After Ben

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After Ben Page 7

by Con Riley


  He made and received calls well into the evening, grateful when Maggie took the phone away for a while. When he asked for his laptop, she narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you want to go on the net, Theo? You don’t want to put your back out even more.” She gave him a knowing look.

  “Contrary to your filthy mind, there is more to the Internet than porn,” Theo replied, affecting disgust, then winking at her. Cruising gay porn sites was something he and Ben used to do together. He hadn’t had the slightest interest since…. Closing his eyes for a second, Theo felt a flush creep up his neck as an image of Peter—head tilted back, throat taut, coming over Theo’s hand and stomach—came to mind.

  Theo puffed out a breath. “I haven’t checked my e-mail for three days,” he said.

  Maggie wasn’t helpful at all. “You can have it in the morning.” She stared him down, then said, “Don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t log into work. I know how you are.” She nodded. “Tomorrow’s soon enough. Four days won’t be the end of the world.”

  Theo took his medication, said goodnight to his assistant, then felt sleep lap around him. What would he have done without Maggie? Theo guessed he could have called his parents. He tried not to think of all the friends who’d tried to be there for him after Ben died. They hadn’t given him a minute’s fucking peace for weeks, until he finally cracked. Remembering, Theo pulled his pillow over his face. Shame—hot and bright—singed his skin. He had sent them all away, saying that he would call when he needed them.

  He couldn’t bear to see them.

  It had taken months for some of their friends to give up trying to visit. Even now he still received e-mails from some of them—little reminders that he hadn’t been forgotten. For the first time in ages, he wondered if he had left things too late to make amends. His cell phone’s ring jolted him from his sleepy thoughts. It was past 10 p.m. already. Snatching it up, suddenly worried that Maggie hadn’t made it home, Theo’s voice was harsh as he answered. “Who is it?”

  “May I speak with Theo Anderson, please?” Theo didn’t recognize the caller’s voice.

  “It’s far too fucking late for telemarketing.” The sharp inhale of breath from the other end of the line sounded shocked. Theo took a moment, then said, “Look, I’m sorry, I was nearly asleep. Who is this?”

  “I’m sorry to call you so late, Mr. Anderson. My name is Evan Daly. I waited as long as I could, but I was starting to worry that you hadn’t received my application for one of your intern spots.”

  Theo stared at the phone for a moment, wondering if he’d taken one pain pill too many.

  “How did you get this number?”

  “Oh, I heard that you called my friend Heather today, and when you didn’t call me, I kind of made her give me your number.”

  Rifling through the first pile of applications, Theo shook his head. Nope, nothing from an Evan Daly. He was just about to say so to his caller when he remembered the pile of candidates he’d rejected.

  “Hang on.” He found the application right away, paged through it quickly, then said, “You were in my reject pile, Mr. Daly. Why do you think that was?” He heard a muffled “fuck,” and smiled to himself. Maybe he was being a little harsh, but damn, it was too late at night to chase an internship.

  “I guess you don’t get too many wannabe architects applying to learn the ins and outs of corporate finance,” the caller replied. “It’s just that I have a very personal reason for applying, and I think that if you gave me a shot, I wouldn’t be too horrible a prospect. I’m not loud, and I could get my hair cut.” The kid sounded kind of desperate, and Theo tried not to laugh. “I’m good at fixing stuff up, so if I broke your copier, I could probably get it working for you again before you noticed.”

  Theo asked him to stop.

  “You’re not exactly selling yourself, kid. What’s your very personal reason, Mr. Daly?” he asked. “I’m intrigued.”

  “I’d rather not say, if that’s okay.”

  Theo sighed. The conversation bordered on bizarre.

  “I’m going to end this call now. I admire your resourcefulness in finding my cell number, but I’m too tired to think about this right now.” He was just starting to say good-bye when his caller butted in, sounding agitated, his voice rising.

  “It’s my mom. I’m sorry, but it’s just that she’s pinned her hopes on me following in Dad’s footsteps.” His caller’s voice thickened a little, sounding horribly close to tears, before he cleared his throat and started again. “I want to be an architect. It’s what I love, but my mom dreams of me working in the same office that Dad did. My brother Aiden couldn’t do it for her; he already works all the fucking time. I know I won’t ever have the same career as Dad for real, but maybe she’ll settle for an internship.”

  Theo had a sudden sense of his stomach plummeting. “Wait. Are you David Daly’s boy?”

  Evan’s answer was a muffled sniff followed by a husky-voiced reply. “Yes. I’m his youngest.”

  Crap.

  David Daly had taught Theo so much when he joined the company. He’d been quiet, thoughtful, and always had a moment to listen when Theo was still figuring out how to manage people. His death had been a shock. Theo remembered David’s funeral much more clearly than Ben’s service, even though it had been at least three years prior. His wife had lost it when the casket had been lowered. He vaguely recalled her sons holding her back, one tall, broad, and maybe college aged, the other small, skinny, and looking at least five years younger—still just a kid.

  Yes, that was right: A white-faced, tearful kid.

  “I’m interviewing on Friday. Give me your number, Evan.”

  Evan’s thanks nearly burst Theo’s eardrum. He went to sleep still hearing faint echoes.

  MORGAN: Where the fuck are you?

  MORGAN: Come on. Come on. Come on. COME ON.

  MORGAN: Theo, quit it. I know you’re there.

  MORGAN: People are being fucking idiots. You are missing it. LOSER.

  MORGAN: Two days, Theo. This is very impressive sulking.

  MORGAN: Okay, okay. I’m sorry for whatever I said that annoyed you.

  MORGAN: Are you okay?

  MORGAN: Please talk to me, Theo. Whatever it is, spill it already.

  MORGAN: Three days, Theo. WTF?

  MORGAN: I could do with someone to talk with right now.

  Once his back eased up a little, Theo’s first mission had been to retrieve his laptop. He blinked as he scrolled through e-mail after e-mail recording missed chats with Morgan.

  Feeling an odd mixture of pleasure and guilt, he logged into chat right away rather than opening his work e-mail. Morgan’s light was green, signaling that he was online. When he didn’t answer Theo’s greeting right away, he caught up with some work instead.

  Later, after taking a fucking age to walk to the kitchen from his study, Theo made a sandwich from anything he could reach without bending. It might not have been the most nutritionally balanced meal, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. The weeks after throwing his back out were like walking a tightrope. It only took the slightest of misjudgments to make him fall back into bed for another week. He carried his sandwich to the study and sat down—slowly, carefully—at his laptop again.

  Still no reply from Morgan.

  Theo’s phone chimed.

  PETER: How are you doing today?

  They texted back and forth for a few minutes. Peter was busy beyond belief and loving it. Theo logged into the forum while he read Peter’s texts explaining that he was enjoying San Francisco. It had been over a year since Theo last visited the Bay area. He recommended some places to eat, then smiled as the man snuck in one last message:

  PETER: I’m still not sorry.

  Theo wasn’t sorry for their one-time encounter either. Not really. Just as long as he didn’t have to think about it becoming more than that.

  More was still beyond him.

  He scanned through the forums quickly before preparing for the intern int
erviews scheduled for the next afternoon. As he started reading, he quickly realized that Morgan had been very busy. His handiwork made Theo lean toward the screen thoughtlessly, before gasping at a sudden twinge of pain.

  MORGAN: Hey, where’s Theo?

  What had started out as a simple question on the social thread turned into a multi-page thread.

  As he read—blinking, disbelieving—he discovered that, far from being an unnoticed reader and somewhat irregular poster, he was viewed by many of the more prolific players as a key member of the forum, an important part of their community.

  He was missed.

  After a year of pushing most people away, including all of their friends, most of his family, and a lot of his colleagues, he saw that he hadn’t truly been alone. Morgan might be relatively new to their Internet world, but other members recalled some specific moments that Theo had forgotten entirely.

  One person commented that Theo had welcomed them privately when they joined, and had pointed out some topics that might help them find their way, only to be answered by many more who said the same thing. Morgan was pissed. Theo smiled as he read that Morgan was disgusted. He thought what they had in private was special. He even found an animated image of a breaking heart.

  Other people commented on Theo’s warm sense of humor, and his ability to roll with the punches when his point of view wasn’t popular. You had to expect fights on a political board—election time was fucking nuts—but Theo hadn’t ever seen the point in bearing grudges. His dad used to say that all human beings were the same on the inside, and perhaps that was an early lesson that stuck.

  It certainly read that way.

  Apparently Theo made sad people laugh, although he wasn’t sure that had always been intentional, and he made time for people who just needed to offload. Frankly, after the hand he’d been dealt, very little that came up on the forum seemed so terrible to him. Other members’ financial worries, job issues, and family fights all seemed solvable, so he didn’t ever hesitate to offer ideas.

  Everyone said that he was a positive influence, an all-round team player, and someone good to know.

  As the evening light dimmed outside his window, Theo sat in his empty apartment blinking at his laptop screen, smiling until his cheeks ached, wishing that Morgan would come online.

  He read every single message.

  Every single one.

  Then he went right back to the beginning and read them all again.

  Chapter 6

  LATER, Theo put the events of the day down to his medication. At the time, his decisions seemed considered, rational even, but later he guessed that maybe his mind had been a little altered.

  It wasn’t until Theo tried to get dressed on Friday morning that he finally accepted he wasn’t getting better in a hurry. He figured it was just another part of passing forty. Previous back-pain episodes might have been as painful, but they’d also been relatively short-lived. This time the pain hung around like a dog with no home.

  Still, Theo thought, the show must go on.

  Maggie was sympathetic, yet confused, as she tried to follow Theo’s train of thought. Sighing again, Theo wondered if he should cut back on his medication. She agreed that interviewing the interns was a priority. Already the filing and copying were piling up as the audit season started. The situation wasn’t going to get better anytime soon, especially as the whole team would be pulling heavier loads to make up for the loss of their former colleagues.

  But what difference would a few days really make, she wondered. Theo sighed loudly. Maggie heard him clearly, even over the ruckus her kids were making.

  “Why don’t you tell me what it is you’ve already planned, Theo?” She knew him too well.

  “I can’t drive—I can barely get dressed—but I can interview from my couch, right?” He couldn’t bear to waste another day. Besides, if departments were being scrutinized for cost savings, he couldn’t let his team look unproductive. The sooner he hired temporary staff—even inexperienced interns—the quicker the department could get back to its new version of normal.

  He could only imagine how the rest of the team felt. He’d fired key staff members, resourceful and successful individuals on the whole. How could any of them feel safe? Add in the fact that their boss hadn’t been at work for a week, and he was sure the rumors must be flying.

  He listened as Maggie sighed once more before asking, “Can you at least get your own pants on, Theo?” The smile in her voice was evident. “Don’t want to scare the new hires before they even start.”

  Assuring her that he was almost dressed—sweats would have to do—he listed what he needed her to arrange once she arrived at the office. She told him to hush when he apologized for the early call again. She understood. He needed her to bring the necessary paperwork to him.

  “So,” she summarized, “I’ll reschedule the interviews and give them directions to your apartment. You’ll leave the door unlocked, and they should just come on in and find you, right?”

  Theo agreed.

  It was the best he could do.

  Maggie’s “Okay,” was long and drawn out. “Expect Evan Daly first, then Joel Hudson before lunch. I’ll be with you by lunchtime. That way I can continue with the other applicants if you need to crash for a while.”

  She carried on, not giving Theo a moment to thank her. “I’ll bring food with me. Do you need anything else?”

  Theo thanked his lucky stars again. Of all the dark clouds that crossed his mind when he considered the past twelve months, Maggie’s calm support was his one silver lining.

  He was still thinking about her when the first tentative buzz sounded at his front door. Theo waited for the prospective intern to let himself in. When the door buzzer sounded again, he tried calling out, asking the man to come on in already. At the third buzz, he sighed, then slowly, slowly, slowly inched himself from the couch.

  He guessed that maybe his expression wasn’t too welcoming when the kid who waited, dressed in a formal business suit, stepped back after Theo swung the door open. He couldn’t help himself; the pain was etched into his face.

  “Fuck….” the slim blond kid started, quickly followed by an almost inaudible “Shit.”

  Theo blamed the pain medication when he started to laugh. As interviews went, cursing wasn’t a typical beginning. He hauled his snorts back in when the kid at the door started to back away, a hot and painful looking flush creeping up his neck. He spoke as he stepped backward.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Anderson. That just slipped out. Your assistant told me to let myself in, but that just seemed… rude. She didn’t mention that you were injured. I should have realized that was why she said to go ahead and just come in.” He shook his head so that his fine, almost silver blond hair covered his eyes momentarily. When he flicked his hair to one side, Theo saw that his eyes were pale gray. In the dim entranceway, he looked almost ghostly.

  Leaning heavily on the stick that Maggie had brought him, Theo tried to smile, hoping he didn’t actually look scary. The kid already looked ready to faint.

  “Come in, Mr. Daly. Perhaps we should just start again.” He watched, smiling internally as the young man visibly pulled back his shoulders and huffed out a breath. Had he ever been so transparent, Theo wondered. Had he seemed so hopeless and nerve-wracked when he’d attended his own intern interview?

  He guessed he had been more nervous when he was interviewed out of grad school, but there had been a lot more riding on that opportunity. Ben had seen him off from college, sending him up to Seattle with a hundred good luck kisses. He would be wonderful, they would love him; how could they not? Ben’s supportive words had traveled with him.

  When he was offered the job, they had celebrated in bed, and on the couch, and in the kitchen. They had celebrated all week. Ben was so delighted for him—for them—to have an opportunity to settle so near to Theo’s family, given that Ben’s own were so missed, and so very far away.

  Theo showed the nervous prospe
ctive intern into the living room, then excused himself. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he struggled for a moment. Getting stuck in a thought loop where he revisited the decision they had made so fucking long ago to move back to Seattle was becoming more and more rare, but sometimes, just sometimes….

  He knew it did no good to dwell on might haves and if onlys. One aspect of moving home hadn’t worked out for them, but the rest of their lives together had been golden, right?

  Pouring a couple of glasses of water and taking another pill gave him a moment to put himself in the candidate’s shoes. Pain or not, it was up to him to establish a professional start to the interview process.

  When he returned to his living room, the kid was standing near the fireplace, scrutinizing the pictures arranged there. Theo frowned at what he felt was an invasion of his privacy, that is, until he saw which photo Evan was looking at. He’d picked up a framed photo of Theo and Ben at a company party. They were part of a group shot—everyone was smiling—and Ben was holding someone’s little girl, laughing. It was a fabulous photo of Ben and the child, just fabulous.

  Theo swallowed.

  “My dad looks so happy in this photo.” The candidate—Evan—tried really hard to smile. It was such a familiar expression to Theo, who almost felt his own face twist in sympathy. “I wonder if he really was—if he ever was.” And that was the absolutely worst thing about sudden death, Theo knew: unanswered questions.

  He looked at the photo over the smaller man’s shoulder while Evan named the other people pictured. Evan’s father was at the center of the group, his smile reflected by the one worn by his wife. Theo said, “I saw your dad pretty much every workday for around ten years, Evan. He always seemed such a family guy, devoted to you and….”

 

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