“Ben?” The voice was strained. “It’s me.”
Allison? She sounded so different that he could barely be sure it was her. Something was wrong.
“My dad. He’s--” There was sobbing, in the midst of which sounded like the words heart attack. “Please call me back. I love you.”
The machine beeped again, signaling the end of the message. Ben grabbed the phone and dialed Allison’s dorm room in Austin, before gut instinct made him hang up the phone and dial a number he knew by heart. The same one he had always called when they were growing up. After two rings, the line clicked and Allison answered the phone.
“Allison? What happened?”
“He’s dead, Ben.” Allison broke down, Ben trying to console her while she regained her composure. “My father,” she said when she was capable. “He’s dead.”
* * * * *
Convincing his parents to send him a plane ticket hadn’t been hard. They had been begging him to come home for Christmas, which he had resisted. Ben had loved the idea of being alone in Chicago, celebrating the holidays with only his boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend, he corrected.
His parents managed to get him a flight on Christmas Eve and had probably paid through the nose to do so. The only available flight was a midnight express. The plane boarded in record time due to having fewer than twenty passengers. Ben’s seat was in the front of coach in the emergency exit row, and while still not first class, it did have more leg room than all the rows behind him. With the seats next to him free, Ben was soon stretched out and sleeping, but not before looking down on the city that had been his home the last year and a half.
Ben stirred when the air pressure changed, indicating that the plane had begun its descent. He shifted uncomfortably, the pocket watch pressing painfully against his hip and regretted keeping it. So far it had been a constant reminder of his losing streak with love. Only his own poor taste was to blame. Since starting college, he had found plenty of legitimate guys who had taken an interest in him. These relationships never lasted more than a few weeks, while Ben’s appetite for unavailable straight guys continued to thrive. Once he’d even broken up with a guy after developing a crush on his straight brother.
All of this left a bad taste in Ben’s mouth, reminding him of high school. He had waited so long to be free of that environment, where every guy he wanted was straight or closeted. The number of openly gay students in college appeared limitless, but still Ben was attracted to those he couldn’t have and he didn’t understand why. Was it a fear of commitment or a fetish for straight guys? Probably neither. He wanted nothing more than a serious long-term relationship. Perhaps his particular tastes couldn’t be satisfied by anyone, straight or gay.
Or maybe he was still yearning for Tim. Ben looked out the window at the orange city lights and wondered for the thousandth time what had become of him. Since the summer they had broken up, Tim had disappeared. He still lived in the same house, since his car was often in the driveway, but Ben never saw Tim out jogging or at school the next year. He must have gone to a school in the next district, maybe a private one.
“Funeral, huh?”
Ben came out of his repose to see a flight attendant sitting next to the emergency exit in one of those fold-down chairs they used during take off and landing. The man was in his mid-twenties and thin, with the sort of high cheek bones that provided models with job security. His dirty blonde hair was short on the sides and medium length on top, with just enough styling product to make it stand up. Overall he was very attractive and rather dapper in his airline uniform.
“Sorry?” Ben inquired.
“You’re flying because of a funeral,” the man stated in a pleasantly deep voice.
Ben was taken aback. “Well, yeah. How did you know?”
The flight attendant rested a hand on his chin, his long index finger on his cheek. “Your face was so sad. People never look sad when they fly, unless there is a funeral involved.”
Ben felt a pang of guilt. He had been reminiscing about failed relationships when he should have been thinking of Allison and what she was going through.
“Of course,” the flight attendant mused further, “we also get sad faces when people have to leave their partners behind, although passengers usually recover from that by the time we land.”
“Well, if you must know,” Ben began testily. He was becoming irritated with this stranger prying into his personal affairs. “Not only is there a funeral, but my boyfriend robbed me yesterday, thus becoming my ex.”
“That would explain it. A double whammy. Here, on the house.”
The flight attendant reached into a pocket and took out two mini bottles of vodka. “My name’s Jace, by the way,” he said as he tossed them to Ben.
“Your name tag says Jason,” Ben pointed out.
“I know.” Jace took hold of the tag and angled it to better see. “Isn’t that mean? I told them I wanted one that says Jace, but that’s not my legal name. Where do they get these things, anyway? Is there a store that sells them somewhere? That would be cool. Then I could buy my own.”
Ben laughed and introduced himself.
“That can’t be your legal name either,” Jace replied. “It must be Benjamin?”
“Just Ben,” he replied tersely. He didn’t like anyone to call him by his full name. Not anymore.
“Well, it’s very economical at least. Only three letters.”
Ben looked down at the two tiny bottles of booze. “Care to join me?” he asked, offering one.
“Nope. Not allowed to drink on duty,” Jace explained. “I don’t really drink anyway. I only take them because they make such nice stocking stuffers.”
“Are there flights on Christmas?” Ben asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, yes,” Jace replied with an exasperated look. “There isn’t a day of the year that the airlines don’t serve.”
“That must suck.”
“It can, but this year I finagled it so I have Christmas off.” Jace paused and looked wistfully out of the window. “It’ll be nice to be home again.”
“So you live in Houston?”
“Yeah. You?”
Ben shook his head. “Chicago.”
“Too bad.” Jace said this casually enough, but the words hit Ben like a lightning bolt.
“I’ll probably be in town a few weeks,” Ben amended hurriedly.
Jace raised an eyebrow and smiled. He didn’t reply. Instead he looked expectant. “You know,” he said eventually, “there is a strict company policy against asking passengers out on dates.”
“Oh.”
“That’s not to say that you can’t ask me.”
Jace’s grin matched Ben’s own.
* * * * *
Christmas came and went, but Ben barely noticed. The entire day was spent trying to console Allison, who was now alone in the world except for an aunt and a few cousins who had decided not to leave Colorado for the funeral.
Details of what had happened unfolded during the lulls of Allison’s crying spells. A neighbor had seen Mr. Cross collapse in the driveway and had called the police instead of an ambulance. Allison’s father had been found passed out in the street a month before, so the neighbor thought he was simply drunk again. By the time the police arrived, Mr. Cross was in critical condition from a heart attack. He died on the way to the hospital.
“He never really got better,” Allison confided as they sat together in the living room of her childhood home. “He always drank too much, and it only got worse once I went to college.”
“At least his temper mellowed with you,” Ben said.
Allison shook her head once.
Ben sat up on the couch. “You mean it didn’t?”
“No,” Allison confirmed. “Well, it did, obviously, in that I was able to date and hang out with you again, but he still went into his rages and acted really paranoid, especially when drunk. He even claimed once that you were blackmailing him.”
> “I kind of was,” Ben admitted. “I threatened to tell people that he was molesting me if he ever hit you again. He didn’t, did he?”
Allison shook her head, but looked away as she did so. Ben wondered if she was being honest, but knew that he would probably never know, not now. People had a funny way of forgiving the dead.
The following day Ben tackled the long list of affairs to be set in order, starting with the funeral home. Allison decided to have the body cremated and not hold a memorial service. Allison and Ben were the only ones likely to attend anyway, since they had so few relatives and Mr. Cross never socialized.
Next they dug through piles of paperwork in Mr. Cross’s office, searching for a will. They found a house mortgage that was almost paid off, and a life insurance policy that would cover the rest while leaving Allison with money to spare. They still weren’t sure how much money was in the bank or if he left any credit card debt, but Ben planned on searching the computer for this information the next day. What little they had accomplished had already taken them well into the evening. The process was especially tiring for Allison.
Ben waited until she was asleep before pulling Jace’s number from his wallet. He felt slightly guilty about dating in the midst of Allison’s loss, but those feelings were soon replaced by nervousness as he punched in the number. A woman answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi. Is Jace there?”
The woman paused before sternly asking, “Who’s this?”
Not another married guy! Ben came close to hanging up when a rustling sound preceded the woman’s laughter.
“Idiot!” Jace’s voice said through a hand on the receiver. “Sorry, this is Jace,” he said in a much clearer tone.
“Hey, it’s Ben. Look, did I call at a bad time?”
“Ben! Hey! No, not a bad time at all. That was just my sister. She enjoys destroying my social life.”
“I know what you mean,” Ben said sympathetically. “I have one of those, too.”
“Yeah, they’re a pain. She was just leaving anyway,” he added pointedly. “Hold on.”
Ben listened to a hurried goodbye between the siblings, wondering what in the world he was going to say when Jace was free again. How about that flight? Did everything go okay with handing out the peanuts? Any trouble with the overhead bins? Usually he met guys at a bar where he was able to converse in person. Over the phone it felt much more awkward.
“So, what did Santa bring you for Christmas?” Jace asked suddenly.
“What?” Ben laughed.
“For Christmas. What did you get?”
“Uh, actually I haven’t even opened my presents yet. I’ve been with my friend almost the whole time since landing. My parents are probably dying to see me, actually.”
“They’ll have to wait,” Jace said. “Do you want to meet tonight?”
“It’s almost midnight!”
“Is it already?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “You see what flying so much does to you? I have no concept of time anymore.”
“Tomorrow would be good,” Ben suggested.
“Can you ice skate?” Jace asked.
“No.”
“Excellent! Why don’t we meet at the Galleria Ice Rink? Do you know where that is?”
“Of course,” Ben answered, his head spinning. This was all going too fast!
“Next to the skate rental booth. Around dinner time?”
Ben didn’t answer right away.
“I’m not a serial killer or anything,” Jace said, noticing Ben’s hesitance. “It’s just that I would prefer to stare into those lovely brown eyes of yours when we talk.”
“My eyes are green,” Ben lied, trying to throw him for a loop.
“No, they aren’t. I’ll prove it to you tomorrow. Seven o’clock?”
“Yeah, all right,” Ben said, smiling into the receiver. “Central time zone. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t, promise. Go see your parents tomorrow!”
“All right, all right!” Ben mocked irritation. “Geez. You’d think we were married already.”
“Now who’s rushing things? Goodnight, Ben.”
“Goodnight.”
Chapter Seventeen
Houston’s Galleria might be one of the largest malls in America, but the three million square feet could have easily fit inside the pit in Ben’s stomach. The amount of butterflies there contended with those of his first day in kindergarten. Dates never made him nervous, but usually Ben would meet a guy at a bar or on campus, where conversation would flow naturally until they reached some level of comfort. Instead there had been a brief and groggy flight, from which remained only a fuzzy impression of a handsome flight attendant. Hopefully his memory didn’t cheat, because his evening was now committed to this mystery date.
The mall’s layout was fairly typical— rows of stores on each floor separated by an empty gap that allowed a shopper to see the floors above or below. Ben peered over one of the railings to the lowest floor, which was an ice rink. People of all ages glided by below, as comfortable in their ice skates as in shoes. This wasn’t going to work.
There was no sign of Jace, but then they were supposed to meet by the skate rentals. Gathering his courage, Ben pushed his way through the swarms of people. Two days after Christmas meant the mall was a nightmare of after-holiday sales and gift returns. Once the elevator that Ben squeezed into dinged open, he spotted Jace immediately.
Ben’s date was handsome, which did little to dispel his anxiety. Jace was dressed sharply in a black, knee-length, winter jacket, the sort a classy New Yorker might wear. This was tempered with a casual pair of jeans and a well-worn pair of tennis shoes. His hair was styled to perfection, which made Ben wish for a mirror to check his own, but Jace had already seen him.
They greeted each other clumsily, unsure whether to shake hands or hug. Waiting in line for their skates was awkward, Jace trying to make small talk and Ben trying to find a part of himself that wasn’t feeling bashful. Now Ben was eager to get out on the rink, just so they would have an activity to distract themselves with.
“Are you any good at this?” Ben asked as they were pulling on their ice skates.
“Oh, I do all right.” Jace finished tying his laces and looked to Ben’s. “Wait. You missed a rung and the tongue is stuffed in. Here.”
Like a father helping his child, he stooped, untied Ben’s skates, and then laced them up correctly. When finished, he smiled and offered his hand. Ben accepted it and hobbled with him to the edge of the rink.
“I really can’t ice skate at all,” he said. “I did once when I was eight, and all I remember is falling on my ass until I finally gave up.”
“You didn’t have me then.”
Jace’s eyes twinkled as he led Ben out onto the ice. Ben started slow, keeping a white-knuckled grip on Jace’s elbow. Less than a minute later his legs were slipping out from under him. Jace caught the back of his jacket before he could fall and allowed Ben to steady himself on the wall of the rink.
“You have to move your legs like this,” Jace explained, showing him the odd diagonal movement needed to propel forward.
Over the next twenty minutes, Jace patiently coached him. Ben began to get the hang of it. The ice skates weren’t so different from his old Rollerblades, really. Another twenty minutes later and he was really enjoying himself. He still wasn’t confident enough to let go of Jace, but then he didn’t want to. Ben released his death grip on Jace’s elbow and took his hand instead. He noticed that while Jace was slender, there was a lot more muscle than it appeared. His hands weren’t boney and cold. They were strong and warm.
“This is nice,” Ben said as they made their way around, hand in hand. “Anywhere else and people would be staring at us, but here we have a reason to hold on to each other.”
Jace smiled at him. “I have to admit that was part of the plan,” he confessed, “but I don’t need a pretense to hold another guy’s hand in public. Let people stare if th
ey want.”
“Where were you when I was in high school?” Ben sighed.
“I was wondering that myself. You look much younger now that you aren’t suffering through a late flight.”
“Oh.” Ben wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. “I just turned twenty. You?”
Jace exhaled dramatically. “A little bit older than that.”
“Thirty?” Ben asked in shock.
“Hey!” Jace let go of Ben to express how offended he was. Ben’s arms pinwheeled for a second before Jace came back to stabilize him with an arm around his waist. “I’m only twenty-six!”
“Well, you were the one acting dramatic about it,” Ben teased. “What do you like better anyway? Younger or older?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s the personality that counts. Mind if I do a couple of rounds on my own?”
“Sure.”
Jace parked Ben somewhere safe before gliding away. He moved gracefully, navigating skillfully past slower skaters and travelling in sweeping arcs. Ben watched him, admiring his skill while taking the chance to check out Jace’s body. His frame was tall and his shoulders broad, but it was hard to tell more with the thick winter clothing. More than Ben’s curiosity was becoming aroused.
Ben struck out bravely on his own, determined to do at least one round under his own power. Jace nodding approvingly as he swept by, showing off by skating backwards for a few strokes. When they met back at the entrance to the rink, their stomachs grumbled in unison. Carpooling in Jace’s practical silver coupe, they drove to a seafood place not far away.
“My legs are really starting to hurt,” Ben winced as they sat down at the table.
“Wait until tomorrow,” Jace informed him. “You’ll be walking bowlegged all day.”
“Because of the skating you mean?”
“Of course,” Jace replied innocently.
Their order was taken by a disgruntled waitress who rightly felt it was much too soon to be returning to work after Christmas. They sipped their drinks when she brought them, making eyes at each other and often smiling without reason.
Something Like Summer Page 17
