Old Habits Die Soft

Chapter 1
Cold Calling

Chapter Description: Ben gets called to his best friend's house in the middle of the night.

[img align=left; footer=’’; border=0; showfooter=1;]http://i.imgur.com/CkYcm.gif[/img]

It was freezing outside. Ben jammed his hands into his pockets, trying to keep warm. It was no use, he thought, shivering as he jogged along the snowy pathway that led to the house on the hill. The house itself was not visible in the dark, only the warm, orange glow visible from the ten windows illuminated the path before him. One window was particularly entrancing, shifting the colors that shimmered on the white walkway. It was probably the football game he was missing, he realized, breathing heavily as he trudged through the crunching ice under his boots.

Could he have called any later? It was nearly eleven o’clock, he noted, as he pressed the “illuminate” button on his digital watch. The house was impressive, even on a moonless night, easily spreading over the landscape to encompass the entire hill. The hedges hid it from the highway, too. He found that out by stumbling into one after climbing out of his car in pitch blackness. He had sped down the road to get to the house at near 80 mph.

“This had better be good, Chris,” Ben muttered as he pressed the embossed silver doorbell, the sound of clanging chimes cutting through the crisp air and then being immediately silenced by the surrounding snow.

Ben sighed deeply as he waited for a sound to come through the thick, wooden door, but there was nothing but the steadiness of his own breath, thickly visible in the air. He fumbled in his pocket for a lighter while he pulled out a cigarette. As he lit the end, he breathed in deeply, feeling much more at ease and calm. He leaned against the columns on the old Victorian house and pressed the button a second time.

After what seemed like ages, muffled sounds of footsteps were heard through the heavy doorway. The porch light next to Ben’s head snapped to life, casting his long shadow onto the walkway behind him. As the door creaked open slowly, the expected sight of his college buddy, Chris, was not to be found. Instead, a tall, raven-haired woman leaned in the doorframe.

“Well, hello there, Ben,” she greeted him, a smirk gracing her lips as she realized she was not who he had expected.

“Oh! Uh, hello there, Mrs. Heben, is Chris home?” he stammered, “he, uh, he sent me a text telling me to come here as soon as I could, so, uh, so I rushed down here to see if everything was alright and—“

“Relax, Ben, everything’s fine. I was the one who asked him to call you down here,” she replied cooly. Ben noticed the pale band of skin that ran around her ring finger on her otherwise tan hand as she rested it on the wood of the door.

“You, you did? Is everything okay, Mrs. Heben?” he asked, taking a long drag off his cigarette and then turning his head to blow the smoke away from Chris’ mothers’ face.

“Everything’s fine, Ben, really. You can call me Rebecca, by the way,” she added, “come on in, I’ll explain inside. You can throw that away, too,” she said, gesturing to the lit cigarette, glowing red in the dark of the patio.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized, flicking the cigarette into the snow where it hissed into darkness.

“No, I meant the whole pack. You won’t be needing it, anymore,” she said, disappearing into the beautiful house.