by Jay Bell
Jason whipped his head around but was mostly too late. He saw a riding lawn mower, had an impression of deeply tanned skin and a flash of eyes like ice, but as he craned his neck, the cardboard boxes blocking the rear window made seeing more impossible.
“He’ll stay out there until we leave,” Greg complained. “He always pulls something like this.”
“Only when you’re here,” Emma said. “Gosh, I wonder why? Could it have something to do with the time—”
“That’s enough!” Michelle scolded. Then she looked over at Jason and gave him an encouraging nod. “Just like old times. I even brought your file.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded, opened the glove box, and pulled it out. “I thought it would be a nice symbolic gesture. I’m giving it to you. I won’t need it anymore because you belong here.”
Jason smiled at her, but when she turned around again, he let himself look a lot less certain. He could see the house now, and it appeared nice enough. White and wide, with a slanted roof. He couldn’t tell anything about the interior or what sort of people lived there because the structure was fairly anonymous. Only the separate four-car garage off to one side suggested money, unless it was used to store something other than cars. The driveway formed a loop, running parallel to the front of the house and allowing them to stop near the front door.
Michelle unbuckled her seatbelt. “Ready?”
Jason nodded. Michelle and Greg got out of the car first, Jason wanting to do the same, but Emma still held on to his hand. He glanced over at her, noticing an expression of patient amusement.
“I can’t believe you let me hold your hand the entire drive,” she said.
Jason shrugged, feeling relieved when it was finally released and wondering if it would be rude to wipe it on his jeans.
Emma had no reservations about doing so. “Seriously. I was grossed out in the first ten minutes. I don’t even like guys.”
“Then why were you holding it?”
Emma laughed. “To see if you’d let me. You’re ridiculously nice. Uncle Ben is going to love you. There he is.”
Emma nodded out the window on his side, then turned to open her door. Jason glanced out the window, saw someone short and slight. His hair was brown and medium-length, as if he were growing it out, his concerned eyes the same hue. Ben was biting his lip after saying hello to Michelle. Then he noticed Jason through the car window. Their eyes locked and Ben’s teeth released his lip so he could smile. Not just a polite upturn of the mouth either. The smile Ben gave him was bright and full of warmth.
Jason reached for the door handle and stepped outside the SUV. He stood there awkwardly as Emma threw her arms around Ben’s neck. She was already as tall as he was. Or Ben was as short as her. Either way, Emma turned and gestured to Jason with one arm, as if presenting him. Ben took a step forward, held out his hand, and then dropped it again.
“Um. Welcome home,” he said, before looking uncertain. “You are staying, aren’t you? Or do you want to look around first, inspect the premises?” Ben’s eyes darted to Michelle for help. “Is there a checklist or something?”
Jason laughed. He couldn’t help himself. When Ben heard this he smiled and offered his hand again. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted. “Let’s start with the basics. I’m Ben.”
The hand was cool when Jason took it, making him feel selfconscious about his own that was still roasting hot from Emma’s weird test. “Jason,” he said.
“Jason,” Ben repeated, a strange look coming over him. “Do you go by anything else? I mean, I’m really a Benjamin, but pretty much everyone just calls me Ben.”
“I’ve never had a nickname in my life,” he admitted.
“Oh,” Ben said, relaxing a little. “Okay. Jason it is.”
“He did have a nickname,” Michelle chimed in. “At the group home, the staff used to call him Jason the Gypsy because he couldn’t settle down.”
“Really?” Jason said, turning to her. “I never knew that!”
Michelle looked serene. “You never knew, because I would have twisted their heads off if they called you that directly.”
Jason grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. I sort of like how it sounds.”
“In that case…” Ben gestured to the front door. “Jason the Gypsy, come and see your new wagon!”
* * * * *
Past a simple narrow entryway—a closet for storage on one side and bathroom on the other—was a large open living room. Where tile ended, hardwood steps led down to a sunken space. At first glance, the large room appeared to be all there was. On the far wall, a series of tall windows revealed a backyard with a carpet of lush green grass, the view to the outside interrupted only by a fireplace. On the right, a couch faced a big-screen TV mounted on the wall. On the left were a couple of cozy reading chairs and bookshelves. Jason spun around slowly, confused at first that the entire house seemed to be a single room. Then he noticed the bookshelves built into opposite corners, which framed and partially hid two doorways.
Ben led them through the doorway on the left to the gleaming kitchen beyond. The floor was blue stone, the ceiling exposed wooden beams that matched the rustic table. The space was bathed in light from windows on the front and rear side of the house. Michelle sat at a long breakfast bar situated in front of the stove, while Emma opened a tall cabinet which hid a refrigerator inside. They had lost Greg already, but the sound of a television switching on from the living room gave away his position.
“—so help yourself to anything,” Ben was saying. “You don’t have to ask. Just treat the place like you own it.”
“And don’t worry,” Michelle said. “It’s not usually this clean.”
“True,” Ben admitted before chuckling. “We actually hired a maid, which was completely awkward. I kept following her around, trying to clean up embarrassing messes.”
“Kind of defeats the purpose,” Emma said, opening a can of soda.
“That’s what Tim kept saying,” Ben said. “Ah-ah-ah! Use a coaster!”
Emma’s eyes widened before she laughed. “Almost had me there.”
Ben grinned at her, then glanced around. “That’s it for this floor. I guess we skipped the bathroom by the entryway. Uh… Do you want to see your room?”
Jason glanced at Michelle for permission.
“You’re on your own,” she said. “I’m your friend, not your caseworker.”
“Oh, right.” Jason’s cheeks grew warm. “Old habits die hard.”
Ben led him across the living room to the other doorway, the sounds of explosions accompanying them as Greg lost himself in a movie. Beyond this door was a carpeted stairway, the noise of the television fading as they climbed. The upper floor was carpeted too, making Jason wonder if he should have taken off his shoes, especially since Ben was barefoot.
“Bathroom,” Ben said, reaching in to turn on the light and standing aside. “I figure this one will be yours. I didn’t know if you used bar soap or body wash or even one of those loofah sponge things, so I kind of bought everything. Same deal with electric toothbrushes versus normal ones. The entire bathroom is stuffed full of my little impulse shopping spree, so you’ll have to pick what you want and get rid of the rest to make room.”
“Actually,” Jason said, “I brought my own stuff.”
Ben winced. “Of course you did! Sorry. This is all super new to me. Rather than call Michelle every five seconds and ask a question, I tried to prepare for everything. Everything ever.”
“It’s fine!” Jason assured him. “I’ll use all of it. Nothing will go to waste. I just feel bad you spent so much money on me. When I have a job, I’ll pay you back.”
“It’s a gift,” Ben said dismissively, shutting the light off again. “Don’t worry about it. What’s next? The door here leads to Tim’s studio. You can go in if you like. Just make sure to close the door after you so nothing gets disturbed. We want to build him a separate studio on the property and make this a guest roo
m. I don’t suppose you’re a carpenter?”
“Never swung a hammer in my life,” Jason admitted.
“Me neither,” Ben said. “Tim and I sleep at the very end of the hall there, the room on the left is our office if you need to use the computers, and your room is right over here.”
Jason braced himself. If the bathroom had been overflowing with things he didn’t need, he could only imagine what Ben had done with the bedroom. He was surprised, then, to discover how sparse everything was. The room held a queen-sized bed and two side tables … and that was it. Even the down comforter cover was a neutral white.
“I figured you’d want to decorate it your own way,” Ben said. “Here.”
From one of the side tables, he fetched a small stack of plastic cards and handed them to Jason. Flipping through a couple, he recognized the names of major retailers, all of which sold furniture, accessories, or even electronics.
“Gift certificates?” Jason asked. Then he held them back out. “I can’t. Really. I appreciate it, but I’m not here for a handout.”
“In that case, rent is six hundred a month and it’s due tomorrow,” Ben said with a straight face. Then he smiled. “Listen, when it comes to finances, we’re doing really well. At least Tim is. I’m still mostly broke and always have been, so I understand where you’re coming from. Being on your own can be rough. Jace and I had our own house, and after he died, I was always late on payments and the bank kept threatening foreclosure. Had things played out a little differently, I’d be in your situation. Since I’m not, I’m more than happy to give you a new start. I don’t want to be your sugar daddy, and I don’t want to make you feel like a charity case. I just want to help, and if that means I get to go shopping with you and have some fun, well, it’s a win-win situation.”
Jason still wasn’t completely comfortable accepting all of this, but Ben’s eyes were shining, and he didn’t have the heart to turn down his generosity again. “Okay. Thanks. I’m going to write down however much I spend, and I’m paying you back some day, but for now, I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ben said. “So I guess that concludes the tour. Unless you want to see my room. You’re not nosey are you?”
Jason laughed. “Just a little, yeah.”
“Me too.”
Ben led them to the end of the hall, Jason ignoring the sense of déjà vu this conjured up. The master bedroom was comfortably dark, burgundy curtains keeping out much of the light. A tasteful touch of earthy hues added to the coziness, an archway on one side leading to a private bathroom and walk-in closet. Jason took all this in briefly, his attention mostly focusing on the little creature who was stretching and standing in the middle of the bed.
“You’ve got a cat!” he said excitedly.
“That’s Samson,” Ben said. “I hope you’re not allergic.”
“Nope,” Jason said, rushing forward to offer his hand. “I’m definitely not allergic to Samsons.”
The gray cat seemed a little stiff and took his time walking to the edge of the mattress. Then he sniffed Jason’s hand while keeping cautious eyes trained on him. Whatever the criteria, Jason must have passed, because Samson marked his hand by rubbing his head against it. Then he yawned and hopped off the bed, heading toward a bowl of water in the bathroom.
“He’s getting old,” Ben said, voice a little terse, “but I’m hoping he’ll outlive us all anyway. He still manages to smack down Chinchilla when necessary, so he’s got some years left in him yet.”
“Oh, so you have two cats?” Jason asked.
Ben shook his head. “Chinchilla is Tim’s dog.”
“You have a dog?” Jason didn’t mean to shout, and he felt bad that Samson took off running with ears flattened, but… “I’ve lived in twenty-four different foster homes. Twenty-four! And you know what none of them had?”
Ben humored him. “A dog?”
“That’s right!” Jason glanced around eagerly, like the animal would appear out of thin air. “Where is it?”
“In the backyard,” Ben said. “She gets a little overexcited when guests show up, but you might be the first one more excited to see her.”
“Can we let her in now?”
Ben laughed. “Sure, although you should probably step out back with her instead. Chinchilla is a little accident-prone at times.”
He was downstairs so fast that Ben had to rush to keep up. Jason peered out the glass door with his hand on the knob and spotted a medium-sized dog dozing in a patch of sunlight.
“Think you’ll be okay?” Ben asked. “I haven’t seen Michelle for a while and was hoping to catch up with her.”
“Sure,” Jason said distractedly as he opened the door.
This woke the dog, who raised her head. Jason closed the door behind him as they considered each other. Then he smiled, which was enough to send Chinchilla rocketing toward him. Well, more like wobbling very quickly. She was a bulldog, meaning she had a big fat head and a body to match. Jason was reminded of cartoons when Bugs Bunny or whoever would plug a smoking cigar with a finger, making it swell up and explode. Chinchilla looked like that cigar at its most swollen, and as he got on his knees to pet her, he decided she was the most beautiful creature in the world.
After getting his face thoroughly licked and laughing until he was out of breath, Jason was slightly relieved when Chinchilla finally backed down. She started walking the yard, glancing back at him like she was continuing his tour of the property. He did his best to follow, looking around and not seeing anything unusual. A patio of cobblestones stretched out from the house and was home to assorted lawn furniture and a grill. The yard was long and wide, and had probably once been bigger before the newly-built privacy fence was installed. Jason assumed that was for Chinchilla’s benefit more than anything, since he saw no sign of neighbors.
“If this was my yard,” a voice said, “I’d be sunbathing nude every day.”
Jason turned around to find Emma approaching. “Well, with two gay guys living here, I doubt they would care.”
“Three,” she corrected, stooping beside him to pet Chinchilla. “This place is on the verge of becoming a gay commune.” She stood again and sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice? They could build extra houses, start a little rainbow community out here where nobody calls you names.”
Jason eyed her for a moment. “When you said earlier that you don’t like guys…”
Emma donned a mischievous expression. “I didn’t mean boys are icky and have cooties, no. Don’t tell my parents though.”
“Why not?” Jason glanced back toward the house. “Your uncle Jace was gay and Michelle didn’t seem to mind. Is your dad the problem?”
“No, he’s cool. I’m just waiting for the absolute worst time to come out. Like during a funeral or something.”
Jason laughed. “Why?”
“Because people always ask how you came out. It’s a story you have to tell countless times during your life. I want mine to be good. So what’s yours?”
Jason blinked. “I didn’t have to come out because I don’t have a family.”
“See?” Emma said. “That’s no good at all. No rising suspense, no funny ending. You can do better than that. When did my mom find out about you?”
He thought about it a moment. “After I got caught having sex with my foster brother.”
“Now we’re talking!” Emma nodded approvingly. “You start telling that story at a party and the whole room will stop to listen.”
Jason grinned. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe not. So what do you think?”
He nodded slowly. “So far, so good. I feel like I’m mooching, which sucks, but past that, the house is great and Ben seems nice.”
“He really is.”
They took a cue from Chinchilla—stretched out on her belly and panting happily—and sat down on the grass.
“So, did you leave anyone behind in Houston?” Emma asked.
“You mean
like a boyfriend? No. What about you?”
“It just so happens,” Emma said proudly, “that I landed my first girlfriend last week. She says she’s bi-curious, when in truth I’m pretty sure she’s straight, but I’ll take what I can get. It’ll never last, but that’s okay because she keeps writing me these horrible Goth poems.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm. The last one was about us dying and sharing a coffin, our bodies becoming one as they decompose. Very hot.”
“Searing!” Jason agreed. “Do your uncles know?”
“That I’m a lesbian? Yeah. They helped me figure it out. I started having feelings for a neighbor girl when I was thirteen, which freaked me out. She was my friend, and I couldn’t stop thinking about—well, you probably don’t want to know. I decided to get away from her to see if that helped. Uncle Ben and Tim had just gotten this place and it was summer, so I asked if I could come stay. Seeing two dudes kissing when they thought I wasn’t looking sort of tipped me off that maybe I wasn’t so weird after all. When I finally confided in them, just being able to talk about it helped.”
“Did you ever tell the neighbor girl?” Jason asked.
Emma rolled her eyes. “While I was away for the summer, she found herself an unbelievably hot boyfriend.”
“Figures,” Jason said. “Being gay isn’t hard. I’m okay with that, but I wish it wasn’t so impossible to meet someone.”
“Tell me about it.” Emma nudged him. “Let’s make a pact, seeing as how we’re already arranged to be married. If we make it to our thirties and still haven’t met someone, we really will get hitched. That way we don’t have to live alone.”
Jason mulled it over. “I think there’s some sort of tax break too.”
“And if we want to have kids,” Emma said, “we can do the turkey baster thing.”
“Okay,” Jason said, holding out a hand. “It’s a deal. If we’re still sad and single when we’re thirty, you’ll become Mrs. Grant.”
“Or you could take my name,” Emma said, but then she reconsidered. “Actually, Emma Grant doesn’t sound bad. Makes a nice theater name. Way better than Emma Trout. You know what? It’s a deal!”
