As I Close My Eyes (25 page)

“
I don’t know how or why you’re doing it either, but I think there’s a reason for everything. There’s some rational explanation for all of this, we just haven’t figured it out yet. When we do, we can tell your mother and Bill, but not until then.”

“
We shouldn’t have come here. This town is twisting my brain into bits,” I said as we began to roll up our towels and retreat to the bed and breakfast for the day.

“
How about we go to my parent’s house a day early? I’ll call them right now and see if it’s okay. My dad’s the only one there, so I’m sure he’ll love the company.”

“
Sounds like a plan to me. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

“
So ... you don’t think you’re really pregnant now, do you?” asked Ben.

“
No, it’s just the dream, or whatever it is. It’s Caroline, not me,” I replied, although I wasn’t totally sure of my answer.

I pushed that thought aside and focused on the one final thing I knew I had to do - find Congress Hall.

With the okay from Ben’s father for us to arrive a day before we said we would, we checked out early and packed up the Audi.

“
Can we make one final stop before we leave?” I asked.

“
Are you serious?”

“
Yeah, I know. It’s just that there was this one picture that we found of somewhere called Congress Hall and I feel like I’ve been there before.”

“
There was a brochure about it in the lobby of the bed and breakfast. Do you want me to run in and get it?”

“
Absolutely!” I was excited to see another landmark from my dreams.

When Ben came back out to the car, I rolled down the passenger-side window so he could hand me the pamphlet about the historic building.

“
It says here that presidents and other high political officers dating back to the late 1800s stayed there. One of them called it their ‘summer White House’ and people like John Philip Sousa stayed there. That would be the exact time frame of my dreams, which would fit right into the photo of John and Rebecca.” I studied the photos in the brochure, images of everything from debutante balls to staff pictures in front of the building. The history of it captivated me. “It was built in 1816. I can’t even comprehend that. It seems light years away. Oh, here ... it’s talking about the fire. ‘38 acres of Cape May’s seafront was destroyed when a huge fire swept through the town in November of 1878.’ HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?” I yelled as I looked through the sunroof in Ben’s car to the heavens above for anyone who would listen and maybe give me an answer. I read Ben more of the history of the building and in about five minutes, we were there.

Nestled towards the edge of the Cape, overlooking the water, stood this massive building too big to describe. It was true. It looked like ten White Houses pushed together on a vast green lawn surrounding the hotel. Images of women in white bustled dresses holding parasols and clinging to the arms of men in full suits and top hats flashed before me. I could see crowds of people strolling along on the deep green grass, playing croquet, and standing in groups, socializing with the other townspeople. It reminded me of Seurat’s
A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.

Once again, I knew I had been there before. It, too, was familiar. Much like the first time I saw Ben and knew he meant something to me, I was sure Congress Hall was a place Caroline frequented. I felt a sudden uncomfortable sadness though, but since the memory hadn’t yet played out in my dreams, I didn’t understand why.

“
Should I park so we can go in?” Ben asked, already pulling into the lot.

“
No, there’s no need. I already know what it looks like in there.”

Ben smirked.

My mental state at that moment wasn’t good. I had to lift my spirits up somehow because in just over two hours, we’d be at Ben’s parents’ house and I wanted to show the best side of Danielle Grayson.

We were driving over two hours up north to Scotch Plains, New Jersey, which would add a considerable amount of time to our trip back down south on Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t worry about that at the moment, though. I turned on the radio and blasted whatever song happened to be playing. Much to my disappointment, it was the saddest country song I had ever heard.

“
So, you know I love you, right?” asked Ben.

“
Yeeeaahhh,” I said.

“
I want you to know that my mother can be a little overbearing and intense, so just don’t take her too seriously. I’m sure she’ll like you much more than she likes me. Just be yourself.”

“
Ben, why are you telling me this? Are you afraid I’m going to have one of my flashbacks at their house?” I asked.

“
Yeah, I am. I just wish you could control it. Before, when it was only happening as you slept, it was okay. I could deal with that. But now, it’s like you just bleep yourself back to another reality and I’m left picking up the pieces in the present.”

“
I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could help it. I think it may have just been the atmosphere of Cape May. I’m sure it won’t happen at your parents’ house, Ben.”

“
You’re probably right,” Ben said, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. It was an ironic turn of events that I was reassuring him this time.
             

“
By the way, I think you have the cutest nose,” I told him, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“
What is it that you like so much about my nose?” Ben asked.

“
It’s perfectly straight. I’ve never seen a nose so perfect. It’s like one of those chiseled noses carved by a Renaissance artist.”

“
It is not. But since we’re playing this silly game, I love your ankles.”

“
My ankles? Seriously?”

“
Yup, there you have it. I love them. I love your body from the bottom all the way to the top. They’re exactly right. Ankles tell a man a lot about the rest of a woman's body.”

“
That’s just weird,” I said as I crossed my arms and stared out the window.

“
I have another one,” Ben said.

“
You can stop now,” I said to him, wondering what he was going to say next.

He began to pull over to the side of the road. Cars behind us raced past.

“
I didn’t mean stop the car,” I explained.

He paid no attention to my comment. “I love your eyes and the way your skin feels when I hold you. I love listening to you breathe while you sleep and I love holding your hand. I love the way you make me feel
-
like I want to be everything I said I’d be so you’re proud of me. I love your voice and your cute little laugh. Danielle ... I’ve completely fallen in love with you and I don’t know what my life would be like without you. I’m saying all of this because I want you to know I’m here for you. I know what you’re going through right now is unexplainable and I will stand by you through every second of time. Even if you pass out in front of my parents.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as Ben spoke. I reached out to hold his face and kiss him, but he beat me to it.

The rest of the drive was very pleasant. We listened to Ben’s favorite music on his iPod and talked about our future; where we wanted to live, the kind of house we would buy, and what we would do after I graduated college.

As we went over Ben’s family history one last time so I could be completely prepared to meet everyone, we passed by a sign that said “Welcome to Scotch Plains” and the relaxation I had felt for the past two hours faded away with a wave of anxiety that took its place. I knew that bastard would rear its ugly head. I had told myself that I would be confident and calm, but anxiety had to show up and now I was a nervous wreck.

Chapter 24

“
Benjamin,” said a gray-haired man who came out of a giant, oversized black front door at the entrance to the enormous house. The resemblance between the two made me gasp a bit. As he approached us, it was as if I was seeing Ben thirty years from now.

“
Hey, Dad,” yelled Ben from the car window as the Audi slowed to a stop on the patterned brick driveway.

“
This is your house?” I asked, completely stunned by its grand stature. Ben didn’t respond.

Ben’s father opened the door for me. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Danielle. I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

“
It’s wonderful to meet you too, Mr. Sheffield,” I replied as I stared in awe at the size of this mansion.

As Ben and his father grabbed the bags from the trunk, I took a moment to admire the house. It was a white colonial home with two columns in the front framing the entrance and a sweeping porch that welcomed everyone who arrived. Black shutters and a black front door with a yellow wreath made this house look like something out of
Better Homes and
Gardens
.
Perfectly trimmed bushes sat just below the first floor windows and I could see that the inside was kept just as orderly. I knew his father held some high-profile position doing something government-related, but even Ben couldn’t tell me exactly what he did. From the looks of it, the job certainly kept them very comfortable financially.

“
Danielle, come on in. I’ll give you a tour of the house,” said Mr. Sheffield as he grabbed my hand and took me into the foyer.

I could see where Ben got his love for art. His mother’s paintings were on every wall in the house with a few family photos scattered in between. The decorations were tasteful. Each room was festooned with comfortable couches, oversized chairs, and just the right amount of candles. The kitchen had ivory cabinets with glass windows on a few of the doors that showed off his mother’s collection of Lenox dishes. The island in the center of the kitchen was massive. Its rich cherry wood complimented the edges of the stained ivory cabinets surrounding the room. French doors led out to an impressive backyard.

When we finally made our way outside, I couldn’t tell where the lawn ended. A tree line almost a football field away towards the back was the only indication that some border existed. Lines created from a large mower were perfectly straight with alternating shades of green, blending from light to dark and back to light again. The patio we stood on, which looked out over the vast backyard, must have cost at least fifty thousand dollars. It was stone all the way around with great big globes at each pillar. So this is how the rich live, I thought to myself.

Exquisitely landscaped beds embellished every corner of the house. I thought Snow White might leap out of one of the bushes and join us for a glass of wine on the terrace, emerging in song surrounded by the many varieties of birds that called this yard home.

After we walked around the entire perimeter of the house, which took over fifteen minutes, Ben’s father graciously sat us down around elegant patio furniture just outside the French doors to the kitchen. When he went inside to get wine, beer, and some hors ‘d oeuvres, I felt like it was my chance to question Ben for not telling me earlier that he lived like a Kennedy.