“Not a problem. I spoke to Robert, the owner of the cabin, and told him about the snowmobile. Do you think you can give him a rough idea where you left it?”
“Sort of.” Tim’s face flushed. “I’ll pay for everything. I still have some of Marcello’s money left.”
“It’ll be fine,” Eric said.
“How much does a snowmobile cost?”
“Oh, around eight thousand I think.”
Tim let his head thump back on the pillow. “Think I can still model with a big ugly scar running down my arm?”
Eric chuckled. “I hope not. Once was enough.”
“True.”
They chatted for a while, Tim happy for a sympathetic ear. Then they settled down like an old married couple and read together. Tim flipped through his book, but his eyes kept returning to the cover of Eric’s. The painting on the front was of a woman sitting on a bed and looking out a window. The subject matter wasn’t the most interesting, but the way daylight flooded into the room made it exceptional.
“What is that?” Tim asked, setting down his book.
“Edward Hopper,” Eric replied. “You probably know the—”
“Café painting, yeah. I never really liked that one, but the painting on the front… Can I see it?”
Eric handed him the book, waiting patiently while Tim browsed. Inside were more paintings like the one on the cover—simple, clean, and almost always featuring light bathing a wall or pressing against the night’s darkness. Tim lost himself in the book, embarrassed when he finally came back to find Eric still watching him.
“He’s good, isn’t he?”
Tim laughed. “He’s brilliant!”
“I’d love to own one of his paintings,” Eric said wistfully.
“Why don’t you?”
“Because they cost quite a bit more than your average snowmobile.” Eric winked. “You really like art, don’t you? Have you ever tried?”
“Painting?” Tim licked his lips. Why not? Without Eric, he might have croaked in that cabin all miserable and alone. “Yeah. I paint.”
“Really?” Eric sat up straight. “Are you any good?”
Tim just laughed.
“Regardless, I’d like to see,” Eric said. “If you don’t mind.”
Tim did mind. Sharing his paintings was a huge deal to him, but he thought he could trust Eric. “They’re all at my parents’ house. I haven’t painted in ages. A frat house isn’t the most inspirational environment. And I’m sort of private about the whole thing.”
“Oh.”
Eric sounded disappointed, so Tim was quick to add, “Next time I visit my folks, I’ll grab a few of the less embarrassing ones to show you.”
“That would be nice.”
The nurse barged in to the room with Tim’s lunch, and Eric headed to the cafeteria to fend for himself. In the afternoon, the doctor came in and finally cleared Tim for takeoff. Eric dialed a number on his cell phone and conjured up some plane tickets to get them home that evening. Tim felt even more in his debt, not that Eric seemed to expect the slightest hint of gratitude for what he was doing. But Tim would find a way to pay him back. If not financially, then somehow.
Chapter Eighteen
A new year always brought change, and Tim suspected most of that would happen at the frat house. Maybe that’s why he avoided returning to campus. He had only shown up once at night, shortly after he and Eric had returned, to pick up his car. It was there, no worse for wear. In fact, there was no sign Travis had driven it at all, which Tim found disappointing. A letter of some sort would have been nice, or maybe a lonely rose on the passenger seat or dried tears on the steering wheel. But there was nothing. Tim drove the car back to Eric’s house, where he stayed in one of the guest rooms.
Life was good for that solitary week. Eric cooked for him or took him out for dinner. In between meals they hung out around the house and talked or went for little walks in the neighborhood. Then New Year’s Eve came, with it one of Eric’s famous parties, and the calm serenity was chased away by drunken revelry.
This fantasy life of luxury and wealth couldn’t go on forever. On the first of the year, Tim made an appearance at the frat house. No one questioned where he had been, since most of the brothers were still gone for the holidays. When Tim entered his room, he wasn’t surprised to see changes. His side was much the same, but the family photo was gone from Travis’s nightstand, replaced by a basketball trophy. A number of cardboard boxes were in various states of being unpacked.
A tall redheaded guy named Rick came in shortly afterwards. Tim had seen him around the house before, but didn’t know much about him. They made small talk before Tim wandered downstairs to hang out in the common room. A lot of the guys were smoking pot to cure their hangovers. Tim ignored them, sitting on the couch and staring blankly at the television until Quentin plopped down next to him.
“Hey, Little. Have a good holiday?”
Tim nodded. “Not bad. You?”
“My sister’s a bitch and my mom can’t cook. Same as every year.”
Tim laughed, but mostly because he was expected to.
“Did you see Rick is your new roommate?”
“Yeah,” Tim turned his attention back to the television.
Quentin dug in his pocket for his chewing tobacco. “Travis asked to be reassigned the second he saw me. Looked sort of pissed.”
Tim shrugged. “I guess I snore.”
“Is that it? He wouldn’t say.”
“I don’t know. He’s so damn quiet. It’ll be nice to have someone I can actually talk to.”
“Yeah,” Quentin said after watching him a moment longer. “Travis is kind of reserved. I’m surprised he made it through hazing. Hey, did you get any last night?”
“Just your mom,” Tim said, laughing when Quentin slugged him. And just like that, the topic had blown over. A little casual banter was all it took.
Life returned to normal after that. Occasionally Tim saw Travis around the house, but they managed never to be in the same room. It was back to going to classes, getting ripped at parties, and hanging out with Eric on quiet nights when he wouldn’t be missed. Tim passed the rest of the winter this way, comfortable in the routine.
Until the day he saw her.
Tim had come from his boring Mechanics of Materials class, eager to get out into the spring weather, when he noticed his shoe was untied. Someone walked by him, singing to herself while he stooped and tied the lace, her tune vaguely familiar. When he stood, he saw a tall black woman further down the hall but didn’t think much about it until she looked back. Then he froze.
Allison Cross.
She was older, naturally, and even more beautiful. She could almost be a different woman, but the way her eyes widened slightly before she turned away from him gave her away.
“Hey!” Tim chased after her, nearly running to catch up. “Allison, wait!”
Allison stopped, looked up at the heavens, and sighed. Then she turned around to face him, cradling a couple books against her chest.
“Hey!” he said, smiling at her. The gesture wasn’t returned. “Long time no see.”
Allison nodded slowly. “There’s a reason for that, isn’t there?”
“Yeah,” Tim said, growing serious. “How is he?”
“Ben?” Allison looked smug. “He’s great!”
“That’s good,” Tim said. “I mean, that’s what I hoped. Man, I can’t believe you go to school here. Does Ben—”
“Chicago,” Allison said, anticipating the question. “Other side of the country. Very, very, far away from here.”
“Yeah, okay,” Tim said, trying to laugh it off. “Don’t worry. It’s not like I’m going to track him down and ruin his life again. He’s better off without me.”
This earned him a little sympathy. “There’s a music college up there,” Allison said in more civil tones. “He’s still singing away with that beautiful voice of his.”
Just the thought of Ben’s voice
made Tim’s heart ache. “What about you? I remember you belting out a tune or two.” That’s what she had been singing under her breath. The song she and Ben had performed together at the talent show, the one with the lyrics designed to cut him up inside.
“I still sing,” Allison said, “but I don’t plan on making a career out of it. Well, it was nice seeing you.”
“Wait!” Tim hated how desperate he sounded. “Did Ben ever… I mean, he found someone, right?”
Allison chewed her bottom lip. Normally her answers came fast and snappy. “He moved on,” she said. “Eventually.”
But did Ben have someone new? If he did, then surely Allison would have said something. “As long as he’s okay. Too bad you guys don’t live closer together. It’s hard to picture you being apart.”
Allison smiled, and this time it wasn’t smug or sarcastic. “I still manage to see him occasionally. On the holidays and such.”
“That’s good. Well, tell him I said ‘hi’ next time you talk.” Tim hesitated. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Probably not.”
They laughed together, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and went their separate ways. When Tim left the building and walked outside, the birds were singing and a breeze rustled his hair. He felt lighter than he had in a long time. Benjamin Bentley, up in Chicago and taking the city by storm! It had been so long since Tim had heard anything new about Ben. The last few times he had seen him—well, none of them had been exactly positive. But now he had something new to picture, a happier ending for the greatest love of his life. Tim hopped in his car and headed over to Eric’s, eager to tell him all about it.
* * * * *
“Allison Cross!” Tim said for about the ninetieth time.
“A very exciting development,” Eric said. He’d already heard the whole story, Tim retelling some parts of it twice. Eric had listened patiently, eyes closed as he soaked up the sun next to the private pool behind the house. The weather wasn’t warm enough for swimming, but being outside felt good.
Tim resisted saying Allison’s name aloud again. He’d already made her sound like a celebrity. “It’s just that she’s connected to Ben,” he explained. “Sometimes that whole year I had with him feels unreal, like a story I convinced myself was true.”
Eric smiled. “But it was real, and there’s no reason you can’t have that again.”
Tim shifted on the patio chair. “With Ben?”
“Why not? Have you thought about contacting him? You know where he is now.”
“Allison said he had moved on.”
“So have you. I’m pretty sure you don’t cry yourself to sleep every night over Ben, and I doubt he has a dart board with your photo on it.”
Tim frowned. “Yeah, but I left him. Maybe he’s not angry anymore, but I doubt he’s forgiven me. I mean, if Travis showed up here out of the blue, I wouldn’t give him a second chance.”
Eric opened his eyes and considered him. “Don’t compare yourself to Travis. You might not have been perfect, but you gave Ben a year of your life, and it was more than just physical. That’s completely different than drunken sex and a cold shoulder the next morning.”
“I guess so.” Tim thought about it. “What if Gabriel came back into your life and said he regretted leaving you?”
Eric’s cheeks flushed, but he smiled. “Don’t think I haven’t fantasized about that. I’m sure Ben has too.”
“Yeah?”
“I can almost guarantee it.”
This made Tim entertain several fantasies of his own. He had never dreamed he’d have another chance with Ben. Lightning didn’t strike twice, did it?
“A lot has changed,” Eric prompted.
Tim snorted. “Hardly. I’m still in the closet. It’s just that I’ve gotten really comfortable with the idea of being there. Besides, Chicago isn’t exactly close.”
“A thousand miles is nothing in the name of—” Eric’s voice caught as he started coughing, a fit that lasted almost five minutes. This had been happening more and more recently. Tim was getting worried, but Eric still hadn’t confided in him. “Damn smoker’s cough,” he said once he could breathe again.
“What brand?” Tim asked.
“Sorry?”
“The brand you smoked. Which was your favorite?”
“Oh.” Eric looked surprised. “Uh, Camels.”
“Yeah, but what kind?”
Eric grasped for an answer before he looked at Tim anew. “Why does it matter?”
Tim just stared in response.
Eric sighed. “You know, don’t you?”
Tim swallowed and nodded.
“For how long?”
“Since before Christmas. I kept waiting for you to tell me.”
“Marcello?”
“Not really. I bumped into your hospice nurse on the street.”
“And you didn’t run her over?” Eric took a sip of his iced tea, leaning back in the patio chair. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings by not telling you. For what it’s worth, I don’t like anyone to know.”
“Why?”
“Because people look at you differently. You become frail in their eyes, and anything you do imperfectly they interpret as a sign that death is creeping closer. Instead of talking about themselves, people are always asking how you’re doing, but they do so with such finality, just waiting for you to confirm that you’re one foot in the grave.”
Tim shook his head. “I haven’t treated you differently.”
Eric was quiet for a moment. “No. You haven’t.”
“Then don’t hide it from me, okay?”
Eric nodded before laughing. “Looks like I’m just an old closet case myself.”
“Two peas in a pod,” Tim said, nudging him. Then he grew serious. “So what are we dealing with exactly? Lung cancer?”
Eric nodded.
“My aunt’s ex-husband had that, and he pulled through after chemo. Last I heard he was doing fine.”
Eric remained quiet.
“It’s worth a shot, right?”
“Chemo is an option,” Eric said grudgingly.
“Whatever keeps you here,” Tim said. “Don’t you dare give up on me because I’d be bored to tears without you. I told you that my new roommate collects basketball cards. Not baseball, basketball. Who’s ever heard of such a thing? Any time I’m in the room he reads the backs of them to me.”
Eric managed a smile.
“You’re my favorite person,” Tim said. “Stick around, okay?”
Eric nodded, but Tim knew it wasn’t as simple as making a promise. One thing he had learned from being in the closet is that coming out happened slowly. Now that Eric had confided in him, maybe he could convince him to do more for his health, but he would have to play this carefully.
* * * * *
Tim waited in the hallway, shoulders and one foot pressed against the wall. The temptation to talk to Allison again had been constant since their chance encounter, but Tim avoided giving in. For one whole week, at least. Today he had excused himself early from his Mechanics of Materials class just to be sure he wouldn’t miss her. When Allison did show up in the hall, she stopped in her tracks, wearing a deadpan expression.
“Buy you a coffee?” Tim said, pushing off the wall and walking toward her.
“I’m more of a cappuccino girl.” Allison resumed walking.
Tim fell in step at her side. “Okay. I’ll buy you one of those.”
“No thanks.”
“Can I walk you to your next class?”
Allison kept her head high. “I’m heading home.”
“Then I’ll walk you home.”
Allison cracked a smile. “You can walk me to my car. Final offer.”
“Sounds good.” Tim had gone over the questions in his mind all week, trying to decide which was the most crucial. The little details had him most curious. How did Ben look these days? Was he still a terrible driver? Did he still rub his nose when concentrating really
hard? “Does he ever mention me?”
Allison sighed. “For a while you were all he talked about. Of course that was a long time ago. How long has it been?”
“Ninety-seven was when it all fell apart. Man, that makes it three years this summer.”
Even Allison looked surprised. “Time just flows on by, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Too fast for my liking, sometimes.” Such as now. They had reached the exit door and stepped outside to the parking lot. He prayed that Allison had parked far away. “So you said Ben comes down to visit sometimes?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean no, I won’t tell you when so you can see him.” Allison glanced over at him. “He loved you, Tim. I mean, really really loved you. It took a long time for him to get over you completely, but he has. Seeing you again will just reopen old wounds, and I won’t help you hurt him like that.”
“I don’t want to hurt him!”
Allison shrugged. “Regardless, that’s what would happen.” She stopped at a car that was a lot nicer than the junk heap she used to drive in high school.
“You don’t like me much, do you?”
Allison considered him. “You know what sucks? I used to. It took me a while at first. I was sure you were just like the other guys Ben messed around with. They would have their fun and ditch him as soon as he got too close or they got girlfriends. But after everything you went through together, I finally accepted it was going to be different.”
“It was,” Tim said.
She nodded. “That’s right, because you weren’t a horny straight boy who felt like experimenting. You’re gay, which meant you could give Ben what he needed. Then you got scared or lord knows what and threw it all away. But before that, I liked you just fine.”
“I fucked up,” Tim admitted.
“Yeah, and I honestly don’t hold it against you anymore. Ben’s an amazing guy, and I bet losing someone like that hurt pretty damn bad. You both paid for what happened, which is a shame, because love shouldn’t have a price.” Allison opened the car door. “The older I get, the more I realize it always does.”
Tim stepped back, watching her through the window. Allison offered a sympathetic smile before starting the engine and driving away.