All That Glitters

by Kate Sherwood

  Everything had worked out. The people at the office had seemed genuinely excited by the change, and things were going smoothly. Allison had been satisfyingly unsure of herself before he’d pulled her aside and offered a little reassurance. He’d been vindicated, and he’d celebrated with his friends. It was good. Everything was good.

  And his goddamn face was wet again. Crying? Seriously?

  “No,” he muttered, and he brushed impatiently at his eyes. He needed to make a doctor’s appointment or something—maybe his tear ducts were blocked, or overproducing—he didn’t really know how tears worked. Because he’d damn well never had to know, because he didn’t cry!

  “Everything’s good,” he told himself, and he walked a little faster. If his cheeks got wet again, he refused to acknowledge it. Everything was fine. Better than fine. He was incredibly lucky. He was absolutely not crying.

  BEN MADE it through the week. Two more dinner dates with Kevin both ended with kisses and thinly veiled preaching about not rushing into anything or making anyone nervous. The dinners themselves were fairly pleasant, and it wasn’t as if Kevin didn’t have a pretty good reason to be cautious of Ben’s level of commitment, so Ben tried to put up with the irritation at the end of the night.

  And he tried not to think about how things had been different with Liam. Petty irritation? Hell no. Ben would have told Liam to stop being such a prissy pain in the ass, Liam would have told Ben it took one to know one, and they would have had a quick fight followed by scorching makeup sex.

  Well, that’s how they would have done it when they were kids. But, Ben reminded himself again, the way they’d done it when they were kids hadn’t worked. Liam had cheated. Ben had—well, Ben still wasn’t quite sure how to classify his own behavior, but it certainly hadn’t been mature. It certainly wasn’t the way he wanted to behave now.

  And it wasn’t really that important for him to understand the details of it because it was all in the past, and he was focused on the future. Yup, the future. He was spending time with Kevin, not thinking about Liam—well, hardly thinking about him at all—well, yeah, he was working through some issues, possibly, that were somewhat related to Liam, but—

  It wasn’t a good sign that when his phone rang on Friday afternoon, his first thought was that it must be Liam calling. There was absolutely no reason for it to be Liam. Liam was gone, he was done. But when the display showed an unfamiliar number with a Manhattan area code, there was no surprise. It all felt fated, somehow.

  Ben answered calmly, and the jolt through his belly when he heard Liam’s voice? It would have been nice to pretend that it was surprise, but Ben wasn’t quite that good at self-deception. Or at least not that quick.

  Still he managed to keep his cool as he said, “Why are you calling, Liam? I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t be seeing each other.”

  “Agreed?” Liam snorted. “If that’s what you want to call it. But actually that is why I’m calling.”

  Ben braced himself. He needed to be strong. Whatever Liam was about to say, Ben would just be cool and controlled and deal with it. “What do you mean?”

  “Calvin called me. Thanked me for my nursing care, so I think he must have been pretty delirious while he was sick. But whatever, he sounds back to normal and I guess he’s having a baby shower for Seth and his wife tomorrow? He invited me to come. I said I didn’t think it would be a good idea since you and I aren’t—well, I think I said something lame, like that we aren’t on great terms or something like that. Anyway, he said he was sure you’d be fine with it. But Calvin isn’t known for his tight relationship with either reality or the truth, so I thought I should give you a call and make sure. You know, because of the ‘wouldn’t be seeing each other’ thing.”

  Uncle Calvin. Was it possible for the man to be Ben’s savior and his nemesis? “Why would you want to drive all the way from the city just for some baby shower?”

  Liam was still polite but several degrees cooler. “I don’t think my motivations are actually any of your business, are they? I mean, unless they involve you, which they don’t.”

  “But you’re asking my permission to attend?”

  “’Permission’ is probably a little strong. But I don’t want you to throw a scene at Seth’s big day, so I thought I’d better check in. If you’re not going to be able to control yourself—I don’t know what the baby-shower equivalent of ramming a cop car would be, maybe passing out and falling on the cake or something—then I guess I’ll have to stay away. But if you can control yourself? If you’ve moved on with your new-old guy and are totally over me in every way? Then there shouldn’t be a problem with me coming to the party. Right?”

  Ben found himself suddenly yearning for Kevin’s little tidbits of cattiness. So much more subtle, so much easier to ignore. “What’s Seth’s wife’s name, Liam? What about his current kid? Name would be nice, but do you even know gender? Age? Are you honestly pretending you give a shit about Seth? Really?”

  “We spent some time together at the building site, remember? And Seth and I were friends before either of us knew who the hell the geeky little kid with all the books even was. I let that friendship get messed up—let my shit with you affect how he and I got along—but that was a mistake. I’d like to see what I can do about fixing it. Although, again, none of that is any of your damn business.”

  “You seriously don’t think you’re taking this stroll down memory lane a little too far? Your parents are getting divorced. I guess you’re finding that traumatic. But you know you can’t actually transport yourself into the past, right? You can’t travel back to a magical, simple time when everyone’s parents still—”

  “What are you even talking about? My parents? I was—surprised, I think. That’s the best word. It shook me up a little, for, like, four hours, and then I was over it. None of this—My parents? Seriously? How the hell are you connecting this to my parents?”

  “Four hours? You came up here the day of Terry’s funeral, you were upset at the graveyard, you hung around for days, came back for the build, you were thinking about them the night we—you know. Sunday night. How is that four hours?”

  There was a pause before Liam said, “I only found out about my parents on Sunday. The earlier stuff—why did you think my parents were involved?”

  Ben fought to bring order to his thoughts. “I—well, why else would you have been up here?” Then he remembered Liam’s words on that first day. You never saw me any of the other times. How many other times had there been? And why had Liam made the trip, ever?

  “Hey, Ben?” Liam asked, his voice soft. It stayed gentle—deceptively gentle—as he said, “You’re not interested in me, remember? We wrapped things up, left it all on a positive note. Right?”

  Ben wanted to rage, to scream, to hurl insults or challenges or demands. But he was an adult now. He was mature and had self-control. At the very least he wouldn’t let Liam’s little trap do its job. He swallowed hard, then said, “You’re right. This is none of my business. And it’s none of my business if you want to go to Seth’s baby shower. His wife’s name is Dinah and their daughter is Tamara. They’re both pretty wonderful. I think you’ll really like them.”

  And those final few words were enough to bring him back to a calmer place, at least temporarily. “Thanks for calling to check on this—I guess I wouldn’t have had the right to object even if I’d wanted to, but I appreciate the chance to avoid the surprise. I think the cake would have been safe, but you can never be sure.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And that was all.

  Or at least it should have been. But instead of settling down to get some grading done as he’d been planning, Ben changed into running clothes and set out along the river. He tried to find peace in the flowing of the water, the singing of the birds. He gave up on that and tried to fall into the rhythm of his strides, the slap of his footfalls along the path. He had no thoughts, no emotions. He was a machine. A running mach
ine, working effectively, efficiently, mindlessly.

  Liam? There was no Liam. There was only the pounding of his feet, and of his heart. The burning in his legs, the sweat soaking his shirt. He was physical, not mental. He was at peace.

  At least temporarily.

  Chapter Eighteen

  LIAM BROUGHT a Sleep Sheep to the baby shower. He’d bought it the night before on the recommendation of a couple mothers at work, gotten it gift wrapped at the store, and written something carefully neutral on the card. That night, after tossing and turning for several hours, struggling to get some rest, trying not to think about who he was going to see the next day and how it all would go, he’d ripped through the paper, yanked the damn sheep out of its box, and cycled through the sounds. The heartbeat and whales were creepy, the surf made him restless, but the rain? Hell, yeah. That rain hit the spot.

  Which meant, of course, that he had to make another run to the baby store in order to pick up a new Sleep Sheep the next morning. He was helped by the same clerk as the day before, and he had to resist the urge to make up excuses for why he was becoming some sort of Sleep Sheep shepherd. His shopping decisions were none of the clerk’s business.

  Just like Ben’s life was none of Liam’s.

  Just like it hasn’t been for the last fifteen years, he reminded himself. No reason to start getting worked up about it now. After all, he’d been the one to try to convince Calvin about the different mores of gay relationships. He knew perfectly well, in theory and in practice, that it was possible to have sex, good sex, with someone you didn’t really care about. So why the hell was he acting as if he and Ben had made some sort of commitment to each other just because they’d fucked?

  He drove into North Falls without being able to answer that question. The closest he could get was “wishful thinking.” He’d wanted it to mean more. He’d wanted—well, he wasn’t completely sure what he’d wanted. But he definitely hadn’t been dreaming of a day when he’d walk into a damn baby shower and see Ben with his new boyfriend. Old boyfriend. Whatever. Except—what the fuck? That asshole got a second chance, but Liam didn’t?

  Possibly that asshole hadn’t cheated on Ben and then waited a decade and a half to try to make amends.

  He’d found parking well down the block from Calvin’s house. Considering that many of the guests probably lived in town and would have walked, the number of cars suggested a serious shindig. Not that Liam would expect anything less from Calvin, but his limited experience with baby showers suggested that they tended to be more intimate affairs.

  He was glad he’d gotten a gift receipt for the damn Sleep Sheep, because with this many guests there were bound to be some duplicate presents.

  Yeah, that’s what he was going to worry about. That would be his dominant thought walking into this party.

  Damn, I sure hope nobody else bought a Sleep Sheep. Or at least I hope my sheep is the first one to get opened so I’m not the loser who has to sit there and watch them open a present somebody else already gave them. Yeah, this Sleep Sheep thing is a real issue. I am really, really concerned about the Sleep Sheep. Nothing else. Just the sheep.

  “Liam!” a jovial voice called as he approached the house. Calvin was in the doorway wearing a long, flowing shirt with some sort of characters embroidered around the hem. Ragged jeans underneath, but the shirt was festive enough to count as dressed up, at least for Uncle Calvin. And he seemed genuinely pleased to see Liam, although of course that could all be an act. Pleased that mayhem was about to erupt at his event, possibly.

  Still, Liam’s smile felt pretty natural. He held up his gift box. “Have you seen anything else this size and shape? If you have, I think we need to hide the others until after mine is unwrapped. That’s totally normal, right?”

  “You’re the third person who’s asked,” Calvin agreed seriously. He squinted at the box. “Football?” he guessed.

  “Do babies enjoy football, generally?”

  “Babies don’t give a shit. Well, no, let me correct myself—that’s about all babies do. So you might as well get them something that’ll be useful down the line.” He stood back from the door and gestured Liam inside. “I bought it a little cask of scotch. Seth and Dinah can stash it away somewhere—if they don’t get desperate and drink it themselves—and the kid can crack it open when he or she turns sixteen.”

  “Uh, twenty-one, technically.”

  “Technically,” Calvin agreed.

  “Wait. Did you honestly buy the baby a cask of scotch?”

  “Scotch doesn’t age in the bottle, so it had to be a cask for there to be any meaning to the gift.”

  “You’re focusing on the ‘cask’ part. I admit, I was distracted by the ‘scotch.’ For a baby.” Liam shook his head. “I can’t decide if that’s the best baby gift I’ve ever heard of or the worst.”

  “That was just the effect I was trying for.” They were in the kitchen then, and Calvin waved an arm in roughly the direction of the fridge. “Beer in there. Wine and hard stuff out on the deck. Snacks out there too.”

  Liam peeked through the kitchen window and almost recoiled at the sight. The yard was jam-packed with people. There were yellow and white ribbons and sashes and huge paper flowers hanging from every tree, several oversized, inflatable animals that might have been Disney, might have been knockoffs…. “You went all out,” he managed.

  “Seth’s family’s been in the area since settler days, and Dinah’s a teacher—everyone loves teachers, as long as they’re cute and sweet, which Dinah is. This party is the social event of the season.”

  Cute and sweet. Sure, Liam loved cute, sweet teachers. Surly, emotionally withdrawn teachers? Were they popular with everyone too, or was Liam special that way?

  He reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer, then looked over at Calvin and got the nod that made him grab another. He twisted the lids off, held one of the bottles out to his host, and said, “I called Ben and asked if it was okay that I came.”

  Calvin nodded. “He told me. You’re a spoilsport for ruining the surprise. I didn’t get to see the cop car incident—I was hoping to get some fun out of this.”

  Which was kind of why Liam had brought the topic up. “If you’re just looking for entertainment? If I’m only here because you want to torture Ben? I know you don’t owe me anything, but we both care about Ben, so for his sake—”

  “Kevin!” Calvin said brightly, looking somewhere over Liam’s shoulder. “Excellent timing! I don’t think you’ve met Liam, have you? He and Seth and Ben all grew up together. Liam, this is Kevin—he’s Ben’s date.”

  Liam turned reluctantly and found himself staring at an empty doorway. “Where’d he—” he started, but one look at Calvin made it clear there had never been anyone to be introduced to. “I guess it’s too much to hope that Kevin is imaginary all the time? Like, Ben’s not actually dating anyone?”

  “That would be too much to hope for, would it? That would be something really special for you?” Calvin reached up and gripped Liam’s shoulder and steered him toward the back door. They paused on the threshold, looking out at the crowd, and Calvin jerked his chin toward the big maple tree. Ben was standing underneath its branches, talking to some guy. Some guy who was smiling at Ben in a way that made Liam want to march across the yard and punch the guy in the face. And Ben was smiling back.

  “Kevin,” Calvin said calmly. “He exists. And, honestly, he’s pretty nice. Unbelievably boring, but so is Ben these days. Which means they’re a good couple, I guess.”

  Liam closed his eyes, but when he opened them the guy was still there, still smiling. But now Ben was looking over toward the house and had clearly seen Liam, judging by the way his expression had darkened.

  So. There it was. The other guy—Kevin—made Ben smile. Liam made Ben frown. Hard to get much clearer than that.

  Liam knew with a sick twist in his gut that he shouldn’t have come. Yeah, he wanted to rebuild the relationship with Seth, but there would be other op
portunities for that. Times that wouldn’t be as painful. He’d only accepted Calvin’s invitation because he’d wanted to see Ben. Because he’d been a fool. Again.

  Calvin clapped him on the back and said, “Put the present over on that table—we’re not going to sit around and watch them get opened. Too boring. And make sure you sign the onesie—we’re doing that instead of a guest book.”

  Then he raised his voice and addressed the crowd. “Now! It’s time for the games! I warned you all that these aren’t optional… but not everyone will be taking part in every event. We need an audience of rabid fans, obviously. And don’t forget to write down your guesses for the games in the living room—guess the number of jelly beans, match the baby photos to the adult guest photos, and all the rest of that stuff. Out here, though, we’re going to be starting with the pregnant-man shoe-tie event! So, let me set up the first contestants! Only men wearing shoes that lace up are eligible!”

  Liam faded back out of sight and counted himself lucky to be escaping. Keep it casual, drop off the gift, sign the damn onesie, and get the hell out of—

  “Careful,” a female voice came from too close behind him. He’d almost backed into her. He turned and saw a pregnant woman smiling back at him, her hand cradled protectively over her belly. The same pregnant woman who’d been with Seth at the house site. “I’m walking for two, you know. Can’t dodge as quickly as I should.”

  Oh, shit. “Did I just almost crush the guest of honor?”

  She beamed at him and held out her hand. “I’ve seen you, but we’ve never really met. I’m Dinah, you’re Liam, and we should have a drink.”

  “Are you allowed to drink? Not that it’s my job to police your alcohol consumption. Or anything else. Sorry. Your body is not public property.”

  She smiled. “You’ve been well indoctrinated. Excellent. And of course I can drink. Not alcohol, but… liquids. You can get me a glass of the pink punch in that beehive cooler. I watched Calvin make it and put the lid on, so I know he didn’t sneak any booze into it. Then come sit with me on the porch. I’ll save you a seat.”