Read Online Point Pleasant by Jen Archer Wood - Free Book Online Page B

changed into jeans and an old white t-shirt and read J. G. Ballard in the safety of his bedroom. Andrew was on call at the hospital for the night; he had been spending more and more time there since Caroline’s death, but Ben did not mind.
    At eleven o’clock, Ben took stock of the dark house. He went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out a bottle of his father’s beer, which he opened without hesitation. He was less than three months shy of the legal drinking age, but that did not stop him.
    Ben did not linger in the room. Even with its refurbished new floor and walls, the memory of his mother sprawled out on the old tiles made Ben feel like he was trapped at the bottom of a swimming pool with no way to breach the surface for breath. He gulped a long swig of the bitter liquid and went to sit outside on the porch.
    Humidity clung on the air like the droplets of sweat that had already started to form on the cold bottle in his hand, but the night breeze brought in the scent of lavender from Ava Carmichael’s garden across the street.
    The motion sensor lights activated as Ben sank down on the front steps and took another draught of his beer. He wondered how many of their friends were at The Point to celebrate. Maybe Axel Cook—Point Pleasant’s resident mustachioed barkeeper who boasted a jovial countenance as he often proclaimed the bar’s unofficial slogan, ‘When you don’t see the point, go to The Point’ —would have let Nicholas sneak a beer or two for the occasion. Nicholas was a fun drunk. Just don’t tell the sheriff.
    Ben should have told Nicholas a long time ago. He should have swallowed every ounce of fear he felt over his best friend’s possible rejection. He should have told Nicholas the truth.
    In the wake of his mother’s death, Ben felt like a different person. Life changed even if on the outside it seemed to stay the same. Life was the shifting seasons that caused the fruit trees to flourish then wither. Life was dying at the age of forty-six while baking a cherry pie. Life was fucking short.
    “You didn’t show,” a familiar voice said from the sidewalk, and Ben looked up to see Nicholas standing on the other side of the picket fence that lined the front yard.
    “Hey,” Ben said as he finished his beer. “Sorry.”
    Nicholas unlatched the gate and walked into the yard, though he stopped a few feet away from where Ben sat. “Why didn’t you show?”
    Ben could not tell whether Nicholas was annoyed, angry, or worried. Maybe he was a bit of each, but Nicholas had always been able to keep himself on lockdown when he deemed it necessary.
    “I dunno. I just didn’t.”
    “Why are you mad?” Nicholas asked, narrowing his eyes as if this might help him to gauge Ben’s reaction.
    “I’m not mad,” Ben replied.
    “Then what are you?”
    “I don’t know, Nic,” Ben said. “I’m just confused, I guess. You barely know her and now you’re going to marry her?”
    Nicholas straightened as if he was preparing himself for battle. “I’m happy, Ben. I would hope you would be happy for me too.”
    “How can I be, exactly?” Ben asked, and he stood to face Nicholas. “How can I be happy when I know you don’t belong with her?”
    Nicholas blinked in surprise. “And who am I supposed to belong with, exactly?”
    “Me, you idiot!” Ben said before he could stop himself.
    “Is that what this is about?”
    Every muscle and tendon in Ben’s body went rigid. He knows. How long has he known?
    “You’re still going to be my best friend, Ben. Nothing is going to change that. I want you to be my best man!”
    A moth fluttered above Ben’s head. His hands shook like the flit of its wings as it battered itself against the light fixture by the front door. No, no, no. Nicholas had completely misunderstood.
    Ben could let it be. He could let Nicholas think he was a selfish asshole who thought marriage meant the end of friendships.
    Life was short, though.
    Too fucking short.
    “I