Something Like Spring

by Jay Bell

  They shook on it, Jason smiling broadly. Not only did he land himself a place to live today and make some new friends, but he’d also gotten engaged.

  * * * * *

  When they returned indoors, Ben was cooking lunch. Greg had been dragged away from the television by his wife. They all gathered around the breakfast bar, like the studio audience of a cooking show. Jason hopped up to help—being a deft hand at chopping produce, even if his meals rarely turned out right—and everyone talked and laughed as he and Ben worked together. Even Chinchilla was happily passed out on the cool stone floor. Jason could have joined her. He’d only been here an hour, and already he felt relaxed.

  Foster home number seven. That one had been full of four biological kids and two adopted, plus the parents and a grandfather. On weekends the entire family would gather, playing games or just sitting around telling stories and laughing. The vibe had been wonderful and warm… except Jason couldn’t figure out how he fit in. Instead he sat on the sidelines and watched with envy. This time he had no problem integrating. Jason had always liked Michelle, and not surprisingly, those good feelings extended to the rest of her family. After all these years, maybe he had finally found his own little piece of paradise.

  “Tim! Hey!”

  Jason’s head rose at the sound of Ben’s voice. He turned to see a man standing in the doorway. His hair was jet black, or at least it appeared that way since he was wet with exertion. His shirt was soaked with sweat too, sticking to a body every bit as muscular as Greg’s, if not a bit leaner. Emma was right. Tim could easily compete with her father when it came to good looks. He was handsome enough that when he locked eyes with Jason, it was a struggle to hold his gaze.

  “Hey,” Tim said, nodding upward.

  “Hi,” Jason replied.

  Those eyes! For once Jason’s knowledge of precious stones failed him because he couldn’t quite find the right one. Too much gray to be a diamond, but man, were they clear! Like someone had taken silver and somehow made it transparent.

  “Dinner is almost ready,” Ben said. “Care to join us?”

  Tim looked away from Jason, which made it easier to breathe. “I have some work at the gallery. I was just about to head over there.”

  “Big surprise,” Greg muttered. Then he winced, most likely due to the elbow Michelle jabbed in his ribs.

  A shadow crossed Tim’s features when he saw Greg. Then the sun came out in full force when he noticed Emma. “Hey! What are you sitting there for? Come give me some sugar!”

  “But you’re disgustingly sweaty,” Emma complained.

  Jason wouldn’t describe it as disgusting by any means. He watched Tim curiously as he hugged Emma, squeezing her even closer when she made a face and complained. In that uninhibited moment, Tim allowed himself to smile, cranking up the sex appeal a notch higher than it had any right to go. But then his eyes returned to Jason and that light faded. Tim gave another little nod, followed by a reserved smile without showing teeth. Then he excused himself and left the room.

  “Ow!” Greg said. “What? I didn’t say anything that time!”

  “You were going to,” Michelle replied.

  Jason glanced back toward the empty doorway, feeling a lot less certain about his new home than he had just a moment ago. Then again, he supposed every paradise had its serpent.

  * * * * *

  When night had fallen and Michelle and her family had gone home, Ben became anxious. Conversation was stilted, Jason having to repeat himself multiple times, occasionally stopping completely in midsentence without Ben noticing. He tried not to take this personally. Ben was obviously distraught, his attention repeatedly returning to the front door. It wasn’t hard to guess who he was waiting for.

  “I think I’ll start getting settled in my room,” Jason said. “Unpack a few things.”

  “Do you need help?” Ben asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  Jason was eager to give him privacy. Maybe then Ben would call Tim and get it all sorted out. Then again, that wasn’t likely to happen unless one thing changed. Foster home number eleven. The mother there had pampered Jason, treated him like a prince. The family had no other children, biological or otherwise, for him to compete with. Her husband was the only issue. He wasn’t a gruff man by any means. In fact, he was soft-spoken, but it became painfully obvious that he didn’t want children the way that his wife did. Lucky for him, Jason’s resentment over someone trying to replace his mother bubbled up, and he solved the unwilling father’s problem by breaking every single dinner dish before loading the shards in the dishwasher and running the machine.

  If Tim was the same way—if he wasn’t happy to have Jason here like Ben was—remained to be seen. Maybe Tim was only avoiding Greg. Perhaps, now that he had gone, Tim would be more friendly and welcoming.

  Trying to put the issue out of mind, Jason slowly personalized his new room by unpacking. First was a framed photo of him and Steph taken during their road trip to Las Vegas. They had thought eighteen was the legal gambling age and were sadly mistaken, so most of their trip was spent walking the strip and looking at the lights. Or hanging out in their hotel room, giggling over the stupidest things. He set the photo on the nightstand and emptied a box of knickknacks: An alarm clock, which was the most useful. A book he’d been trying to finish for so long it was more of a decoration. A plush pig Steph had given him before leaving that she insisted he talk to and cuddle with, as needed.

  At the bottom of this box was a white bandana. Jason wasn’t shocked to see it, since he’d tossed it in there when packing. He put it in the same place he always did, between the mattress and box-spring, where it would remain until he was feeling melancholy some quiet evening. Probably a Sunday, he imagined. The past tended to catch up to people on Sunday nights.

  Jason took a break to stare out the window at the backyard before unloading another box in the bathroom, choosing between the familiar and what Ben had bought him. He stored the rest beneath the cabinets. Then he returned to his room to set up his computer. He placed it on top of the dresser, not having anywhere else to put it. Maybe one of the gift certificates Ben had given him would be good for a small desk or table.

  Finally he moved a potted plant out of one corner so he could lean his guitar there. That was about it. Home, sweet home. The rest of the boxes were full of things he thought he’d need or that would only be useful when he got his own place again. He stacked those against the wall for now.

  Jason considered sitting on the bed with his guitar and strumming out a quick tune, but the hour was late enough that Ben might have already gone to sleep. Poking his head in the hallway to find out, Jason heard voices from downstairs. Was Tim home? Or was it just the television?

  Old habits died hard. Some refused to die at all. Jason had spied on most of the foster families he had been placed with. Often this was dreadfully boring; other times he had gleaned information that made him bail out earlier than normal. Of course this wasn’t a foster placement. Not exactly. So why should he bother spying? What did he have to gain? Then again, it couldn’t do any harm.

  Jason rolled his eyes at himself and crept into the hallway. He took the stairs one by one, simultaneously listening for the creak that would give him away while also trying to tune in to the conversation below. Tim was definitely home, but so far Ben was doing most of the talking.

  “You can’t avoid him every time they come to visit. Seriously. He’s a part of my family. I know Greg isn’t blood, but that doesn’t matter. Call a truce or something. For me.”

  “I don’t get why you care,” Tim said, but after a heavy pause he added. “I’ll try.”

  In slow motion, Jason eased down a few more stairs so he could hear better and tried not to breathe.

  “Where were you?” Ben asked. “They left more than two hours ago. Didn’t you get my text?”

  “At the gallery. And yeah, I did.”

  “So why didn’t you come home sooner?” Silence. Then Ben’s voice
sounded less patient. “You never work late. It’s not just Greg you were avoiding, is it?”

  “This is your thing,” Tim replied.

  “We talked about this! You said we would do this together!”

  “I know, but you can handle it. I thought about it today, and I think it’s better for everyone if I stay out of the way. Hey! Where are you going?”

  Jason tensed, wondering if he was about to have company in the stairwell, but relaxed when Ben spoke again.

  “To get a drink. When I come back, you better have a damn good reason for what you just said. Or better yet, a change of heart.”

  Well well! Looks like Ben wears the pants in this relationship! Jason figured it would be the other way around. He wondered if this determined their roles in the bedroom too. Kind of a shame if it did, because Tim seemed like he’d make a good—

  “My parents.”

  Jason leaned forward, puzzled by Tim’s answer. He wasn’t the only one.

  “Your parents?”

  “Yeah. Look what a great job they did with me.” Tim’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “The thing is, I don’t know how to do it right. I can’t raise a kid.”

  “He’s turning nineteen!” Ben said, sounding on the verge of laughter. “He’s already grown up. He doesn’t need a dad.”

  “Fine,” Tim said. “What about Ryan?”

  Ben was quiet a moment. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

  “He was about Jason’s age. Look what a great job I did with him. The kid ended up in the emergency room.”

  Unease crawled up Jason’s spine and made the hair on his neck tingle. Tim had put someone in the emergency room? What did he do, beat the guy half to death?

  “This is different,” Ben insisted. “Jason is nothing like Ryan.”

  “You don’t know that,” Tim said. “Ryan was a perfect little angel when I first met him. By the time we separated… Well, you saw for yourself.”

  “It’s not the same, and I doubt Ryan was that innocent when he met you.” There was a sound like an aluminum can being set on a table, then the rustle of couch fabric. “So all of this is because you’re worried about screwing up?”

  “I’m not worried,” Tim said. “I know I’ll fuck this up. You won’t though. You’ll know exactly what to— Hey, I’m trying to talk here!”

  “And I’m trying to kiss you.”

  “I thought I was in the dog house.”

  “You might be still,” Ben replied. “But you being worried about doing a good job is sweet. Sweet enough that I’ll give you something to smile about while in the dog house.”

  “Punishment accepted. Uh, where is he?”

  “Upstairs. I think he’s asleep.”

  “Okay.”

  Jason listened to the wet sound of lips mashing together and wondered if maybe he would hear more. He was leaning forward so far that he nearly toppled over when Chinchilla came around the corner, butt wagging when she saw him. She started panting loudly, which hopefully disguised the yelp that escaped his lips. Then he started crawling backwards, attention still on bottom of the stairs in case anyone was coming to investigate. Hopefully Ben and Tim were too involved with what they were doing to notice.

  Once on the top stair, he stood just in time to avoid a kiss from Chinchilla and tiptoed back to his room. He was shutting the door when the dog waddled inside. Then she made herself comfortable and sat down.

  “Have it your way,” Jason whispered as he shut the door. “Honestly, if I were you, I’d probably stay down there and enjoy the show.”

  Chinchilla stopped panting and put her head on her paws.

  “Then again, I guess you’ve seen it all before.”

  Jason crossed the room, grabbed his guitar, and flopped on the bed. As he plucked out a song, he did his best not to think about how long it had been since he’d had someone to argue with, and how fun making up could be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Jason woke the next morning, he noticed a strange scent in the air. After sniffing a few times, he made his best guess. Dog farts. His fault for helping Chinchilla into bed last night. He rolled over to check on her, the dog raising her head and looking at him accusingly.

  “Nice try!” he laughed. “I know that wasn’t me.”

  Stomachs grumbling, they both got out of bed, Chinchilla racing off down the hall as soon as the door was open. By the time Jason caught up with her in the living room, she was being let out the back door.

  “She slept in your room the whole night?” Ben asked with a smile. “Wow. She probably thinks you’re staying here just for her.”

  “Fine with me,” Jason said. “I’ll be her pet human.”

  “There are leftover waffles in the kitchen,” Ben said, walking him in that direction. “And by leftover I mean those that turned out right. You’re lucky you weren’t down here earlier. I made Tim eat all the burnt ones.”

  Jason fought down a smile. “Is he home?”

  Ben’s face grew more solemn. “No, he’s at work already. I took the day off. I figure we could go out shopping, blow through some of those gift certificates.”

  Ben kept him company during breakfast, mostly fretting over whether Jason drank coffee or tea, or if he should run to the store to buy Coke when Jason said he preferred it instead. He declined the offer, of course, but he appreciated getting the five-star treatment. While in the shower, Jason found himself rushing through his morning rituals, eager to return downstairs. He was beginning to see why Ben had been lucky enough to marry someone like Jace.

  That topic hadn’t come up again. Jason kept debating whether or not he should offer his condolences or if it was more respectful to not mention Jace at all. He felt relieved when Ben took the initiative. They were in the car together, nearing civilization.

  “So, you met Jace?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah. I was going through a hard time, and Michelle thought it would cheer me up.”

  Ben checked his blind spot, switched lanes, then looked at him. “Did it?”

  “Definitely. Most adults try to offer solutions, but he was more about telling me he’d been there, gotten through it, and found his dream guy.”

  Ben grinned. “Really? He said that?”

  “Yeah. He talked about you a lot.”

  Ben’s grin grew wider. “Really really?”

  Jason chuckled. “Really for real. Are you so surprised? I mean, the guy married you, right?”

  “I know,” Ben said demurely. “It’s just nice to hear it again, like getting a message from him after all these years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jason said. “About what happened, I mean.”

  “It’s fine,” Ben said, before reconsidering. “Actually, it’s not. Jace dying will never be okay, but accepting that has helped a lot. I’ve learned that I can still feel happy along with that sorrow. And that I can still love without having to stop loving or missing him.” Ben hesitated. “Listen, Michelle told me that Jace invited you to come live with us. I want you to know that he meant it. I don’t remember him mentioning it to me, but at the time he was struggling with memory problems. He didn’t forget people though, just details, and I don’t want you to think he forgot about you. Or that he used an empty promise to make you feel better.”

  Jason shook his head. “I never thought that. The truth is, I turned him down. I’d gone through an ugly situation with my previous foster family and decided that I was done trying to fit in where I didn’t belong. As much as I liked Jace—and I really did—I just wasn’t ready. I told him that too. I’m guessing that’s probably why he didn’t mention the idea to you.”

  “Okay,” Ben said. “That makes sense. I was constantly worried back then, and I’m sure he didn’t want to add to that. Still, I’m surprised you were able to resist his charms.”

  “Only because I was shell-shocked,” Jason said. “I ended up calling him eventually, didn’t I?”

  “True. If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened wit
h you and your last family?”

  “It’s a long story,” Jason warned.

  As they pulled into a mall parking lot, Ben shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

  Jason told his story, touching a little on his childhood but mostly focusing on his stay with the Hubbards. By the time he was through, they had just finished having lunch in the food court and his throat was dry from talking.

  “How long ago was this?” Ben asked.

  “About three years.”

  “And since then? Have any guys come close to competing with Caesar?”

  Jason blinked. “There haven’t been any other guys.”

  Ben’s eyes went wide. “None?”

  “Some unrequited crushes, but besides that, nada.”

  “Wow.” Ben leaned back. “That’s one hell of a dry spell!”

  “I know. Meeting guys is easy. It’s meeting guys who like guys that’s tricky.”

  Ben laughed. “Even harder is meeting a guy who likes guys and who you like.”

  “And harder than that is finding one who likes you back.”

  “Wait,” Ben said. “Let’s add it all together. It’s hard to find a guy who likes guys that you like who also likes you back. Somebody should put that on a bumper sticker.”

  “I’m getting it as a tattoo,” Jason said. “Right across my forehead. It really is hard. I’m not old enough to go to bars, and what else is there? Every time I get a new job, I scope out everyone, hoping to meet the right guy.”

  “We know a lot of gay people,” Ben said. “Most of them are too old for you, but a friend of ours has the occasional party and usually a younger crowd shows up there.”

  Jason nodded. “I’d be willing to give it a shot, although ideally, I would love to be out walking my dog and run into some cute guy walking his dog. Naturally that would lead to us talking. Then we’d start meeting in that same place every day, like little ten-minute dates. After weeks of this, maybe even months, we’d agree to meet without the dogs. Unchaperoned, so to speak. That would be romantic. Way more so than a party or a bar.”

  Ben smiled. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”