Mike, though he was trying not to show it, was suddenly furious. At Ben, at Alexa, at the children, but most specifically at himself. On finding the group of them intimately cozied up to one another, a slowburn of mixed emotions had lit itself inside Mike, until he wanted to lash out. It was too much, it was all too much to take. Bad enough Ben connects with Benjy, plays cards or whatever shit they did on the porch for three hours, bad enough but understandable. Bad enough he sees how Alexa reacts to Ben, he has to be in the room and has to know he's a third wheel when the DA is around. But by God and Christ Mike was not going to tolerate Ben taking his daughter's affections from him. Caitlin was the one true, pure thing in his life that had never been sullied by anything past or present, and he loved her in a way that was even stronger than the way he loved Alexa. Firecrackers went off in his head when he saw Ben Stone's arm around her, and his daughter sweetly sleeping beside him. This was not going to happen. If he let his daughter go with Ben Stone he would lose her. And he was not going to allow that.
All of this passed through his mind in a flash of hot jealousy: Mike, who was accustomed to being the king in his house was not ready to have any of his power usurped. Rational or no, his feelings were real, and he would have to act on them. He stood up from hugging Benjy and Caitlin raced back in the room, thrusting her sketchpad into his hands. "See?" she said. "That's Benjy." And she pointed.
Benjy, who had not seen her interpretation of him until that moment, raised both of his eyebrows. "Hey, Cate," he said. "That's pretty good."
Caitlin beamed at her brother with all the hero-worship she could muster.
"Why'd you draw me?" Benjy asked, knowing she preferred horses when she drew. There were hundreds of horse profile pictures around her room, flying horses, unicorns, racing horses, every kind, so this was odd.
"Ben said I should," she said, and ducked under her father's arm into the living room, taking Ben's hand and pulling him to a standing position, dragging him to where the rest of the family stood.
"So it was okay?" Alexa asked hesitantly.
Ben nodded, feeling a great sense of relief at how improved she looked. "It was fine," he told her, and tried to ignore the odd look on Mike's face.

It was too late to catch the last ferry by the time everything had settled down, but Ben wasn't as frantic to get out as he had been earlier that day. He still felt worn to the nub, and wanted more than anything else some peace and time for himself, but if it had to wait until Sunday afternoon, he decided it would just have to wait. They fumbled through a quick meal, after which Ben decided he was going to have to get some sleep, even if it was only nine in the evening. He waited until the children were tucked in bed, sitting down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea steaming lazily in front of him, figuring he would say his good nights to Mike and Alexa when they came back down. Alexa's voice called to him from the top of the stairs. "Ben...." she trailed off, and he went to the foot of the staircase. "The kids want to say goodnight."
He didn't want to feel affected by that but he did; as Ben climbed up to the bedrooms he felt the warm fuzzies enveloping him, and he smiled as Alexa led him first to Caitlin's room. The little girl was in a frilly white nightgown, the covers pulled up to her chin, and she reached out her arms to him. "Mister Ben," she said, giving him a hug. "Thanks for helping me clean up my room," she whispered conspiratorially. Ben winked back at her; he had sneaked upstairs after mopping up the dishes in the kitchen and lent her a hand with some of her discarded clothes to help speed up the process. He had feared Benjy's choice for television viewing would have included the Power Rangers tapes he had seen lying around, and that was simply not going to do. He let her go and she slid back under her covers. "Are you coming back?" she asked him.
Ben shrugged noncommittally. "I might. If you're a good girl, I might."
She grinned, and for the first time he noticed she had a tooth missing. His heart lurched; he was such an easy target. "Night, Caitlin."
"Night, Mister Ben," she said.
Benjy was arranging something on his comforter when Ben was led to his room. He sat on the edge of the sheets and asked what the layout of cards was for. "One game," he said. "One game of poker."
Ben thought. "Well, one." He searched the sheets. "What're we playing for?"
"Ten dollars," Benjy said. "I have to get my X-Files trading cards."
Ben remembered how the night before he had beaten the boy in gin rummy. Had that only been twenty-four hours ago? "You don't have ten dollars to give me when you lose," he said.
Benjy raised an eyebrow.
So they played, a quick hand of five-card draw. He learned well; Ben could not tell whether Benjy's impassive stare meant he had a good hand, a bad hand, or couldn't care less. At the same time, the easy blank expression on a child's face was unnerving. Perhaps Mike had been right; did children need to know so early on how to hide their feelings? Ben began to wonder if he should have taught this game at all.
When Benjy won, Ben was only too happy to pull out the ten dollar bill from his wallet. "Do not," he told the winner, "do not ever tell your father you won this playing cards."
Benjy took it and slid it into the middle of a book he had near his bed. "Poker face, Ben," he said. "You can count on me."

Mike sat on the corner of their bed and glanced anxiously at Alexa, who was brushing her hair, as she did every night. He always marveled how easily she seemed to slide back in to routine, as if she had not spent all day in the hospital with tubes in and out of her. But she seemed to require routine to re-settle her; the more activities she could repeat, the more quickly she could pretend nothing was amiss. Mike never could pretend that way; he had been lousy at it all weekend, keeping things from Stone, trying to act happy and pleasant, restraining all of the things he wanted to say. It was not his nature to press things down; all he wanted was for all of this to go away. He suspected, however, that nothing would ever just 'go away' again.
"What are they doing in there?" he asked Alexa, darting his gaze to their bedroom door, as if trying to see through it into Benjy's room.
Her brush slowed for a moment in its downward stroke and she looked back at him through the mirror, then half-turned in her seat. "Mike," she said, offering the brush. "Would you?"
He stood behind her and pulled the bristles gently through her hair, smoothing the strands down with his other hand. He loved touching her hair, feeling her head under his palm, and after a moment she reached up and guided his head down to hers, kissing him upside-down. He gazed into her eyes, seeing nothing but himself reflect back, and he ran his hand down her jaw to her neck. After a moment she tilted her head down and he continued brushing. She was right; it was soothing to brush Alexa's hair. He could do this forever.
"I think he'll say yes," she said, from under the curtain of hair, where Mike could not see her expression.
He held the brush more tightly. "I suppose he will," Mike said quietly, but he was unnerved from the whole scene they had come on that evening, and had been straining since dinner to figure out either how to silence the disquiet that had come over him regarding Caitlin, or else how to move around it.
"He seems to get along with both kids really well," she said.
Mike began to realize how Alexa never used Stone's proper name when the two of them were alone like this, and he began to resent that the man was treated like some sort of untouchable. He resented a lot about Stone, and seeing Caitlin with him that night hadn't improved anything. It was not so much that Mike ever wanted his daughter to seem lonely or separate, but her easy attachment to the one person Mike could clearly feel was his enemy was a kind of betrayal. It also, to Mike's mind, somehow denigrated his own relationship with her. After a few moments of brushing, his mind cleared, and he realized there was only one alternative to having Ben take both kids. Mike made his decision, and Alexa was just going to have to accept it. It was going to be his one favor to ask of her.
Alexa turned in her seat to face him when he did not respond. "Mike?"
Startled, he stopped brushing and came out of his reverie. "I have to ask you something."

When he was done in Benjy's room, Ben noticed the master bedroom door was still shut, so he headed down to the kitchen again. His tea had cooled while he was upstairs, and he sipped it quietly, thinking about what had gone on that afternoon, and how it changed everything. He could take care of them, if he had to. It could be done. He waited patiently with his tea, and after a few moments of silence Mike and Alexa's footsteps could be heard coming down.
They sat around the table, the unit of them, the pairing Ben had never gotten a hold on, and he noticed Alexa's cheeks were flushed. Mike's gaze was steely, his eyes bright and he set his hand on top of Alexa's in a possessive gesture. Right away Ben knew they had been arguing. He set his expression to neutral; he was not more than a guest here, he had no right to inquire, but his heart was saddened whenever Alexa appeared stressed. "I don't think I'm going to be good for staying up much longer," he began after they seemed settled. "Long day."
"You're not the only one," Mike said, and Alexa shot him a glance, squeezing his hand hard.
"Right," said Ben, hearing the reprimand, and moved quickly. "Look, that thing...we talked about. Mike and I talked about last night. I...I don't know if I'm the best person for the job, but...I'll figure it out as I go. I'll be happy to take the kids when you...go away."
Alexa smiled thinly, and Mike stood, scraping his chair back, and said, "Okay, Ben. We'll let you know."
"Let me know?" Ben echoed, wondering, What is this, a nanny interview?
Mike took one last draught of his coffee. "We'll let you know if we need you."
Ben darted glances between Mike and Alexa, who was oddly quiet, even though her brow was creased. This was a new development, something she wasn't willing to touch. "What happened to 'you're our only hope'?" Ben asked, his voice a little louder. "What happened to --" but a withering glance from Mike cut him off from saying the rest of it, from saying "What happened to 'you owe me'?" Ben was grateful for being silenced; that was something he hadn't meant to bring out, but he was getting angry at Mike, for insisting on one thing one moment, then saying it wasn't important the next.
"I said," Mike told him, tossing his mug into the sink, where it clattered around loudly, "we'll let you know."
Ben narrowed his eyes at Logan, for the first time feeling a well of pure antipathy bubble in him. He's threatened, thought Ben. Damn, is he scared. So he turned to Alexa, realizing all at once how little they had spoken during his visit. They were so afraid to really talk to one another that they had avoided relating directly the entire time. "What is this, Alexa? I thought you had no other choice."
She sighed, and slowly, tiredly said, "We just have to think out some other options, Ben."
"Last night there were no other options." There was silence and he darted his glance between the two of them. "Look, I can do this. I want to do this."
"And we want you to also, Ben, but..." Alexa trailed off, glancing over at Mike. "Mike just...we just think..."
Ben leaned forward in his chair. "'We' just, or 'Mike' just, Alexa?"
"'We.'" Mike leaped in, striding over to the table. "'We.' These are our kids, and we'll decide where we send them. It is our decision about our kids' welfare. Got that? And we'll let you know what we decide tomorrow morning."
Ben glanced over at Alexa, disappointed in her passivity, and heard Mike's pronouns ringing in his head. He'd just been told off, and it made him furious, but he was afraid to start a fight, not wanting to hear where it might end up. Retreating, Ben waved good night to them both and pulled the basement door closed behind him.

Mike was called in suddenly the next morning; a cop had been shot and he was needed to head up the initial investigation at the precinct. He didn't like it at all, he tried to weasel out of it, but it had been the commissioner himself who called to make sure Captain Logan would have the situation in hand. That left Alexa alone to take Ben back to the ferry, and seething, Mike went to work.
Alexa saw how paranoid he was becoming, and it wounded her. She knew he could only see how easily he was removed from the big picture, but she knew neither Ben nor herself ever saw the picture without Mike in it. She wished there was something she could have said to Mike to ease his mind, but she was angry at him, too, for after their discussion with Ben the night before they had gone to bed and argued some more. There just was no budging Mike on this one; he had made it very clear that Alexa was going to have to live with it, for once she was going to have to not ask why. Alexa thought he was insisting on a mistake born of misplaced jealousy, but Mike was resolute, and she could not risk losing him in any way just now. In the end, tired and beaten down, she had finally agreed, turning over in the bed. Having won, Mike had wrapped his arms around her, but she had not made him feel welcome, and he had pulled away.
"I am not the bad guy here," he had hissed, rolling over. "I'm doing the best I fucking can."
She had blinked back tears and said, "So am I."
The next day, the plan had been for Mike to pass the decision on to Ben personally, but then he had been called to the station, and the gears had shifted. Alexa was left to tell Ben of the news, and she put it off all morning, uneasy and unwilling, until it was time to take Ben to the station and she knew there was no other time left. All morning he had steadfastly refused to initiate any conversation on the subject, and now she was going to have to bring it up.
Midday, they loaded the spare car and took Ben to the ferry. Alexa was acutely aware that after this drive it would be a very long time before she saw Ben again, and she wished there was some way of prolonging the goodbye. Initially she had expected him to bombard her with questions during the ride, but instead the car was quiet, with Caitlin and Benjy occasionally tussling in the back seat. Ben remained silent. They were about halfway to the station when Alexa turned on the radio suddenly, hoping the music would blot out their conversation from the children. "Ben," she started, keeping her eyes on the road.
He glanced over at her.
They came to a red light. "Would you still want to take the kids?"
"Of course, Alexa," he said gently. "Of course I would."
"Would you only take one?" she asked, and closed her eyes.
It took a moment for what she said to register. "Wait a minute," he said. "Which one."
"Benjy."
He shook his head to clear out the silence. "And what about Caitlin?"
A horn honked behind them and Alexa flinched, then stepped on the accelerator. "She's going to stay with my mom in Florida. Mom only has room for one. It's a small place, you see." But her voice faded into the air with her last few words.
Ben dug his fingers into the palms of his hands, and tried not to react to this sophisticated insult. "Don't do this," he told Alexa quietly. "Don't let him separate your kids like this."
She frowned. "It's not Mike's choice. It's both of ours."
"Damnit," he hissed, "I know full well it isn't. Stop with this 'we' nonsense."
Alexa's throat hurt her. "Please, Ben."
"Why are you letting him do this?"
Her voice squeaked as if it was being dragged through a tight opening. "Please don't do this, Ben." She coughed a little, terrified one of the children would see how emotional she was becoming. "This is how I have to do it."
"There has to be another way."
She shook her head, feeling a tightness in her throat.
Ben sighed. "Why Benjy and not Caitlin, then?"
She glanced over at him mutely.
"Fine," he said, folding his arms. "Bring him next weekend."

They pulled into the dock parking lot and Alexa told Cate and Benjy to wait in the car while she walked Ben to the ferry. They waved at him, Caitlin blowing a small kiss, and then he turned his attention back to Alexa. "I'll take him," Ben said. "But this is it, Alexa, I told you before we can't do this. You can't do this."
"Do what, Ben."
"This changing of teams that you do. I should be ready for it, and I never am."
She blinked and stared off at the water.
"You don't have to do this."
"Ben," she said in a small voice, "would I have asked if there was any other way?"
"But you didn't ask," he said quietly. "Mike asked. I haven't heard more than a few words out of you all weekend. You treat me like a stranger."
Her eyes turned down. "If I remember, that was how you wanted it. What happened to 'we can't be friends'?"
He knew the words he had spoken all those years ago were still true. "We can't."
"Even now."
He nodded slowly, and lifted her chin with his fingers. "Especially now. But I don't want to be enemies, either, Lexa."
Silently, she shook her head. "Or me," she said.
"I do still love you," he told her, surprised at his own candor.
Her expression trembled a little. "And I you, Ben."
"But you love Mike more."
Alexa's eyes widened. "I can't graduate love as if it weighs something, Ben. I can't say more or less for you, for Mike...for Benjy or for Caitlin. I just love differently. My pipe dream would be to have you both around always, but of course that's completely silly. I know that."
"Why do you let him control you, Alexa?"
She looked struck. "Ben. That's a terrible thing to say. And it isn't true. You want to hear it? No, I don't agree with sending Cate to Florida. I know she would be fine with you. But Mike says no. And I've asked so much of him these past years; I'm still asking, always needing more that for once I have to give in to what he wants. He doesn't ask much. And I need him, Ben, I can't do this alone."
Ben sighed. He knew it hadn't been Alexa's decision, but hearing it made him feel more at ease. Of course Ben knew exactly why Benjy and not Caitlin would be staying with him. And in that flash, he could only see it getting harder for Benjy, living with Mike, growing up in that household. This weekend had, if anything, only deepened Mike's resentment of Ben, and he knew that was something he would, however unconsciously, take out on Benjy. It was inevitable. Alexa's grand experiment had failed, and for one quick moment Ben hated her for making their son the guinea pig. When it had been theoretical -- perhaps it was Ben's child, perhaps it was Mike's -- he could afford some distance; he knew in the end they would not have worked together with the shadow of Logan always in her mind, and if she had stayed with him all those years ago perhaps he would be as paranoid about her loyalties as Mike was now. But with the living fact of Benjy in the car behind him, the very idea that they -- all three of them -- could have been so cavalier about his future, Ben felt an impotent rage begin in him. Caitlin was not the point here; it did not matter to Ben whether he had two, one, or no children in his home. What mattered was that these children were once again being tossed around like plastic gambling chips, gone to the winner rather than to who made sense. What mattered was that Ben suddenly felt a hard indignancy in him and he had no idea where it had come from, or why it was there.
"You wouldn't ever be alone," he said fiercely. "I'll always be here."
Alexa reached her hand up to touch his face, then pulled it back, glancing quickly at the car, and instead ran her hand down his arm. "I wish I deserved you," she said quietly. "I wouldn't have made you very happy."
"I don't graduate happiness," he said, giving her her words back. "Any you had to spare I would have taken."
She blinked at him, and wiped her eye, looking off at the ferry, which had finished emptying out and was now accepting passengers for the return trip. Alexa stared into his smoky blue eyes. "You should go, I think."
He nodded. "Next weekend," he said. "I'll be ready."
She sighed. "Thank you, Ben. One of us will call you about what time and everything, okay?" He nodded again, and she reached over and hugged him, a surprise like the one from when he had seen her on the deck.
Ben hugged her back with an almost-forgotten desperation. "Get well," he ordered her. "Just...get better and come home and live forever, okay?"
She pulled back. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
"You know I always do." He turned slowly, glancing over his shoulder, and boarded the ferry.
Alexa leaned against the side of her car as the ferry pulled away, back towards Manhattan, watching him watching her from the upper deck, until he was just a small dot very far away, crossing the waters back home.

Part Two