Something Like Summer

by Jay Bell

  Ben turned to Tim, jaw clenching, but his former boyfriend couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “I’m going to kill myself,” Ryan bawled, heading for the door. “I’m going to kill myself and leave a note blaming it on you!”

  The door slammed, the glass shaking in its frame. The silence that followed was filled only with Tim’s heavy breathing. Ben could smell alcohol on his breath, much more than the theater would serve.

  “I guess I should go after him,” Tim said.

  “I guess you should.”

  Tim turned when reaching the door.

  “La Maisonette, tomorrow. Seven o’clock?”

  Ben hesitated.

  “Please?”

  “All right.”

  Tim slunk into the night wearing a burden of shame. Ben was tempted to lock the door after him, but he didn’t. He still trusted Tim, still knew him. There had to be a reason for everything he’d seen tonight, and he wouldn’t be able to rest until he found out why.

  * * * * *

  Tim was already at the restaurant, seated at a table and waiting. His appearance was better than it had been the day before, face clean shaven and hair freshly cut. He still didn’t look as though he’d slept recently. Ben sat, not knowing what to expect and warily noting the half-empty bottle of wine on the table.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Tim said, lifting the bottle. “Drink?”

  Ben nodded. He didn’t plan on drinking but he figured it was one less glass for Tim.

  “Is your boyfriend okay?”

  “Ryan? Yeah, he says stuff like that all the time.”

  “And do you react like that all the time?”

  Tim’s expression was miserable. “No! I never hit him. Nothing like that. We had a fight last week, and I grabbed him just like last night. I don’t know my own strength sometimes, and he really knows how to push my buttons. Those were the only two times, but I’m afraid of what might happen if things don’t change.”

  Ben didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know Ryan or his history with Tim, and part of him was unwilling to ask. If Ryan caught them here things would only get worse. Jace wasn’t thrilled with Ben being here either, but at least Ben hadn’t kept it a secret. What could he do, walk away? Let his last memory of Tim be of the broken man before him?

  “All right,” Ben said. “Tell me everything.”

  Tim had met Ryan at a bar a year ago and they had everything in common. Both came from well-to-do families with distant parents. Ryan’s had turned their backs on him when he came out, eventually cutting him off from his college tuition. Tim had supported him, but eventually learned that Ryan never attended the expensive classes he was paying for. Ryan had little interest in anything other than partying, and Tim had indulged him, joining in and feeling like a teenager again.

  “For a while things were good,” Tim said. “Well, maybe not good, but entertaining. Then the lies started. First my wallet was stolen. I didn’t care about the cash, but the credit cards were a hassle. Part of me suspected, so I didn’t cancel them right away. Sure enough, they were used at Ryan’s favorite clothing store. The brat even showed up in a new outfit the next day. It’s not like he has a job or any other source of income besides me, so it couldn’t have been more obvious.

  “Then a friend of his turned out to be much more. I put an end to that, but it wasn’t pretty. I suppose it was karma for what I put you and Jace through. Every time I try to rein him in makes him act out that much more, usually by partying. Last week Ryan ended up in the ER to have his stomach pumped. All he cares about anymore is drinking and drugs.”

  “Looks like you’ve been indulging a bit yourself,” Ben said.

  Tim moved his hand away from his glass and nodded. “Ryan is your opposite. You always brought out the good in me, changed me for the better. With Ryan, I just don’t know. I used to see myself in him. His parents are just as cold as mine, and I saw the pain hidden behind that pretty face of his, but he has a mean streak. Ryan turns his hurt back on the world, and I don’t know what I can do to make him better. Sometimes I think he’s who I would have become if I had never met you.”

  Ben listened, mentally searching for an answer to Tim’s problems. Tim had tried to do right by Ryan, but the anger Ben had seen last night still concerned him. If something didn’t change, Tim might do something he would regret. In any case, Ben didn’t like to see him suffer like this.

  They soon asked for the check. Neither had touched the appetizer, and Tim had already finished the wine. Ben insisted on driving Tim home, imagining for the briefest of moments that the man next to him was a teenager with an injured ankle.

  “This isn’t how I meant for it to be,” Tim grimaced. “How I wanted us to meet again, I mean. I had this dream about you being on stage. Isn’t that crazy? I had no idea you did theater, but I dreamt it anyway.”

  Ben glanced over at him. “And that’s how you found me?”

  “Well, that and some Google-powered stalking.”

  Tim still lived in the same architectural mess as before, but the driveway was overflowing with cars. None of then were sporty enough to belong to Tim. Heavy bass pounded from the house, accompanied by a babble of voices. A forlorn howl occasionally cried out above the din.

  “I told him not to leave her out back,” Tim complained as they got out of the car. “She hates being alone at night.”

  “Chinchilla?”

  “Yeah.” Tim smiled. “Come on. She’ll be glad to see you.”

  Ben didn’t expect Chinchilla to remember him, but her whole butt wagged at turbo speed when she saw him. The puppy Ben had once known was gone, replaced by a stout dog who was all smiles as Tim kissed and pet her. Her leash was tangled around a tree, Tim casting angry glances toward the house as he unclipped the line from her collar.

  “This happens almost nightly,” he muttered.

  “I don’t mean to state the obvious,” Ben said, “but why don’t you just break up with him? I know, I know, you said the sex is really great, but things are only going to get worse.”

  “You’re right, but I don’t know how. You heard him last night. He always threatens to kill himself. The night he overdosed was because I suggested taking a break.”

  Ben thought about this while squatting next to Chinchilla and rubbing her belly. “Here’s what we’ll do. You send Ryan on a trip, a long one, somewhere in Europe. Tell him it’s your way of apologizing. While he’s gone you sell the house and move somewhere new. When he comes back you never contact him and he won’t be able to find you.”

  “Think so?”

  “Yeah. You guys will get some distance between you and things will cool off. Not only that, but wherever you send him, make sure it’s a gay resort.” Ben chuckled. “Or hire an escort to pick him up from the airport. He’s young and hot. I’m sure someone will snatch him up soon. Then he’ll be somebody else’s problem instead of yours.”

  Tim laughed. “You know, that’s just crazy enough that it might work.”

  Ben laughed too, but he knew that this wasn’t the solution. Tim had put up with Ryan for so long because of more than just his suicidal threats. There was emotion there, no matter how unhealthy it was.

  Glass shattered inside the house. Judging from the way the music grew louder, most likely a window had been broken. There was a brief chorus of laughter before the party continued raging.

  “All right,” Ben sighed as he stood. “Time for me to make everything better. Come on.”

  If Ben had felt old when meeting Ryan, he felt positively ancient as he navigated a sea of intoxicated teenagers. With Tim in tow, he felt like they were a pair of angry parents who had come home early from their vacation. A few recognized Tim, but their expressions were amused rather than ashamed, even those who were still laughing over the broken window and the potted plant that had been thrown through it. They had no respect for Tim, and that made Ben all the more incensed.

  Once he had battled his way to the living room, stepping over
a pile of puke on the way, Ben ripped the heart of the party out by unplugging the stereo. A number of loud complaints followed, but one was louder than the others.

  “What the hell is he doing here?”

  The crowd parted for Ryan, whose skin was pale and sweaty. From the way his pupils were dilated, it was safe to assume he was on something.

  “I’m here with my boyfriend,” Ben said, reaching over to take Tim’s hand.

  Ryan barred his teeth like an animal. Ben had never seen anyone actually do that, but Ryan’s fury was so intense he was shaking. He shouted something unintelligible that might have been “I’ll kill you!” before charging toward them. Tim tensed up, ready to defend Ben, which would only escalate into violence. Ben didn’t want that, so he placed a hand on Tim’s face and turned it toward him.

  And then Ben kissed him.

  His newly discovered acting skills weren’t needed for this. As it had always been, the emotions he felt for Tim weren’t far below the surface. From the way Tim reacted, he felt the same way. The room went silent as every person there witnessed a kiss worthy of the big screen. The silence was broken when Ryan began sobbing.

  Ben pulled away from Tim and saw the pain on Ryan’s face. The kiss had convinced Ryan that Ben and Tim were in love, and the kid was too young and stupid to realize that Tim also loved him, that emotions like these never went away completely. Ben felt sorry for him, but he didn’t dare show that now.

  “I’m moving in,” Ben said. “Tim asked me to. You are leaving and never coming back. All of you,” he said loud enough to be heard.

  Nobody moved.

  “I called the cops.”

  People began to stir.

  “And they are bringing drug dogs.”

  That did it. The party goers fled, and within minutes, everyone was gone except Ryan, who was beginning to tremble with anger again.

  “I’ll kill myself,” he said. “I swear to God I will.”

  Ben opened his mouth to retort, but it was Tim who spoke.

  “No, you won’t, Ryan. I know you won’t, because you’re too much of a coward. You’ve been running away since the day I met you, away from your family’s disapproval, away from the one person who loves you, but most of all you’ve been trying to escape from yourself. I was once that cowardly, and you still are.”

  “I overdosed!” Ryan reminded him.

  “And I was there holding your hand in the hospital as they pumped your stomach. When I told you that you almost died, you cried. I thought there was still hope for you then, but I’ve seen you almost overdose every night since. I don’t know how to fix you, Ryan, I wish I did, but it’s not going to be my money that helps destroy you. Not anymore.”

  Ryan tried to argue further, but Tim wouldn’t have it. Ben stepped back and let him deal with everything as Ryan unwillingly packed his bags. Tim called a taxi to take him home, and Ryan began to beg, but Tim stood strong. Only after the taxi turned down the street did Tim’s shoulders slump.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Tim answered, throwing his full weight into a hug that almost knocked Ben off his feet. “You always know how to make things right,” he murmured into Ben’s neck. “I’m a mess without you.”

  “I’m awesome, I know,” Ben said, detangling himself. “I’m also in trouble. Jace is going to give me hell when he finds out I kissed you, no matter what the reason. You are going to make all my suffering worth it by never seeing Ryan again, aren’t you?”

  Tim nodded. “Since you’re going to be in trouble anyway--”

  He stepped close, but Ben pushed him away and they both began laughing. Face lit up with a smile, Tim looked more like his old self again.

  * * * * *

  What should have followed, Ben felt, was a long-lasting relationship that finally allowed them to be friends. This utopia did exist for a brief moment. They saw each other regularly, Jace often joining them, and things were simple. But then the feelings between them began to stir. They both felt it. Sometimes their gazes locked for too long; other times they found excuses to be closer to each other than necessary. Hugs became too intimate, Ben breathing in his scent or Tim rubbing his nose lovingly against his neck.

  The decision was hard to make, but it had to be done. Ben showed up at his door in the middle of the night. Tim was sitting on the front steps, as if he had been expecting him.

  “You’re either here to do something that you really shouldn’t,” Tim said, “or you came to say good-bye.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ben said. “I wish we could just be friends.”

  “No, you don’t.” Tim smiled sadly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Ben wanted to reach out to him, to hug him at least, but he didn’t even trust himself to do that anymore.

  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 today?”

  Ben thought about it, but it was hard to imagine his life without Jace anymore and impossible to transpose Tim into all the memories he and Jace had made together. But for a moment, he could picture more nights of sneaking into Tim’s bedroom, the relief they would have felt when they moved away to college, and how those liberal years would have finally allowed them to be everything that he had once dreamt of.

  Ben swallowed. “I have to go.”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Benjamin. I don’t have anything left.”

  “You do too.”

  “Did I tell you that I came out to my parents?”

  “No.” The lump wouldn’t leave Ben’s throat. Little by little, Tim had always tried to please him.

  “Yeah. They weren’t thrilled. If they were distant before--” Tim shook his head.

  “They’ll get over it,” Ben said. “And if they don’t, then they can fuck themselves.”

  Tim smiled.

  “Don’t go back to Ryan. You don’t need him. Or me. Or anyone else for that matter.”

  “I’ve always needed you,” Tim disagreed.

  “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. You’re so beautiful, and I don’t just mean your face or your body.”

  “Don’t go,” Tim pleaded.

  Ben could only shake his head. If he said any more it would be too late for both of them. He turned and walked slowly to his car, grateful for and despairing every second that passed without Tim trying to stop him. Ben opened his car door and looked back to where Tim stood.

  “Until next time?” Ben said.

  Tim laughed. “Until next time.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Jace padded into the kitchen, naked except for a pair of flannel boxers. He poured his ritual cup of coffee and walked to the bay windows as he had every morning since they bought their new house. Ben admired his body, affection welling up as he eyed Jace’s bed-head—hair sticking up in every direction. Four years of dating and two years of marriage, and Ben found him just as attractive as on that first date. He didn’t think that would ever fade, no matter how many decades went by.

  Jace turned to him with a knowing expression. “I thought I wore you out last night?”

  Ben smirked. “I slept well.”

  Jace tried to grin in response but winced instead.

  “Are you all right?”

  “My head is killing me,” Jace said.

  “You didn’t drink anything last night.”

  “No, but I’m beginning to wish I had, especially if I’m going to have the hangover anyway.” He sat at the kitchen table and rubbed his temples. “Grab me a couple aspirin, would you?”

  “Sure.”

  His face was pale and drawn when Ben returned. �
��Maybe it was something you ate? Is your stomach okay? You could be coming down with a bug.”

  Jace shook his head and tossed the aspirin into his mouth, chasing them down with a swig of coffee. The cup shook as he tried to return it to the table before his hand spasmed. The cup shattered on the linoleum, hot coffee splattering across the floor like blood at a crime scene.

  “So clumsy,” Jace said, standing to fetch a towel. His legs buckled beneath him and he crumpled to the floor, the fear reflected in his eyes fading to emptiness.

  Ben was at his side instantly, holding his head off the floor and launching a barrage of questions that went unanswered. He felt helpless, touching Jace’s face, feeling for fever, trying to find some way to help him. Jace remained unresponsive.

  Ben called 911 and in his panic gave the operator their old address. He called back when he realized his mistake, fearing they would think him a prank caller and never come. Then he waited, switching between checking on Jace and running to the front door. What was taking so long? Didn’t they understand how serious this was? Couldn’t they get here sooner?

  He ran to the driveway when he heard the sirens, his words rambling and confused, but he managed to point the paramedics in the right direction. Jace was unmoving when they collected him off the floor.

  “Is he dead? Is he dead?” he chanted, but all the paramedics said was to stand back.

  He barely had the presence of mind to shut the door as they left, praying Samson hadn’t escaped. Ben clambered into the ambulance, watching as they put a device over Jace’s mouth, a bag that the paramedic squeezed to keep him breathing. That was good. That meant he was alive.

  * * * * *

  “Aneurysm.”

  The doctor had said much more than that, but this was the word Ben fixated on. He struggled to remember what it meant, something with the brain. A tumor? Or just a blip of electricity in the wrong place?

  “His grandmother died from one,” Ben remembered. “Oh god, is he going to--”