Page 41 of Something Like Summer
There was no winning withher, so in the end Ben promised to stay for Christmas dinner, whichwasn’t so hard considering it took place in the early afternoon. Asit turned out, he was glad he stayed. Aside from being there toreceive even more presents from his relatives, he also was providedwith enough leftovers to keep him and Tim fed for a week. In fact,it was too much to carry when Tim’s present was added to theequation, and Ben had to accept a ride from his dad just to make itthere.
Tim was in a solemn moodwhen he arrived, which was no surprise considering the situation.Ben stowed away the food before kicking the house into gear. He putChristmas music on the stereo and sang to it while walking aroundthe house and turning on all the decorative lights. He added hispresent to the multitude under the soulless, department storetree.
Not that the tree wasn’tattractive, but like all store-front trees, it lacked a certainpersonal touch. There weren’t any homemade ornaments and it wasactually standing up straight. Who‘d ever heard of a straightChristmas tree? All the lights were the same color too, and as muchas he liked blue, they lacked the multicolored gaudiness that wasexpected this time of year.
The holiday cheer that Benwas spreading like mad finally infected Tim, who regained his usualsmile. He slow danced with Ben to the mellow parts of Bing Crosby’ssong,Happy Holiday, and laughed as Ben did a jig to the up-tempo segment in themiddle. A plate of leftovers, which Tim devoured ravenously,further soothed his spirits. Watching him chow down on ham andmashed potatoes faster than even Wilford could manage was oddlyendearing.
“You ready for somepresents?” Ben asked once he had finished.
“Oh, yeah!” Tim answeredenthusiastically.
They adjourned to theliving room where they started pulling out package after package.All of them were for Tim, which was quite shocking. Ben had assumedthat they were for the whole family. Obviously the Wymans weretrying to compensate for leaving their son alone.
“The haul was huge likethis last time, too,” Tim explained as he unwrapped a new stereo.“At least it shows they feel guilty.”
The better part of an hourpassed before all of his gifts were opened, leaving only twopresents under the tree: the one from Ben and another small boxwrapped in snowflake themed wrapping paper. Tim handed this to Bensomewhat shyly.
“You shouldn’t have,” Benlied, accepting the present with curiosity. As he unwrapped it, awonderful scent reached his nose. He knew it was designer colognebefore he could read the label.
“I almost bought that formyself,” Tim explained. “The smell drives me wild, but you cannever really smell it once you spray it on yourself. It’s kind ofcool having a boyfriend that way. Now I can smell it all thetime.”
“Oh, I like it!” Ben saidas he sprayed some on.
Tim leaned over andinhaled, growling with pleasure. He attacked Ben, playing bitinghis neck before kissing him.
“Hey, cut it out!” Benlaughed. “You have to open yours now!”
“Later,” Timinsisted.
“No, now!” Ben pushed himaway with a smile. “We have the whole night to snuggle up and staywarm.”
“Yeah, right,” Tim said ashe righted himself and reached for his gift. “We could practicallygo for a walk in shorts and flip-flops. Texas winters are crazy.Don’t you ever miss the snow?”
“Sometimes,” Ben admitted.“We visited my uncle in Minnesota once and--” He trailed off as thepaper came off Tim’s gift. He was nervous about what he hadchosen.
There were two topics thatwere forbidden with Tim. Sexuality was one. The most Ben could gethim to say was that he was bisexual, but he had only said it onceto appease Ben and put an end to a heated argument. The other taboosubject was his painting. Tim had never openly admitted this hobbyof his and met any inquiries about it with dead silence. That madeBen’s choice of present this year somewhat risky.
Tim examined the wooden boxfull of paintbrushes. They were very expensive, the best that Bencould afford. Tim’s face was guarded, but his eyes were impressed.Next he looked at the four tubes of paint: red, green, white, andice blue.
“Christmas colors,” Benexplained.
Tim looked up at him, hiseyes questioning.
“You don’t have to sayanything,” Ben said. “I just want you to know that I love thepainting you gave me and I think you are exceptionallytalented.”
He swallowed, waiting forsome reaction from Tim, who remained very still. Ben was on theverge of apologizing when the silence broke.
“These arereallygood,” Tim said,holding up the brushes. “I’ll do my best with them.”
Ben gave an exaggeratedsigh of relief.
“You are a very persistentperson, Benjamin Bentley.” Tim said. “Pretty soon I won’t have anysecrets left.”
“You mean there’smore?”
“Maybe. Hey, do you want aglass of wine?”
“Um, okay.” Ben had neveractually had wine before. Aside from some cheap booze that tastedlike spiked Kool-Aid, he hadn’t done much drinking atall.
