This isn't weird.

All This Time

Breakfast was not the productive first meeting with Millie's sister that Ben had hoped for. Shelby's unexpectedly perceptive observations had left Molly awkward and distant, and Ben was in no mindset to set himself at ease, let alone anyone else. Mostly, it was just Walt and Shelby swapping lighthearted anecdotes about their respective spouses, and while Ben did on several occasions find himself laughing along, and even sneaking in a few offhanded quips of his own, by the end of the visit he had sobered enough to realize that that their happy marriage stories were reminding Molly of how miserably hers had failed.

He finally got a moment alone with her when Walt went to pay the bill and Shelby left for the bathroom.

"Listen, I'm really sorry," he said. "I was so drunk last night, I don't even remember calling you. I shouldn't have shown up to our first meeting hungover and high. I feel like a complete asshole. I swear, I never do stuff like this."

"Except when you do," Molly replied with a faint smile.

"Except when I do," Ben agreed.

"It's okay," Molly said. "I haven't really been myself today, either. Since Cammy took off, I've been..."

"Worried?"

"Sure." She tucked her hair back behind her ear. "If you wanted to... Shelby will be gone in the evening. You could come by the house. Last night, you said you wanted to see some pictures and things."

The reminder that he'd spend the rest of his life never knowing exactly what or how much he had said on that phone call made him die a little inside, but he managed to hold a smile. "Thanks. I'd like that."

On the drive back, Walt apologized. "I reckon I oughta known you wouldn't remember," he said.

"Well, you were right about one thing," Ben responded. "I won't be tempted to drink again any time soon. Hey, who was Shelby? She looked too young to have known you guys back in high school. How did she know all that stuff?"

"Oh, that's the girl that's been helpin' take care of Molly for the past couple months. Hired her to take some of the stress offa Millie May."

The way Millie had described her family, Ben had assumed that they'd had little in the way of financial resources. He started to ask how they were able to afford professional care, but the answer popped into his head before he got the words out: Arthur. A vision of Arthur's beautiful, catalog-ready home flashed through his mind, sending an uncomfortable twinge down his chest. The man really was able to provide for her in a way that he couldn't.

... But the man had also lied to her, taken advantage of her situation, robbed her of her autonomy and contributed to a full-fledged nervous breakdown. It was time, Ben realized, to stop comparing himself to the idealized version of Arthur he'd built up in his mind. Arthur was as damaged and flawed as the rest of them.

"I reckon she's just picked up little snippets of their family history here and there and put it all together... Sounded like Molly didn't realize she was payin' so much attention," Walt continued. "Gotta be honest... I was there for all that—when their brother passed, I mean. I hated Molly for a good long time for lettin' Millie May go through it all alone like she did. I understand now it was all a little more complicated than that, but... well, it was a teeny-tiny bit satisfyin' seein' her get called out like that. Guess I'm a little petty."

"I get it," Ben said. He was starting to get a lot of things.

Billy Shears greeted them on the porch with his usual off-key aria, but George waited until Ben was seated on the couch before slipping out of the shadows to rub against his ankles. Observing his usual nervous expression, Walt laughed.