Something Like Spring

by Jay Bell

  “Just platinum?” Jason said with a chuckle. “It’s nice! Very classy.”

  “Yeah.” Tim sounded anything but certain. “I did have some words inscribed on the inside.”

  Jason tilted the ring to see. The words were in Spanish, but he had a good idea what they meant. “This is from that poem, right?”

  Tim nodded. “Just the first part. I figured the second would go on the actual wedding ring, which will say ‘my beautiful butterfly’ because that’s what he is to me.”

  Jason glanced up, eyebrows raised.

  “You think I’m doing the right thing?” Tim asked.

  Jason hesitated. “You’re not sure if you want to marry him?”

  Tim’s eyes bulged. “That’s not what I meant!” he said, laughing manically. “Oh man, I want to marry him so freaking hard! Ha! Oh my god…”

  “Take a deep breath,” Jason said patiently.

  “Right,” Tim said. “Okay. Whew.”

  “If it’s what you want, you should go for it. The ring is perfect.” Jason handed it back. “Is that what you were worried about?”

  Tim studied the ring and swallowed. “Do you think he’ll say yes? He was married before, you know. To Jace. I’m not trying to be his replacement, but maybe asking will bring back all the pain Benjamin went through—”

  “Or maybe it will feel good,” Jason interrupted. “It’ll mean two different guys have wanted to spend their entire lives with him. That seems pretty lucky to me, and Ben is the kind of guy who doesn’t take things for granted. Besides, have you seen the way he looks at you? And I don’t mean when you guys are in the mood. Sometimes you ask him to pass the salt, and I practically expect to hear music swell.”

  Tim grinned. “I love when he gets all melty.”

  “And a million other nauseating things, I’m sure,” Jason said. “Ben’s list of what he likes about you is probably twice as long. So yeah, I think you should follow your heart on this one.”

  Tim was visibly relieved. “Maybe you’re right. Now I just have to find the right time.”

  “Dinner tonight?” Jason suggested.

  “No. I want to do it here. That might not sound romantic, but he and I have always been hiding away from the world together. Something important like this should be private. Hell, we might even have the wedding here. His dad will walk him down the hallway instead of the aisle.”

  Jason laughed. “Now that you might want to rethink.”

  “I will.” Tim pocketed the ring. “If you promise to rethink moving out. There’s no rush. We like having you here.”

  “Okay,” Jason conceded.

  “Just make yourself scarce when I give the signal,” Tim said, practically giddy as he left the room. Jason smiled after him, and when he was sure the coast was clear, allowed himself a dreamy sigh.

  Then he stood, walked to the dresser, and picked up the black box Tim had discarded. It was probably good that he had. The velvet surface really was covered in lint, probably from where Tim had been hiding it. The box was empty, of course, the inside fitted with black silk and a slit where the ring had been. Now the ring was gone. He tried not to view this as sad. The box hadn’t been emptied. It was waiting to be filled. Jason closed the lid and stowed the box in a drawer, just in case Tim asked for it back.

  * * * * *

  A week passed without Tim popping the question. Jason began to feel just as nervous as Tim had acted. Every morning when he went downstairs for breakfast, Jason searched for signs that it had happened in the night. This morning in particular had a surprise waiting for him, one that represented the antithesis of marriage. Marcello was in the kitchen. Judging from the still-full bottle on the table, he hadn’t been there long.

  “Champagne for breakfast!” Marcello declared happily, toasting Jason. “What a wonderful way to greet the day. Have a glass with me. You’re old enough, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Tim answered for him, moodily adjusting his bathrobe. Next to him, Ben was sipping a cup of green tea like it was the only thing keeping him sane. Marcello gestured to the empty seat next to him, so Jason plopped down.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “Time for me to break out the bow tie again?”

  “Not until the Eric Conroy fundraiser in October,” Marcello said, eyes sparkling. “But speaking of scantily dressed men, with hurricane season winding down, it won’t be long until we see your handsome young friend again, will it?”

  “We’ve still got a couple months,” Jason said. “Hurricane season runs until the end of November.”

  “Does it?” Marcello asked, looking surprised. “Well, you’ll have to bring him to the Christmas party. He was such a delight last year, with all his swashbuckling stories of the high seas.”

  Jason shook his head. “I’ll probably be showing up alone this year, but feel free to invite him anyway.”

  “Ah.” Marcello nodded his understanding. “Well, I’m sure many young suitors will be excited to see you on your own, for once.”

  Tim huffed impatiently. “A social call? This early? For real?”

  “Always such a grump in the morning,” Marcello tsked. Then his face became serious. “I’m afraid I heard some rather disturbing news last night. As you know, the people who bought Eric’s house—your old house—are friends of mine.”

  “Do you show up unannounced there too?” Tim asked.

  “Only when they aren’t at home. They’re terrible bores, but you know I love that house. You should come with me sometime. It’s such a trip down memory lane.”

  Tim’s features brightened somewhat. “Are you serious? You still have a key?”

  “Oh yes. The new owners work during the day. We could have the house all to ourselves.”

  Tim blinked a few times. “Count me in!”

  “Then I look forward to breaking the law with you,” Marcello said happily. He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I happened to run into the current owners, and they mentioned someone showing up at their house in the middle of the night. Someone who was asking about you.”

  Tim looked baffled. “Bill collector? Unless there’s something I forgot to pay—”

  “Ryan,” Ben guessed.

  Marcello nodded grimly. “The description matched, and even if it didn’t, he gave his name. Unfortunately, my friends don’t have any skeletons in their closet and thus don’t value discretion as much as we do. They told Ryan about your work at the gallery.”

  Tim placed a hand over his forehead and leaned back. “Oh man. Someone came by last week when I wasn’t there. He didn’t leave any info, but the person on duty said the guy was acting weird. I figured it was an artist wanting his work exhibited, but it could have been Ryan.”

  “It most likely was,” Marcello said. “Well, that should be the end of the trail for him. We’ll institute a policy at the gallery that no personal information shall be given to anyone and—”

  “Sorry,” Jason interrupted, holding up his phone. The screen displayed a satellite map pointing to the house they were all sitting in. “If Ryan knows your first and last name, and that you’re still in Austin, he can find where you live.”

  “Call the phone company,” Ben said to Tim. “They can get us unlisted.”

  “And off the Internet?” Jason asked.

  Tim held up a hand. “It’ll be fine. He’s probably just looking for a handout. If he shows up when I’m not here, don’t answer the door.”

  “Precisely,” Marcello said. “I didn’t want to alarm anyone, but it would be wise to take preventive measures now. I’ll have my administrator take care of the Internet listings. Tim, if you want to talk to the phone company and gallery staff, then I feel we can confidently say we’ve covered all bases.”

  “And if not,” Ben said, clenching his jaw. “I’ve sent Ryan packing once before. If it comes down to it, I can do so again.”

  * * * * *

  “What are you doing?” Tim asked, barging into the kitchen and looking at the loaf of bread in Jason’s
hands as if it were hard drugs.

  Jason held up a slice. “Lunch time. Want a sandwich?”

  “No.” Tim glanced over his shoulder and back again. “Uh, I thought you had to work today.”

  “Nope.” Jason reached for the mayo before doing a double-take. “Wait, you’re asking him now?”

  “Yeah.” Tim grinned. “The weather is nice, and my parents’ backyard was where I first figured out— Never mind. Here.” He pulled out his wallet. “Go out and get yourself something to eat, okay?”

  Tim shoved some cash at him. Jason took it, fanning out the bills. “There’s almost two hundred dollars here!”

  “So don’t go to McDonald’s.” Tim was hopping back and forth on his feet like a little kid desperate to use the restroom. “If I don’t do this now…”

  “Okay,” Jason said, understanding. “I’ll throw on my shoes and be out of here in three minutes flat, I swear.”

  “Thanks,” Tim said. “How do I look?”

  “Stunning,” Jason said. “As always.”

  Tim smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe treat yourself to a movie too, or do some shopping, okay?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t be back until late.” He glanced at his half-made sandwich. “Should I clean up?”

  “No, don’t worry about it,” Tim said, starting to do his pee-pee dance again.

  Jason took the hint and sprinted out of the kitchen and upstairs, laughing once he was in his bedroom. He put on his shoes as quickly as possible and grabbed his phone, noticing a text message from Emma.

  Im dropping out of school.

  Jason stared in shock and sat on the corner of the bed, texting her back.

  Ha ha?

  A second later, Emma responded.

  I mean it. Im so sick of it here!

  Oh boy. Jason hit the button to call her, and she picked up right where she’d left off.

  “I’m never going to patch things up with Bonnie while I’m stuck in this stupid city.”

  “I thought you were over that?” Jason asked.

  “Hope springs eternal,” Emma replied. “You understand that better than anyone.”

  “Yeah,” Jason said, knowing this wasn’t an insult. He’d called Emma plenty of times to whine about still wanting William. “I was hoping you wouldn’t make the same mistakes as me, emotionally or academically.”

  “Do you regret dropping out?” Emma asked.

  Not really, since he still didn’t want to go to college and didn’t have big career aspirations, but he didn’t want to encourage Emma to do the same. “Listen, if you drop out, then you won’t get into college and you won’t have an excuse to move to Austin. Ben is big on school. He’s not going to reward you for quitting by letting you live here.”

  “I can get a job and we’ll still get our own place,” Emma said.

  “Being a sixteen-year-old drop-out and finding a good job isn’t easy, believe me. I don’t think Bonnie’s going to be very impressed by it either.”

  Emma sighed. “Maybe not. I could meet someone else though.”

  “Austin isn’t the only city with a gay youth group.”

  “Fine,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t have texted you if I knew you were going to be so damn reasonable.”

  Jason chuckled. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could talk you down for once. Usually I’m the one having a meltdown.”

  “Could you imagine if we both had one at the same time?” Emma asked. “Pity party!”

  “Nuclear meltdown pity party.”

  Emma sighed again. “So how are things in paradise?”

  “Fine, I was just—” Jason shot to his feet. He was supposed to be gone by now! “Oh shit!”

  “Oh shit?”

  “I really gotta jet! Like right now. I’ll call you later.”

  He hung up the phone without waiting for a response and walked to the window, standing to one side so he couldn’t be seen. Ben was on his back in a lawn chair he’d dragged out onto the grass so he’d get more sun, a paperback book in his hand creating shadow on his face. Tim had the garden hose out and was pretending he was going to spray Chinchilla, the dog running back and forth to avoid being hit. Jason wondered if Tim had chickened out, or if Ben had already given his answer. Surely the aftermath wouldn’t be as casual as this!

  Next Tim filled a watering can and walked to the corner of the yard where a flower bed marked Samson’s grave. Chinchilla followed, much more solemn in this duty. Ben raised his head to watch them a moment before shutting the book, laying it on his chest, and closing his eyes. The scene was mundane, and yet so idyllic. Jason wondered if they realized what they had, if they still remembered how loneliness felt and were grateful for all these little boring moments together, because seen by a lonely person like him, it sure looked like heaven.

  Tim approached the house again, Jason stepping away from the window. He could hear the sound of the garden hose slapping the outer wall as Tim looped it on its mount. When silence followed, Jason returned to the window.

  Tim was standing over Ben and watching him, maybe dreaming of waking him with a kiss. Or maybe he said something, because Ben turned his head in Tim’s direction. Their bodies were still as they exchanged a few words. Jason wondered if Tim was reciting poetry or had found the perfect words to say. Or maybe he was just trying to find air, because even Jason’s chest was tight with nervousness. He practically squealed with excitement when Ben sat up and Tim dropped to one knee.

  A look of surprise, a ring held up, then one of the longest moments in history. The sun caught the platinum band, shining like Ben’s smile. After wiping his eyes, Ben held out a hand, his fingers splayed. For some reason Tim reached for the other hand instead, slid the ring on, and was practically knocked backwards when Ben kissed him. Those muscles came in handy as Tim lifted Ben up and held him tight in his arms.

  Jason stepped back, wiping at the tears on his cheeks. That’s what he wanted. His yearning for change had nothing to do with leaving this wonderful place. He wanted a love like that—one that could thrive and grow or even settle down and become routine. No more waiting and wanting. Just being together. Jason didn’t need to move on. His heart did. And it was time.

  In more than one way! Remembering his promise to not be around and not wanting to ruin this special moment, he crept down the stairs to the living room, stealing one last glance out at the backyard where Tim was grinning, thumb brushing affectionately along Ben’s cheek. Resisting the urge to blubber again, Jason hurried out the front door, hopped in his car, and left Ben and Tim to enjoy their private little paradise.

  * * * * *

  Few things made Jason feel so conflicted, he was discovering, than being at a gay bar. On one hand, every guy he saw there was homosexual or bisexual or at least very open-minded. That was true in the youth group too, but rarely did more than thirty people attend. At least a hundred men were here, all of them touching, flirting, or checking each other out shamelessly. Which was the downside, because Jason caught quite a few people staring at him, but he honestly didn’t know if they were interested, especially with so much competition around. The guy tearing up the dance floor for instance—lithe torso bare and glistening with sweat.

  Or the older man with a George Clooney vibe, decked out in a designer suit and enough jewelry to signify wealth. Jason should be used to his type from the parties Marcello threw, but so many of those men were couples. Flirtatious, sure, but mostly settled down and not so… on the prowl. Jason sucked on his beer, taking it all in and missing the days when he’d been young enough to attend a humble youth group in a church classroom.

  “Why did you want me here with you?” Ben said, voice raised to be heard over the dance music.

  “You’re my wing man!” Jason replied.

  Ben grinned. “Yeah, but why didn’t you want Tim to come too?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jason said, “but if Tim was sitting next to me right now, no one would have even noticed me ye
t.”

  Ben didn’t look offended. Instead he seemed to understand perfectly. Of course it also didn’t hurt that the George Clooney look-alike strolled over and asked Ben if he wanted to dance. Ben held up his hand, showing off the engagement ring and shook his head. Then George Clooney glanced over at Jason before retreating.

  “Ouch,” Jason said. “I’m not even second choice.”

  “He doesn’t think he can get with you,” Ben said. “Guys like that are insecure. Otherwise they wouldn’t flaunt their wealth so much.”

  “Or maybe I didn’t meet his standards,” Jason replied.

  Ben waved away this thought, as if it were impossible. Then he wiggled his ring finger again. “He probably thought we were together.”

  “I’m so glad Tim finally asked!”

  “Me too. I never expected him to. I’ve always been the one to push our relationship further, and I figured eventually I’d be down on one knee. I wasn’t ready quite yet—”

  “You weren’t?”

  Ben shrugged. “I felt content. Everything has been so perfect that I didn’t think I needed more. But when he asked…” Ben looked overwhelmed for a moment. “I guess it made me realize just how badly I did want it.”

  Jason nudged him. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing by being here? Sometimes I try to figure out what you would do in my shoes, and I think you would have waited for Tim if he went off to the Coast Guard. Or you would have moved up there without asking.”

  Ben shook his head. “I didn’t always chase after Tim. I did until we were together, but afterwards, when he broke up with me, that was it. All those years I could have looked him up and chased him down, but at a certain point, you want a guy to be with you because he’s willing, not because you’re giving him the hard sell.”

  Jason considered this. “So you didn’t wait for him to come back?”

  “I waited. I told myself I would move on and even tried dating another guy, but I soon realized I couldn’t feel the same about anyone else. Not at that point. So yeah, I did sit around and hope. For the rest of high school, I was waiting. Then, when I went off to college, I decided to try again. If I hadn’t, I might not have met Jace or at least been willing to go on a date with him.”