Something Like Winter

by Jay Bell

  “Fair enough.” Eric moved his plate aside, the food half-eaten. “I suppose I would be a five. I had a girlfriend once, and I enjoyed sex with her. But once I discovered guys, I never looked back.”

  “Then why don’t we call ourselves bisexual?” Tim asked, eyeing Eric’s leftovers. When Eric gestured he should help himself, Tim nearly tackled the food.

  “I suppose it’s easier to simply say you’re gay, especially if you plan on mostly being with guys. Otherwise there’s a lot of explaining to do, or the misconception that bisexuals need to be with both genders to be satisfied. Personally I don’t believe anyone is completely gay or straight. There’s always an exception to the rule, be it the right person or the right situation. In the future, I doubt we’ll use any of these terms at all.”

  “Nhr-mrr?” Tim asked with a mouth full of goose.

  “Never. You’ll simply ask out the person you’re interested in, and they’ll say yes or no. Preferring guys won’t be any more controversial than favoring blonde hair or dark skin. We already use the right term when we say sexual preference, but for now people treat it like an identity.” Eric sipped at his water. “Of course, that’s only if gay people still exist by then.”

  “Huh?”

  Eric chuckled, as if embarrassed. “It’s all this genetic research. What if they find a gene that controls sexual orientation? If parents are allowed to genetically design their children—which seems inevitable—then of course they’ll want children who can give them grandchildren.”

  “How is that inevitable? Won’t people say it’s—I don’t know—immoral?”

  “Ah, but what a slippery slope! Imagine a pre-birth health scan that checks for diseases and corrects potential defects. If infertility is among them, couldn’t a preference for the same sex be grouped in with that? Then—boop!—the doctor flips a switch and the kid comes out straight as an arrow.”

  Tim blinked. “You’re freaking me out.”

  Eric laughed. “If it makes you feel better, I think we’ll be okay as long as technology doesn’t develop faster than human rights.”

  “And you made all your money from technology,” Tim said with exaggerated disapproval. “You’re to blame for the future being heterosexual.”

  “My money is also about to buy a dessert that will blow your mind. How does that sound?”

  Mother-fucking glorious!

  Tim managed to contain this reaction and civilly nod his approval. The sugar-laced dessert and a coffee made Tim sober enough to drive Eric home. Dropping him off seemed too cold, especially since dinner had been so expensive. Eric did his best to hide the bill, but Tim saw the triple digits. So he walked Eric to his door, which made it feel like a date.

  “Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Tim said.

  Eric turned and smiled. “Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. There’s nothing more valuable in life than companionship.”

  Hokey but true, and something Tim had learned the hard way. “I was scared,” he blurted out. “That’s why I never went back to Ben. I was too afraid of what everyone would think. And that he wouldn’t want me anymore.”

  Eric considered him, house keys in hand. “The more we love, the more we fear. Rejection, or what others might think, these are just the beginning. In a perfectly happy relationship, we fear losing the other person to disease or chance.”

  “Or letting the other person down. Or them realizing that you aren’t good enough.” Tim laughed. “Fear and I are old friends. I could stand here all night listing off its different guises. Ben only made it through my barriers because of those first few weeks we spent together. I wasn’t in school and my parents were away, so I felt safe. If only I could do the same for Travis.”

  “Why don’t you take him on a trip?”

  Tim paused, surprised by the simplicity of the idea. “Maybe I should on the next break. I don’t have any money, though.”

  “I can—”

  “No!” Tim said, not wanting Eric to think he liked him for that. No doubt countless people had hit him up for cash over the years. Tim was determined not to be one of them, although that’s exactly what he’d done the first time they met. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll get a job or something. Really.”

  Eric’s response was cut off by a coughing fit. He waved at Tim when asked if he was okay, like he should simply leave. “Just an old smoker’s cough,” Eric insisted. “I need to get inside and have a drink.”

  “Okay. Thanks again for dinner!”

  Tim walked back to his car, thinking about Eric’s idea. A trip somewhere with Travis could be just the thing. A place for the two of them, far away from it all, where Tim could show Travis the potential they had together.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wind picked up, sending orange and yellow leaves—still moist from the recent change in weather—swooping to the ground. With just a few weeks until December, winter should be asserting its hold, but that never seemed to happen in Texas. Most of Tim’s classmates were already bundled up and shivering, but the weather seemed mild compared to Kansas winters. Tim sat on the porch steps leading to the frat house, wearing an old pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, while pushing buttons on his cell phone.

  He could never get a strong signal inside the house, but he didn’t mind going outside since it afforded him more privacy. Tim checked the time before making the call. Monday mornings were always the best for calling home. His father would be at the office, but his mother always needed time to ease back into her work week. “People say Friday night is part of the weekend,” she would say. “Why can’t Monday morning be as well?”

  Tim greeted a frat brother heading out for an early morning jog and considered skipping class to do the same after the call. He pushed the send button and counted the number of rings before the phone was picked up. This time it was four.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “¡Gordito! How are you doing?”

  “Fine. Heading out to class soon.”

  “I was just about to get to work,” his mother said with a yawn, but he knew she would make excuses until after lunch. “What have you been doing lately? Have you met a girl?”

  Her favorite question. “Yeah, too many. I don’t know how I’m supposed to choose.”

  His mother laughed. “With your heart, Gordito. You’ll settle down when the right one comes along.”

  That one had already come and gone, as far as Tim was concerned, but Travis had potential. He was no Ben, but then who was? He changed the topic, like he always did. Besides, he had a reason for calling. “Thanksgiving is this weekend.”

  “Yes. Did I tell you that your Aunt Emily is coming down? She’s had a terrible time with the divorce, but met someone new she’s bringing along.”

  “Really?” A family Thanksgiving was rarer than rare, even when they still lived in Kansas. Usually his parents would go to a friend’s house for cocktails or something adult-ish, but with Aunt Emily there, maybe this year would be different. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Emily again,” he hinted.

  “Oh, well, she’s only down for the weekend, and I’m making your father drive us down the coast to Matamoros. Emily still hasn’t seen Mexico, so I’m taking her across the border.”

  “Sounds fun,” Tim tried, but he already felt a pit in his stomach.

  “What are you going to do? Eat with some friends? Should I send you some money so you can all go out?”

  Eric was having a party, but Tim hadn’t committed yet, saying he needed to check the family plans. “What are you guys doing for Christmas?”

  “Your father wants to see snow. Isn’t that mean? He’s taking me to—”

  Tim barely heard the rest of the conversation. Once again, he would be on his own for the holidays. What angered him most was that he kept getting his hopes up, still caring if he saw his parents. Events played out like this every year, and foolishly, he kept putting himself through it. Ella kept chirping happy thoughts into the phone, Tim m
aking just enough noises to prove he was still there. Then Travis brushed past him on the way to class. Maybe there was hope after all! As quick as he could, Tim got off the phone and ran to catch up with him.

  “Hey!”

  Travis looked at him like he was crazy. “Long time no see,” he said sarcastically. “What’s it been? Half an hour?”

  Tim grinned. “I know. You should stop by my place sometime.”

  “We live together.”

  “Do we?” Tim played dumb. “Funny, I never noticed.” This earned him a smile, so he pressed on. “My parents are bailing on me for Thanksgiving. Isn’t that lame?”

  “Mine are being cheap,” Travis replied. “They said they could either fly me home this week or for Christmas, but not both, so I’ll have to drive up there to see them.”

  “What is that, a fifteen-hour drive?”

  “More like eighteen.”

  “All that for some turkey.” They stopped at a crosswalk, the morning traffic too heavy to cross without the pedestrian light turning green. Tim wished it never would. “You could hang here with me. A friend of mine is having a party. It’ll be more fun than a long boring drive.”

  “Nah, I’m flying up there,” Travis said. “Thanksgiving is the only time the whole family gets together. My sister lives in Minnesota and doesn’t come down for Christmas anymore, and my brother is heading to boot camp in December. I’m thinking I might spend the winter break slowly driving up there, maybe seeing the sights along the way.”

  “Or you could stay with me.” Tim said it with enough meaning that Travis’s expression became guarded. They hadn’t slept together for weeks now—drunk or sober—and Tim felt like he was trying to catch one big Kentucky catfish with a shining, spinning lure made of sex. “I’ll get a place for us, somewhere away from here. Somewhere secluded. Just you and me.”

  The light turned green. Travis started crossing the street. Over the idling engines, Tim just barely heard him say, “I’ll think about it.”

  Tim let him go. To catch a fish, sometimes you had to let up on the line before yanking it in.

  * * * * *

  Eric’s kitchen had come to life, pots bubbling and steaming, ovens baking and grills snapping. There wasn’t a burner or surface not in use. Eric moved from spot to spot with baster in hand, even when he wasn’t working on the four turkeys, but before long he’d be back at the ovens, squirting juice on the birds’ roasted skins.

  “It’s good that you came early to help,” Eric said over the din.

  Tim glanced at the small army of caterers and cooks Eric had hired for the party. So far Tim hadn’t been much use at all. “You owe me,” Tim said, hoping for a laugh, but Eric had singed a finger and was sucking on it sullenly. “I have big news.”

  Eric pulled the finger from his mouth. “Do tell!”

  “He said yes.” The way Tim grinned, anyone would have thought he had successfully proposed, but Eric understood.

  “Travis is letting you take him on a trip?” Eric passed the baster to one of the cooks and joined Tim at the kitchen’s edge, dragging along a stool to sit on. “I know you said not to, but I called my friend about that cabin in Colorado Springs. It’s still available.”

  Tim had checked out the website the first time Eric mentioned it to him. The cabin was secluded and beautiful, perfect in all aspects except for one. “I’m hoping to find something cheaper.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “I told you I’d pay for it. It can be my Christmas present to you.”

  “And I told you no. Get me a pair of socks or something. I’m not letting you spend that kind of money on me.”

  “The offer stands,” Eric said with a shrug. Then he nudged him. “Well, it looks like you have something to be thankful for today.”

  “It’s a Thanksgiving miracle!” Tim said with exaggerated glee.

  “I mentioned the two snowmobiles that belong to the cabin, didn’t I? Yes? Very well, I’ll stop. Who has my turkey baster?”

  Eric was on his feet and dancing around the kitchen again. An hour later, Tim finally found a way to make himself useful when the doorbell rang. Guests arrived in droves, many of them men around Eric’s age, but a few younger couples came too and a group of rowdy lesbians who kept grabbing Tim’s ass and calling him k.d. lang. The guests took care of themselves, for the most part. Waiters walked the room with champagne and hors d'œuvres, and soon Tim didn’t have to rush to the door every couple of minutes.

  He mingled while waiting for Eric to join the party, taking note of the guests’ different reactions. Some of the older guys turned up their noses at him, perhaps preempting the attitude they expected. There were a lot of unfinished questions too, variations of “So you are Eric’s… ?”

  “Friend” was the only answer he gave, although clearly most of Eric’s guests had already assumed otherwise.

  Then there were the guys who hung on Tim’s every word, laughing a little too loud at his jokes, eyes darting down his body when they thought he wouldn’t notice. At least they were nice to him, even if it made him a little uncomfortable.

  This made him realize just how rare someone like Eric was. He didn’t seem to want anything from Tim except companionship. So far, he hadn’t made a move or flirted seriously. He could have been straight, considering how little he reacted to Tim’s appearance.

  Unlike the guy eyeing him from across the room right now. Tim was used to guys sneaking peeks, but this man was shameless, leering at him even when Tim looked his way.

  The man was Eric’s age, but hadn’t taken care of himself. He was heavy, bearing in weight a lifetime of indulgence. His thick fingers were adorned by jewel-encrusted rings, his suit finely tailored, and his dark hair slicked back against natural curls, a few of which had broken free. If Eric had an opposite, this man was it. Tim couldn’t stop looking his way, mostly because he felt his constant gaze. This soon lured the man over.

  “Marcello,” he said, extending a warm and slightly sweaty palm.

  “Tim.”

  “Tim!” Marcello repeated. “How nice to meet you. Eric said he had a new friend, but he failed to mention how young and attractive you are.”

  “Maybe he was trying to protect me,” Tim said.

  Marcello barked laughter at this, delighted at the subtle slight. “He may have been indeed. Well, it’s too late now. The secret is out. Are you still in college, Tim?”

  Almost reluctantly, Tim answered the basic questions about himself while Marcello shamelessly sized him up like a prize bull. Tim wasn’t sure what to make of him. The name sounded foreign, but Marcello’s husky voice held no trace of accent.

  “I deal in multimedia,” Marcello explained, swiping two glasses of champagne from a tray passing by. He handed one to Tim. “Art, really, stationary images or moving pictures. The Internet has revolutionized the way we experience art, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not really sure.” The room applauded as Eric finally made an appearance.

  Marcello kept his attention on Tim. “I mean that we don’t have to leave our homes to visit an exhibit or museum. We can enjoy all kinds of imagery from the privacy of our own homes, which of course has made people more honest about what they want to see. That’s the blessing of anonymity.”

  “Funny,” Tim said. “I’ve found that the more anonymous a person is, the more free they feel to lie. Ever read a personal ad?”

  Marcello barked laughter again. “Too true. I suppose anonymity makes people honest about what they want, but not what they are. I’m sure you’ve never felt the need to lie about your appearance, have you?”

  “Oh, hello, Marcello!” Eric stepped between them. “So nice to see you. I’m afraid I need Tim’s help in the kitchen for a moment.”

  Marcello bowed as if to royalty. “I’ve always said, Eric, that everyone enjoys your parties except for you. Try not to work so hard.”

  “Tell me that again once you taste the turkey!”

  They chuckled together politely before Eri
c led Tim down a hallway. “Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “but I didn’t want you being taken advantage of. Did he make you an offer already?”

  “An offer?” Tim shook his head. “No.”

  “Oh, he will.”

  “That guy deals in porn, doesn’t he?”

  Eric stopped walking and turned to face him. “Marcello has his fingers in a lot of pies. If it has to do with exploiting beautiful men, Marcello makes money from it.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not doing porn.”

  “Good, but Marcello doesn’t deal only in pornography. He owns a modeling agency, for instance, and you can make good money at a photo shoot. That’s what I wanted to speak to you about. If he offers you a job, say no. At first. Marcello goes to ridiculous lengths to get what he can’t have. He won’t give up, so name an astronomical price. Money begins to lose meaning when you have as much as he does. Play your cards right, and you’ll easily be able to afford that cabin for Travis.”

  “Think so?”

  “Yes. Or you can accept a gift from me and not deal with Marcello at all.”

  Tim shook his head. “I can deal with Marcello. Why are you friends with a guy like that, anyway?”

  “Oh, he’s not so bad. He does a lot for the community, even when distracted by the latest pretty thing. The charity balls he hosts every year raise so much money that entire organizations depend on them. But, Marcello can be pushy. Don’t let him be in charge of you.”

  “I won’t.”

  They returned to the party together, both ignoring a few knowing glances directed at them.

  “Quite a turnout this year,” Eric said.

  Tim nodded. “I’m surprised so many people came. Thanksgiving is usually a family thing.”

  “Yes, but gay people choose their families, especially when they get older. I’m sure everyone here has parents or siblings they could be with, but there comes a time when all relatives seem to talk about is their children or grandchildren, problems at school, or parent-teacher conferences. The list goes on.” Eric sighed. “Sometimes you just want to be around others who are on the same page as you are, no matter how little you might have in common.”