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Jay Bell

Something Like Summer

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  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    Dueling with mad magicians, battling possessed beasts, and surviving endless hostile landscapes? Easy. Loving someone you weren't supposed to? That was hard.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    He rubbed up against him affectionately before doing the same to Ben. He looked at the pair of them, purred, and hopped back on the couch to continue his nap.

    Maybe it would be okay.

    Ben turned to point out the painting, but it wasn’t there. Something new hung in its place. In a way, it was the very same piece of art that Tim had given him all those years ago, but realized in his new style. Instead of two hearts, there were now two hands clutching at each other. One was strong with thick fingers, the digits of the other thin and fair. Ben raised his own hand in amazement, recognizing the second as his own. Tim had captured its likeness perfectly.

    The hands were bathed in radiant light, incorporating the exact colors of the old painting. This was a message perfected, an expression of what Tim felt for Ben, but this time unhindered by fear and free of uncertainty. Ben stared at it, feeling as though he had finally heard the words from Tim that he had so longed for.

    Tim reached over and took Ben’s hand, positioning it in his own so that they matched the painting. “I love you, Benjamin Bentley,” he said. “I should have told you that twelve years ago. I’ve always loved you.”

    All his doubts, every fear, even the smallest insecurity inside Ben gave way to the unstoppable, immutable, uncompromising force that is love.

    “What now?” Ben asked.

    “Now we start over.”

    Tim leaned forward for a kiss, eyes dancing with hope and affection. Ben regarded him for a moment, seeing only the cocky teenager he had once dared to love, even though it had always been against the odds. Then Ben closed his eyes and leaned forward.

    And so they began again.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    “I thought it was really good,” Ben said, grinning when Tim turned bright red.

    “I thought for a second that Allison had changed her mind.”

    “Where is she anyway?” Ben asked.

    “Running an errand for me,” Tim said enigmatically. “Hey, have you seen much of the paintings?”

    “A little,” Ben replied, “but a tour from the artist himself would be very informative.”

    Tim guided him around the gallery, usually zigzagging from room to room and moving in a counterintuitive fashion. One painting would remind him of another, causing him to drag Ben off in a completely different direction.

    Seeing Tim so enthusiastic about his work was amazing. He wasn’t shy at all in front of the large number of people examining his art and listening in on his explanations. Occasionally a bystander would ask a question, which Tim would answer with gusto. This was a stark contrast to the self-depreciative artist who had once kept his paintings locked away in a garage.

    “There’s one more piece I’d like to show you,” Tim said. “Something really special to me.”

    Ben was led through the gallery to a room not intended for the public, and out a door to the parking lot. Spotting Tim’s car was easy enough. It was the newest, shiniest car there.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    Ben tried to roll his eyes but ended up smiling instead.

    As they began to drive, Ben started to feel concerned. As happy as he was to see Tim again and as irrefutable as his feelings for him were, Ben was still married, even if only to a ghost in his heart. Going home with Tim tonight didn’t feel right. It was all too soon, if there would ever be a right time at all. He was about to ask to be taken back to the gallery when the car turned into Ben’s subdivision. Could Tim really know where he lived? He kept silent, not giving any indication, but still Tim managed to pull into the right driveway.

    “What are we doing here?” Ben asked.

    “I wanted to show you a special painting of mine,” Tim said.

    “You mean the one you gave me for my birthday,” Ben said, catching on. He couldn’t help but swoon a little at the romantic notion. “You can’t have it back you know,” he said in mock seriousness.

    Tim merely smiled and stepped out of the car. “Lead the way,” he said.

    Well, at least Tim didn’t have a key to his house already! Ben led them to the living room and turned on the light. Samson woke up from his favorite place on the couch and blinked at them. He was getting on in years and was a bit raggedy, but he still had a lot of spunk. Ben felt a momentary surge of guilt and looked over at Jace in his frame. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all.

    “Jace--” Ben began.

    “--was a good man,” Tim continued for him. “The best, in fact. I would never dishonor his memory and I will never, ever be able to replace him. No one could.”
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    And there he was. Tim Wyman. He looked fantastic. The pudginess was gone from his belly, the tight dress shirt revealing the all-too-perfect physique that Tim had before meeting Ryan. His jet black hair had grown out some and was styled messily around the silver eyes that no longer looked tired. Instead they shone with a light that Ben had only seen in their most private moments. Those eyes were searching the crowd, but before they found Ben, the portly woman had shifted back, obscuring him from view.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    Knowing Allison, she had only chosen this dive so they could sing together, which was fine by him. They picked over their greasy meals before abandoning them for the stage, where they crooned a number of their favorite songs together.

    They continued singing in the car on the way to their next destination. Ben suspected they were going to hit a few clubs, but Allison drove them downtown to Second Street. She found a free parking spot, acting as if she had just won the lottery. Ben had to chuckle, envying her enthusiasm. They walked together for a few blocks until they approached an art gallery where people flittered in and out.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    Ben accepted it from her with suspicion. “No blind dates?” he asked again.

    Allison smiled broadly, and Ben knew it was too late. He took the gum anyway. Ben scanned the people standing outside the gallery, looking for someone who seemed particularly expectant or nervous. He didn’t spot anyone.

    “We’re here to look at the art,” Allison said innocently.

    Ben glanced through the nearest window and away again, before doing a double take. The painting on the nearest wall was of a bulldog, bounding through a canvas glowing with iridescent colors. Emotion raced through his system, centered in his chest and nestled there comfortably, glad to be home again after so many years.

    “Want to go inside?” Allison asked gently.

    “I don’t know if I can handle this,” Ben confessed.

    “I’ll sort of make you anyway,” Allison whispered.

    “Okay,” Ben laughed nervously. “Is he-- No, don’t tell me. Let’s just look at the art.”

    They browsed through the gallery, Ben trying to focus on only the paintings, but his head whipped around every few seconds in an attempt to spot the artist. He recognized some of the paintings from their younger days. Others he had never seen before, pieces from a life that he hadn’t been a part of. One was beyond simple, a finger-painted frog on a box of some sort, that caused Ben to laugh despite his nervousness. And then there was the portrait of Eric, completed now and glorious in its beauty. A small crowd of admirers surrounded it.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    Ben had finally broken through to the front, but was so far to the side that he was beyond Tim’s peripheral vision. At least he could see him now, nervously shifting from foot to foot while mumbling into the microphone.

    “I owe this art to a lot of people. The subjects in each piece, of course. My dog Chinchilla, or Eric, who was a father, a hero, and much more to me. Even strangers, like the old woman I saw lying in the grass at the park, staring up at the clouds and giggling like a little girl at what she saw there.” Tim paused, searching the crowd again. “So many people have inspired me, but only one gave me the courage to show what I had painted to other people. I hope he’s here somewhere tonight, and as I finish this clumsy speech, I’d like you all to clap for him, not for me. Thank you, most of all, to Benjamin Bentley.”

    The audience burst into applause. Ben blushed, even though he was effectively incognito. Tim turned off the mic and gave a little bow, and people slowly began to disperse. Some remained behind to talk to the artist. Ben watched them with envy. How easily they could walk up to Tim without being overwhelmed with a decade’s worth of feelings.

    Tim chatted politely, shook hands, listened, nodded, and all the other gestures a gracious host was supposed to make. Occasionally he would risk looking away from them to search the room again, looking slightly more disappointed with each failure. Nerves buzzing, Ben walked to the center of the room where he could easily be seen.

    Tim nodded and said goodbye to an elderly gentleman, and tried again. This time he found Ben, and without the slightest reservation, ran to him and scooped him up into his arms.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    “You can pull it off, and there will be more colorfully dressed people where we are going.”

    “I wish you would tell me where that is,” Ben complained.

    “But that would ruin our secret romantic mystery date!”

    “Stop calling it that,” Ben scolded.

    “I need a date!” Allison pouted. “They never seem to happen when you’re married.”

    “Take that up with Brian,” Ben said as he ducked into the bedroom to find his jacket.

    “You could use a date too, you know,” Allison said when he returned. “It’s been two years,” she added as delicately as possible.
  • Thomas Everett Vanderboomhar citeretfor 9 måneder siden
    “No blind date?”

    “Not blind, deaf, amputated, or anything else. It’s just me and you going out for a night on the town. Promise.”

    Ben eyed her a moment longer before feeling satisfied. He glanced over at the framed photo of Jace on the end table. The full-length shot showed Jace sharply dressed in his flight attendant uniform, every detail immaculate from the white starched collar down to his pointed shoes.

    Ben smiled. He had grown tired of Jace’s name being synonymous with sorrow. No longer would he tarnish his memory. Jace had gone out of his way to make him happy and it wouldn’t please him to see Ben moping around. The memories they had made together were all that was left, and these days Ben tried his best to find joy in them.
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