Something Like Winter (30 page)

Tim grinned at him. “It’s a
deal.”

* * * * *

The doctor insisted on
keeping Tim another day, rambling on about aspiration pneumonia and
intravenous antibiotics to silence any protests. Apparently Tim had
sucked some nasty stuff into his lungs during the wreck—probably
the dirt and blood that also clogged his nose—and was lucky not to
have infected lungs drowning in pus, or something like that. Rather
than suffer more nauseating details, Tim agreed to
treatment.

Soon Tim was bored out of
his mind, especially after Eric left to stay at the cabin for the
night. Television, Tim’s only distraction, was turning his mind to
soup when Eric returned with a Mylar balloon tied to a teddy
bear.

“
This is embarrassing,” Tim
said, scowling at the bear but secretly loving it. He just couldn’t
imagine bringing it back to the frat house.

“
Well, maybe you’ll like
this better.” Eric handed him a book on Japanese sports cars. “I
also bought myself something to read.”

“
You don’t have to stick
around here all day,” Tim said, not meaning it.

“
What else am I going to
do?” Eric settled down into the chair by his bed. “I already
straightened up the cabin. Shame about the lasagna.”

“
Travis,” Tim said, happy
to shift the blame. “Sorry it went to waste.”

“
Not a problem. I spoke to
Robert, the owner of the cabin, and told him about the snowmobile.
Do you think you can give him a rough idea where you left
it?”

“
Sort of.” Tim’s face
flushed. “I’ll pay for everything. I still have some of Marcello’s
money left.”

“
It’ll be fine,” Eric
said.

“
How much does a snowmobile
cost?”

“
Oh, around eight thousand
I think.”

Tim let his head thump back
on the pillow. “Think I can still model with a big ugly scar
running down my arm?”

Eric chuckled. “I hope not.
Once was enough.”

“
True.”

They chatted for a while,
Tim happy for a sympathetic ear. Then they settled down like an old
married couple and read together. Tim flipped through his book, but
his eyes kept returning to the cover of Eric’s. The painting on the
front was of a woman sitting on a bed and looking out a window. The
subject matter wasn’t the most interesting, but the way daylight
flooded into the room made it exceptional.

“
What is that?” Tim asked,
setting down his book.

“
Edward Hopper,” Eric
replied. “You probably know the—”

“
Café painting, yeah. I
never really liked that one, but the painting on the front… Can I
see it?”

Eric handed him the book,
waiting patiently while Tim browsed. Inside were more paintings
like the one on the cover—simple, clean, and almost always
featuring light bathing a wall or pressing against the night’s
darkness. Tim lost himself in the book, embarrassed when he finally
came back to find Eric still watching him.

“
He’s good, isn’t
he?”

Tim laughed. “He’s
brilliant!”

“
I’d love to own one of his
paintings,” Eric said wistfully.

“
Why don’t you?”

“
Because they cost quite a
bit more than your average snowmobile.” Eric winked. “You really
like art, don’t you? Have you ever tried?”

“
Painting?” Tim licked his
lips. Why not? Without Eric, he might have croaked in that cabin
all miserable and alone. “Yeah. I paint.”

“
Really?” Eric sat up
straight. “Are you any good?”

Tim just
laughed.

“
Regardless, I’d like to
see,” Eric said. “If you don’t mind.”

Tim did mind. Sharing his
paintings was a huge deal to him, but he thought he could trust
Eric. “They’re all at my parents’ house. I haven’t painted in ages.
A frat house isn’t the most inspirational environment. And I’m sort
of private about the whole thing.”

“
Oh.”

Eric sounded disappointed,
so Tim was quick to add, “Next time I visit my folks, I’ll grab a
few of the less embarrassing ones to show you.”

“
That would be
nice.”

The nurse barged in to the
room with Tim’s lunch, and Eric headed to the cafeteria to fend for
himself. In the afternoon, the doctor came in and finally cleared
Tim for takeoff. Eric dialed a number on his cell phone and
conjured up some plane tickets to get them home that evening. Tim
felt even more in his debt, not that Eric seemed to expect the
slightest hint of gratitude for what he was doing. But Tim would
find a way to pay him back. If not financially, then
somehow.

Chapter
Eighteen

A new year always brought
change, and Tim suspected most of that would happen at the frat
house. Maybe that’s why he avoided returning to campus. He had only
shown up once at night, shortly after he and Eric had returned, to
pick up his car. It was there, no worse for wear. In fact, there
was no sign Travis had driven it at all, which Tim found
disappointing. A letter of some sort would have been nice, or maybe
a lonely rose on the passenger seat or dried tears on the steering
wheel. But there was nothing. Tim drove the car back to Eric’s
house, where he stayed in one of the guest rooms.

Life was good for that
solitary week. Eric cooked for him or took him out for dinner. In
between meals they hung out around the house and talked or went for
little walks in the neighborhood. Then New Year’s Eve came, with it
one of Eric’s famous parties, and the calm serenity was chased away
by drunken revelry.

This fantasy life of luxury
and wealth couldn’t go on forever. On the first of the year, Tim
made an appearance at the frat house. No one questioned where he
had been, since most of the brothers were still gone for the
holidays. When Tim entered his room, he wasn’t surprised to see
changes. His side was much the same, but the family photo was gone
from Travis’s nightstand, replaced by a basketball trophy. A number
of cardboard boxes were in various states of being
unpacked.

A tall redheaded guy named
Rick came in shortly afterwards. Tim had seen him around the house
before, but didn’t know much about him. They made small talk before
Tim wandered downstairs to hang out in the common room. A lot of
the guys were smoking pot to cure their hangovers. Tim ignored
them, sitting on the couch and staring blankly at the television
until Quentin plopped down next to him.

“
Hey, Little. Have a good
holiday?”

Tim nodded. “Not bad.
You?”

“
My sister’s a bitch and my
mom can’t cook. Same as every year.”

Tim laughed, but mostly
because he was expected to.

“
Did you see Rick is your
new roommate?”

“
Yeah,” Tim turned his
attention back to the television.

Quentin dug in his pocket
for his chewing tobacco. “Travis asked to be reassigned the second
he saw me. Looked sort of pissed.”

Tim shrugged. “I guess I
snore.”

“
Is that it? He wouldn’t
say.”

“
I don’t know. He’s so damn
quiet. It’ll be nice to have someone I can actually talk
to.”

“
Yeah,” Quentin said after
watching him a moment longer. “Travis is kind of reserved. I’m
surprised he made it through hazing. Hey, did you get any last
night?”

“
Just your mom,” Tim said,
laughing when Quentin slugged him. And just like that, the topic
had blown over. A little casual banter was all it took.

Life returned to normal
after that. Occasionally Tim saw Travis around the house, but they
managed never to be in the same room. It was back to going to
classes, getting ripped at parties, and hanging out with Eric on
quiet nights when he wouldn’t be missed. Tim passed the rest of the
winter this way, comfortable in the routine.

Until the day he saw
her.

Tim had come from his
boring Mechanics of Materials class, eager to get out into the
spring weather, when he noticed his shoe was untied. Someone walked
by him, singing to herself while he stooped and tied the lace, her
tune vaguely familiar. When he stood, he saw a tall black woman
further down the hall but didn’t think much about it until she
looked back. Then he froze.

Allison Cross.

She was older, naturally,
and even more beautiful. She could almost be a different woman, but
the way her eyes widened slightly before she turned away from him
gave her away.

“
Hey!” Tim chased after
her, nearly running to catch up. “Allison, wait!”

Allison stopped, looked up
at the heavens, and sighed. Then she turned around to face him,
cradling a couple books against her chest.

“
Hey!” he said, smiling at
her. The gesture wasn’t returned. “Long time no see.”

Allison nodded slowly.
“There’s a reason for that, isn’t there?”

“
Yeah,” Tim said, growing
serious. “How is he?”

“
Ben?” Allison looked smug.
“He’s great!”

“
That’s good,” Tim said. “I
mean, that’s what I hoped. Man, I can’t believe you go to school
here. Does Ben—”

“
Chicago,” Allison said,
anticipating the question. “Other side of the country. Very, very,
far away from here.”

“
Yeah, okay,” Tim said,
trying to laugh it off. “Don’t worry. It’s not like I’m going to
track him down and ruin his life again. He’s better off without
me.”

This earned him a little
sympathy. “There’s a music college up there,” Allison said in more
civil tones. “He’s still singing away with that beautiful voice of
his.”

Just the thought of Ben’s
voice made Tim’s heart ache. “What about you? I remember you
belting out a tune or two.”
That’s
what she had been singing under her breath. The
song she and Ben had performed together at the talent show, the one
with the lyrics designed to cut him up inside.

“
I still sing,” Allison
said, “but I don’t plan on making a career out of it. Well, it was
nice seeing you.”

“
Wait!” Tim hated how
desperate he sounded. “Did Ben ever… I mean, he found someone,
right?”

Allison chewed her bottom
lip. Normally her answers came fast and snappy. “He moved on,” she
said. “Eventually.”

But did Ben have someone
new? If he did, then surely Allison would have said something. “As
long as he’s okay. Too bad you guys don’t live closer together.
It’s hard to picture you being apart.”

Allison smiled, and this
time it wasn’t smug or sarcastic. “I still manage to see him
occasionally. On the holidays and such.”

“
That’s good. Well, tell
him I said ‘hi’ next time you talk.” Tim hesitated. “Do you think
that’s a good idea?”

“
Probably not.”

They laughed together,
exchanged a few more pleasantries, and went their separate ways.
When Tim left the building and walked outside, the birds were
singing and a breeze rustled his hair. He felt lighter than he had
in a long time. Benjamin Bentley, up in Chicago and taking the city
by storm! It had been so long since Tim had heard anything new
about Ben. The last few times he had seen him—well, none of them
had been exactly positive. But now he had something new to picture,
a happier ending for the greatest love of his life. Tim hopped in
his car and headed over to Eric’s, eager to tell him all about
it.

* * * * *

“
Allison Cross!” Tim said
for about the ninetieth time.

“
A very exciting
development,” Eric said. He’d already heard the whole story, Tim
retelling some parts of it twice. Eric had listened patiently, eyes
closed as he soaked up the sun next to the private pool behind the
house. The weather wasn’t warm enough for swimming, but being
outside felt good.

Tim resisted saying
Allison’s name aloud again. He’d already made her sound like a
celebrity. “It’s just that she’s connected to Ben,” he explained.
“Sometimes that whole year I had with him feels unreal, like a
story I convinced myself was true.”

Eric smiled. “But it
was
real, and there’s no
reason you can’t have that again.”

Tim shifted on the patio
chair. “With Ben?”

“
Why not? Have you thought
about contacting him? You know where he is now.”

“
Allison said he had moved
on.”

“
So have you. I’m pretty
sure you don’t cry yourself to sleep every night over Ben, and I
doubt he has a dart board with your photo on it.”

Tim frowned. “Yeah,
but
I
left
him
. Maybe he’s not angry
anymore, but I doubt he’s forgiven me. I mean, if Travis showed up
here out of the blue, I wouldn’t give him a second
chance.”

Eric opened his eyes and
considered him. “Don’t compare yourself to Travis. You might not
have been perfect, but you gave Ben a year of your life, and it was
more than just physical. That’s completely different than drunken
sex and a cold shoulder the next morning.”