Chapter 36: 35 • Goodbyes & Miracles

“How was school?” Eva questioned, lightly threading her fingers through five year old Lillian’s hair.

Lillian’s dark eyes, so much like her father’s, were sweeping over the rows of potato chips in the store, nodding distractedly in response to Eva’s question.

“No new stories of your favourite teacher Mr Walker this time?” Eva smiled, watching her little girl raise herself on her tiptoes and reach forward for her favourite brand of the snack.

Lillian shook her head, scanning the labelling on the packet of chips and only then lifting her chin to meet Eva’s eyes. “No, he called in sick today. So school was a little dull. And the teacher who took his place was old and mean.”

“Old and mean?” Eva asked, feeling something coil in her stomach. What did her daughter mean when she called someone mean? Had someone hurt her? Had they done something that left a scar in Lillian’s mind… or had they done something that left a bruise on Lillian’s skin? “What do you mean old and mean?”

“You know, I wanted to feed the hamster we keep in class, but Tessa wouldn’t let me because she said it was her turn today,” Lillian grumbled, looking up at Eva with pitiful eyes. “So I pulled her hair and grabbed the food from her to give the hamster myself.”

“That’s not very nice, Lily,” Eva frowned.

“But Tessa wouldn’t let me do what I wanted! The teacher who took Mr Walker’s place was very annoyed with me too, and said some mean stuff in front of the class. Mr Walker wouldn’t have scolded me. That’s why he’s my favourite.”

Eva placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and crouched down in front of her, shuffling to the side of the aisle so that another woman with a cart could push through easily. “Lily,” Eva stressed, “you shouldn’t have pulled Tessa’s hair. It must have hurt the poor girl.”

“If she just gave me the food and let me feed the hamster, I wouldn’t have done anything!”

Eva sighed and shook her head. “Darling, you can’t hurt somebody to get what you want.”

“Why?” Lillian frowned, squeezing the packet of chips between her small palms. “Daddy always hurts you to get what he wants, and you never say anything.”

Eva froze.

“So I knew that Tessa wouldn’t do anything too. I knew she’ll just let me feed the hamster.” Lillian grinned at Eva, so sweet and innocent. So malice-free. Like she was proud of learning something and making use of it for herself. Like she believed Eva would applaud her for doing so.

Lillian moved forward and placed the snack inside the basket hanging on Eva’s arm, one of those smaller shopping carts that was carried rather than pushed around. They were here only for snacks, after all.

“I’m going to go play a little in the kids’ area, okay?” Lillian beamed up at Eva and then darted past her, straight towards the tiny play area that was right within Eva’s line of sight.

Eva stayed put in that crouched position on the floor a little longer, too frozen, too shell-shocked to move. She was positive that Lillian had never been around when Vincent got into one of his moods. She had always made certain of that – especially knowing first-hand what witnessing her mother’s suffering did to her own mind. Eva didn’t want that for her little girl, she didn’t.

So how had Lillian known that Vincent sometimes used force to get what he wanted? Did Lillian sometimes hear things that even Eva couldn’t control the volume of? Did Lillian crawl out of bed the way Eva had done as a kid? Did she sneak out of her room the way Eva had? Did she peek through the bannisters the way Eva had? Did she watch Vincent’s wrath rain down on Eva just like Eva herself had watched Tristan with her own mother?

How long would it take till Vincent became comfortable with hurting Eva in front of Lillian, the way Tristan eventually had with Caroline in front of Eva?

When would history stop being the present?

When would the chain break?

When would this madness end?

How much more pain would it take?

The questions left a horribly hollow ache inside Eva’s chest.

Letting a small shudder rip through her body, Eva rose to her feet, the weight of the shopping basket heavy on her arm now. She turned around and stumbled into an old man, catching herself before her feet could trample his own.

“I’m sorry, I…” her voice faltered when something about his appearance struck Eva as eerily familiar. His hair was completely white – a testament of his age – and while Eva didn’t and hadn’t ever known any elderly person, there was still an instinct in her that told her she knew this man. His eyes were deeply sunken into their sockets, crowded in by wrinkled skin and creases – but still such a clear, warm blue.

“Benjie?” The term of endearment slipped out of Eva’s mouth before she could think too much of it. She hadn’t seen her old chauffer since the last day of high-school. She’d never expected to see him ever again.

The old man paused in his steps and peered at Eva’s face, his expression morphing into one of confusion. “Evelyn?” he asked in a tone of wonder. “Is it really you, Eva?”

Eva felt a sudden stinging in her eyes. And her throat was closing up all too soon. She’d never felt like this before. She’d never thought there’d be a day where the tears she shed would be out of happiness – but she’d cried when she held Lillian in her arms for the very first time. And that had been out of happiness.

Eva realised she wanted to cry now too. And now too, it seemed to be out of a rush of unexpected joy.

“Oh, it’s been so long,” Benjie muttered in a hoarse voice, his mouth lifting into a smile. Nostalgia flooded his eyes. “How have you been, child? You look the same. Taller. Much, much taller. But still the same Eva.”

Eva couldn’t find her voice for a while. She hadn’t seen this man in, oh, ages. It was like finding a part of a home that she’d never had, never known. Benjie had been the only constant, the only stable part of her entire life with Logan. Both while her mother was there, and even after she’d left.

He had once been the safest place Eva had – the only solace she’d been provided. Because even after she’d had to cut off ties with Maite and Terrence – the only friends she’d ever known – it had been Benjie who’d remained.

Eva didn’t think she ever got to say goodbye to him. He’d dropped her off to school on her last day and then driven her back to Logan’s house. And then, when graduation day came, it had been another driver. Benjie had simply… vanished. It had hurt, more than Eva had liked to admit to herself back then.

There seemed to be no residual anger in Eva now though. She just felt a touch of bittersweet ache, a touch of bittersweet joy.

“Yes,” she nodded with a small smile, “it’s still the same Eva.” She hadn’t changed a bit – from the daughter of Caroline Monroe, to the step-daughter of Logan, to the wife of Vincent Dyer. She hadn’t changed. She was still the same Eva. And that somehow sounded more and more like a curse as the days flew by.

She hadn’t changed a bit – was that why nothing else changed either? Did everything remain the same because she remained the same? Did history keep becoming the present because she herself was history unchanged? How much more pain would it take to not be still the same Eva?

Benjie’s eyes flickered to the direction of the counter, where a queue had formed. “My granddaughter’s next,” he commented and then looked back at Eva. “We’re just collecting some snacks for the road. It’s going to be a long drive to where she lives – I’m moving in with her, see.”

Eva’s eyes spotted Lilian running around in the play area, and satisfied that her kid was safe, she turned back to Benjie. “You must be happy,” she eventually said, a small stroke of envy brushing through her. There had been a time when he was somewhat the friend/grandfather figure for Eva – and it was alarming to know that he had a world of his own.

“I am,” Benjie told her, “It will be nice to spend my last few months with her. My granddaughter, she brings me a lot of joy, see.”

Eva’s heart skipped a beat. The feeling was sickening. “Last few months?”

Benjie’s answering smile, and the sudden brightness in the blue of his eyes answered Eva’s question. “The doctors say I don’t have much time left.”

“Damn the doctors,” Eva said angrily, feeling like she’d just been cheated out of something. Why was life so empty of hope? So empty of a future? What sick joke was this – her path crossing that of someone she cared about deeply, in her own way, only for them to be ripped away? What was even the point of her and Benjie meeting again if it was only going to be for the last time? Where was the mercy in this? Where was the joy? “They don’t know anything.”

“You remind me so much of my granddaughter,” Benjie chuckled. His eyes flickered towards the counter again. “She said the same thing. Doctors don’t know anything.” He laughed again. “Bet they know a lot more than you and I though.”

Eva just stared at the man, wondering how he could laugh in the face of such a horrible truth.

“Don’t look so shocked, kid,” Benjie said in a kind tone, “I was going to die one day anyway. And I’m proud to say I’ve lived a whole life. I’m old and grey, not a young man in his thirties. There’s no tragedy in my end. I lived, Eva. I lived.”

But Eva hadn’t. She had no clue what value life could hold until she’d created one and brought it into this world herself. Her eyes found Lillian’s figure once more.

She lifted a trembling hand and pointed a finger in the direction of her little girl. “There,” Eva said in a shaky voice. “There. That’s her. That’s my girl, Benjie.” Her girl who would never know the kindness of this old man.

“Goodness,” Benjie murmured, his tone soft, “it has been a long time, hasn’t it? So many years. So many.”

Eva didn’t look at him, didn’t show him the thin layer of water coating her eyes. “I named her Lily,” she said instead. “Lillian.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Benjie said.

“I remember you saying that to me when my mum told you my name,” Eva told him. “When we first met.”

“My memory is not what it used to be, child,” he said in an apologetic tone. “But I trust that you remember it well.”

Eva tore her eyes away from her daughter and turned to face Benjie. “Do you think she loved me as much as I love my little girl?” She didn’t know where the question came from. Was it the fact that this was a man close to death and he’d take her question to the grave with him? Or was it that this was a man she’d known for a whole lifetime and was probably the only one left that she trusted? Either way, it felt nice to dare ask the question out loud.

“Caroline was a good woman,” Benjie answered after a while. “But a weak woman.”

Eva didn’t understand his response. Or maybe she did, and didn’t particularly want to explore its depth just yet.

“I will never leave my child,” she found herself saying. Eva promised this to Lillian every night, but it didn’t seem enough. She need to let everyone know. She needed to let the world know. Eva would never ever leave Lillian behind. She couldn’t. “I am not my mother. I am not Caroline Monroe.”

“No, you are not,” Benjie murmured. “And if you say you won’t ever leave her, then I believe you, Eva. I believe you.”

There was a sudden silence, as if time was rushing out now. As if now was all that the two of them had until it was a forever kind of goodbye. Eva no longer wanted to ask him why he’d left her, but she didn’t know what else to say either.

“Before I leave,” Benjie spoke up, an odd touch of sorrow in his voice, “I want to tell you that I tried to help her. I tried to help your mother.”

Eva swallowed painfully. “What?”

“I suspected that her marriage to Logan might be… questionable.” He tried to smile, but seemed unable to. “When it became more apparent and obvious that she needed help, I made a call to the police. But see, calling help is only the first step. It would mean nothing if your mother didn’t admit to being hurt.” He breathed in shakily and then released it. “So when the cops showed up at Logan’s door that night, Caroline turned them away. Said her bruises were from an accident. A fall down the stairs or something like that… and that was that.”

And that was that. The words weighed so much on Eva’s heart.

“My words meant nothing if your mother wouldn’t support the claim,” Benjie sighed heavily. “Logan found out it was me soon enough. He didn’t do anything right away, of course. Kept me around to drive you to school – and then when it was your last day, he released me from my job. Said I was to leave right away, that if I stayed any longer in his premises, he’d call in the cops for trespassing.” Clear blue eyes found Eva’s cornflower ones. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Eva shook her head, her eyes angrily blinking back tears. “You don’t have to say sorry,” she told him in a choked voice. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Benjie. It doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” he told her quietly, his eyes haunted. It seemed like this was something that had plagued his mind all these years. “When I found out I have only a few more months left in this world… my first thought was the little girl I’d left behind. I need for her to know that I did care. That I did try to help. That I wanted a better life for her.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. “I believe in a God, see. And ever since my last appointment at the hospital, I’ve been praying for a miracle – for a chance to make things right. Your old school had no idea about your current whereabouts. Logan refused to see me. So when I woke this morning, knowing I was going miles and miles away today, I had lost all hope. I thought I’d never be given that miracle… I thought I deserved it too for not being able to help you.”

Benjie reached forward and patted Eva’s head gently. And it went to show just how much she trusted him that her first instinct was not to flinch away from him. “But I stepped into this particular aisle in this particular supermarket, and there you were – my miracle.” His smile was a watery one. “I’m glad I got this chance to speak to you, Eva. I feel…” he rested a palm over his heart and patted the area, “…I feel like I can breathe again.”

Eva ground her jaw together, adamant on not crying. She couldn’t. Not here. She inhaled deeply, and then slowly exhaled. “Just keep breathing, Benjie,” she told him with a pleading smile, “for as long as you can, okay? That’s all I want from you. Just keep breathing.”

Benjie smiled. “And you keep fighting,” he told her. “Little Eva was always a fighter. Grownup Eva better be the same too.”

“I promise,” Eva whispered, trying to capture the blue of Benjie’s eyes in her memory. She didn’t want to say goodbye yet, not to him.

But if there was anything Eva had come to realise – as Evelyn Monroe, as Evelyn Dyer – it was that goodbyes were inevitable.

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Written on; 03rd May 2019

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