Something Like Winter (44 page)

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Authors: Jay Bell

Tags: #romance, #love, #coming of age, #gay, #relationships, #gay romance, #gay fiction, #mm romance, #gay love, #gay relationships, #queer fiction, #gay adult romance, #something like summer

BOOK: Something Like Winter
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Goodbye,
Benjamin.

 

Chapter
Twenty-seven

 


Lovely,
Gordito!
The whole
ceremony was just lovely. We’re so proud of you!”

Tim’s mother raised a wine
glass, prompting Tim and his father to do the same. The restaurant
was full of other fresh graduates and their parents, celebrating
after the big event. Tim clinked glasses and smiled, even though he
wasn’t in the most festive mood. Not since Ben’s name was called at
the ceremony. Tim had half-stood, catching his last glimpse of Ben
before he resumed the idyllic life that Tim had
interrupted.


Now what?” his father said
with a knowing smirk. “That’s what you’re wondering. I remember the
feeling, worrying about job prospects or if you graduated with the
right degree.”


Yeah, exactly.” Somehow
Tim managed to hide his sarcasm.


You’ll find your way, son.
You could always work for my company. We could use a new sales rep
in Austin.”

Ella beamed at the idea.
“That would keep you on your feet until you find the right
architectural firm.”

Tim nearly laughed.
Architecture wasn’t his future. It was merely a convenient answer
when people asked what he planned to do. “Actually, I’ll probably
take a break for a while. Maybe travel or focus on my
painting.”


You can’t make a living on
your art,” his father said.

That was for sure, but they
didn’t know about the money. Eric had left him enough that Tim
could live off the interest without touching the actual
inheritance, if he was careful. But his parents were clueless,
thinking he still lived at the frat house. They didn’t know a thing
about his real life. Or Eric.

He thought of Ben, of how
much secrecy had already cost him. That was Jace’s true advantage.
As cool and confident as Jace might be, Ben never would have left
Tim if he hadn’t clung so desperately to his secrets. But he had,
which allowed Jace to slip in and take his place, unhindered by any
neurotic hang-ups. Now it felt no matter how hard he ran that he
would never catch up to Jace. Or Ben.

Maybe it was time that
changed.


I have my own place now,”
Tim said as dinner wore down. “Come see it.”


We have a three-hour
drive,” his father replied.


Just stop by,” Tim
pressed. “Mom wants to see it, don’t you?”


We have time,
Thomas.”


Very well.”

Tim led the way, alone in
his car as they headed up to West Lake Hills. He could only imagine
what his parents were thinking as they drove through a neighborhood
of homes worth astronomically more than their own. They must have
thought he was joking when he pulled into the driveway.


What is this?” Thomas
said, shutting the car door. “Is this a frat house?”


It’s my house,” Tim said,
walking to the front door so his parents had to follow. An awkward
silence accompanied them until Tim opened the door, Chinchilla
scampering around in greeting. Then Tim started speaking. “There
was this guy. Eric. He was also a brother in Alpha Theta Sigma,
although a little before your time, Dad. Eric Conroy. Did you know
him?”

His father shook his head,
and Tim led his parents to the living room. Once seated, he told
them the truth. All the important parts, at least. He didn’t tell
them about Travis, but he did say Eric had once picked him up when
he was down, and possibly saved his life. He told them everything
wonderful about Eric, even if it didn’t help ease their confusion,
and then he told them how he had died.

His father was incredulous.
“And he left all this to you?”


Yes.”


I don’t see why he would,”
his mother said.


Because we cared about
each other.”

Thomas cleared his throat.
“If you have all this money, then why have we been paying your
tuition?”


I’ll pay you back, I don’t
care. Just listen to me. Eric was a good person, and we weren’t
more than friends, but we loved each other. The thing you need to
know about Eric, even though it shouldn’t matter, is that he was
gay.”


Oh, Tim,” his mother said
as if Tim had been conned or coerced.


I wasn’t with him like
that.”


Of course you weren’t!”
his father nearly shouted. “But he was obviously deluded enough to
think he could buy you.”

Tim clamped down on his
anger. “Do you remember Ben? From back in high school. He had
dinner with us that one night.”

His mother nodded, and when
she spoke, her voice was quiet. “They called his name at the
graduation ceremony.” She still remembered him, and that confirmed
that she had always wondered.


As you know, he’s gay too,
and he and Eric are about the best people I’ve ever met in my life.
And I know you’re not going to want to hear this, Mom, but the
Bible is wrong. Or maybe people have changed it or twisted the
words, because there’s nothing wrong or sinful about being
gay.”

His mother’s eyes were
brimming with tears, his father’s scowl creating dark crevices
between his eyebrows. They knew. Tim had said too much for them not
to know, so he might as well get it over with. “I loved Eric, and I
love Ben. I’ve already lost them both, but if I’m lucky, I’ll find
someone else. But it’s not going to be a woman.”


That’s enough!” Thomas
stood, grabbing his wife’s arm and pulling her to her feet. Then he
let go of her and swung a finger in Tim’s direction. “You better
get your head straight, young man! We didn’t raise you so you could
play these sick games.”


You barely raised me at
all!” Tim shouted. “Don’t act like I’ve disappointed you when
you’ve never given a shit about me. You’re worried about what your
friends or coworkers will think? Fine! Tell them I’m married to
some bimbo with big tits. I don’t care.”


You watch your mouth!” His
father came at him and slapped at him like he was a child. Tim
raised his arms in defense, the idea that his father wanted to hit
him far worse than the actual blows.


Thomas! Stop
it!”

The assault ceased. Ella
hung on to her husband, who was huffing like a bull.


I’m sorry, Mom. About what
I said. But not what I am.” Her eyes pleaded with him to take it
all back, but he couldn’t. “I’ve always wanted to be a bigger part
of your life, but now I guess the roles are reversed. It’s up to
you. If you want to be a part of my life, you’ll have to accept who
I am. You always said God has a plan for me. Well, this is
it.”


We’re leaving.” His father
pulled free from his wife and stormed out of the room.

Tim’s mother lingered for a
moment, a trail of tears glistening on her cheeks. Why was he so
good at hurting people?

She hugged him, but he knew
better than to get his hopes up. “I’ll pray for you,” she said, a
hand on each side of his face. “You pray too. I don’t want you to
go to Hell.”

Sure, why not? Even though
he hadn’t prayed for a very long time, Tim would, but not for
forgiveness. Instead he would pray for God to make his parents
finally come to their senses. When they were gone, Tim put
Chinchilla on her leash and went for a walk, shedding the anger and
disappointment. Long ago he had feared what he would lose by coming
out, but his parents had given him so little that there was
virtually nothing they could take away.

The men in his life had
done the opposite. Eric had given him guidance and a home, not just
a house. Ben had given him love—and although he might never know
it, tonight Ben had given him a reason to be brave. And he had made
sure Tim wouldn’t be lonely again.


If people want
unconditional love, all they need is a dog.”

Chinchilla stopped sniffing
the ground long enough to look at him, but when she saw he wasn’t
talking about a treat, she went back to her hunt for the perfect
place to potty. Feeling oddly content, Tim continued his long
stroll through the night.

 

__________

Part Four:

Austin, 2004

__________

 

Chapter
Twenty-eight

 

Time flies when you’re
having fun… unless that’s all you’re having. Then time starts to
drag. Tim had spent the last year doing exactly what he wanted.
First he took a month to fix up the house, doing little repair jobs
he had been putting off or rearranging rooms to give the place a
fresh feel. He had a fleeting affair with photography, but the
medium felt too easy, so he returned to his most loyal of lovers
and painted the nights away. Then he discovered a dog park, which
he often took Chinchilla to. Every time he went, women there
eagerly flirted with him, as if all that guy-seeking magazine
advice had finally paid off. Tim enjoyed it regardless, a small
collection of phone numbers piling up in a kitchen
drawer.

Tiring of Austin, he put
Chinchilla in the car and drove down to Mexico City to see his
grandmother. He spent the better part of a month there, living with
her and brushing up on his Spanish. Of course she had heard the
news. When he tried broaching the subject, she stuck out her chin
stubbornly and said, “God judges. I don’t.”

The subject of sexuality
was closed to her, but his grandma still treated him like a prince,
heaping love and affection on him. He was tempted to sell the house
and move close to her permanently, but the American in him soon
became homesick for familiar sights and the easy comfort of
English, so he headed back. He made a few more excursions like
this, but without a friendly face awaiting him at each destination,
the trips seemed empty and aimless, a feeling that followed him
home from his last journey.

Tim could do whatever he
wanted, but what he really wanted was something to do. A real
purpose, not just goals he created and accomplished for himself.
Maybe a career would help, even if he didn’t need the
money.

These thoughts were on his
mind one night as he headed to Oilcan Harry’s. Drinking beer at a
gay bar usually meant not getting much thinking done. Before long,
someone would come along to chat him up. Tim enjoyed these
conversations, and the attention of course, although it was rare
these days that anything more happened.

On his way into the bar, he
noticed a figure hunched against the wall outside, hoodie up and
pulled tight around a lean frame. Occasionally some hustler would
be hanging around outside, looking for money, but tonight it was
raining. Why didn’t the guy just go inside? Unless he was underage.
Scoping him out as casually as possible, Tim was taken aback when
the hooded head raised. The face was beautiful, framed by blonde
hair that came to a point at each side of the chin. Eyes as blue as
any sky in Heaven locked on to his, pleading for help even though
the delicate lips didn’t open to ask.

Tim gave a friendly nod,
those angel eyes widening in hope, but Tim looked away and pushed
into the bar. An explosion of dance music and cigarette smoke
greeted him. He only made it a few steps before he stopped,
pinching the bridge of his nose. What could he do? He wasn’t
interested in escorts. Occasionally Tim attended Marcello’s
parties, which were full of handsome faces, but he never felt
comfortable getting close to those guys. Any of them might be
models, a profession he respected, but there was an equal chance of
them belonging to Marcello’s elite escort service. The hotter the
guys were, the more Tim became suspicious and kept his
distance.

The guy outside was
handsome enough to be a hustler, but he couldn’t have been working
the streets for long. Even indestructible youth showed signs of
wear from such a life. But what else could he be doing out there so
late at night? A young guy, looking for his first experience? But
those eyes had been desperate, not horny. Growling at the universe
in general, Tim turned around and headed back out the
door.


What are you doing here?”
he demanded.

The guy’s head whipped up,
expression guarded. “You bounce here or something?”


No, I’m not the bouncer.”
Tim cocked his head. “I just don’t get why you’re out here in the
rain when you could be inside.”

The blue eyes blinked. “I’m
not old enough.”


Never stopped me.” But Tim
had looked older—had surely been older—when he had first come here.
“Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

The hooded head shook. “I
don’t have anywhere at all.” The guy’s stomach grumbled loudly. If
this was a scam, it was a damn good one.


Come on,” Tim said. “I’ll
buy you dinner.”


I don’t need charity.” But
the lack of conviction in his voice said he did.


Fine, then I’ll take you
on a date. Happy?”

The difference was small,
but it was enough to get the kid following him to the car. “What’s
your name?”


Ryan. You?”


Tim. And don’t worry, I’m
not some pervert.”

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