Benjamin Cooks

Benjamin flicked a speck of dust off Rebecca's fork, struck a match, and lit the candles. The china and silverware sparkled as he dimmed the lights. She'd be home soon.

He opened the oven. Gravy-scented steam poured out. He pulled the roasting pan out and set it on the counter. Lifting a leg of lamb didn't used to tug at his back like it did now, back when he and Rebecca had first moved in together, but that was a long time ago. He took a serving dish out of the cupboard and scooped broccoli and pearl onions from the stovetop pot into the dish. He took a spoonful of butter from the stick in the refrigerator and popped it onto the broccoli. Dr. Mendes wouldn't like that, if he ever found out about it, but what did the doc know about celebrating a twenty-fifth anniversary?

Last step. Benjamin clipped the ends of the stems from the lilacs he'd picked up from the florist earlier and stuck them in the vase. Then he dropped an aspirin tablet in the water to keep the lilacs fresher longer. Rebecca hated it when flowers wilted too fast. The vase went on the table and Benjamin sat down, facing the door.

Five-fifteen. Any minute now.

He took a seat in the living room and waited. A half hour went by. Benjamin checked his watch. Rebecca didn't come.

Well, sure, things had been a little rocky lately, but was she just going to duck out of their anniversary? After all the trouble he'd gone to over this dinner? He'd told her he was going to cook tonight. She should be happy about it – he hadn't cooked in weeks, although he'd cooked so frequently in the early days of their relationship back when they first met in high school. Got a lot of teasing for being a boy who cooked, too – wasn't that humiliation worth anything, even all these years later?

He stood up and paced around the living room, trying to cool his mind, his blood. It didn't work very well.

He opened the front door. The setting sun kicked up a light breeze. That helped his temper as it drifted in. He backed into the living room and sat on the couch, breathing deeply.

The photo album rested on the coffee table in its usual place. He hadn't looked through in such a long time. He picked it up and flipped to the first page with the most recent picture, from last year's trip to Alex's beach house. So lucky their son was doing so well. The picture showed Benjamin and Rebecca on the beach with a mimosa each, at about the same time of day it was now, with the sun just going down. Alex had snapped that photo, with the sun just off center in the frame so it didn't burn the picture out altogether. Benjamin could see Rebecca's image with perfect clarity; she still looked so darn good in a swimsuit, and he didn't look too bad himself.

He turned a few pages and saw the picture of them at Alex's college graduation. There they were, all three of them, Alex and Rebecca and himself. So proud they were just about floating off the lawn of the quad.

A few more pages and he came to his favorite picture of Rebecca in her birthing-center bed, holding baby Alex. He remembered taking that one himself, trying so hard to focus through his happy tears. Sure enough, the picture was a tiny bit out of focus, but he could still see the melting expression on Rebecca's face. Benjamin felt his vision blur just a bit as he looked at the picture. It always did that to him.

The next pictures showed Rebecca in all kinds of poses, sometimes with him and sometimes by herself. Rebecca on a picnic blanket, just before a sudden rain shower nearly ruined their lunch and set them both laughing under a tree, as he remembered. Rebecca washing dishes and gritting teeth at him, as she crossed her eyes – washing dishes was his usual job except when he cooked, and she never liked dishwashing, but she usually managed to be good-tempered about it. The two of them leaning against their first car, a used VW – his mom had taken that one.

Last page. Where...Where was the wedding picture?

He flipped through the album. Where was that picture?

A shadow crossed in front of the door. Rebecca came in.

Before he could stop himself, Benjamin snapped “Where have you been?” Crud. Nothing like greeting your wife with a nasty remark.

Sure enough, Rebecca froze on the threshold and glared at him. “What's got into you?”

Benjamin heaved a sigh. “Oh, hell, I'm sorry,” he muttered. “I got upset when you were late for dinner and now I can't find our wedding photo. Have you seen it?”

Rebecca's shoulders relaxed and she actually smiled. “Oh yeah,” she said. “I'll show you after dinner, but first...” She reached into her purse – the extra large one that she rarely carried, Benjamin noticed for the first time – and pulled out a pink box. “Dessert.”

Benjamin looked down at the floor as his face began to burn. “So that's what kept you, huh?”

“It's one thing that kept me,” Rebecca answered. “I'll show you later.” She spoke more quickly than usual and moved into the kitchen to the table, to keep him from asking any more questions, probably. “Let's eat. Smells great.”

Over dinner, they talked about all kinds of things. Rebecca talked about work – her patients, the doctors, the other nurses. On this day, the head of admin had been in rare form, even more strict than usual about useless rules. Fortunately, Rebecca had found ways around her long ago, and she was in a perfectly good mood. Benjamin felt his heart turn to mush. It had been months since his last mushy feeling.

When dinner was done, they cleared the table and moved to the couch. Rebecca didn't start the dishes. For a second, Benjamin felt a spurt of annoyance course through his blood. Come on, Ben, he told himself. Don't mess up the evening.

Rebecca opened her purse and took out a flat package wrapped in brown paper. “Happy anniversary,” she hummed, and handed it over.

Flat, a few inches square. The wedding photo? Couldn't be. Too big. So where was the picture?

Benjamin unwrapped the brown paper, set it aside, and looked. It was the wedding photo in a simple silver frame, just the kind he liked. Rebecca usually liked things a little more ornate. So sweet of her.

Benjamin turned to her. “Happy anniversary, hon.”

Rebecca tucked herself under his arm.

They sat together for a half hour looking at the framed photo in silence. Then they got up and washed the dishes.