Page 92 of Something Like Winter

Ben studied the ground. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “I just want to talk to you, I guess.”

After a barely perceptible shake of his head, Ben said, “I can’t.”

Can’t? Or won’t?

“I know you’re mad at me.” Tim lowered his head, trying to catch his eye, but Ben still wouldn’t look at him. This was bad! If he didn’t back off now, he would scare Ben away. But Tim couldn’t leave without a way of finding him again. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. “Take this.”

Ben was so despondent Tim had to place the phone in his hand.

“I’ll call tonight, okay? We’re both in shock right now and need time to think, but I still want to talk to you. Cool?”

Ben nodded. Thank God, Allah, Santa Claus, or whoever was out there, because Ben nodded.

“All right. I’m going now.” Tim started to back away, but it was possible Ben would change his mind and throw away the phone. Then Tim would never see him again, so he decided to tell him the one thing he needed to say the most. “You were right, Benjamin.”

Ben raised his head, the line of his mouth relaxing. “About what?”

“About a lot of things.” They looked at each other for one eternal moment. “See you around!” Tim smiled at him, because if this was the end, Ben might as well know how he made him feel. Then he did one of the hardest things ever. He turned and walked away.

When Tim was sitting in his car again, he allowed himself a nervous laugh. Another chance. Was it possible? What in the world would he say when he called Ben tonight? What he needed was advice. Tim started the car, thinking of Eric before a dart of sorrow hit his heart. Fuck it. He wouldn’t let that stop him. Putting the car in drive, he headed across town to Austin Memorial Park where Eric was buried.

The grave was at the edge of the property, the last at the end of a row, shaded by trees. Tim came here sporadically, only sometimes feeling the need for extra closeness. As he parked his car, he was glad to see the wildflowers covering Eric’s grave were still thriving. The headstone could barely be seen beneath a floral wreath, which was just as well. Marcello had chosen the headstone, and although it was elegant, there wasn’t a grave in the world that Tim would describe as beautiful.

“I found him,” Tim said once he was sitting at the edge of the flowers. “I found Ben. Or he found me. Neither, I guess.” He laughed, picturing Eric’s patient expression. “I need to know what to do. I mean, I know what I want, but Ben didn’t seem happy to see me.”

He waited for comforting words he knew wouldn’t come, his thoughts wandering to the life he once shared with Eric. One fall day came to mind, when the weather was mild enough that he and Eric opened all the windows in the house. Then Gabriel had called, which was a rare occurrence. Eric went out on the back patio, staring into space or pacing occasionally as he spoke to him on the phone. Tim had sat nearby in the recreation room, pretending to read a magazine while listening as Eric laughed and chatted, mentioning names and places Tim wasn’t familiar with. The call had lasted nearly an hour, Eric smiling when he came back inside.

“I love that man,” he had said cheerfully.

“I don’t see how you can,” was Tim’s reply. “I mean, he left you for another person.”

“Ancient history. And besides, you never stop loving someone, no matter what happens. Do you still love Ben?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“And have you loved anyone since?”

That had given Tim pause. His relationship with Eric felt like love. But they were never intimate. Not physically.

Eric continued anyway. “Take it from an old man with a lot of experience. When you do fall in love again, you’ll still love Ben just as much. You might not think of him every day or yearn for him, but those feelings will still be there to catch you off guard. They never go away.”

Tim had been skeptical. “Tons of couples break up or get divorced.”

“Even love can’t stop people from becoming incompatible.”

Tim breathed in the scent of wildflowers, addressing the present once more. “I hope you were right. Ben and I are compatible now. I think. If he still loves me—” The thought was too huge to finish.

Tim allowed himself more time lost in thought, mulling it all over with Eric’s ghost. Then he stood, determined to make Benjamin Bentley love him again.

* * * * *

Had life existed before the Internet, a time when endless information wasn’t just a click of the mouse away? How else had people stalked their former flames, mapping a route to their houses in the middle of the night to peep in their windows? Tim hadn’t gonequitethat far yet. He was leaning against his car and staring at dark windows, but from a respectable distance. Maybe Ben wasn’t at home.

Tim sighed, wishing he had more liquid courage coursing through his veins. Since his snowmobile accident, he was careful about drinking and driving, so he’d only indulged in one beer before coming here. While at the bar, he went over every possible outcome this night could have. Some were good. Most were bad.

Tired of wondering, Tim used the new phone he bought to call the one left with Ben. He watched the windows as it rang, waiting for one to light up. None of them did, even when the line clicked and Ben’s groggy voice answered.