Something Like Winter (31 page)

“
I guess so.” Tim thought
about it. “What if Gabriel came back into your life and said he
regretted leaving you?”

Eric’s cheeks flushed, but
he smiled. “Don’t think I haven’t fantasized about that. I’m sure
Ben has too.”

“
Yeah?”

“
I can almost guarantee
it.”

This made Tim entertain
several fantasies of his own. He had never dreamed he’d have
another chance with Ben. Lightning didn’t strike twice, did
it?

“
A lot has changed,” Eric
prompted.

Tim snorted. “Hardly. I’m
still in the closet. It’s just that I’ve gotten really comfortable
with the idea of being there. Besides, Chicago isn’t exactly
close.”

“
A thousand miles is
nothing in the name of—” Eric’s voice caught as he started
coughing, a fit that lasted almost five minutes. This had been
happening more and more recently. Tim was getting worried, but Eric
still hadn’t confided in him. “Damn smoker’s cough,” he said once
he could breathe again.

“
What brand?” Tim
asked.

“
Sorry?”

“
The brand you smoked.
Which was your favorite?”

“
Oh.” Eric looked
surprised. “Uh, Camels.”

“
Yeah, but what
kind?”

Eric grasped for an answer
before he looked at Tim anew. “Why does it matter?”

Tim just stared in
response.

Eric sighed. “You know,
don’t you?”

Tim swallowed and
nodded.

“
For how long?”

“
Since before Christmas. I
kept waiting for you to tell me.”

“
Marcello?”

“
Not really. I bumped into
your hospice nurse on the street.”

“
And you didn’t run her
over?” Eric took a sip of his iced tea, leaning back in the patio
chair. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings by not telling you. For
what it’s worth, I don’t like anyone to know.”

“
Why?”

“
Because people look at you
differently. You become frail in their eyes, and anything you do
imperfectly they interpret as a sign that death is creeping closer.
Instead of talking about themselves, people are always asking how
you’re doing, but they do so with such finality, just waiting for
you to confirm that you’re one foot in the grave.”

Tim shook his head. “I
haven’t treated you differently.”

Eric was quiet for a
moment. “No. You haven’t.”

“
Then don’t hide it from
me, okay?”

Eric nodded before
laughing. “Looks like I’m just an old closet case
myself.”

“
Two peas in a pod,” Tim
said, nudging him. Then he grew serious. “So what are we dealing
with exactly? Lung cancer?”

Eric nodded.

“
My aunt’s ex-husband had
that, and he pulled through after chemo. Last I heard he was doing
fine.”

Eric remained
quiet.

“
It’s worth a shot,
right?”

“
Chemo is an option,” Eric
said grudgingly.

“
Whatever keeps you here,”
Tim said. “Don’t you dare give up on me because I’d be bored to
tears without you. I told you that my new roommate collects
basketball cards. Not baseball,
basketball.
Who’s ever heard of such
a thing? Any time I’m in the room he reads the backs of them to
me.”

Eric managed a
smile.

“
You’re my favorite
person,” Tim said. “Stick around, okay?”

Eric nodded, but Tim knew
it wasn’t as simple as making a promise. One thing he had learned
from being in the closet is that coming out happened slowly. Now
that Eric had confided in him, maybe he could convince him to do
more for his health, but he would have to play this
carefully.

* * * * *

Tim waited in the hallway,
shoulders and one foot pressed against the wall. The temptation to
talk to Allison again had been constant since their chance
encounter, but Tim avoided giving in. For one whole week, at least.
Today he had excused himself early from his Mechanics of Materials
class just to be sure he wouldn’t miss her. When Allison did show
up in the hall, she stopped in her tracks, wearing a deadpan
expression.

“
Buy you a coffee?” Tim
said, pushing off the wall and walking toward her.

“
I’m more of a cappuccino
girl.” Allison resumed walking.

Tim fell in step at her
side. “Okay. I’ll buy you one of those.”

“
No thanks.”

“
Can I walk you to your
next class?”

Allison kept her head high.
“I’m heading home.”

“
Then I’ll walk you
home.”

Allison cracked a smile.
“You can walk me to my car. Final offer.”

“
Sounds good.” Tim had gone
over the questions in his mind all week, trying to decide which was
the most crucial. The little details had him most curious. How did
Ben look these days? Was he still a terrible driver? Did he still
rub his nose when concentrating really hard? “Does he ever mention
me?”

Allison sighed. “For a
while you were all he talked about. Of course that was a long time
ago. How long has it been?”

“
Ninety-seven was when it
all fell apart. Man, that makes it three years this
summer.”

Even Allison looked
surprised. “Time just flows on by, doesn’t it?”

“
Yeah. Too fast for my
liking, sometimes.” Such as now. They had reached the exit door and
stepped outside to the parking lot. He prayed that Allison had
parked far away. “So you said Ben comes down to visit
sometimes?”

“
No.”

“
No?”

“
I mean no, I won’t tell
you when so you can see him.” Allison glanced over at him. “He
loved you, Tim. I mean, really
really
loved you. It took a long time
for him to get over you completely, but he has. Seeing you again
will just reopen old wounds, and I won’t help you hurt him like
that.”

“
I don’t want to hurt
him!”

Allison shrugged.
“Regardless, that’s what would happen.” She stopped at a car that
was a lot nicer than the junk heap she used to drive in high
school.

“
You don’t like me much, do
you?”

Allison considered him.
“You know what sucks? I used to. It took me a while at first. I was
sure you were just like the other guys Ben messed around with. They
would have their fun and ditch him as soon as he got too close or
they got girlfriends. But after everything you went through
together, I finally accepted it was going to be
different.”

“
It was,” Tim
said.

She nodded. “That’s right,
because you weren’t a horny straight boy who felt like
experimenting. You’re gay, which meant you could give Ben what he
needed. Then you got scared or lord knows what and threw it all
away. But before that, I liked you just fine.”

“
I fucked up,” Tim
admitted.

“
Yeah, and I honestly don’t
hold it against you anymore. Ben’s an amazing guy, and I bet losing
someone like that hurt pretty damn bad. You both paid for what
happened, which is a shame, because love shouldn’t have a price.”
Allison opened the car door. “The older I get, the more I realize
it always does.”

Tim stepped back, watching
her through the window. Allison offered a sympathetic smile before
starting the engine and driving away.

Chapter
Nineteen

Some ghosts haunt you for
life. The best you can do is make room on the couch and get used to
living with them.

That’s what Eric had said
before Tim made the drive back to The Woodlands. Here it was,
Spring Break, when most of his fraternity brothers were flocking to
the beaches for booze and babes. And Tim? He was on a familiar
street in a sleepy suburban neighborhood, standing across from a
house that once felt like home. Not the whole house. Just one room
on the second floor. Tim wanted nothing more than to knock on the
door, pat Wilford on the head when Ben answered, and trot up the
stairs to their special place.

In his mind, Ben was still
seventeen years old, skinny legs exposed from the knee down,
because of course it was summer. Whenever Tim pictured Ben, it was
always summer. He wondered, if by some twist of fate he knocked on
the door and Ben answered, if he would even be recognizable. Maybe
Ben had changed since high school, finally hitting a growth spurt
and taking on the features of a man. Would he still be impressed by
something as trivial as Tim’s muscles or marvel that he could
paint?

Remembering why he had
returned to The Woodlands, Tim sighed and walked down the street to
his car. Then he drove a few blocks to his parents’ house. He had
memories here too, so many secret nights in his bedroom, but Tim
had already muddied them in his senior year, tearing them apart and
fighting them to exhaustion. The memories at Ben’s house—they were
untouched, still pure in his mind.

“
¡Gordito!”

Tim’s hand slipped off the
knob as his mother opened the door. Smiling, she pulled him into a
hug. “Mom! I didn’t know you would be here.”

“
Of course,” she said as
she ushered him in. “You called to say you were coming.”

Just to let them know. He
didn’t expect them to wait for him. “Is Dad here?”

“
No, he had to work, but I
took the day off. Let me look at you!”

Tim basked in her
attention. She took him to the kitchen, where she began heating up
some leftover rice pilaf as a snack, promising to take him out to
eat for a real meal.

“
Then I thought we could go
shopping,” she said. “You could use some new clothes. Look how big
you are!”

She made this statement
like he was still growing inches taller every day. Tim smiled
anyway. He wasn’t expecting a welcome like this. Not by
far.

“
You eat. I’ll finish
getting ready.”

His mother already looked
fabulous, but Tim liked that she was getting dressed up for him. If
only every day could be like this. He finished the leftovers, then
put the plate in the sink and went upstairs to his old room. Little
had changed, aside from the clutter. He hadn’t packed much when he
left for Austin. Before leaving for college, Tim moved everything
from his studio to here, knowing his father would want the space
back. His paintings—and he had produced a lot of them that final
year—were everywhere, all positioned so the fronts couldn’t be
seen.

He flipped through them,
scoffing at those he found embarrassing and setting aside the few
he liked enough to show Eric. That familiar itch came back to him
when he touched canvas, smelled the long-dried paint. How had he
survived the last year and a half without this? Then again,
painting at the frat house seemed impossible, even if he had the
nerve to ask for studio space, so Tim dismissed the thought and
took the paintings he still liked down to the car.

When he came back in, his
mother was ready. The funny thing about parents was how easily they
fell back into old roles. Tim might as well have been twelve again.
His mother drove, then decided where they ate and where they
shopped. She even tried to pick out his clothes for him. Luckily
her taste wasn’t too different from his own, so Tim didn’t have to
assert himself much. In the afternoon they walked the mall, both
reluctant to call it quits, even though they had bought everything
they wanted.

“
Do you need cologne?” his
mother asked.

“
I have four bottles back
in Austin.”

“
Maybe you aren’t using
enough,” his mother said. “Women like a man who smells
good.”

He thought about telling
her, right then and there. What did he have to lose? She would cry,
but eventually she would get over it, he hoped. If not—well, he
would miss days like these, but they were far and few
between.

“
When am I going to get a
grandbaby?” Ella asked.

Tim laughed, mostly because
his parents had never been ready for kids. But then he supposed
grandkids might suit them better. Pick up the kids when they needed
a fix and send them home when they were tired of them. His stomach
sank. Of course she would be sad about that possibility flying out
the window. Adoption was still an option, but he wouldn’t do that
without a partner. For that matter, why should he come out when he
didn’t have anyone? What was there to gain?

“
We should probably head
home,” Tim said. “I want to drive back to Austin before it gets
late.”

“
You aren’t
staying?”

He shook his head. There
would be no point once his father got home and his mother’s
attention returned to him. Lucky bastard! Tim would love to have a
person like that in his life, someone he could rely on. Someone who
made him feel loved.

Then Tim realized that such
a person already existed.

* * * * *

“
It’s not about having
something to gain,” Eric said. He was sitting at the dining room
table, piles of mail and bills spread out on the wooden surface.
The house had an office, but Eric always seemed more comfortable in
an environment suited to food. “Coming out isn’t about convenience,
either. You do it so that others can love you.”