Something Like Winter (54 page)

Chapter
Thirty-four

The Woodlands had been many
things to Tim over the years. At first the city had been a chance
at a new beginning, a fresh start after the events in Kansas that
now seemed small and distant. Like a sapling, Tim had sprung up out
of the dirt only to find his pot was too small and cramped, that he
wasn’t getting enough sun or water. Of course the metaphor fell
apart right there, since the city wasn’t to blame for his stunted
growth. Tim took full responsibility for that now, but in his mind,
The Woodlands remained a place of failed potential.

Not anymore. In the
passenger seat next to him was Ben, and like a magic totem, Tim was
rushing him back to the past to banish those clouds and bring back
the sun. Together they could rewrite history, he felt. Of course it
would help if Ben stopped looking at him like he was a total
stranger.

“
So you’ll be running the
gallery?” he was asking.

“
Yeah.” Tim checked his
blind spot and cruised over to the fast lane. “I about flipped when
I started working for the foundation. After all those years of
having nothing to do, it felt good to have a purpose. Most
applicants come around in the spring or summer. Besides that
there’s only a fundraiser in the fall, so I still have a lot of
free time.”

“
How terrible,” Ben
interjected.

Tim grinned. “I know,
right? My life’s so hard. Anyway, I figure the gallery will keep my
hands full the rest of the year by giving me a chance to help out
other artists.” He glanced over, hoping to see Ben impressed, but
instead that puzzled expression had resurfaced. “Am I not making
sense?”

“
You are,” Ben said,
turning his attention to the road. “That’s how speech therapy makes
me feel.”

“
You’re still doing
that?”

“
Yup. Sometimes I wish it
was full-time, since it’s a lot more fulfilling than theater work.
Being on stage is more self-indulgent than anything. An excuse to
sing for an audience.”

“
I wouldn’t mind hearing
you sing again,” Tim said.

“
The show coming up is just
straight-up acting,” Ben said, not taking the hint. “I don’t like
doing those as much, but Brian always gets Allison to talk me into
them. I need the extra money anyway.”

Tim resisted the urge to
offer him everything he had. He would give it, if Ben asked, but he
also worried about making everything feel weird. Instead he nodded
at the highway sign. “Ten more miles and we’re there!”

They exchanged looks that
both said the same thing: Is this really a good idea? Then they
laughed and scrutinized their surroundings, pointing out familiar
landmarks as they entered the city limits.

“
Where to first?” Tim
asked. “Want to see your parents?”

Ben shook his head. “Not
this time. I can only imagine all the questions they’ll
have.”

Tim had a few himself. They
hadn’t shared any kisses today or any other sign that they were
more than old friends. Their reunion might have been fueled by
dwindling flames of nostalgia and nothing else. For Ben at least.
What Tim felt was so much more.

“
I know where we’ll go,” he
said, turning down the street.

“
No!” Ben laughed. “You’ve
got to be kidding.”

“
Nope!” Tim pulled into the
high school parking lot. “Memory lane!”

“
More like death row,” Ben
said. “We’re not going in there, are we?”

“
Why not? If anyone stops
us, we’ll just say we’re picking up our kid.”

“
We’re not that old!
Besides, what’s the point? It’s not like you and I have many
memories here. Not together, at least.”

“
True.” Tim considered the
school. “Maybe I want to walk down the hallway with you, hand in
hand, like I should have done a long time ago.”

Ben’s eyes softened. “You
don’t have to do this.”

“
I want to.”

Their hands didn’t touch
until they pushed open one of the doors and stepped into an empty
hallway. Ben was right. The place didn’t hold a lot of memories for
them. Tim had only attended this school his junior year, but the
universal smell made it feel like every school he’d been in. Dingy
lockers, cheap carpet, textbooks, and a touch of desperation. That
was the smell of institutionalized education.

Tim reached over, the side
of his hand bumping Ben’s, whose fingers responded by tangling up
with his own. “So, can I walk you to class?” Tim said.

Ben laughed nervously. “We
can leave now.”

“
Come on, just down to the
end of the hall and back. We’ll be gone before anyone
notices.”

That seemed to be the case
until they had started heading back. Then the bell rang. As much as
Tim said he wanted to do this, when countless teenagers swarmed
into the hall around him, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.
Not really because of the gay thing—even though they heard plenty
of laughs already—but because the students made him feel old while
reminding him of how awkward those school days had been.

He scanned the crowd as
they walked, looking for the new Stacy Shelly or Bryce Hunter. And
of course they received plenty of stares. Girls giggled and guys
glared, but a few students they passed looked at them with a mad
sort of hope in their eyes. Tim grinned at one of them, nudging Ben
after they walked past him. Ben nodded, having seen him
too.

“
Oh man!” Tim said,
laughing with nervous relief when they were outside again. “Could
you imagine two guys walking down the hall holding hands when we
were in school? I would have freaked.”

“
I would have loved it!”
Ben said. “Besides, it’s not so unusual anymore. One of my
coworkers at the hospital, her son came out when he was fourteen
and took his boyfriend to homecoming.”

“
Seriously?”

“
The times, they are a
changin’!”

“
Would you have gone to
prom with me?” Tim asked.

Ben snorted. “Are you
kidding? I would have followed you to the moon.”

Their next destination was
even less a part of their history than the school was. Tim had
wanted to revisit the past with Ben, but he hadn’t realized until
now how much of their relationship was restricted to their teenage
bedrooms, hidden away from the world. Tim drove to their old
neighborhood, parking near one of the bike trail entrances a few
blocks over from either of their houses.

“
Go for a walk with me?” he
said.

Ben was quiet as they
strolled into the trees, but he took Tim’s hand, gripping it
tighter when they reached a small man-made lake. Walking around it,
they took another path that led to a small playground. The scene
had changed, the jungle gym and swings replaced by new equipment,
but neither had forgotten what had happened here. The night the
police had nearly caught them, quite literally, with their pants
down.

“
Want to pick up where we
left off?” Tim teased, but when he looked over, Ben wasn’t smiling.
So maybe this wasn’t the best idea. They did have memories outside
of their homes, but few of them were happy. Tim checked his watch.
His parents would still be at work, probably. The den, or his old
bedroom, those were happy places. “Come on. Let’s get out of
here.”

During the walk, Ben’s
posture relaxed a little. “It’s crazy. How many times do you think
I snuck over to your house at night?”

“
Hm.” Tim pretended to do
some mental calculations. “Once, maybe twice.”

“
More like one or two
hundred times. I used to hide behind a tree whenever I saw a car
coming, like the cops were doing a sweep for forbidden lovers. It
was always so quiet, especially in the winter when all you would
hear was the wind or a few lonely leaves skittering along. Just me
and the stars above, on my way to Tim Wyman’s house.”

“
And then you’d crawl into
my bed with frozen hands,” Tim said. “You remember my technique for
getting them warmed up?”

Ben grinned sheepishly.
“These days I can drive anywhere I want without anyone to stop me.
I guess the lack of freedom back then made even the simplest thing
seem special.”

“
It was more than just
that,” Tim said. “Sneak over to my house in Austin one night and
I’ll prove it.” He stopped on the sidewalk as they reached a
driveway and stared. “There it is. Home, sweet home. It looks the
same.”

“
You sound surprised,” Ben
said.

“
It’s been a
while.”

How long exactly? More than
a year, that was certain. Two, maybe? His mother called
occasionally, and so did Tim, sometimes, but they didn’t want him
to share much about his life. Anytime he mentioned a guy, even just
Marcello, she got quiet, no doubt wondering if that person meant
something more to him.

At least the locks hadn’t
been changed. Tim entered the house with Ben in tow, and after a
few murmured jokes, they toured the downstairs in silence. Like in
a museum, they walked carefully, not touching any of the exhibits,
stopping and staring in silence at some of the same places. The
corner of the living room where the Christmas tree had been. The
dining room table where they had their candlelight dinner, or the
den, which had been their whole world together for the first few
weeks. Then they crept up the stairs as if it were another of
winter’s midnights, but behind the bedroom door was now just an
anonymous guestroom. Only the dresser against the wall was the
same.

“
Too bad,” Ben said,
sitting on the edge of the bed. “I was hoping you had obsessive
parents that keep the room a time capsule after their kid
leaves.”

“
It’s not like I died,” Tim
said, even though sometimes it felt that way. He sat on the bed
next to Ben. Their backs were to the window that looked out on the
back lawn, for which he was grateful. “Ever wish you had a time
machine?”

“
For what?” Ben laughed,
already guessing the answer. “What would you do, travel back here
and lock teenage Tim in the closet?”

“
Yup. Literally this time.
Then I’d wait in bed like the wolf in Little Red Riding
Hood.”

“
I think teenage Ben would
notice you were older.”

Tim leaned against him.
“But would he complain? That’s the question.”

“
I don’t remember you being
this weird,” Ben said, changing subjects.

“
Yeah, well, that’s what
living the life of a secluded millionaire will do to
you.”

Ben’s response was cut
short by the sound of the garage door rumbling. Tim
tensed.

“
Want to sneak out?” Ben
offered.

“
No. Come on. Let’s go meet
them.”

His parents were already in
the kitchen when they entered. His father yelped in shock, and his
mother pressed a palm to her chest, but when they recognized him
they relaxed. Somewhat.

“
¡Gordito!
What are you doing here? Your car isn’t out
front!”

“
I just thought I would
stop by.” His parents’ full attention was already focused on Ben.
“Uh, this is Ben. Ben Bentley. Do you remember him? He had dinner
with us when—”

Tim’s father tossed his car
keys on the kitchen table. “I’m going up to my office.”

“
Why?” Tim said, stepping
in his way. “It’s been ages since you saw me, and you’re going to
walk away just because I brought my boyfriend along?
Seriously?”

His father scowled. “This
is my house, young man, and I’ll do as I please!”

Tim stepped aside, sparing
a glance for Ben who had moved out of the way. He had his arms
crossed defensively over his chest and appeared exceedingly
uncomfortable. This made Tim all the more angry. His parents could
at least act civil.

“
Why do you even care?” Tim
shouted after him. “You never wanted a kid, so why do you care that
I turned out different than you expected? You couldn’t give a shit
about anything good I’ve ever done, but you’ve always been there to
make me feel bad when I do wrong.”

His father spun around,
face red with barely contained rage. “Maybe if you weren’t such a
disappointment I would have cared more!”

“
What did you want me to
be?” Tim retorted. “Like you? Get a wife, run a boring business,
and treat my kids to icy silence? If that’s what I was supposed to
be, then I’m glad I disappoint you so much.” Tim glanced at his
mother. “And thanks for the few times a year you remembered to pay
attention to me. That was real generous of you.”

Tim headed for the door,
catching Ben’s eye to make sure he’d follow. Time to get out of
here. Tim couldn’t imagine ever coming back. On his way out of the
kitchen, he pushed past his father, wanting to shove him, knock him
up against the wall—anything to make him hurt half as much as he
did. But instead he kept moving, turning his back on
him.

Ben followed him through
the house, nearly running to keep up. Tim’s hand was on the front
door when a voice called after him.

“
¡Gordito!
”