Chapter Thirty-two
Tim threw a party that weekend. Not a Ryan-style puking-on-the-carpet, overdosing-in-the-bathroom party, but a much more respectable Sunday barbeque in the backyard. Of course he waited until Ben and Jace agreed to come before making arrangements, inviting Marcello and some of his more pleasant friends. As a show of goodwill, he even invited Allison and her husband.
And now they were all here, gathered together in a comfortable scene worthy of Norman Rockwell—if he had ever painted gay guys and interracial couples grilling steaks beside a private pool. Marcello’s date was a younger Asian guy who seemed bookish, and Brian, Allison’s husband, was just as plain as she was pretty. Brian, it turned out, was the owner of Twilight Theater and the very same person who had let Tim in the other night. Then there were a handful of older gay guys and a pair of lesbians who were eyeing the pool like they wanted to strip down and dive in.
Tim manned the grill, letting his guests enjoy themselves while he made every effort not to stare at Ben and Jace. They sat across from each other, deep in conversation at one of the picnic benches Tim had bought for the occasion. What did couples talk about after so many years together? One thing was certain: They looked happy.
When Ben came up to him alone, grabbing two paper plates, Tim played it cool and said, “What can I get you and your dashing boyfriend?”
“I don’t know where to begin,” Ben said, eyeing the food. “Did you make all this yourself?”
“Of course,” Tim said. “How hard is it to marinate meat?”
Ben nodded at one of the tables. “Even the dates stuffed with cream cheese and wrapped in bacon?”
“Is that what those are?”
Ben chuckled. “You either talked some lovesick guy into making all this or you hired a caterer.”
“Caterers,” Tim admitted. “I may have to fire them. These hot dogs look a little gray.”
“They’re bratwursts, and they’re supposed to look that way.”
“Oh!” Tim replied innocently.
Ben took two, and after loading his plate with other goodies, headed back to the bench where Jace waited. Tim shouted that lunch was ready, and soon his guests were plundering the spread. He watched them with satisfaction, serving brats and feeling a little embarrassed when Allison and her husband approached. Hopefully the guy hadn’t overheard his argument with Ryan in the theater.
“Thanks for having us,” Brian said.
“My pleasure,” Tim replied. “Have a wiener. You too, Allison.” He eyed the gold band on her finger as she took the plate. “How’s married life treating you?”
“Good!” Allison beamed. If Jace and Ben were going for world’s happiest couple, they had some competition.
“How did you two meet, anyway?”
Allison glanced over at Brian, who gestured that she should tell the story. “I was volunteering at a hospital. Brian was in one of the programs I was leading, and we just sort of hit it off.”
Tim cocked an eyebrow. “Putting the moves on a patient? Isn’t that immoral?”
“Absolutely,” Allison said shamelessly. “Besides, that was just my apprenticeship. I’m a counselor now.”
“Which means no more flirting with patients,” Brian chimed in.
Tim laughed. “Wow, a counselor. Go Allison! Maybe you should leave me your card. With all my problems, I’ll keep you in business for years.”
“Actually,” Brian said, scratching at the reddish-brown hair of his beard, “I wanted to invite you to something similar. I’m a recovering alcoholic. Haven’t touched a drop in two years. Ben was telling us how he’s worried about your drinking. I’d be glad to have you at one of our AA meetings if you’re interested.”
Tim shifted uncomfortably. “I know this is going to sound like I do, but I don’t have a problem. I just need to slow down.”
“Well, if you find it harder to slow down then you thought, my phone number and email address are right here.”
Tim accepted Brian’s business card, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He wasn’t an alcoholic, was he? He thought longingly of the cold beer bottles buried in ice in the cooler, and realized he’d be going without today—and for a while after. He was sure he didn’t have a problem and wanted to keep it that way.
After more chitchat, Tim excused himself and kept grilling, snacking between serving hungry guests. Ben was worried about him, huh? That was something, at least. After everyone had eaten their fill, even Marcello, Tim did something he’d been nervous about all day and went over to Jace.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Jace looked between him and Ben and nodded. “Sure.”
Tim led him away from the party to the side of the house, willing his pulse to slow. This could get ugly. Hopefully the legends about Jace’s niceness were true.
“What’s up?” Jace asked. His expression wasn’t entirely friendly, but he wasn’t sneering, either.
“I just wanted to apologize,” Tim said, extending a hand. “I figure it’s long overdue.”
Jace eyed his hand but didn’t accept it. “What exactly are you apologizing for? And before you answer, do us both a favor and think about it carefully. If there’s one thing I won’t put up with from you, it’s more bullshit and lies.”
Ouch! Was it too late to scamper back to the party with his tail between his legs? But Jace was studying him, waiting for his response. The truth? Tim didn’t regret trying to get Ben back or kissing him when he had the chance. He wasn’t sorry for trying to steal Ben away from Jace. When he considered the absolute truth, the answer was obvious.
“I’m sorry for hurting Ben.”
Jace grabbed his hand and shook it. “Apology accepted.”
Tim laughed in relief. “Jesus, dude! Everyone says you’re a saint, but you’re kind of scary, you know that?”
Jace winked. “Remember that right hook?”
“My jaw still twinges when the weather gets cold.”
Their laughter brought relief as they slowly relaxed. “Thanks for letting me be around Ben.” Tim said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Jace shrugged. “It’s not my choice to make. He’s his own person.”
“Well I appreciate you being cool about it anyway. It’s nice having him in my life again. I really hope he and I can be friends.”
“And if not?”
“Then I’ll bow out,” Tim said. “There’s no way I can take him from you without breaking his heart in the process.”
Jace nodded in appreciation. “Ben told me about Ryan. Sounds like a rough time, but don’t give up. I had to go through a lot of Mr. Wrongs before I finally met Ben.”
“Yeah, but imagine if you had met him first.”
“And then messed it all up,” Jace said without any malice. “I’ve thought about that, which is why I try not to blame you. There was someone else in my life, once. Someone I loved almost as much as I love Ben. There’s no chance of getting him back, but had Ben not come along and I had one more shot, I would have taken it.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely. If our roles were reversed, I also would have done something to win back that love. Although I’d like to think I would have done it with charm instead of trickery.”
“Hey, I’d be more than willing to try it your way if you want to give me some pointers.”
Jace smiled. “Not a chance.”
After a little more banter they returned to the party. Jace really was nice, except when life demanded otherwise. Tim wasn’t into self-depreciation, but maybe, just maybe, Jace was the better man. The thought wasn’t too depressing, because it meant Ben was going to have the best life possible.
Tim was sitting cross-legged at the edge of the pool, breaking apart a bratwurst and feeding the pieces to Chinchilla, when Ben came over and sat next to him. “What did you guys talk about? Jace won’t tell me.”
“You, of course,” Tim said. “Your morning breath, your terrible cooking—the usual.”
“I see I’ll have to keep you two separate,” Ben said in mock exasperation.
“So catch me up on your story,” Tim said. “Last time all I did was whine about my problems. How’s life after college for Benjamin Bentley?”
“Good.” Ben slipped off his sandals and dipped his feet in the pool. “I got a job as a speech therapist, which is nice. Makes me feel useful.”
“So the dinner theater thing is just a hobby?”
Ben shook his head. “More like a second job. They’re both only part-time, but I like the variety. What about you?”
“You’re looking at it. I’m a housewife without a husband.”
Ben snorted. “Seriously. You once said something about celebrities working out of boredom, even after they get rich.”
“Words of wisdom,” Tim said with irony. “I was bored. Then I met Ryan and everything went crazy. Frankly, I’m looking forward to being bored again. Afterwards, I don’t know. But I want to hear about your life. What else has happened?”
Ben took a deep breath. “I got married.”
“Oh.” Tim paused. “Does Jace know?”
Ben shoved him playfully. “That’s who I married.”
“Ah, I see!” Tim grinned even though his insides felt crushed. Better man or not, he couldn’t help feeling jealous. “Is that legal in Texas?”
“Nothing fun is. According to the law, we’re still second-class citizens, but they can’t stop us from making the commitment. Marriage isn’t a piece of paper, right?”
“True. Did I tell you I’m marrying Chinchilla?”
“Really?” Ben said with faux interest.
“Yeah. We haven’t picked out rings, but I thought I’d give her a pair of my shoes to chew up. Then I would wear them around town as a sign of my commitment to her.”
Ben looked impressed. “Sounds romantic.”
“I thought so.” Tim nudged shoulders with him. “Are we going to make this work?”
“You and me?” Ben nudged him back. “Yeah. We’ll make it work. Somehow.”
* * * * *
“Your eyes light up when you look at him.”
Marcello was at Tim’s right, startling him. For a big guy, he sure could move with stealth. Of course the orchestra music helped disguise his arrival, as did the sounds of the dancers in the ballroom. Another Eric Conroy Foundation fundraiser. Each served as a reminder of how long he had been gone, the years adding up quicker than Tim cared to contemplate. This year he invited Ben and Jace, and as they danced together in their rented tuxedos, Tim couldn’t pull his eyes away. They were—
“Beautiful,” Marcello said, having seen them as well. “No waging a war of the heart this time?”
“Me?” Tim grimaced. “I don’t think I could wedge myself between them even if I wanted to.”
Marcello patted him on the back. “You could have anyone you want. Maybe Ryan wore you a bit thin, but the last few weeks have marked the return of that handsome face that sells so many photos. I’m still making money off that weekend of modeling you gave me.”
Tim was flattered, but he wasn’t quite there yet. He had started jogging again, but the pounds went on a lot easier than they came off. Staying away from beer helped, although tonight he allowed himself to sip from a glass of champagne to celebrate: His second round of HIV tests had come back negative. Any mistakes he’d made with Ryan wouldn’t be permanent.
“No,” Tim responded at last. “This time I’ll let them be. I’d say they were made for each other, but it’s more like Ben was made for me, and Jace was made for him. Does that make sense?”
“Few things in love do. Regardless, it’s nice to see such a happy couple here tonight.”
“Yeah. Don’t let them give any money to the foundation,” Tim said. “I mean, a token amount is okay, but I know they struggle.”
Marcello nodded. “It’s hardly needed. Some very generous donations have already been made this year. Enough that we’ll be left with an excess, which is never ideal for a charity. No doubt there are artists who could use the money, but sorting through grant applications is time-consuming, as is conducting the interviews.”
“Really? Sounds kind of fun, actually.”
“I have enough on my plate,” Marcello said dismissively.
Tim’s plate was still empty, except for hanging out with Ben and Jace occasionally. He was beginning to wonder if he was living vicariously through them.
“Besides,” Marcello continued, “you have no idea how desperate the applicants are to have anyone look at their art. I keep telling them to take a photo and put it online.”
Tim shook his head. “It’s never the same. Even the best photographer can’t capture the full spirit of a painting. Have you thought of doing more than just giving grants? What if you rented a gallery space for new artists to exhibit at?”
“The idea is nice, but again, finding time is an issue.”
“Not for—” Tim glanced at Marcello accusingly. “You’re totally playing me, aren’t you?”
The hint of a smile betrayed him. “Not at all,” Marcello said. “But if you should happen to know someone who is willing to work long hours for free, then be sure to send him my way.”
Tim stared at him. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” Marcello offered his arm and nodded toward the dance floor. “Now how about we give Ben and Jace a run for their money?”
* * * * *
Hobbits fought a giant spider while elsewhere, elves and dwarves battled evil orcs. All of it was lost on Tim. He could only focus on the nearness of the body next to him, the warmth underneath the quilt that was just inches away. Forget magical golden rings. If there was one burden in the world impossible to bear, it was love.
Jace and Ben had invited him over for dinner. Of course Jace could cook. The meal was well prepared, the conversation pleasant and followed by the third and final Lord of the Rings movie on DVD. The extended edition of Return of the King was apparently twelve million hours long, or so it felt. And Tim was grateful, especially when Ben stretched out on the couch, resting his head on Jace’s lap, and his feet— At first the bottom of those were flat against Tim’s outer thigh. After focusing on this contact for the longest time, remaining completely motionless, Tim moved his hand beneath the quilt, taking hold of one of Ben’s feet like they were holding hands.
Silly as it was, it meant everything to him that Ben didn’t pull away. Instead he wriggled his toes in response, sighing contently. Is this what Ben wanted, both his ex-boyfriend and his husband at once? Tim had never entertained the idea, but right now he would agree to anything because things were getting bad. Terribly bad. He and Ben found a lot of excuses like this, little ways of touching each other—goodbye hugs that went on a little too long, or playful shoves where hands brushed down the other’s body instead of pushing. They even snuck lunch together once without Jace.
No matter what they promised and how much they swore, they were slowly giving in to the gravitation between them. Tim had no doubt that Ben loved Jace, but Eric was right. Love wasn’t exclusive, nor did it expire, and if one of them didn’t act soon, there would be no turning back.
Except Tim didn’t want it to end. This time together had been nice, even if Ben wasn’t his. In a way, being friends meant getting to know him outside the pressure of a relationship. They had fun. Too much fun, maybe.
As for the movie, the damn ring finally ended up in the volcano, but even then Frodo was left haunted. There was no escaping this curse.
“I’ll get the dishes done,” Jace said as the credits rolled.
Ben sat up, pulling his foot away. “I’ll help.”
“Me three!” Tim offered.
“No, just relax,” Ben said. “We’ll have them done lickity split.”
“I’m buying you guys a dishwasher for Christmas,” Tim said. “It’s like Amish-land here. Who does dishes by hand?”
“Us po’ folks,” Jace said, leading his husband away.
Once they were out of sight, Tim groaned and fell over on his side. He stretched out on the couch and pulled the quilt up to his neck. All he could think was how nice doing dishes with Ben would be, both of them wearing brightly colored rubber gloves. Jace and Ben weren’t poor. They were richer than he would ever be.
Lickity split must have meant something different to them, because Tim was nearly nodding off by the time he heard footsteps padding across the carpet. He kept his eyes closed. Maybe Ben would wake him with a kiss. Whoever was in the room with him didn’t seem to be doing anything. Were they just standing there watching him?
“Is he asleep?” Jace’s voice said from farther away.
“Yeah.” Ben’s whisper came from just in front of the couch. “Let’s let him crash here.”
“Okay. Are you coming to bed?”
“I’ll be there in a second. I just want to lock up.”
There was an awkward pause, then Jace said, “Come kiss me goodnight.”
Tim listened, the subtle sounds excruciating.
“Is something wrong?” Ben asked.
“It’s just—” Jace sighed. “Your eyes light up when he’s around. The same way they do when you look at me.”
“I love you,” Ben said, almost with desperation.
Jace’s response was gentle. “I know. Come to bed soon. Okay?”
Tim listened as the living room lamps clicked off, one by one. He felt the quilt pulled tight, Ben tucking it in around him. Tim wanted to open his eyes, to pull Ben down on the couch with him, but he didn’t dare move. Then Ben caressed his hair, just a single gentle stroke as innocent as a mother’s touch. But of course it wasn’t.
Tim listened to Ben’s sigh, his footsteps in the hallway as the wood beneath the carpet creaked, the bedroom door as it clicked shut. Then Tim got up and snuck out the front door.
* * * * *
Insects hummed, thriving in the humid night. Tim sat on the front steps, rolling a bottle of beer between his palms while Chinchilla slept on her side, enjoying the cool concrete. They could have been out back, next to the soothing waters of the pool, but Tim was waiting. Maybe it wouldn’t happen tonight, but the storm was coming. The only question was whether or not it would rain.
Sure enough, Ben’s car pulled up half an hour later.
“You’re either here to do something that you really shouldn’t,” Tim said, “or you came to say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry.” Ben stood before him, not bothering to sit. This would be a short visit. “I wish we could just be friends.”
“No, you don’t.” Tim managed a brave smile. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Tim took a deep breath. “You think we would have made it? Say we never had the cops chasing us that night, that we kept on going. Do you think we’d still be together?”
Ben thought about it, maybe considering the possibilities that could have been, but instead of answering he swallowed and said, “I have to go.”
Desperation stole over Tim. He wouldn’t be able to breathe if Ben walked away. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Benjamin. I don’t have anything left.”
“That’s not true. You have plenty.”
“Did I tell you that I came out to my parents?”
“No.”
“Yeah. They weren’t thrilled. If they were distant before—” Tim shook his head.
“They’ll get over it. And if they don’t, then they can fuck themselves.”
Tim smiled at this resurgence of Ben’s teenage attitude. That’s probably what he would have said if Tim had come out way back then. His parents would have flipped out, and Tim would have come sulking to Ben, only for him to say those very words. They can fuck themselves. Then their relationship would have continued, no worse for the wear. If only Tim could have understood that back then.
“Don’t go back to Ryan,” Ben said. “You don’t need him. Or me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
Tim shook his head. “I’ve always needed you.”
“You might want us, but you don’t need us. You said I bring out the best in you, but all those wonderful things were already there, even before I came along. Live for yourself, Tim. Decorate the house with your paintings. Don’t hide them away. Don’t hide yourself away, either. There’s a whole world out there waiting to see you. The real you.” Ben fumbled with his car keys, already turning to leave, but first his eyes poured over Tim with sorrow. “You’re so beautiful, and I don’t just mean your face or your body.”
“Don’t go,” Tim pleaded.
Ben shook his head and walked away, slowly. Tim could leap to his feet, could spin him around and kiss him and tell him he had to stay. And maybe Ben would for the night, or maybe even a day or two. But eventually he would remember Jace, and his heart would break with what he had done. So Tim remained seated and watched Ben open his car door, pausing with his hand on the doorframe.
“Until next time?” Ben said.
Tim laughed, wiping away the tears in his eyes. “Until next time.”