“Man, you’ve got it bad, don’t you? You sound like a goddamn Valentine’s Day card.”
Jason chose to ignore that. He took out a frying pan and started it warming on the stove. “He’s kind of young.”
“How young?”
“He’ll be twenty-one in June.”
Dylan whistled. “Damn, Jase. That’s barely legal.”
Jason dunked the first slice of bread, concentrating on it so he didn’t have to face Dylan. “He has an old soul.”
“That the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. And that’s saying a lot.”
Jason put the first drenched piece of bread in the pan and started on the next. “He likes old TV shows.”
“Like Murder, She Wrote?”
“Exactly.”
“Interesting.”
But something about his tone made Jason uneasy, so he changed the subject.
“How was your date with Tryss?”
“Who?”
“Victim Number Five? Daddy issues? The desperation trifecta? Remember?”
“Oh, her. Fine, I guess.” He couldn’t see Dylan’s face, but his tone lacked enthusiasm. “Turns out she only wanted to see me because she thought I could get her a part in Summer Camp Nightmare 4.”
“She didn’t get a call?” Jason thought back, trying to remember the storyline of the previous movie. “That makes sense, actually. She was the groundskeeper’s daughter, right? And if that whole part of the story was a dream—”
“All I know is, I couldn’t help her, even if I wanted to. They’d have to rewrite the script to include her, and I don’t have that much sway.”
“I hear Kayleigh Brooks is holding out. She says she won’t do the fourth movie unless we do.”
“Unless you do, you mean. She hates me.”
“Because you tried to seduce her—”
“Only once.”
“—and her boyfriend.”
Dylan laughed. “Yeah. I came closer to succeeding with him than she might have liked.”
Jason let the subject drop after that, not wanting to talk about any of Dylan’s other conquests. He’d always been surprised at how callous Dylan could be about the many people he seduced. He’d always assumed he was the exception, because he and Dylan were friends first and lovers second. Now, he stopped to wonder. Did Dylan talk this way about him to his other fuck buddies?
They finished breakfast, then spent most of the afternoon playing Xbox. Ben stayed in the room, sometimes seemingly interested in what they were doing, other times simply glaring at Dylan. Occasionally, Jason could tell Ben took offense at something Dylan said, but since Jason never had a chance to wind the globe, he couldn’t hear Ben’s replies. It was uncomfortable though. He suggested to Dylan that they go out for dinner again. It was true he had very little worth eating in his house, but mostly, he needed to deal with Ben and Dylan one at a time.
He left the TV on, even though Dylan gave him a suspicious look. They went for hamburgers and milkshakes, falling easily into old habits, bickering good-naturedly over everything from onion rings to music. It was fun, and Jason found himself relaxing, forgetting what a stupid situation he’d landed himself in.
They stopped for a six-pack of beer on the way back to Jason’s house. His heart sank as they pulled up his drive. He felt bad for having left Ben, and he dreaded another evening of trying to balance the two men in his life.
Ben was waiting for him right inside the living room doorway. To Jason’s relief, he seemed more curious than angry. Jason figured that was a good sign. “We’re home,” he said, before he could help himself.
Luckily, Dylan didn’t seem to think this was odd. He took the beer into the kitchen. “You want one?” he called to Jason.
“Sure.”
“Where’s the bottle opener?”
“Top drawer by the sink, I think.” He was pretty sure it was in the second drawer by the oven, actually, but he hoped the search would keep Dylan occupied for a minute. He wanted a few minutes alone with Ben. He quickly gathered up his laptop and the snow globe. “I’m going to run upstairs and change into some sweats. I’ll be right back.”
“How was dinner?” Ben asked eagerly as soon as they were in Jason’s room with the door closed and the globe wound. “Where did you go? Was it good? What did you eat?”
Jason was surprised at Ben’s turnaround. He’d expected to find him sullen and hostile. Ben had every right to be both. Still, he welcomed the return of Ben’s usual good cheer. “We went to a burger place in Coeur d’Alene.”
“Oh, they always show hamburgers on TV. Are they delicious?”
“Sometimes.”
“And french fries?”
“We opted for onion rings.”
“Onion rings,” Ben said dreamily, sinking onto the bed. “I bet those are delicious too.”
Jason laughed. “Someday, you’ll find out.” He finished changing clothes and then pondered the globe and Ben, feeling he’d painted himself into a corner. “He’s going to think I’m crazy if I keep carrying the globe around. Will you be all right here? I can stream a movie for you on my laptop.”
Ben smiled at him, as if Jason wasn’t asking for permission to lock him away in the bedroom for the evening. It should have made Jason feel better, but it only increased his guilt. “Of course.”
Jason finally wandered back downstairs to find Dylan waiting for him in the dining room, a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand. Another open beer waited on the table for Jason. He sank into a chair and took a long drink.
“Who were you talking to?” Dylan asked, his tone guarded.
“Ben. On Skype. Just saying good-night.”
“Uh-huh.” It was easy to hear the skepticism in Dylan’s voice. “I notice you took that snow globe back up to your room.”
“I can’t decide which room I want it in,” Jason said, knowing he sounded childishly defensive. “So what?”
“You’re hiding something from me.”
Jason’s pulse kicked into gear. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Dylan pushed away from the table. He paced the length of the narrow room twice before leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Enough, all right? No more lies. No more half-truths. I’m not blind. There’s something very weird going on here. You say you’re seeing someone, and yet nobody’s been around. And I know you said he’s out of town for the holiday, but it’s Sunday. He should be back by now. And nobody’s called. You haven’t checked your phone even once, so I know you’re not even texting, and yet you lock me out of your room—”
“I told you—”
Dylan held up his hands. “It’s fine. I’m not saying you’re obligated to fuck me, for God’s sake. You have every right to turn me down if you’re not in the mood, but . . .” He shook his head. “I’m worried about you, Jason. You’re out here in this house all by yourself, locked up like some kind of hermit. And then I see you with this snow globe, carrying it all over the house with you, talking to it like it’s a human being.” Jason tried to keep his face neutral, to keep his shock from registering, but he must have failed, because Dylan asked, “What? You think I don’t notice?”
“Well, it’s not that I’m talking to the globe . . .” But what the hell could he say? How could he possibly explain it?
“I heard you last night, in your room. I couldn’t make out the words, but I heard you talking, like there was somebody else there. I thought maybe you were on the phone, but when I went downstairs for a glass of water, I found your phone on that table by the front door. And I noticed you’d taken the globe up with you.”
Jason stared down at his hands, trying to decide what to do. “I know how it looks—”
“Do you?”
“Yes. It looks like I’m going crazy. I can see how you’d think that. But . . .” He shook his head, wishing for the first time that Dylan would just leave. That he’d go back to Hollywood and never come back. “You wouldn’t understand.”
br /> “Haven’t I always understood? Haven’t I always been here for you?”
“Yes. And I appreciate it. But I don’t need help this time. I’m telling you, I’m fine.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing.”
“Who were you talking to last night?”
Jason hesitated, considering the possible answers he could give. “Myself.”
“That’s not exactly comforting.”
“What, you never talk to yourself?”
“Jason, you were having a full-fledged conversation. Or at least, half of one.”
Jason put his head in his hands, feeling completely trapped.
“Was somebody here?” Dylan asked.
This time, he opted for the truth. “Yes.”
“How? And if so, why couldn’t I hear him too?”
“Because . . .”
“Because why?”
Jason sighed. He sat up straight at the table and faced Dylan. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Crap. He should have expected that. “It was Ben.”
Dylan pushed off the wall and sank into the chair next to Jason. “How? You weren’t on the phone. Your laptop was in the living room. How could you possibly have been talking to him?”
“I can’t tell you that. You’re going to think I’m crazier than you do already.”
“Jason.” Dylan reached out and took his hand. “Trust me, okay? I’m here for you, no matter what. Just talk to me.”
Dylan had always been able to reassure him. It felt good. He’d forgotten how Dylan could make him feel so safe and so normal. “Promise you won’t try to have me committed,” he said, half-joking.
“I promise.” Not joking at all.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath, debating where to start. Debating how best to tell it. In the end, he blurted it out. “Ben lives in the snow globe. He’s been trapped there since the Civil War. Nobody else can see him, but I can, and that’s who you heard me talking to last night.”
Dylan sat frozen, his expression somehow stiff and awkward and completely wrong, and Jason realized he was struggling to keep his feelings from showing. Jason’s heart sank. He’d known it was a slim shot that Dylan would believe him, and yet, he’d hoped. But as he watched, Dylan’s mask of careful calm melted into obvious concern.
“Oh, Jason,” he said at last. He leaned closer. He put his free hand against Jason’s cheek. “Honey, you have to get away from here. You can’t stay here in this empty house—”
“It isn’t empty.”
“Please, Jason. Please. Let’s pack a bag, and I’ll take you back to the city, okay? You can stay with me for as long as you need.”
A small lump formed in Jason’s throat. What wouldn’t he have given to hear Dylan say those words only a month earlier? And yet now, going with Dylan was the last thing he wanted to do. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Honey, I believe that you’re confused. And you’re lonely. And that’s on me, I know. I should have called more. I should have made sure you were okay.”
“I am okay.”
“I know you want to believe that, but you have to realize this is all in your mind. It’s all your brain’s way of breaking up the solitude. But it isn’t healthy. If you’ll let me take you somewhere. Somewhere where they can help you—”
Jason jumped out of his seat. “Jesus, Dylan! You really do want to have me committed!”
“No!” Dylan said, standing up and approaching Jason slowly, with his hands extended as if to soothe him. “No. Nothing like that. Just let me take you away from this house, okay? We can go anywhere. Back to Hollywood, or to Seattle. I can make some calls, Jason. I can find a doctor. Somebody discreet—”
“No.”
“How can I make you see that this is all in your head?”
“How can I make you see that it isn’t?”
“Okay,” Dylan said, taking a step backward. “Okay. Fair enough. Let’s talk about that.”
“He’s real.”
“But nobody else can see him. Why do you think that is?”
“We think it’s a family thing. I must be a descendant. If we could find somebody else— Oh! I could take him to my parents. One of them would be able to see him. I don’t know which one, but—”
“Is that really what you want to do?” Dylan asked, his voice slow and measured and infuriatingly conciliatory. “Do you want me to take you to your parents’ house?”
No. God, that was the last thing he wanted. Yes, it might offer him proof, but he didn’t trust either of his parents one bit. If one of them could see Ben, they’d want to take the globe. They’d want to use it, to go public, to seek out other family members who could see him. They’d see it as an opportunity to exploit, and nothing more. “There must be another way. Maybe . . . maybe you could talk to him. I mean, you’ll have to go through me, but you can ask him anything. Ask him about the Civil War, or about Thanksgiving in Tennessee, or about wanting to join the army, or—”
“Jason, that can’t prove anything. You know that.”
Jason slumped, overwhelmed at the futility of it. “I wish you would believe me. You promised me you’d keep an open mind.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re angry with me right now, but I swear to you, I’m only trying to help.”
Yes, he knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I’m not crazy.”
“I know you’re not,” Dylan said, slowly moving closer, his hands held out again as if to tame Jason. As if to calm him. “But I think you’re tired, and really lonely. And I think living here, all by yourself—”
“I’m not alone.”
“—I think it’s made you confused, and this whole thing is your mind’s way of making it easier. That’s all.” He put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and gently pulled him forward into his arms. “You need to rest.” He held Jason close, rocking him slowly and kissing his temple. “I’m going to give you something to help you sleep. And then tomorrow, once you’re feeling better, we’ll talk about where we can go, okay? Just the two of us. We’ll go to Mexico or Hawaii or Belize, and we’ll stay as long as you need to.”
“Don’t you have a shoot in two days?”
“I’ll cancel. It’s a bit part anyway. Who gives a shit? Just tell me you’ll come with me.”
But Jason couldn’t do it. He had no intentions of going anywhere with Dylan. In the past, he would have jumped at the opportunity, but not now. Still, he knew it would do him no good to argue. Not tonight, at any rate. He needed to regroup. He wanted to get up to his room with Ben and come up with a plan.
“You’re right. I am tired.”
“I know, Jase.” Dylan kissed his temple again. “I know. And God, I want nothing more right now than to take you upstairs and put you to bed the right way. Will you let me?”
Jason shook his head, unsure what he’d do if Dylan tried to press him on the point, but to his relief, Dylan only sighed.
“Okay, JayWalk. Whatever you need.” He pulled back to cup Jason’s cheek in his hand, ducking his head a bit to meet Jason’s eyes, and Jason thought how Dylan had about the same height advantage on him that Jason had on Ben. “Let me give you something though, okay? It’ll help you sleep. That’s all.”
Jason nodded. “Okay.”
He preceded Dylan up the stairs, feeling like a penitent child. He found Ben waiting in the bedroom, his forehead creased with concern. It was an expression he was unaccustomed to seeing on Ben’s face. He worried Dylan would make a fuss about the snow globe being in his room, but he didn’t. He only dropped a few pills into Jason’s palm. Jason kissed him on the cheek and said good-night. He waited until he heard Dylan’s slow steps going down the stairs. Only then did he turn to Ben and motion him close, so he could whisper in his ear, “We need to talk.”
They spent half the night hashing it over. They came up with wild plans of tracking down somebody else who could see Ben, of some
how proving to Dylan that Jason’s story was true, but they knew all along those were fantasies. In the end, they had only one real option.
“It’ll never work,” Ben said. “You’ll never convince him to leave without you.”
“I think I can. I know him pretty well.”
“He loves you.”
“Maybe, in his own way. But as much as he wants to help me, he’s absolutely serious about his career. And he has to be back in LA by Wednesday morning. That’s our ace in the hole.”
“But he’s already said he’ll cancel.”
“I know what he said, but believe me, canceling is a bad idea, and he knows it.” Dylan was undoubtedly already wondering if he couldn’t help Jason and meet his acting obligation rather than having to choose one over the other. “All I have to do is convince him that I’ve come to my senses.”
“Convince him that you’ve suddenly stopped believing in me, you mean,” Ben said, his voice unsteady.
It hurt to even contemplate. Jason saw the hesitation and the doubt in Ben’s eyes, but what else could they do?
“It’s only acting,” Jason assured Ben. “I’ve been doing it since I was nine.”
But unlike every acting job he’d ever had, he had no script. He had no way of knowing how the other character in his farce would react. He was playing the most important role of his life to a one-man audience, and no matter how he looked at it—no matter how he saw the scene unfolding in his brain—two things remained certain: he couldn’t do it with Ben watching, and he had to keep the globe out of sight lest Dylan try to take it from him.
At four o’clock in the morning, while Dylan slept soundly in the bedroom next door, Jason snuck up the stairs to the attic. He stashed the globe in the corner of the room, tucked behind some of his unpacked boxes, deep in the shadows. Ben would be confined to the empty room, but at least he’d have access to a window. Jason hated to leave him alone, without even a radio, but he couldn’t risk drawing attention to the attic.
“Don’t worry,” Ben said, taking his turn at reassurances. “I’ve spent plenty of time in empty rooms. A couple more days won’t hurt.”