Something Like Spring (27 page)

Emma was holding his hand. She’d been holding it the entire trip, and despite the air conditioning keeping the SUV interior cool, the sweat from their palms had long ago mixed together into a bond Jason feared would be permanent. He knew everything about her already, because Emma liked to talk. Nearly fifteen years old, she loved playing football, had aspirations to start her own fashion label one day, and enjoyed croaking out show tunes in a voice devoid of melody. Despite being exceptionally odd, she was immensely likeable. Maybe it was the way she so easily filled what might have been an awkward silence, or perhaps it was the completely uninhibited way she conducted herself.

“Austin city limits!” she declared as they breezed by the sign. “You are going to
love
Uncle Ben. Isn’t that funny? Just like the rice guy! I wish Ben was black. How come we don’t have any black people in our family?”

“Maybe you can change that someday,” Greg answered from the driver seat, directly in front of Jason. “That’s why we no longer live in a small town where people marry their neighbors.”

“Literally,” Michelle chimed in from next to him.

“Not that I don’t love my hometown,” Greg said, “but there’s definitely a lot more culture in Houston. We moved there so you kids would get more exposure.”

“Nuh-uh!” Emma said. “We came to Texas because you were gay for Uncle Jace.”

Greg looked offended. “What?”

“It’s true,” Michelle said, laughing when her husband glared at her.

“Anyway,” Emma continued. “Uncle Ben is the best. He loves to sing. I’d even say he’s nearly as good as I am. He bought me a karaoke machine for my last birthday, and we sing the most incredible duets together.”

Greg snorted. “You know he wears ear plugs when you’re around, right?”

“He doesn’t,” Emma said, unabashed. “He’s the absolute nicest person in the world. Well, except for that time a kid at the playground called me fat and Ben started chasing him around and throwing rocks at his head.”

“It was a teenager, not a kid!” Michelle said quickly, turning around to explain. “And Ben was only throwing sand. I’m sure he was aiming low and didn’t mean to get any in the young man’s eyes.”

Emma smiled. “The guy had to go to the hospital.”

“Ben
did
apologize and pay for his medical expenses,” Michelle said.

Emma shook her head and mouthed the words, “He didn’t apologize.”

Jason laughed. “So what about this guy Ben lives with?”

“Uncle Tim?” Emma asked, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Wyman’s not your uncle,” Greg said from the front seat. “He’s the other woman.”

“Greg!” Michelle said warningly.

“What? The guy circled Ben like a vulture, just waiting for his chance to swoop in.”

Michelle shook her head. “I’ll never understand why you two don’t get along. If you ever bothered talking to him, you’d find out you have a lot in common.”

“The guy’s a jerk,” Greg said dismissively.

Emma rolled her eyes. “He’s just jealous because Uncle Tim is a stone-cold hottie.” When a pair of glaring eyes appeared in the rearview mirror, she quickly added, “You’re hotter, Daddy! Ain’t nobody better looking than you!” Then she turned back to Jason. “I’m sure you’ll get used to Uncle Tim.”

“Used to?” he asked, but Emma had noticed a billboard advertising a musical and started ranting about it. He half-paid attention while turning his attention to the scenery. From the highway, Austin didn’t look so different than Houston. As he watched, they seemed to cut straight through the city and leave it behind before the car finally drifted toward an exit ramp. This brought them to a smaller highway, and after a short jaunt they took one more exit and were…

Nowhere. That’s how it appeared to Jason, anyway. The road curved left and right through the trees, but he didn’t see what the bulldozers had been dodging when it was built because nothing noteworthy was around. Not that he didn’t appreciate nature, but this wasn’t what he expected when imagining his future home.

“Sure is nice out here,” Greg said with a wistful sigh. “There’s a great park not far—St. Edwards—that you should check out. You like to hike?”

Jason considered the scenery. “Usually when I walk, I have a destination in mind.”

“Give it a try anyway,” Greg said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

They approached an entrance to a housing development, hope rising in Jason’s chest, but no, this wasn’t it either. He began to wish his car hadn’t broken down as they continued to drive and drive. Would anything be within walking distance? Anything at all? Finally, the SUV slowed and turned down a tiny paved road barely big enough for the vehicle’s bulk. Jason strained to see their destination. After more weaving and winding, they arrived. The trees broke away, revealing cleared land not used for anything practical like crops or livestock. Just tall grass and the occasional tree waving in the light breeze.

“There’s Uncle Tim!” Emma said, pointing with her free hand.

Jason whipped his head around but was mostly too late. He saw a riding lawn mower, had an impression of deeply tanned skin and a flash of eyes like ice, but as he craned his neck, the cardboard boxes blocking the rear window made seeing more impossible.

“He’ll stay out there until we leave,” Greg complained. “He always pulls something like this.”

“Only when you’re here,” Emma said. “Gosh, I wonder why? Could it have something to do with the time—”

“That’s enough!” Michelle scolded. Then she looked over at Jason and gave him an encouraging nod. “Just like old times. I even brought your file.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, opened the glove box, and pulled it out. “I thought it would be a nice symbolic gesture. I’m giving it to you. I won’t need it anymore because you belong here.”

Jason smiled at her, but when she turned around again, he let himself look a lot less certain. He could see the house now, and it appeared nice enough. White and wide, with a slanted roof. He couldn’t tell anything about the interior or what sort of people lived there because the structure was fairly anonymous. Only the separate four-car garage off to one side suggested money, unless it was used to store something other than cars. The driveway formed a loop, running parallel to the front of the house and allowing them to stop near the front door.

Michelle unbuckled her seatbelt. “Ready?”

Jason nodded. Michelle and Greg got out of the car first, Jason wanting to do the same, but Emma still held on to his hand. He glanced over at her, noticing an expression of patient amusement.

“I can’t believe you let me hold your hand the entire drive,” she said.

Jason shrugged, feeling relieved when it was finally released and wondering if it would be rude to wipe it on his jeans.

Emma had no reservations about doing so. “Seriously. I was grossed out in the first ten minutes. I don’t even like guys.”

“Then why were you holding it?”

Emma laughed. “To see if you’d let me. You’re ridiculously nice. Uncle Ben is going to love you. There he is.”

Emma nodded out the window on his side, then turned to open her door. Jason glanced out the window, saw someone short and slight. His hair was brown and medium-length, as if he were growing it out, his concerned eyes the same hue. Ben was biting his lip after saying hello to Michelle. Then he noticed Jason through the car window. Their eyes locked and Ben’s teeth released his lip so he could smile. Not just a polite upturn of the mouth either. The smile Ben gave him was bright and full of warmth.

Jason reached for the door handle and stepped outside the SUV. He stood there awkwardly as Emma threw her arms around Ben’s neck. She was already as tall as he was. Or Ben was as short as her. Either way, Emma turned and gestured to Jason with one arm, as if presenting him. Ben took a step forward, held out his hand, and then dropped it again.

“Um. Welcome home,” he said, before looking uncertain. “You are staying, aren’t you? Or do you want to look around first, inspect the premises?” Ben’s eyes darted to Michelle for help. “Is there a checklist or something?”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help himself. When Ben heard this he smiled and offered his hand again. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted. “Let’s start with the basics. I’m Ben.”

The hand was cool when Jason took it, making him feel selfconscious about his own that was still roasting hot from Emma’s weird test. “Jason,” he said.

“Jason,” Ben repeated, a strange look coming over him. “Do you go by anything else? I mean, I’m really a Benjamin, but pretty much everyone just calls me Ben.”

“I’ve never had a nickname in my life,” he admitted.

“Oh,” Ben said, relaxing a little. “Okay. Jason it is.”

“He did have a nickname,” Michelle chimed in. “At the group home, the staff used to call him Jason the Gypsy because he couldn’t settle down.”

“Really?” Jason said, turning to her. “I never knew that!”

Michelle looked serene. “You never knew, because I would have twisted their heads off if they called you that directly.”

Jason grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. I sort of like how it sounds.”

“In that case…” Ben gestured to the front door. “Jason the Gypsy, come and see your new wagon!”

* * * * *

Past a simple narrow entryway—a closet for storage on one side and bathroom on the other—was a large open living room. Where tile ended, hardwood steps led down to a sunken space. At first glance, the large room appeared to be all there was. On the far wall, a series of tall windows revealed a backyard with a carpet of lush green grass, the view to the outside interrupted only by a fireplace. On the right, a couch faced a big-screen TV mounted on the wall. On the left were a couple of cozy reading chairs and bookshelves. Jason spun around slowly, confused at first that the entire house seemed to be a single room. Then he noticed the bookshelves built into opposite corners, which framed and partially hid two doorways.

Ben led them through the doorway on the left to the gleaming kitchen beyond. The floor was blue stone, the ceiling exposed wooden beams that matched the rustic table. The space was bathed in light from windows on the front and rear side of the house. Michelle sat at a long breakfast bar situated in front of the stove, while Emma opened a tall cabinet which hid a refrigerator inside. They had lost Greg already, but the sound of a television switching on from the living room gave away his position.

“—so help yourself to anything,” Ben was saying. “You don’t have to ask. Just treat the place like you own it.”

“And don’t worry,” Michelle said. “It’s not usually this clean.”

“True,” Ben admitted before chuckling. “We actually hired a maid, which was completely awkward. I kept following her around, trying to clean up embarrassing messes.”

“Kind of defeats the purpose,” Emma said, opening a can of soda.

“That’s what Tim kept saying,” Ben said. “Ah-ah-ah! Use a coaster!”

Emma’s eyes widened before she laughed. “Almost had me there.”

Ben grinned at her, then glanced around. “That’s it for this floor. I guess we skipped the bathroom by the entryway. Uh… Do you want to see your room?”

Jason glanced at Michelle for permission.

“You’re on your own,” she said. “I’m your friend, not your caseworker.”

“Oh, right.” Jason’s cheeks grew warm. “Old habits die hard.”

Ben led him across the living room to the other doorway, the sounds of explosions accompanying them as Greg lost himself in a movie. Beyond this door was a carpeted stairway, the noise of the television fading as they climbed. The upper floor was carpeted too, making Jason wonder if he should have taken off his shoes, especially since Ben was barefoot.

“Bathroom,” Ben said, reaching in to turn on the light and standing aside. “I figure this one will be yours. I didn’t know if you used bar soap or body wash or even one of those loofah sponge things, so I kind of bought everything. Same deal with electric toothbrushes versus normal ones. The entire bathroom is stuffed full of my little impulse shopping spree, so you’ll have to pick what you want and get rid of the rest to make room.”

“Actually,” Jason said, “I brought my own stuff.”

Ben winced. “Of course you did! Sorry. This is all super new to me. Rather than call Michelle every five seconds and ask a question, I tried to prepare for everything. Everything ever.”

“It’s fine!” Jason assured him. “I’ll use all of it. Nothing will go to waste. I just feel bad you spent so much money on me. When I have a job, I’ll pay you back.”

“It’s a gift,” Ben said dismissively, shutting the light off again. “Don’t worry about it. What’s next? The door here leads to Tim’s studio. You can go in if you like. Just make sure to close the door after you so nothing gets disturbed. We want to build him a separate studio on the property and make this a guest room. I don’t suppose you’re a carpenter?”

“Never swung a hammer in my life,” Jason admitted.

“Me neither,” Ben said. “Tim and I sleep at the very end of the hall there, the room on the left is our office if you need to use the computers, and your room is right over here.”

Jason braced himself. If the bathroom had been overflowing with things he didn’t need, he could only imagine what Ben had done with the bedroom. He was surprised, then, to discover how sparse everything was. The room held a queen-sized bed and two side tables … and that was it. Even the down comforter cover was a neutral white.

“I figured you’d want to decorate it your own way,” Ben said. “Here.”

From one of the side tables, he fetched a small stack of plastic cards and handed them to Jason. Flipping through a couple, he recognized the names of major retailers, all of which sold furniture, accessories, or even electronics.

“Gift certificates?” Jason asked. Then he held them back out. “I can’t. Really. I appreciate it, but I’m not here for a handout.”

“In that case, rent is six hundred a month and it’s due tomorrow,” Ben said with a straight face. Then he smiled. “Listen, when it comes to finances, we’re doing really well. At least Tim is. I’m still mostly broke and always have been, so I understand where you’re coming from. Being on your own can be rough. Jace and I had our own house, and after he died, I was always late on payments and the bank kept threatening foreclosure. Had things played out a little differently, I’d be in your situation. Since I’m not, I’m more than happy to give you a new start. I don’t want to be your sugar daddy, and I don’t want to make you feel like a charity case. I just want to help, and if that means I get to go shopping with you and have some fun, well, it’s a win-win situation.”