Page 133 of When Ben Loved Jace

“Okay.”

I follow him outside to a large shed in a corner of the yard where Tim begins messing with a combination lock.

“I’m glad you said something. The trees out here provide shade, but the shed isn’t climate-controlled. Still, between Ryan’s temper and his seedy friends, I figured it was the safest option.”

He opens the door for me and steps aside. I step into a rectangular space that only has a narrow aisle down the middle. The rest is filled with paintings. Most of the canvases are covered by cloths, Tim lifting a corner to peek.

He whistles. “Jesus! Some of these belong in a museum. Selling this one would set most people up for life. I’m gonna look into donating a few to museums, but only if they do those little plaques next to each that say ‘on display courtesy of such-and-such.’”

I simply stare in return.

His brow furrows up. “You never get out to the museums?”

“I know what you mean. I’m just surprised that you’d give away something that’s so valuable. Exactly how rich are you?”

Tim shrugs. “Depends how the market is doing on any given day. Do you uh… want one?”

“Of the paintings?” I splutter. The idea makes me dizzy until I imagine having to explain to Jace where the sudden windfall of cash came from. “Um… No. That’s okay. We’re doing fine.”

I return my attention to the interior of the shed. The stacks and leaning rows of paintings at the far end are exposed to the elements. I recognize the artist and am drawn toward them. Some are familiar to me. Many are new. One in particular catches my eye, since it rests on an easel, despite being completed, its placement ensuring that it can be comfortably viewed. Eric is surrounded by rainbow reflections, the subtle smile conveying his generous warmth. The painting is so compelling that I feel like I’m basking in his comforting presence again. My throat constricts with the loss of such a kind man.

“Marcello told me,” I force out. “All the things you went through for him…”

“Worth it,” Tim says, his voice hoarse. “Every damn second. I wouldn’t take back any of it.”

“Wait,” I say as realization hits me. “Did you paint that when he was still alive?”

“Uh-huh.” Tim looks over at me. “I told him, Benjamin. Because of you. When he found out that I could paint…” He smiles and shakes his head. “Eric was like a kid in a candy store. He rented a truck so we could move all my paintings here from my parents’ house. Eric told them they’d all been sold. You should have seen their faces. He wanted a painting of mine in each room. And he commissioned plenty more. We had so much fun. That was such a gift because—”

Tim’s chin begins to tremble. I brush my hand against his, wanting to comfort him. He responds immediately, wrapping his arms around me with a sob. I hug him back. We stand there swaying, swept up in too many emotions to speak, both of us haunted by the past. He’s the first to pull back, turning his head away as he does so, but not to hide the tears in shame. Those he doesn’t wipe away. The closeness between us is too risky. He understands that like I do.

I take a step back. “You should hang your paintings up again,” I suggest. “All of them.”

Tim thinks about it and nods. “Yeah. Wanna help me?”

“I’ve gotta get to work,” I say. “And back to my own life.”

“What about…” He leaves the rest of the question unspoken.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Jace comes home tonight. I need to talk to him.”

Tim nods, expression glum. “So this might be it?”

“No,” I say, fighting down a smile. “It can’t be. We left my car in a library parking lot. You’re my ride.”

He laughs. I do too, the relief between us palpable. Then we make our way outside again, back into the sunlight, where it finally feels like we belong.

— — —

Jace is sitting on the couch, watching me pace back and forth. I recap the events of the previous night, able to put much more emphasis on them in person than I could over the phone. He can tell that something is wrong. We know each other too well.

I finally reach the part I’ve been dreading.

“There was only one way that Ryan would believe me,” I say. “So after I took Tim’s hand… I kissed him.”

Jace’s eyes widen. I force myself to press on.

“And it wasn’t just a little smooch. I made sure it looked real. Because it was. And yeah, he kissed me back. I know how horrible that sounds, but it’s what finally turned the tide. Ryan literally fell to his knees and—”