Something Like Summer (21 page)

“
It’s your parents I had
in mind,” Ben said hesitantly. “I want to meet them.”

Tim snorted, but the amused
expression left his face when Ben failed to smile. “No
way.”

“
Fine, your car then.” Ben
slumped over onto his back. “Sign it over to me. Or dinner with
your parents, you decide.”

“
Why would you even want
to meet them?” Tim asked. “They’re just as old and boring as anyone
else’s parents.”

“
They’re a part of your
life, that’s why.”

“
No they
aren’t.”

“
They are!” Ben insisted.
“You may not always see eye to eye with them, but they raised you,
and they know you better than anyone else in the world.”

“
You have no idea what
you’re talking about. My parents aren’t the same as
yours.”

“
How many times do I sneak
over a week?” Ben asked, changing his tactic.

“
I don’t know. Three
times?”

“
It’s inevitable that one
night I am going to run into your mom checking to make sure the
door is locked, or your dad getting a glass of water. It would be
nice if they recognized me so they don’t shoot me on
sight.”

Tim was silent and Ben let
him think. “Okay,” he said eventually. “Come over this weekend. You
can say ‘hi’ to them before we head out to Splashtown.”

“
Dinner,” Ben
persisted.

“
How am I supposed to
manage that?”

Ben smiled, enjoying his
victory. “You’ll think of something.”

* * * * *

Weeks went by before the
dinner took place. Tim complained that parents usually insisted on
meeting friends, and that reversing the request was weird.
Eventually, Mrs. Wyman cooked something large enough that Tim
hurriedly called Ben so he could show up “unexpectedly.” Everything
went according to plan. Tim answered the door and then asked his
parents, as casually as possible, if Ben could join them. His
parents agreed, even though they didn’t look particularly pleased
with the idea.

Ben, dressed as snazzy as
possible without appearing too formal, took his seat across from
Tim at the narrow dining room table. His feet accidentally brushed
against Tim’s leg, which recoiled defensively. Ben gave him the
most positive and reassuring look possible, before turning his
attention to Tim’s parents. Mrs. Wyman was even more beautiful than
he remembered. She was spry and energetic as she busied herself
about the table, attending to her role as hostess with great
seriousness.

Mr. Wyman sat rigid in his
chair as he watched his wife work. Much of Tim’s handsomeness came
from him, but the stoic demeanor was thankfully not something he
had inherited. With his grey hair and stillness, Tim’s father could
have been made of stone.

A plate of
chile rellenos
—battered
peppers stuffed with meat and cheese—was placed before Ben. He
“oohed” and “aahed” over the meal and thanked Tim’s mother
graciously. Her mouth relaxed into attractive lips that smiled in
appreciation. Mr. Wyman remained unimpressed, studying Ben evenly
before folding his hands. He led his family in prayer before they
ate. Ben was prepared for this. Tim had tutored him multiple times
on the ritual and what to say. Ben seamlessly intoned grace along
with the Wymans as if he had long since been a member of their
family.

There was no lull in
conversation. Ben had done too much research for there to be. He
started with Mexico City, Mrs. Wyman’s birthplace. After pouring
through encyclopedias for hours, he had learned it was nicknamed
the City of Palaces, that it was built by Aztecs in 1325, and
boasted more museums than any other city in the world. He worked
through these topics, claiming to have recently written a paper
about the city for history class. Mrs. Wyman became animated,
adding to his knowledge with great enthusiasm. Occasionally the
topic of religion came up, ninety percent of Mexico City being
Catholic, but Ben gently steered the conversation away every time
it did.

Next he turned his charms
on Mr. Wyman. This was much more difficult since the topic Ben had
chosen to use was football, something he knew nothing about. Tim
had coached him here too, teaching him the basics of the game
before moving onto specifics involving Mr. Wyman’s favorite team,
the Kansas City Chiefs. It would have been too blatant for Ben to
claim to like the same team, so he chose instead to playfully
attack a few of their players and games while defending the Dallas
Cowboys. Ben felt fake during his conversation with Mr. Wyman,
since he had absolutely no interest in sports, but Tim’s father
didn’t seem to pick up on his insincerity.

“
It is so nice to finally
meet one of Tim’s friends,” Mrs. Wyman said in perfect but
exotically accented English. “He’s been so protective of his social
life since Kansas.”

“
Not protective,” Tim
contradicted. “I just like going out instead of staying home. I’m
too old for sleepovers you know.”

If only they knew, Ben
thought merrily.

“
Do you know his other
friends? His girlfriend?” Mrs. Wyman asked.

Ben quickly wiped his mouth
with his napkin in order to cover the frown. Girlfriend? Her name
had better be a codename for him, like Benita, Benjamina, or
something along those lines.

“
Of course he knows
Krista,” Tim said, staring a hole into Ben’s head.

Krista Norman. Of course.
“She’s really pretty,” Ben forced himself to say. “Popular, too.”
He wasn’t happy with this deception, but he wasn’t about to let it
ruin the evening.

“
And what about you?” Mrs.
Wyman inquired with a smile. “A fair-haired boy like you must also
have a pretty girl.”

“
Well, actually,” Ben
began before his leg was kicked from under the table. He didn’t
spare a glance for Tim as he kicked him back. If he wanted to stay
in the closet then that was his problem, but Ben wasn’t going back
in for anyone. “I have a boyfriend.”

Mrs. Wyman smiled and shook
her head as if she had misheard, while Mr. Wyman cleared his throat
nervously.

“
He’s really great,” Ben
continued, filling in the silence. “Goes to the same school as us,
too.” He knew what to do next. He had to make it a nonissue. If he
tried to explain who he was, or even defend his sexuality, they
would instantly perceive it as weakness. He wanted to be as casual
as if he had just declared his own eye color or favorite song. Time
for the next topic.

“
If I could find a
restaurant around here that served authentic Mexican food like
this,” Ben said, gesturing to his nearly empty plate, “I would eat
there everyday. Everyone else would, too. Such a place would make a
fortune! Maybe you should open one.”

Mrs. Wyman accepted his
compliment, but it was clear that she was still confused. Ben
distracted her by asking about her own career. Within minutes, the
cloud formed by the revelation of his orientation had blown out the
window like so much smoke. By the end of the meal, Ben was sure he
had both of Tim’s parents eating out of his hand.

When they left for the
movies as planned, there was a marked change in Tim’s behavior. He
was more optimistic than ever before, having seen that the gay
issue hadn’t caused his parents’ heads to explode. He even held
Ben’s hand in the theater, something he was usually too nervous to
do.

This was, Ben felt, the
beginning of something grand. Once home, he enjoyed fantasies of
both families being present and accepting at the wedding. He wanted
nothing more than to share these hopeful visions with Tim, but they
had decided to spend the night apart. It wouldn’t do to be caught
sleeping together and destroy the delicate bridge that had been
built.

Early the next morning,
before Ben had even poured his ritual bowl of cereal, Tim was at
his front door. Ben greeted him with a victorious smile, but the
gesture wasn’t mirrored in Tim’s face.

“
They don’t want me to see
you anymore,” he stated bluntly.

“
What?” Ben made him
repeat the sentence, not believing what he had heard. “What
happened? I thought they liked me?”

“
They did, Benjamin, but
Jesus Christ, they’re Catholic!” Tim’s voice was rising,
threatening to attract attention, so Ben stepped outside and closed
the door. “They aren’t going to ignore their religion just because
you can bullshit about sports or geography!”

“
Maybe they just need some
time to--”

“
To what? Call the Pope
and ask him to change the rules for you?” Tim scowled at the
concrete walkway. “I told you this would happen. I told you they
would get in the way. How could I have been so stupid?”

“
Nothing is in our way!”
Ben said, trying to calm Tim but beginning to feel panicked
himself. “So they aren’t going to invite me to dinner again. Big
deal! We just go about things like we did before.”

“
Do we?” Tim demanded
angrily. “We just keep screwing around until the day they find us
together? Jesus!”

“
I think we can definitely
leave him out of this,” Ben joked.

“
This isn’t funny! My
parents are going to be looking at me differently now. Questioning
why their son is hanging around with someone like you!” If Tim
noticed Ben’s startled reaction, it didn’t stop him. “Gee, honey,”
he said, mimicking Mr. Wyman’s voice, “how come our son brought a
gay guy to dinner and not his girlfriend? Hm. I fucking
wonder!”

“
Stop it,” Ben said,
desperately suppressing his own anger.

“
That’s exactly what we
should do!” Tim spat before storming away.

Ben wanted to chase after
him, but not to comfort him. He wanted to knock him to the ground
and beat some sense into him. Instead he screamed, “Don’t ever come
back!” and stormed back into the house and up to his room, where
his anger turned to tears.

Late that night, when the
moon was high and the lawnmowers and luxury cars had all fallen
silent, Ben crept through the streets and into Tim’s room.
Wordlessly, he took off his clothes and slipped into the sheets.
They made love, violently at first, expressing their frustration
with each other and the world before they slowed and their touches
became gentle and apologetic.

* * * * *

Normally, with only four
weeks left in the school year, Ben would be counting the days, but
he and his friends were too preoccupied. For Ben it was preparing
for the talent show. Allison had dragged Ben to Ronnie’s garage one
day, where Ebony and Ivory played their song. The music was
perfect, but Leon’s stoner voice didn’t do it justice. Ben and
Allison were soon sharing the mic. They had found their
duet.

Tim’s attention was focused
mostly on his baseball games. The next two games could bring the
school’s team to the state finals. Ben managed to attend some of
these events, watching Tim from the bleachers while pretending to
be the wife of a famous Major League player. Or maybe the mistress
of one, considering that their relationship was shrouded in
secrecy.

A week had sped by since
they had last seen each other. Saturday night, after one of Tim’s
games and a practice session with Allison, they agreed to meet
halfway between their homes. The Wymans were hosting a dinner party
and there was never much privacy at the Bentley’s, so Ben and Tim
decided to enjoy the warm night together. The air was electric with
energy as spring slowly morphed into summer, the cicadas buzzing
their hypnotic song in the woods where Ben waited.

They had an anniversary
coming up, Ben realized. Almost a year ago Ben had first seen Tim
jogging along the path that circled the small lake. They had come
so far together since then. Tim had gone from being a masturbatory
fantasy to the most important person in Ben’s life. He couldn’t
help but wonder how much further they would go together. Prom in
two weeks? College? An apartment, marriage, kids?

The sound of thumping feet
echoed out of the past and into reality. He turned to see Tim
running up to him. For one brief moment, Ben felt as if the past
year had been nothing but a dream until Tim grabbed him and broke
the spell by kissing him.

“
Damn, I’m horny!” Tim
said with a grin.

“
Good game then?” Ben
asked.

“
The best!” Tim filled him
in on the details as they strolled together. Ben nodded and gave
the appropriate responses, even though he still didn’t fully
understand the logistics of the game.

“
Want to sit down here?”
Ben asked rhetorically, kicking at pile of charred wood that had
previously been a bench. There had been a number of small arson
incidents recently. So far nothing as serious as a house burning
down, but the reoccurring fires were enough to make most of the
area’s homeowners nervous.

“
I think the playground is
still intact,” Tim suggested. “Are you a swinger?”

“
You know it,
baby!”

They were heading for the
swings when Tim grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. He
moved in close, pressing himself against Ben. The hardness in his
pants made his intentions crystal clear.