Page 51 of When Ben Loved Jace
Tim manages something close to a smile. “I wish there’d been a different way of getting there, but I’m so freaking glad we met!”
“That’s what this story is really about,” Eric says, picking up another taco. “Let’s continue there.”
“All right,” Tim says with a nod. “Well, every year the fraternity would send a couple of guys to Eric’s house, usually with some loaded tip for getting him to donate like, ‘Be sure to tell him that we named the gazebo in his honor’ or whatever.”
“I would always insist they add a golden plaque,” Eric interjects with good humor.
“You weren’t laughing about it the day me and Travis showed up.”
“No, that’s true.” Eric’s mouth becomes a flat line. “I was in a foul mood.”
“Travis was my roommate at the fraternity,” Tim says, chewing his bottom lip a moment while staring at me. “We were uh… I don’t know how to describe it anymore.”
“Involved,”Eric suggests.
“Yeah.”
I think of the country boy I saw on Tim’s phone and know it must be him.
“We didn’t get set up before coming out here,” Tim continues. “I think our frat leader needed the money pretty bad that year. So we thought it was a normal visit with just another alumni. Eric invited us in, and we started talking art, because I couldn’t believe the stuff he had hanging on the walls here. He hasamazingtaste.”
“How kind,” Eric says. “I was very impressed by your knowledge.”
“Thanks. But when the subject of money came up, Eric gave us an earful. And it wasn’t a subtle version of the story like you just heard.”
“I wanted them to know I wasn’t ashamed of being a gay man,” Eric explains, “and that knocking on my door each year to mock me would never change that.”
“I thought of you,” Tim says, glancing at me before he swallows. “How proud you always were. The way Eric stood up for himself that day was badass. Travis didn’t take it so well. He figured the frat brothers were on to us, and that’s why we were sent out here. So he went running off, and Eric was totally confused. So I told him the truth. About me and Travis. I guess I wanted to make him feel a little better about all the shit he’d been put through, like the world was somehow better now.”
“I was moved,” Eric admits. “I cut him a check, making him wait while I did so, when all he wanted was to chase after his friend.”
“I was driving,” Tim says with a shrug. “I knew Travis wouldn’t get far.”
“What happened then?” I ask, surprised by the way my heart is racing.
Tim’s brow creases. “When we got back that night, the leader of the fraternity made a big deal out of us getting money from Eric. He said some really nasty stuff that’s not worth repeating. It really pissed me off. I snuck into the office that night and took the check back, so I could give it to Eric. We got to talking when I did. The rest is history.”
Tim’s face creases before he turns his head away. There’s clearly more to the story. I haven’t seen him look sohurt in a very long time, and just like the old days, I want to take the pain away. I’m not sure what happened. Only that Travis must have been the one to break his heart.
“Who wants more wine?” Tim asks suddenly, standing to top off our glasses.
“You know,” Eric says after studying him a moment, “you’ve really outdone yourself. You got the meat just right.”
“Yeah?” Tim asks, cautiously optimistic.
“Yeah,” I chime in. “And to think, all that time, I should have been the one spread out on the couch whileyoucooked forme.”
“Hey, I did have a jacked-up ankle,” Tim says, his tone playful, “becauseof you.”
“I always wanted to know,” Eric says, “and please forgive me for asking this, but love makes fools of us all… Was it truly an accident?”
I’m more than willing to engage in some self-deprecation to build up Tim again. The rest of the meal is much lighter in tone, thanks to my sacrifice, but I don’t have to make anything up. I was ridiculously obsessed with him, right from the very beginning, but even my stalking had its limits. I never wanted him to get hurt. Even after it all fell apart.
Eric breaks out a dessert that he’d made earlier, further banishing our sorrows, because there isn’t a hole in anyone’s heart that cheesecake can’t fill. Once we’ve finished stuffing ourselves, I insist on helping with the dishes, needing to burn off a few calories. The work is easy. Between the high-powered sprayer attached to the sink and a dishwasher big enough to pull a car into, we get it done in no time.
“I need to take Chinchilla out back to go potty,” Tim says. “Wanna come with me?”
If only.
