by Riley Knight
He really hadn’t had much use for Spider-Man in his life, but he had to admit, the guy had a cool, distinctive costume. Did he have a new movie out or something? This storefront had a whole display of him, bright red with black webbing wherever he looked.
Maybe Spider-Man wasn’t that bad after all.
It was just an impulse, but he went in and bought a few things for his little brother. Another notebook, a binder, pencils, he tried to stay practical, but the guy should have some things that reminded him of his hero, right? The walls of his room looked too bare, he decided, so a few posters couldn’t go wrong. Although he couldn’t quite help himself and he grabbed one of the X-Men, too. The kid had to learn some taste somewhere, right?
Then, he saw it. A collection of comic books that had been collected into one big graphic novel, and who was on the cover but Spider-Man himself. Ben didn’t buy comics, he hadn’t in years and years, but what sold him on this one was that it had Wolverine, usually a member of the X-Men, in the group along with Spider-Man.
It was pretty much the best of both worlds. Who didn’t like Wolverine? Ben grinned to himself and guiltily added the book to the pile. Sammy would have a birthday someday, right? And this would be the perfect present.
“Thanks,” he told the comic book store guy, who gave him a bored roll of his eyes and went right back to his phone and seemed to be all of about twelve. Ben shrugged, collected his bag of goodies, and then froze as he glanced out the window and saw something which he most definitely had not been expecting.
It actually took him a split second to recognize the man, who he had only seen once, but when he made the connection, when he saw that it was Isaac’s father, the man who had cruelly kicked him out, a haze of blood red fell over his eyes and his free hand, the one not clutching the plastic bag, clenched into a fist.
Already, Ben couldn’t even imagine kicking Sammy out, and Sammy was his brother, not his son. Ben hadn’t even really wanted Sammy around, though the idea had grown on him quickly and he knew that he would be upset now if it didn’t happen.
So how the hell could this man kick his own flesh and blood out the door? How could he do that to someone he was supposed to care for? Ben just didn’t get it, and he found himself moving, pushing open the clear glass door and walking out.
He had some things to say to the good pastor.
Once outside, though, he froze in place and the cold which gripped his body felt like he had been brought to Antarctica in the middle of the winter, not Texas as it edged toward the fiery heat of summer. It was a warm afternoon, but Ben felt the chill gripping him, chilling his blood, freeing his joints, making it impossible to move.
Isaac’s father hadn’t seen him, even though he had stopped on the sidewalk and was facing his companion so that Ben could see their profiles. As he watched, Isaac’s father, the happily married family man, an apparently devout, ethically strong man, leaned in and kissed the young woman he was with.
It most definitely was not his wife. Ben had only seen these people once, and he had only gotten a split second glance of the woman, but she was much older, closer to the pastor’s age. This woman was young. If she was out of her teenage years, it was only just.
And he recognized her, he thought. Living so close to the church, Ben saw people coming and going for various events, and there weren’t so many people in town that Ben didn’t know most of the people, if only by sight. Oh, he kept to himself, because he was more than aware that the bar which he was running was not going to be to the taste of many of the towns more conservative element, but he had picked things up.
This woman, this girl, who currently had the pastor’s fingers slipping through her soft, mouse brown hair, was a member of his congregation. And Ben might not be an expert on women, but her belly was rounded in what he was willing to bet was an early pregnancy.
All of the bones seemed to go out of his legs, and Ben had to lean against the side of the comic book shop as he watched the two going at it. He was watching Isaac’s father kiss a woman who wasn’t his wife, a woman who was far too young for him, and … there was just so much wrong with this that he couldn’t even deal with it. All thoughts of confrontation fled his mind, like a flock of startled pigeons. Yes, that was what his mind was right then. Scared birds.
Snorting softly at the flight of fancy, Ben watched as the man put his arm around the girl’s waist, and he shook his head in denial as he saw them both walk off.
Did he tell Isaac?
On the one hand, what would it do? What could Isaac do about it? Was there any point? But on the other, shouldn’t Isaac have the opportunity to at least know, to make an educated decision about what he should do? Ben certainly couldn’t decide for himself what he should do, and if he told anyone in town, he was pretty sure that they wouldn’t believe him.
Though give it a few more weeks, and no amount of loose clothing was going to be able to hide her state. How many people knew already? How many more secrets were hiding in this seemingly idyllic small town?
Ben had come out ready for a fight, but instead, he found himself staggering away on legs that still didn’t feel quite right. With a groan of relief, he fell into the soft, padded seat of his car, then rested his head against the steering wheel.
It would be so much easier just to pretend that he had never seen that. After all, no one could ever accuse him of knowing. He’d stopped by the comic book shop just on a random instinct. If not for Spider-Man, he would have driven right by, and probably missed them entirely.
With a groan, Ben gripped his face, rubbing at his temples, trying to pull it all together. Trying to make his thoughts come forward in any sort of cohesive order. To tell or not to tell?
If it were him, though, he would want to know. Isaac still saw his father as family, and Ben knew that he cared about the man. He didn’t have to understand it to know it was true.
He would leave it up to Isaac to decide what to do with it. It would be easier to lie, or rather, not even lie, just hold back the truth, to tell a lie of omission. Easier to pretend, even to himself, that he hadn’t seen a pastor sin in so many ways. Ben didn’t have to be a bible expert to know that.
But Isaac deserved to know. He deserved to have the truth. It wasn’t at all fair that it had to be Ben who broke it to him, but sometimes, life wasn’t fair. Ask Robbie or Isaac, or poor Sammy, for that matter.
It was good to have the decision made, and Ben kicked the car into gear and peeled off. His thoughts were grim, and he wasn’t looking forward to this at all, but at least he’d made a decision.
He just hoped it was the right one. Doubts prickled at the back of his head. Maybe this whole thing had been just a one-time indiscretion, only who was he kidding? The way the girl had pressed against him, the tiny swell of her stomach as her loose clothes were pulled tight, told him all that he needed to know about whether this was a one-time thing or not.
No, he had to tell Isaac, no matter how nervous it made him. No matter how worried he was that Isaac wouldn’t believe him, or maybe, just maybe, it would be worse for Isaac to believe every word of it and to see the destruction in his eyes as his world came tumbling down around him.
Isaac thought his father was a righteous man, and it was Ben’s job to do his best to change that. And it was going to hurt the man that Ben …
… Loved. There, he had finally thought it. He loved Isaac, and that was why he had to tell him everything he had just seen.
EIGHTEEN
Having the kitchen to himself was weird. Isaac had been helping his mother to cook for years, but he’d never been in charge of it all himself. This was just one more way that he was finding that he was going to have to grow up.
But the lasagna was in the oven, at least. With a soft, rueful laugh, Isaac put his hands on his hips as he looked around at the mess he had made of the small kitchen. It seemed that there was tomato sauce and cheese all over everything, and he shook his head as he started to get to work cleaning it up.
Still, even if he’d made a mess, the lasagna had come out right. He had done it, and it seemed to him to be just barely possible that he would make it after all. He didn’t have a job, and he didn’t really even have a place to live, but those things didn’t seem like insurmountable hurdles anymore because he could make a lasagna.
When he looked at it that way, it didn’t seem quite as bad, and Isaac grabbed a sponge and got to work. Ben should be home soon, and it would probably be best if Isaac didn’t have the place a complete disaster area when he got here.
Only it was too late, he realized, as he heard the door open behind him. Gasping, he rinsed off the sponge, which was caked in the red sauce, and tackled the stovetop with a sort of manic energy.
“Don’t look!” he demanded, as he darted around the tiny kitchen, trying desperately to get as much of it cleaned up as he could in the short amount of time it would take Ben to walk in from the front door. “Don’t look, don’t look!” He chanted it, almost like a sort of mantra.
“Isaac,” Ben’s deep growl of a voice came from behind him, and Isaac winced as he turned to face him and saw the very serious look on that face. Ben was upset. Isaac could tell by the way the muscles in his jaw clenched, by the deep furrow between his eyebrows.
“I’ll clean it up, I promise,” Isaac told him. “I just got a little carried away.” Ben seemed more upset than he had even imagined. Well, Isaac had pretty much trashed his kitchen. Ben wasn’t a neat freak, but his house wasn’t a pigpen, either. And hadn’t his mother told him many times that it was important to keep a clean house? That cleanliness was next to Godliness?
“Isaac, hold still for a sec, would you? I have to tell you something.” Ben’s lips were turned down in a frown, and he looked far more gravely serious than he usually did. Whatever this was, Isaac had a sudden flash of insight that it was more than just the messy kitchen.
“Is it Sammy? Did we … did you not get him?” Isaac had to stop doing that, thinking of Sammy as a part of his life. It just kept slipping in there, both in his thoughts and his words, but that was something that he was going to have to control.
“No. I mean, that’s not what … Sammy is still probably coming here. I got furniture and stuff for him. It’s not that.” Ben approached him, took the messy sponge from his fingers, and tossed it into the sink. He led him over to the chair, and Isaac looked at Ben with something like terror fogging in at the edges of his vision.
Was Ben going to leave him? Was that even possible, since Isaac wasn’t sure that there was a them to leave? Had he done something wrong, other than the kitchen, which he couldn’t remember?
Ben had just said that Isaac was his boyfriend, though. Still, even Isaac knew it was early days, and most relationships didn’t last that long, and there was the age difference, and …
His thoughts threatened to spiral out of control, and he reined them in sharply and squared his shoulders as he looked at Ben. If he was about to be dumped for the very first time, then he was going to do it with his head up. So he let his gaze meet Ben’s, and he refused to look away, no matter how terrifying this was.
What would he do without Ben? It had been such a short time, but already, he didn’t know.
“I saw your father when I was in Austin today,” Ben finally spoke, and Isaac blinked, briefly confused. Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been that. He hadn’t even been thinking about his father, and that had been so very liberating.
“Are you sure?” Isaac asked, his confusion deepening when he saw Ben nod slightly. “It might have been someone else who looked like him. He doesn’t like to be in big cities.”
That was why they had never lived in one because where there were that many people, sin and corruption could get a greater toehold. Or so his parents had always told him. They had traveled through cities, but they never stayed for very long.
“Isaac, we’re not even at the part that’s a big deal yet,” Ben told him, a hint of amusement in his voice but worry shining clear in his eyes. “So maybe just shut up for a second so that I can tell you, okay?”
Deeply confused, Isaac nodded but tried to keep his mouth firmly shut while Ben spoke again. Already, it seemed so weird to him. Why would his father be in a city?
“Look, babe, the guy wasn’t alone,” Ben finally said. “And he wasn’t with your mom, either.” Immediately, other options came to Isaac’s mind. He could have been with a member of the congregation, providing support. He could have been performing charity in some way. But he kept his lips firmly shut, just watching Ben.
“He was with this woman. Girl. She looked young, and I think I recognized her. I’m pretty sure she’s still a teenager. He kissed her.”
If Ben had actually punched him in the stomach, Isaac wasn’t sure that he could be more stunned. And once that sort of comfortable numbness faded, he wanted it back, because it hurt to have it taken away.
There was no question about him not believing Ben. There might be a reason that Ben would lie to him about this but if there was, Isaac couldn’t bring it to mind. And Isaac didn’t see any lie in Ben’s eyes, just concern, and worry, and all for Isaac.
Still, it felt rather as though someone had taken a length of wood and walloped him as hard as they could in the stomach. Isaac could barely breathe. The sense of betrayal ripped through him, tearing down curtains in his mind that he hadn’t even known were there.
Family was everything. Hadn’t his parents told him that over and over again? Hadn’t they impressed upon him, very thoroughly, that for every member of the family, it was important, no, crucial, to behave as though a single unit? Wasn’t that a large part of why Isaac had been taught to be so obedient, even from a young age?
Tears stung at his eyes as he lurched to his feet, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t breathe like he had to get out of there. Maybe for a lot of people, it wouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but for Isaac, it was like he’d suddenly realized that it was all a lie.
That his father could do such a thing to his mother, that was what really got to him. The betrayal of her trust and love in her husband seemed to fit just a little bit too well from his betrayal of Isaac, the way he had been able to make himself simply lock the door to his son and deny him entrance without even talking to him about it. The sneaking around with a woman outside of his marriage worked with that pattern.
But that wasn’t the man that Isaac had always thought his father was. Or was it more accurate to say that it wasn’t the man that Isaac’s father had told Isaac that he was?
“Isaac!” Ben stood up, too, and Isaac blindly shook his head and held out an imploring hand to stop Ben.
“I just need to get some air,” he admitted, and he did. There was a restless energy surging through his blood, maybe an urge to go confront his father on this, to tell his mother, to demand that his father be held accountable.
Even so, he knew that he shouldn’t be doing anything like that without some actual thought on the matter. But he had to do something with the pressure boiling, building inside of him, he had to vent it somehow, or else it would explode.
It would probably be better to be alone, and his eyes begged Ben to understand that.
“Okay,” Ben said, after a long, considering pause, and that one word took Isaac off guard all over again. Ben was his family now, too, and he couldn’t even imagine what his mother or his father would have done if he’d asked them just to let him go out for a walk at night. His mother might have actually fainted. “Just hold on a second.”
Ben’s fingers delved into his pocket, and he pulled out something which gleamed even in the low light. He tossed the jangling objects over, and Isaac’s fingers snatched them instinctively. Keys. Ben was giving him his keys.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” Ben promised, and for a moment, Isaac couldn’t even see past the smeary blur of his unshed tears. Did Ben have any idea what that meant to Isaac, after having been kicked out and locked out, to be able to come back in when he wan
ted?
Stumbling a little, Isaac went over to Ben, cupped his face, and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. He looked into those worried green eyes for a moment and then whispered “Thank you,” before turning, keys firmly in hand, and walking out the door.
What he was going to do with the information that he’d been given, he had no idea. His mother should know, he supposed, but how would he even get to her to tell her? What words would he use, to let her know that her marriage was not what she thought it was?
Isaac walked into the cool night air, which felt like a blessing on his burning cheeks. He gulped air deep into his lungs and let the movement of his body, legs and arms and torso, all moving together as he took his first step onto cracked concrete and then his next.
It felt good to walk, his mind racing along with his feet until he was running. Not going anywhere in particular, just going.
His poor mother. And him, too. And the poor girl, whoever she was, who was helping his father to sin like this.
What a mess, and what was he to do about any of it?
NINETEEN
“Damn it,” Ben groaned, dumping the sponge in the sink and looking around him, barely seeing the gleaming kitchen. He had cleaned up every drop of tomato sauce, and he’d even rescued the lasagna from the oven before it burned. The whole house, actually, was clean and tidy, and Ben regretted it because now he had nothing to do.
Nothing but think about how he’d let an obviously very distressed young man walk by himself out into the night.
He’d almost refused to let Isaac go, or, more likely, gone along with him. But Isaac had been pretty clear, he thought, about wanting to be alone. And there was very little crime in a town like this, very little activity at night at all, other than around the bar. Isaac was almost as safe there as he was in here, only maybe more so because while he’d been here, Isaac had looked like he might explode.
