Forever Young

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“About what?”

“Your marriage.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re miserable. She checks up on you at work. She reads your e-mails when you’re not home. She even reads your texts when you're sleeping.”

He was right. His little cousin, who wasn’t so little anymore, was right. 

Benny Cohen was fifteen years younger than Dean. The relationship was more than two family members. Dean Gibbs thought of his cousin as the little brother he never had. Benny learned to appreciate his cousin’s guidance. Upon entering high school, facing life-altering, pubescent issues, he phoned Dean regularly.

As the youngest of three children, Dean was always on the receiving end. He now gave advice to Benny and enjoyed it.

As Benny grew into a teenager, Dean was the first person he would call when facing trouble. Failed test. Skipped class. How to approach a girl. 

Dean still laughs thinking about the time Benny took the bus from New Jersey into the 42nd Street Terminal to spend the weekend with his cousin.

Dean heard about a new sports bar and thought Benny would enjoy watching the NCAA basketball tournament there. As they walked inside, a large, rotund man greeted them asking what they were doing.

Dean grinned. “We’re here for dinner and drinks.”

The man explained that Dean could enter, “but the kid’s gotta stay outside.”

When he asked why, he opened the door and said, “Look.”

Dean did a double-take and rubbed his eyes while his face turned red. He saw the large sports bar with multiple TV’s and topless waitresses. 

The man was chuckling. “Now d’you get it?” 

Dean looked at Benny. “Put your tongue back in your mouth.”

Benny’s eyes widened as the door remained open. “Tell him we wanna stay. I have a twenty and I’m willing to part with it.”

The man removed his hand, allowing the doors to close. “Ha. You think I’m riskin’ our liquor license for a Jackson. You talk c-note and we can keep the kid in the back, outa sight for a few minutes.”

Dean was shaking his head and smirking as he thought about explaining this to his friends at work on Monday morning.

“Dean. Dean. You gotta let me in.”

“Listen Kid. For a hundred bucks we can go get a great dinner, watch the games, and I don’t have to hide you.”

“Yeah but, I’ve never seen that in person before. You’ll be the coolest guy at my school.”

“Great. Thirty-two freakin’ years old and I’ll finally be the coolest guy in high school.”

Dean looked at the man, thanked him, and buttoned his overcoat on this windy night.

“Listen to me one day you’ll see all that, I promise, but all I need is your mother yelling at me because the place was busted.”

Once Benny graduated from college, the relationship morphed into more of an equal bonding. Dean was most comfortable sharing parts of his life with his younger cousin he could not dare share with his wife or parents.

Benny had witnessed Dean’s misery. He had stayed at their house and watched her narcissistic behavior take hold of Dean’s life. He was correct. Dean’s life was miserable. He had married a woman who was in love with him before they ever met.

When questioned why he would marry such an unhappy person who he had nothing in common with, the answer stunned Benny.

“It won't be so bad. It’ll make my dad happy, and the oncologist explained that the mental aspect of the fight is half the battle. Besides, my parents seem to love her.”

“I know Uncle William is dying of cancer and wants you married, but do you really think marrying a woman who you don’t like, forget love, is a good thing? Dude, your parents aren’t the ones who live with her. You do. I get it. She is nice when you go to their house but then she berates you when you two are alone. It’s not healthy. She will kill you.”

As Dean continued in his misery, Benny was always available. The friendship was so embedded, logistics mattered little. Dean had moved from New York City to Boca Raton years earlier. He would fly to New Jersey two or three times a month always making time to meet Benny for dinner.

He understood Dean’s despair but never passed judgment. He always had a positive remark or suggestion to get through the difficulties.

“She’s turning the boys against me,” he said last year during a late-night conversation they had been having in recent years.

“I know. It’s not hard to miss.”

“Ben, I can't take it anymore. She’s spent all my money, turned my friends against me, and my family has moved away from me.”

“Dean, you must take a stand. It’s time to move away. Do it for you. I know you’re staying for your kids, but she will make it her business to take you down as hard as she can and take your sons with her.”

Dean exhaled while rubbing his chin. “Hey, it’s two o’clock in the morning. What are you drinking?”

His grin grew large. “Vodka rocks. The good news is no matter what I drink I no longer get drunk.”

He stared at his cousin. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you? I get it. Why did I marry her? Just to make my dad happy. Had two kids to make him happy. And then what’s he do? He dies and I’m left holding the bag.”

He had grown into a young man and made it his business to always be available to the first person who listened to him when he was growing up.

“I’m always here for you and, I don’t know, maybe you should get a medal. But I’ll tell you this, you are not the same guy you used to be. She’s sucked the life right out of you. You’re living in fear. You don’t do what she tells you and you’re toast. The constant yelling. Dean, it’s not normal and maybe I’m wrong here, but you don’t think it's taking a toll on the boys?”

The tears began slowly. Dean looked up, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He glanced out the window and turned his head back to Benny.

“Hey. Where are you? Where d'you go?” he asked in a louder voice. “Benny? Benny?”

Nina Goldberg had walked downstairs and turned on the kitchen light, piercing through the darkness.

“I cannot believe you. It’s two o’clock and you have the audacity to scream. I was sound asleep. What don’t you get about that? You had to wake me up. You are an asshole. I hate you and you know what else? My family despises you. I have no friends because of you, and you don’t think the boys know what a loser you are. You know what, just stay here. I’m going upstairs and locking the door so don’t even think about coming back to bed. In fact, why don’t you think about moving out? The boys want nothing to do with you and I’ll make sure you never see them again.”

She turned and trudged upstairs. He heard the door close.

“Thank God she didn’t slam it, but she probably locked it.”

Dean stood and walked to the light switch, switching it off. He sighed and gently sat on the steps leading to the upstairs bedroom, craving a cigarette.

The tears began again. He heard the door open and the heavy footsteps.

“Oh my God. What is your problem? You have thirty seconds to get upstairs. Will you move? Now?”

She turned and walked back. He was lost in thought.

“Jeez, Benny. More of that control stuff. Don’t come to bed. Don’t come to bed. Why aren’t you in bed. I really could use your help. I don’t think we quite finished. Kid, I love our conversations, but this one didn’t entirely end. I have no plan. I mean, she doesn’t want me out. She just wants to threaten me and tell me she wants me to leave or that she’ll pack up the kids. Living with the threat is worse than the act itself. I know you can hear me. Well, I mean, thanks for the time. I recognize what I gotta do, even if I am too scared to do it. Hey, tomorrow night?”

Dean had been meeting his cousin for the past two years in the kitchen of his house in the middle of the night. He was always a stable ear and his advice was logical. He was the sounding board needed amid the tumult that had become his life.

He heard the pounding of the footsteps. “That’s it. Now I am locking the door. All you wanna do is ruin my life. You are the most selfish bastard who ever lived. Sitting down here just thinking of yourself because everything is always about you. I’ll be exhausted in the morning but what do you care?”

She again turned, and this time he heard the slam. 

“Now she wants me to beg her to let me in. Benny, where d'you go? It’s been three years. Three years. Your parents and sister are coping, but I need you.”

His eyes shut again as he recalled that dreadful morning when the phone rang.

“Hello?” he whispered, adjusting his eyes to the clock on his night table reading six o’clock.

“Dean? It’s Melissa. There was an accident last night. Benny didn’t survive. I don’t know more than that. Funeral is on Sunday. I will e-mail all the information.”

He sat up, listening to Benny’s sister, thinking he was dreaming. “Melissa. I’m so sorry.”

“God, he loved you.” Click.

“And?” his wife asked. “What now?”

“Benny’s dead.”

“Can you stop joking, please? I wish he were because you waste so much time talking to him.”

And there it was. No feeling. Another relationship she wanted to kick in the teeth. He flew up to New Jersey for the funeral. It seemed as if time was standing still. His cousin, brother, friend, protégé. Gone in an instant.

Three years later he was still speaking with him. The advice was sharp as ever. The light-heartedness remained. Bracing himself to go back to bed and the argument to begin, he remembered Benny’s words last night. “You were the first person I could ever say anything to. I mean my deepest thoughts and the dumbest things I have done. You’ve taught me so much”

“Ya know what Kid? You are the only person I can say anything to, my deepest thoughts and the dumbest things I have done. You’ve taught me as much, if not more than I have taught you. Do me a favor. Don’t leave me again.”