by P. Kirby
Maya chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Although, once, when I was young, my dad got a kite up pretty high. He let my brother fly it for a while and then it was my turn.” She made a sad face. “The second I took the line, it came crashing to the ground. My brother called me a kite killer for months.”
Youthful enthusiasm shone from Benjamin’s eyes. “I bet you could fly one of Lane’s kites. They want to be in the sky. Maybe we—” He shut up, and they stared at each other, separated by the odd reality between them, his plans to be somewhere else in less than two weeks.
To fill the awkward moment, Maya said, “How about you just teach me how to unlock my car with magic?”
On the way out, they ran into Lane again. “Was everything okay?” he asked.
“Delicious,” said Maya.
“Barely eatable,” said Benjamin, unsuccessfully dodging Maya’s gentle elbow in his side.
Taking Maya’s hand in both of his, Lane said, “Friends don’t let friends drive Volvos.”
“Lane,” Benjamin said with weary humor.
Lane laughed. He started to release Maya’s hand and then stopped. “Oh, I remember. Yesterday, at lunch. You were with Adam.” The man darted a look at Benjamin.
“Yes.” She glanced at Benjamin. All emotion had left his face, replaced by the guarded expression he’d had when they first met.
They said goodbye and headed out into the night. Benjamin was quiet and she could feel his dark mood. Finally, a block from her house, and after several minutes of silence, or as much silence as was possible with the noisy din of the Volvo’s engine, she spoke. “Is there something wrong?”
“Adam is dangerous.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means what it means. He’s dangerous, ruthless.”
“This is coming from a professional burglar?”
He pulled up in front of her house and cut the engine. “I don’t hurt people.”
“You take other people’s belongings, Benjamin. You don’t think that hurts people?”
“No. I mean it’s not like that. I—”
“You break into someone’s house, violate the sanctity of their home, and take things that they worked hard to get, things they love. Just because someone doesn’t bleed, doesn’t mean they aren’t hurt.” She glared at him, surprised by her sudden anger.
“You’re right,” he said, looking so crestfallen that she felt an irritating twinge of guilt. “But Adam—”
“Adam’s in law enforcement. I think some ‘hurting’ goes with the territory.” She closed her eyes and then opened them. “If you know it’s wrong, why do you still steal?”
He stared back, his expression lost. “It’s all I know.”
Benjamin the thief; Adam the cop. Constraints set by her. The implication was too much for her to bear. Frustrated and still angry, she fumbled with the unfamiliar door latch on the Volvo, figured it out and jumped out of the vehicle, giving the door a satisfying slam. As she stomped up her drive, she heard the car’s door close behind her. She shoved her key in the front door lock and gave it a vicious turn.
“If you break the key in the lock, I guess an unlock spell would come in handy.” Benjamin’s voice was right behind her. She scowled. Damned sneaky thief. Ignoring him, she opened the door.
Now in the habit of listening to the sounds of her house before rushing in, she paused in the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” said Benjamin.
“Nothing, I just—” She stopped, listening. Something was missing, a sound. Curiosity overriding good sense, she walked into the house. “The aquarium pump. It’s gone off,” she said, moving quickly to the living room.
The aquarium’s light was on, but it looked wrong, too bright, not broken by the water. She flipped on the light switch and the room was bathed in light. Her gaze fell on the aquarium.
“Oh, no.”
Chapter Fourteen
A tiny flood had swept out from the aquarium and surged across the tile floor, the water’s progress partially dammed by the faux Indian rug that covered the center of the floor. Maya froze, hand over her mouth.
Benjamin brushed past her and toward the aquarium. Reaching a point about three feet from the source of the disaster, he took an enormous step, finding the only dry spot to the left side of the aquarium. Balanced on one foot, he leaned behind the aquarium and unplugged the pump, heater and light.
Partially breaking through her shocked lassitude, she walked toward the aquarium, staring at the orange lump that lay on the gravel. Benjamin, meanwhile, pulled off the aquarium top and reached in toward the bottom.
“It must have just emptied. I think your fish is alive.”
“What?”
“Get me some paper towels. We might be able to save her.”
Her mouth moved and then she turned and darted to the kitchen. When she returned, a roll of paper towels in hand, Benjamin was crouched, hands cupped around Delilah, who now lay in the deepest part of the spill on the tiles. Maya approached, tearing away the plastic wrapping on the towels.
Bending next to Benjamin, she saw Delilah’s mouth open and close and her gills flutter. “Will she survive?” she asked as Benjamin tore off several towels and wet them in the spill.
“Maybe. We need to get her in more water.” He dribbled water over the fish with one towel. “I need you to fill the kitchen sink with water, enough to keep her temporarily.” As Maya started for the kitchen, he said, “Don’t forget to use the chlorine remover.”
Still emotionally numb, she shoved the plug in the drain and started to fill the sink, using a thermometer to adjust the water temperature to match what Delilah was accustomed to. As the sink filled, she thought back to earlier in the evening. There had been more water than usual from Delilah’s spill. Had it actually been the result of a burst seam in the aquarium? She had started a round of futile second-guessing and self-recrimination when Benjamin entered the kitchen, Delilah wrapped in wet paper towels. He slipped the fish into the water.
“She’s just lying on the bottom,” Maya said, unable to hide her dismay.
“That’s normal, I think.” He picked up the chlorine remover and squirted more in the water. “This stuff sometimes helps with shock.”
“I think the spill this evening was the beginning of—” Maya gestured at the half-dead fish and back to the living room “—this mess.”
“Maybe. I’ve never seen a silicon seal fail that way.” He looked at Maya and reached a hand to her. He hesitated and then gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Do you have a shop vac?”
“No.” Her gaze settled on the hand on her shoulder. “But I know someone who does.”
“Great.” He let go of Maya and shoved his sleeve up his left arm, looking at his watch. “If I go now, I might make it before the stores close.”
“You’re leaving?” Hearing the reproach in her voice, she tried to smile although it felt like a grimace. “Thanks for your help.”
His eyes narrowed with mild confusion. “It shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes. Cerrillos Pet Emporium is about ten minutes from here. I think they carry tanks big enough for an Oscar.”
“Fish tank. Right.” He was gone before she could put together more of a response. At a loss, she focused on her finny patient. To her delight, she saw that Delilah had righted herself and was swimming slow circuits of her stainless-steel enclosure. After several rounds, the fish tilted slightly and one eye glared up at Maya.
“It’s not the Ritz, but it’s the best I can do for now,” Maya said, switching off the faucet. She dipped her finger gingerly in the water and Delilah allowed her to stroke her side for a few seconds. Then she twitched her tail and resumed her exploration of the sink.
Maya picked up the phone and dialed Roland’s number. After she gave Roland a quick rundown of the disaster and need for a shop vac, she got a bucket from under the sink and pulled spare towels from the linen closet.
The phone rang just after she’d filled the bucket a fifth t
ime with water squeezed from the towels. The living room pond looked just as bad as when she’d started. “It’s like trying to empty the ocean with a teacup.” Allowing herself a loud sigh, she reached for the phone.
“Hi, Maya.”
The voice cut through her depression. “Adam.”
“Did I call at a bad time?”
“Yes, I mean no.” She ran her tongue over her lips, remembering his kiss. “I’ve got a mini-crisis happening here.” Suddenly she felt Benjamin’s absence as a dull throb and she wanted to talk to someone. So she told Adam what had happened in a fast current of words, but omitted any mention of Benjamin.
“What a mess. Guess you’ll have to hire someone to clean it up.”
“God, I hope not. My friend’s coming over with a vacuum.”
“Good,” he said and for a heartbeat, she detected impatience. His voice warmed and she dismissed the tone as her own insecurities. “I was hoping you would have dinner with me tomorrow.”
Her mouth leaped to say yes but her heart clenched with unexpected guilt. Caught between her lingering desire for Adam and the fact that she was technically still on a date with Benjamin, the man who was currently out getting new housing for her fish. But even in the wake of the warm sense of safety left by Benjamin, Adam’s charisma tugged at her.
“Okay,” she said, though it felt a little as if someone else were speaking through her.
She didn’t have time to think about the matter because seconds after she hung up with Adam, the front door rattled. It then flew open, Roland and Eric marching into her hallway, a blast of cold air following in their wake. “Never fear, the gay rescue team is here,” Roland said with a big smile for Maya.
Giving Roland “the look,” Eric clomped past him, still wearing his steel-toe work boots and soil-crusted jeans. A squat, black vacuum, which looked a little like an ugly R2D2, was under one of his arms. With cool efficiency, Eric uncoiled a yellow extension cord that he had slung over one shoulder. Plugging it and the vacuum into an outlet in the hallway, he made for the living room, bald head shining in the light.
“Everything’s unplugged, right?” he asked, looking at the aquarium.
“Yeah,” Maya said. “Benjamin unplugged everything.”
There was a funny pause, a second when she could almost hear the name being processed in Eric’s and Roland’s minds. “Benjamin?” they said together.
“Imaginary, redheaded, hottie Benjamin?” Roland said.
A hot blush warmed Maya’s face. Arms crossed over her chest, she said, “He’s so not imaginary.”
Roland and Eric exchanged a glance and then gave her an identical smirk. “So where is he?” Roland asked.
“He went to get Delilah a new tank.”
“Delilah,” Roland said. “She’s still…alive?”
“Thanks to Benjamin. She’s in the kitchen sink.”
Eric switched on the vacuum and started to slurp up the water. Roland disappeared into the kitchen and Maya used the towels to dam the remaining water. The vacuum filled quickly and Eric shut it off and went to dump out water.
With the help of the vacuum, forty-five gallons of water was sucked off her floor and sent down the drain. They were using towels and a mop to wipe the remaining moisture from the tile when Maya heard the distinctive sound of Benjamin’s Volvo.
“He’s here,” she said.
“Dun-dun-dun,” sang Roland.
Ever the pragmatist, Eric shot Roland another look and stood up. “It’s going to be a tank like that one, right?” he asked Maya, pointing at the old tank. Unable to do any more damage, the old tank sat on a dry patch of floor.
“Yeah. It should be,” she answered.
“He’ll probably need some help.” Catching the hint, Roland stood as well and they headed for the door. Maya didn’t move, rooted to the floor by the impending intersection of her real life—Roland and Eric—with someone who still didn’t seem entirely real to her—Benjamin. Their meeting would be a confirmation that Benjamin wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
After a minute, the sounds of voices drifted in—the men had left the door wide open, cold air moving eagerly into the house—broken by laughter. Pushing herself to her feet, she made for the door.
Benjamin’s bright hair shone bronze in the yellow porch light. Eric had one end of the large aquarium and Benjamin had the other. Roland brought up the rear, carrying a large plastic bag labeled Cerrillos Pet Emporium.
Maya stepped aside as they entered and closed the door after them.
Roland shoved the bag in her face. “He got plants. Real plants. I guess he doesn’t know what you do to plants?”
Maneuvering the aquarium onto the cabinet, Benjamin gave her a curious look. “What do you do to plants?”
“She murders them,” Roland said cheerfully.
“I forget to water them,” Maya mumbled.
“No problem,” Benjamin said. “These are for the aquarium.”
“Maybe Delilah has a green thumb—fin,” Eric said. “What’d you get?”
“Oh, no, here we go,” Roland said with a chuckle as Benjamin and Eric started discussing aquatic plant life. Maya smiled and turned for the kitchen to make sure Delilah was still all right.
“It can’t be that bad,” Benjamin was saying to Roland when she returned.
“It’s worse. She’s killed silk plants. Oh, and there was the Christmas tree incident.”
“Christmas tree?” Benjamin, who was bent over scooping gravel from the old aquarium to the new, grinned at her, dark eyes warm with playful mirth.
“All Christmas trees lose their needles,” Maya protested, joining the men in transferring the contents of the old aquarium to the new.
“Not all at once,” Eric said, rubbing a hand over his shiny head. “And that was a fresh tree. You’re a veggie murderer.”
“So if these plants die, I’m an accomplice?” Benjamin said.
“Exactly,” Eric said.
An hour passed, Delilah was in her new home and everyone was taking a well-deserved break. Eric and Roland were telling another “Maya snuffs a houseplant” story and Benjamin was an entirely too willing audience, but Maya couldn’t bring herself to be irritated. Especially since every time the man smiled at her, a pleasant jolt of attraction moved through her.
Benjamin sat on the banco, before the unlit fireplace, long legs stretch out and crossed at the ankles, a beer in hand. Equipped with a glass of water, Roland had made himself at home, taking the big, overstuffed easy chair and sliding it into recline position. Like Benjamin, Eric had a beer and he leaned back into the couch. Maya, curled up in the far corner of her couch, a cup of cocoa in hand, was cocooned in a chocolate buzz and the warmth of good company.
Good company. The conversation and laughter felt like that of familiar old friends, as opposed to old friends and one peculiar, possibly insane interloper. Somehow the topic had shifted to Eric’s business and Benjamin was showing a polite interest in landscaping and things green while Roland protested, “The only good plants are in salad.”
If Benjamin had any negative feelings about the two men’s relationship, he hid them well. He must have known. Neither Roland nor Eric was flamboyantly gay, but a person would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to recognize that they were a couple. Maya sipped her cocoa, frowning at the memory of Daniel, who never seemed comfortable around her best friend and his partner and who always had another commitment when she planned an event including the men.
“So why does it take so long?” she heard Benjamin say and realized the topic had changed again.
“It’s a gay thing,” Roland said with a suggestion of bitterness.
“No,” Eric said. “It’s just an adoption thing. All adoptions take time.”
“Too bad you can’t have your own,” Benjamin said. “The kid would be bald and would change its own diaper.” There was a moment of breathless silence and Benjamin tried to soften the joke with a smile.
Then Eric burst o
ut laughing. “Good one.”
“I resemble that remark,” Roland said, feigning pique.
Eric looked at Benjamin and then at Maya. “Maya. It’s been an adventure, but I think it’s time me and Roland headed home.”
Roland yawned. “I just got comfortable.”
Eric gave his partner a pointed stare. “I really think we should get on home.”
Roland blinked and then his dark eyes widened. “Oh. Right. Home.”
The men went through the usual ritual of handshaking and “Nice to meet yous,” Eric collected the vacuum and its components and soon Maya and Benjamin were standing on her doorstep, waving goodbye to Eric’s departing pickup truck. The truck turned a corner and she shut the door, acutely aware of Benjamin’s presence.
He shoved his hands in his jeans’ front pockets. “If I’m not mistaken, your friends wanted to leave us alone.”
Maya forced a light laugh. “Yeah. That’s funny. Usually Eric behaves like an overprotective brother—worse than my actual brother.” Her laughter grew a pitch higher. “You’ve got Eric’s seal of approval.” As she had spoken, she’d been avoiding his eyes. When she looked at his face, she saw a mixture of emotion, befuddled amusement, like his expression in the drawing at the diner, and a touch of underlying sadness.
“How much do I owe you for the tank and the plants?” She started to turn away to go get her purse, but he stopped her with fingers lightly curled around her arm.
“Nothing.”
The great thing about radiant floor heating was how well it worked. The house was warm, almost too warm, and yet Benjamin’s grasp felt red-hot, the heat moving slowly up her arm as though she were frozen.
“It had to be expensive, a tank that size, and the plants—”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t think I need money where I’m going.” His voice was tight, and she could see indecision warring on his face.
She understood his indecision. She was pretty sure the same debate raging in her mind was going on in his head. The attraction between them wasn’t just powerful, it was as effortless as breathing. It had simmered patiently between them, waiting…