The Rose Man

by Cheryl Dragon

  “You really want to rile him up,” Ben said.

  “Old habits. I promise I’ll be nice. He hates me, I hated how he treated you. Same place?” Ross asked.

  “I still live there to keep an eye on him, yeah,” Ben said. It was practical—why buy another small house a few blocks away only to bounce between dad’s, his own place and work like a ping-pong ball? Still, with Ross around, Ben felt sixteen years old again. He’d had all those dreams of getting away, but life had made him choose between doing what was right and what was selfish.

  “I’ll pick you up. I’m checked in at the motel.” Ross headed out.

  Ben smiled. “Fine. Dinner, but don’t come inside. Dad doesn’t need to get worked up.”

  Annoying as always, Ross didn’t answer. He just headed out of the door.

  * * * *

  The cute little house had a new roof and the same old siding. The duck mailbox out front was from Ben’s woodshop classes, after they’d accidentally run over the old mailbox while practicing parallel parking.

  Maybe they had been doing something else besides the parking and their clothes might not have been entirely on. Distracted driving was bad, but Ross had taken the blame.

  Ross parked on the street and left his suit coat in the car. Facing Mr. Grover was always a delight. As much as Ben wanted to avoid a scene, Ross wasn’t one to hide. He’d put up with that enough in high school. Granted, back then Mr. Grover could’ve thrown Ben out of the house or sent him to conversion camp.

  It had happened to enough kids back then. No one had questioned parents’ rights to drag their kids to any church they chose, to send them to a religious school if they wanted to pay for it, and corporal punishment was biblical. Ross had taken the blame when he could for Ben. Ross’ parents weren’t the kind to hit or preach. Then again, some dads thought a good beating would fix their kids. Ross was lucky and he knew it.

  His parents had moved to Kentucky for his dad’s job. Before that they’d been out on the west coast. Not that Ross remembered living there, but his parents had never fully adapted to the Bible Belt. They’d moved to Nevada when his dad retired.

  This would always be home for Ross, because Ben was here.

  Rolling up his sleeves, Ross walked up the drive and knocked on the screen door.

  “Who’s there?” Mr. Grover shouted from his recliner.

  The main door was wide open and the screen unlocked. Ross let himself in.

  “Hey, Mr. G., a little piece of the past. I’m meeting Ben.”

  Mr. Grover had aged like milk. The once burly and barrel-chested man was thin, his cheeks and eyes looking as if they’d sunken into his face. The oxygen tubing there made Ross feel sorry for the old man.

  “You?” Mr. Grover tried to stand up. “Get out.”

  “Still?” Ross asked.

  “Out of my house!” Mr. Grover failed to stand up and began coughing.

  “I’m not here to cause trouble. Sheriff Larry called the FBI in for help on a case,” Ross explained.

  “You,” Mr. Grover repeated.

  Normally Ross would’ve been cussed out and shoved up against a wall by now. Ben’s dad blamed Ross for his son being gay. It was crazy, but it’d likely spared Ben beatings or his dad’s hate to some extent, so Ross was happy to defiantly take the disapproval.

  “You okay, Mr. Grover?” Ross asked.

  Something flew across the living room. Ross dodged the inhaler with ease.

  “Your arm is still pretty good.”

  Ross had dodged baseballs and the odd knife in the past, but Ben’s mom would always run interference. That was what was missing. Mrs. Grover had been as religious as most ladies in town. She’d prayed on whatever she didn’t approve of.

  “My son focuses on his work. Ben doesn’t do that,” Mr. Grover said.

  “All cured?” Ross mocked. “We’ll see.”

  A car pulled into the driveway, and Ross took a deep breath. Ben would not be pleased.

  Ben rushed up the stairs and shot Ross a look.

  “It’s like I never left.” Ross retrieved the inhaler and put it back on the tray table next to Mr. Grover.

  “I told you to wait outside,” Ben scolded.

  Smiling, Ross shrugged. “I wanted to say hi. I’m very sorry about Mrs. Grover. She was sweet. I hope you feel better, Mr. Grover.”

  Ben frowned. “You okay, Dad?”

  “He’ll never leave you alone unless you tell him,” Mr. Grover grumbled.

  “Dad, he’s on a case. This isn’t about me,” Ben corrected. “We do have to work on this together. Let’s get you set up for dinner.”

  “Don’t fool yourself. He wanted you to run away with him.” Mr. Grover stood. “I can microwave my own dinner. I’m not helpless.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll set out some PJs and your night pills,” Ben replied.

  Mr. Grover pulled his oxygen tank to the kitchen while Ben went down the hall to the bedroom. Ross hovered in the hallway when he heard a metallic thud.

  Dashing into the kitchen, Ross grabbed Mr. Grover before he hit the floor. He’d dropped his oxygen tank first.

  “You okay?” Ross asked.

  “Fine.” Mr. Grover tried to push Ross off. “I dropped the tank and fell trying to get it.”

  “I got it.” Ross picked up the tank and turned it so Mr. Grover could reach the handle.

  The old man cringed and tried to pull away.

  “It’s not contagious. I’m not more gay than Ben, I promise,” Ross said.

  “I’m a joke to you because I don’t want my son to go to hell? Religion and that stuff might be a choice for you, but I’ve been near death enough to believe in it all,” he replied.

  “You’re not a joke. I just know I can’t get your approval. Kissing your backside is pointless. You’d accuse me of hitting on you,” Ross teased.

  “You left,” he shot back.

  Ross felt the accusation and the emotion Mr. Grover buried deep. As much as the old man didn’t want Ben to be gay, seeing his son hurt still cut Mr. Grover.

  “I wanted Ben to go with me. College is good for all law enforcement. Cops with a degree go further and faster,” Ross pointed out.

  “And it’s my fault he stayed. Or his mom’s. I get it.” He got a meal from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave.

  Was the old man feeling guilty?

  “Ben made a choice and likes his job. I just want him to be happy,” Ross said honestly.

  “One thing we can agree on. The right girl will show up one day,” he said.

  Ross suppressed a laugh. As the microwave beeped, Mr. Grover grabbed his oxygen tank and headed down the hall.

  “Your food,” Ross said.

  “Gotta pee. Lost my appetite,” he groused.

  Ben came over and turned off the microwave. “Why?”

  “He’s in rough shape.” Ross ignored the obvious question.

  “I’m sure you love that,” Ben said.

  That cut Ross. “Hey, no. I don’t wish pain or anything like that on anyone. The old man hated me. I never let it get to me because of you. I took a lot of shit from him and I never complained. Lurking around town and not showing my face to him is rude and cowardly. That’s not me, not now. We’re grown. I’m not going to act like I have anything to be ashamed of. You don’t either—you’re not a kid anymore.”

  Ben’s jaw tightened. “I asked you to leave it.”

  “You want to keep hiding? Or feeling bad about it even when people know?” Ross asked.

  “This isn’t about people. People know. I don’t want to throw things in his face and make him weaker when he’s sick,” Ben said in a hushed tone.

  Ross nodded. “I don’t want to upset him, but I’m not going to hide. Hell, I’d have helped him, but he’s so stubborn. He acts like I seduced you.”

  “He knows. He just wants a scapegoat.” Ben shook his head. “I wanted to spare you and him all of this.”

  “I know, but I’d rather deal with it all.
He has to face it and get over it,” Ross said.

  “We don’t always get what we want,” Ben said.

  Ross felt a backhanded smack in that statement. “No, we don’t. But some of us never stop trying. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  Chapter Three

  The two men reviewed the menu at the local steakhouse. It felt like a lodge, with tons of wood and a roaring fire year-round, a bear skin rug on the floor, locally brewed whiskies on the menu and the plethora of trophy heads looking down from the walls. Those dead eyes always made Ben feel a bit guilty, but he rarely sprang for a fancy meal so he’d power through. The food was amazing here.

  “Your dad hasn’t changed much,” Ross said.

  “Neither have I.” Ben shook his head. Maybe that was the problem with staying around home. Everyone expected people here to be what and who they had always been. Change was hard in a small town. But did Ben really want to change?

  He liked who he was, but not how he sometimes had to censor himself or keep certain things so private from his father or even Sheriff Larry. On the job and in town, Ben was accepted, but the old guard still had their prejudices. Running away would change that. While Ben had never seen Ross as a coward for leaving, that was always the feeling he got about himself when he dreamed of doing the same, with Ross or without. And that somehow also made Ben a coward for not standing up to his father or the community.

  Ross smiled.

  “What?” Ben asked.

  They were interrupted by a waiter long enough to take their order. Ben tried not to look uncomfortable. Most of the couples were straight. It felt like they were all staring at the gay guys.

  “Are you okay?” Ross reached over, but Ben pulled his arm away.

  “Fine. Let’s talk about the case.” Ben sipped his water. Without the uniform, he felt a bit more vulnerable. People were looking—two men dining alone could be a business deal, but people knew the truth about Ben.

  His dress shirt felt fine, but his sport jacket was a bit tight in the shoulders. This wasn’t how he dressed all the time. Ross looked so natural in suits.

  “Really? Not a few minutes to catch up?” Ross teased.

  “I think you and dad covered that. You just waltzed in there thinking he’d have changed?” Ben asked.

  “I didn’t waltz, first off. I knocked. Secondly, it’s been more than a few years. Sorry that I’d hoped he’d become more tolerant. He’s still blaming me. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Ross said.

  The guilt stabbed at Ben. Ross acted like it didn’t hurt him, but no one wanted to be blamed or berated. Ben wanted to be as strong as Ross, but Ross’ parents were different. Ross had never had to worry about being kicked out or medicated. There were some things Ross didn’t need to know.

  “I’m sorry he’s still that way, but you went in there,” Ben said.

  “I’m not complaining. Giving the old guy a shot was the least I thought I could do. He was going to find out I’m back in town one way or another. The old guys that hang out in town gossip like they accuse women of doing at the beauty shop. One lunch at the diner and it’ll be all over town. I won’t bother your dad again. Happy?” Ross asked.

  Ben nodded. “Thanks. You don’t get my family, but I’m not from yours.”

  “Thank God. I never thought of you as a brother,” Ross teased.

  Ben’s face burned. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Good. So you just live with your dad? Never mention a date or anything gay?” Ross asked.

  Ben shrugged. “Believe it or not, it’s not a big deal. Most of my life is work and getting dad to and from doctor’s appointments. My sexuality doesn’t factor into my taking care of him, my shopping for groceries or my work.”

  “I don’t remember you being so celibate. You’re basically a monk with no social life?” Ross asked.

  The zing should’ve hurt Ben, but he was sort of numb after all these years. “I go to Charlie’s bar when I need to let that side of me out.”

  “Sort of like Tony from the bowling alley?” Ross asked.

  Ben shook his head. “I don’t just use men for sex. I have friends.”

  Their food arrived and Ross focused on checking how his steak was cooked. Ben waited for his ex to argue or tease him.

  “We should go to the bar tonight and see if other men have had a rose left on their windshield,” Ross suggested.

  “Charlie knows about it. We can talk to him and see if anyone has mentioned it. I don’t want to start a panic,” Ben said.

  “Those men need to be on alert,” Ross argued.

  Ben had been wrestling with that idea. The balance between not causing a panic versus making them aware…could tip off the killer. It could also save lives.

  “Ben, you okay?” Ross asked.

  “I want to think about this for a bit,” Ben said.

  “Small town, you want to play it safe. I get it. You’ve got one dead already,” Ross reminded him.

  “But if they all run for the closet, we might not know if they go missing. They come from all over the county, even outside, and some from the city. All the leads will dry up and the bad guy will realize someone is onto him. We need to play this carefully,” Ben said.

  “Valentine’s Day is just a bit under two weeks away. He’s taken three men, which leaves nine more. The wait-and-see approach is over. We can still go to the bar. They’ll have heard about Kevin’s body,” Ross pointed out.

  “It’s too early to hit the bar,” Ben countered.

  Ross smiled. “Your boyfriend going to be there?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “I don’t have one. You?”

  “No, work keeps me busy. I’ve had a few, but moving around, it’s tricky… I’m finally close to home now.” Ross smiled.

  “Here? Not Nevada, near your family?” Ben asked.

  Ross chuckled. “They found a nice retirement community. Dad golfs and mom volunteers. The most gambling they do is going to bingo at the church. They like the warmth without the humidity. I visit a few times a year. I don’t want to raise a family in Vegas.”

  “Here?” Ben laughed. The idea of Ross with kids and a carpool made Ben forget about the dead body for the first time since he’d seen it.

  “I know. It’s not perfect, but no place is. A huge city is too much. Here, I know people and they know me. Frankfort is good,” Ross said.

  “You’re going to adopt and be a single dad?” Ben asked.

  Ross wiped his mouth with the napkin. “That’s a last resort. I’d rather not do it alone. Why don’t we walk around the strip for a bit when we’re done? I’d like to see what’s changed. By then maybe you’ll feel like a drink.”

  Ben knew they’d end up at the bar. Like it or not, he couldn’t resist Ross. He might as well exploit the help of the Feds—the problem was that Ben had trouble focusing on work with Ross so close.

  * * * *

  Ben kept checking his phone as Ross took in the changes. Some of the mom-and-pop places had closed. Others had taken their place.

  “The ice cream place is still here.” Ross grinned like a little kid.

  “Now they do a lot of fancy coffees to keep up, but yeah,” Ben said.

  Ross opened the door for Ben.

  Ben shoved his phone into his pocket. “Really?”

  “Come on, our first date,” Ross said.

  “Date? Here?” Ben walked inside. “Refresh my memory.”

  “Coach brought the team here after games when we won,” Ross replied.

  “How is that a date?” Ben asked.

  “I kissed you in the men’s room. You were trying to hide the tears from that nasty bruise. You got hit with a ball pretty hard. When you didn’t punch me after the kiss, I knew,” Ross said.

  “You caught me off guard. I’m not sure I knew at ten,” Ben argued.

  “I know—it took six more years to really get you alone and have fun, but it was worth the wait.” Ross smiled and walked up to the counter.

  They
ordered cones then kept walking down the main drag. Ben was too quiet.

  “Did I freak you out?” Ross asked.

  Ben shook his head. “I never told anyone about that kiss. Sometimes I thought I’d imagined it.”

  “Some people just know younger, I guess. It was a simpler time. Now kids are so complicated. Bi, pan or poly. I can’t believe how different it is,” Ross said.

  “The good part is they don’t have people telling them who they must be. My mom wanted me to say I was bi so many times, just to get Dad off my back or so she could hope I’d meet a girl,” Ben admitted.

  Ross reached for Ben’s hand, but he pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” Ross said.

  “I need to be taken seriously,” Ben said.

  “If you’re gay, you’re not serious?” Ross loosened his tie.

  “Everyone knows. Why do you have to make a show of it?” Ben answered the question with a question.

  “I’m not decked out in a rainbow suit singing show tunes or whatever cliché you fear. You should’ve gone away to college.” Ron tossed the remains of his melting ice cream into a nearby trash can.

  “Sure, student loan debt to get a degree I didn’t need for the job I have. Makes perfect sense.” Ben tossed his ice cream too.

  Ross grabbed Ben’s arm. “Sometimes you have to get away from where you grew up to see yourself through your own eyes. Without all the family filters. As a free and independent person. Viewing yourself through your dad’s eyes or through the town’s is limiting.”

  “Not everyone wants to be 007.” Ben turned and headed back in the direction of Ross’ car.

  “Bond is British, but I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to stay local. I wanted more options,” Ross explained.

  “I know, I’ve heard it all before. If that’s okay for you, this is okay for me,” Ben insisted.

  “I’m sorry. You have every right to your choice. I just think you’d view the world a bit differently if you’d ever lived anywhere else. Broaden your horizons,” Ross said.

  Ben stood by Ross’ car and tugged off the sports coat. “Too late now. You want to go to the bar or not?”