Page 77 of Something Like Winter

Tim leaned back and closed his eyes, flinching in surprise when Eric touched him to help him up and outside. The cold was a nightmare, even though Tim was fevered, but soon he was in the warmth of a car that smelled like a rental. Music was on low, Christmas carols coming from the glow of the radio.

Eric opened the driver’s side door and hopped in, putting the car in gear and taking them away from there. “You’re going to be okay,” he said.

Tim closed his eyes again, comforted by a feeling of home he had long since thought lost.

* * * * *

Warmth. Not the overbearing heat of a fever or the chilling bite of cold. Just warmth in perfect balance, inside and out. Tim’s head hummed with a familiar sensation, the blissful kiss of opiates. He hadn’t felt this high since Ben jacked up his ankle.

Tim opened his eyes, expecting to see his foot in a cast and Ben sitting next to the hospital bed, jangling the keys of his 3000GT. He was nearly right. The person seated there was about the same size but a good deal older, calmly reading a newspaper folded in half.

Tim’s memory was muddled. He remembered Eric taking him to the hospital and not having to wait in the emergency room for once. A nurse, or maybe it was a doctor, gave Tim something that chased away the pain. And consciousness. Then there were brief flashes of waking up to see Eric’s concerned face, much like now, his brow crinkled up even as he read.

“Hey,” Tim said.

Eric moved the newspaper to his lap, looking somewhat relieved. “Hey! How are you?”

“Good.” Tim raised his head to look himself over. He was wearing a horrible hospital robe. He started to lift the sleeve so he could check out his arm when he noticed the tube stuck into his hand. “Oh, man! These things creep me out!”

“That’s how they fed you breakfast,” Eric teased. “Lunch too.”

Tim’s head swam. “Have I been out that long? What day is it?”

“The twenty-eighth.” Eric checked his watch. “Almost four in the afternoon.”

“Well, that’s three days of my life gone.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t more.” Eric moved the chair closer to the bed, turning it so he was facing Tim. “What happened to you? I got your call about Travis and kept calling you back. When you still weren’t answering the next day, I caught the next flight.”

“Sorry,” Tim said. “Once Travis left I made some stupid decisions. I feel bad making you come all this way.”

Eric shook his head as if it didn’t matter. “On the phone you said you had a fight with Travis and he left. Sounds serious.”

“Permanent,” Tim corrected. “Travis chose fear. I don’t think there’s any hope at this point. I really don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Eric leaned back, glancing out the window where two birds swooped through the air, chasing each other. “Do you love him?”

Tim swallowed. “No. I don’t think so. But I could have, you know? He’s the first person since Ben who could have meant something. I thought I understood where he was coming from, but I guess not.”

Eric, to his credit, didn’t lecture Tim about other fish in the sea. Instead he nodded at Tim’s upper arm. “What happened there? The doctor pulled out a lot of splinters.”

Tim remembered the injury and checked it out. The area was clean now, purple from bruising, and stitched up with black thread. He was going to have one hell of a scar. He pulled the robe sleeve over the injury and found Eric still waiting for an answer. “I sort of downed a bottle of wine and thought I’d take one of the snowmobiles through the woods to town. It’s still out there somewhere. Trashed.”

Eric closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’ll pay for the damages,” Tim said quickly.

“I don’t care about the snowmobile,” Eric said with a glare. “You could have killed yourself!”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Tim said. “I mean, I’m not suicidal or anything.”

“No, you’re just young. And stupid.” Eric exhaled his worry and took Tim’s hand. “Don’t worry. Love, or even just infatuation, has a diminishing effect on intelligence. It’s lucky you still remember how to speak.”

Tim made some ape noises to show how far gone he was. Eric laughed.

“Next time I plan a romantic get-away,” Tim said, “I’m taking you with me instead. Forget the stupid frat boys.” He didn’t care how Eric took this. He wasn’t even sure what he meant. Tim just knew there was one person in his life most worthy of spending time with, which he intended to do.

“I’m flattered,” Eric said, comically fanning himself with his newspaper as if he were overheating. “If you insist on courting me, you can start by inviting me to dinner. I understand this establishment has won Michelin Stars for its phenomenal Jell-Oa la carte!”