After Ben (8 page)

The thought of leaving Ben behind was almost as overwhelming as losing him in the first place.

Now that he’d had two weeks to think about it, Theo was glad he’d met Peter. Their timing might have been off, but at least it had been an opportunity to feel almost normal again, even if only for a few minutes. He was also glad that Peter had left right away. Getting off had been unexpected—needed, but still unexpected—but spending more time with the man seemed a step too far, a shade too soon.

Bypassing the weights, Theo finished his workout, showered, and headed for the office.

Maggie met him with coffee, a breakfast bar from the vending machine, and a pile of applications for their department’s intern spots. She talked him through her initial ordering of applicants, indicating which had some corporate experience, and which were majoring in a relevant field. She pointed at the tallest stack. “I wouldn’t usually include these as they don’t strictly meet the criteria, but….” She looked across at the row of empty cubicles. “It’s about to get real busy. If all they do is keep up with the copying and filing, does it really matter what they major in?”

Theo guessed not.

“If you read through this pile, I can call people in for interviews at the end of the week,” she told him. He nodded, then flipped through the first application quickly, sighing. Maggie regarded him for a moment, head tilted. “What’s up, boss?”

When Theo didn’t answer, Maggie perched on the table and waited. Eventually he apologized, dropped the paperwork back onto the table, and sagged in his seat.

“People keep talking to me at the gym.” He looked miserable. “It’s happening more and more often. I don’t understand. I used to be able to run, then leave. Now someone always wants to talk.” He huffed while Maggie smiled.

“Are you still listening to music while you work out?” Maggie asked.

Theo didn’t want to admit that he’d stopped. Since talking to Peter about the playlists that Ben had compiled for him, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to them anymore. He pictured himself pounding away on the treadmill, then getting caught out by an unexpected reminder of the past. Just the idea made his chest tight.

Maggie nudged his ankle. “If you don’t want to talk, wear your headphones.” She paused, scrutinizing his face for a moment, then nudged his ankle again until he made eye contact with her. “Are you sure that people have suddenly started talking to you?”

Theo thought for a moment. Maybe he’d been oblivious to all the greetings and smiles from other gym members before. He didn’t see how, but maybe he just hadn’t been paying attention.

Maggie passed the paperwork to him again. “Welcome back to the world, Theo.”

They got on with their short listing.

L
ATER
that evening he started a thread on the forum’s social board asking for recommendations for good running music. He was determined to load his iPod with new tunes, ones that wouldn’t stage sneak attacks on his emotions. Just an hour later he had a huge list of suggestions.

Half an hour after that he was back on the forum.

THEO: iTunes has beaten me.

Morgan sent him a private message almost immediately, mocking him furiously, and generally making Theo feel dumb. He named music download sites and software that he had never heard of.

It was all too confusing. Ben took care of this shit.

MORGAN: What’s your e-mail addy? I’ll talk you through it.

Once Theo had figured out how his e-mail provider’s chat function operated, Morgan took over his whole evening. Without the buffer of the forum’s private messaging system to slow down their conversation, Morgan’s wit was lightning fast and lethal. He talked Theo through loading some new music, then slammed the other members’ suggestions. When he sent Theo a link to a file-sharing site, Theo balked.

THEO: I’m almost certain that’s illegal.

MORGAN: Oh yeah, by the way, I’m chatting to you from the King County Correctional Facility.

Morgan thought he was so funny naming a city lockup. Theo sniffed, then asked for song suggestions he could purchase legally instead. They were in the middle of a conversation about live music—Ben always adored gigs, little gatherings in smoky bars back when bars still used to be smoky, even stadium concerts—when Morgan interrupted, saying that his boyfriend was back.

Just a week before, Theo had found himself wondering if Morgan was female. For some reason the ambiguity of his unisex name hadn’t struck Theo until Morgan had replied to a thread about relationships.

Someone was giving a relative newbie a hard time about his or her relationship problems. Theo was still boggled by the level of painfully personal detail people chose to share without hesitation on the Internet. Morgan had waded fearlessly into the middle of their argument. People should, according to him, walk a fucking mile before judging. How did anyone on the net know what went on in other people’s private lives?

MORGAN: For all you know, my boyfriend could be a complete nightmare.

From the comfort of his couch, Theo had dwelled on the word “boyfriend.” Statistically, he guessed it was so much more likely that Morgan was female. Theo worried for a while that maybe his forum friend was having real boyfriend issues—the word nightmare seemed ominous—until discovering for certain that he was male, feeling a little reassured that he wasn’t some damsel in distress.

In a later debate about Seattle nightlife, Morgan listed the pros and cons of each and every gay bar Theo had heard of, and some which were new to him. None of them were ever his scene, but at least the discussion gave him a solid clue. Morgan was good company, male or female, but finding out that he was a gay man too made their online friendship easier.

The next morning he ran for miles in blissful solitude in the middle of the busy gym, head full of a band he’d never heard of before, whose music made a winter’s run on a gray Seattle morning seem like California in the early summer. Logging into his personal e-mail at work during lunchtime, Theo took a moment to thank Morgan.

THEO: I love that band. Best run ever. Thanks!

MORGAN: You might as well give in already. Accept it, Theo. I know what’s best for you.

Smiling, he got back to work. As he and Maggie sorted through the last of the intern applications, Theo moved a heavy box of old files and felt a twinge in his back.

“Oh, no.” Maggie turned just in time to see Theo’s face crease in agony.

They spent the afternoon at the local urgent care where, in between x-rays and manipulation which made him puke, Theo described how a football injury in his teens periodically came back to haunt him. In fact, his mother’s first face-to-face meeting with Ben had come about as a direct result of Theo’s back locking up.

Ben had been a whirlwind of energy as he helped Theo to pack up his old college life. Then he talked nearly nonstop all the way up to Seattle. He was so excitable that he was outrageous, his delight at setting up their first real home together lighting him up from the inside. He grinned at Theo repeatedly from the driver’s seat, gazing over the top of his sunglasses, so fucking happy. They both had been.

They unloaded their rented truck quickly, and all had been well at first. The one-bedroom apartment was exactly as advertised, which was a relief.

His mother had been a little upset that he hadn’t moved back home while he settled into his new job. She didn’t seem to believe that “moving in with my boyfriend” meant exactly that. Perhaps she had chosen to think that Ben was a roommate, just like those he had had in his early college years. When Ben had called her, his husky Italian accent thicker than usual due to panic over Theo’s sudden excruciating post-couch-moving pain, she drove over immediately.

Theo remembered the way she had moved around their little apartment, as if she didn’t want to touch anything, her face blank, arms crossed tightly. He accepted the medication she’d picked up on her way over as well as the icepack and heat pads she’d kept after his previous episodes, then slipped back into a haze of pain for a while, half aware of almost angry voices in the background.

After the medication kicked in, Theo had opened his screwed-shut eyes to find Ben’s face just inches away. He looked absolutely miserable. Theo hadn’t ever seen him so unhappy. He tried to explain that he would be okay, that there wasn’t anything to stress over now that he had some effective pain relief. Ben just shook his head, then tried really hard to smile, saying that Theo’s mother would return in the morning with more medication. He didn’t look happy about that.

“Did you tell her how old I was,
tesoro
?”

“Probably. Why?” His breath catching as pain spiked when he shifted in bed, Theo had found it tough to concentrate.

“I think she wonders what an old man like me is doing with her little boy.” Theo waited for Ben to laugh. “She seemed upset, Theo, and a little confused. I think she expected me to be your age.”

Looking back, Theo regretted that their first meeting had gone badly. It had set the tone for the next fifteen years. He often wondered if things would have been different if he’d been able to act as a translator between the people who loved him. He would have mentioned the age gap before, only it hadn’t seemed necessary. After all, it was only nine years. They were a perfect match and blissfully happy. Surely that was all that mattered?

Since meeting in Milan—Theo had been crossing a street, and Ben had almost run him over—they’d been inseparable. Ben had quickly arranged to carry out his business from the US, and the paperwork had been relatively straightforward. Surprisingly so. In fact, every aspect of their first year together had seemed charmed.

But when Theo’s mom had returned the next day while Ben was out grocery shopping, she looked hurt.

“Why didn’t you mention that your friend was so… mature, darling?”

Theo blinked. Mature wouldn’t have been his first word choice.

Neither would friend.

“We’re very happy together, Mom.” Stretched out along the couch, he watched as she moved around their new apartment, emptying boxes and placing the contents thoughtfully on the built-in shelves and windowsills.

She examined books as she unpacked before placing them along a shelf, stopping from time to time to sort them into alphabetical order. “Even so, he’s—” Theo watched her search for just the right descriptors, “—obviously much older than you, darling.”

Theo disagreed.

Ben was youthful in ways that he found so attractive. He was perpetually inquisitive, believing there was a story behind everything and everyone, refusing to stop his rapid-fire questions until he understood people from the inside out. They shared so many noisy evenings full of silly games and laughter with their friends.

So many.

But that all came later.

When they had first started to live together, his mother’s presence was a downer, and his father didn’t alleviate the situation any, although Theo knew he meant well. He seemed compelled to discuss world events that Ben might recall of which Theo had no memory. They never understood, not for a single moment, that Ben was so much younger in spirit. He was energetic, enthusiastic, and obsessed with new technology. He was almost five feet ten inches of concentrated, wiry Italian passion, which could be tiring to live with sometimes, Theo remembered with a smile.

Ben coasted through his forties, looking more handsome—like a movie star—with each passing birthday party, and Theo couldn’t believe his fucking luck.

But a conversation about Ben’s positive qualities was impossible to even begin with his mom back then. She wouldn’t overtly say why she took issue with him, apart from the fact that Ben was older. That was her complete definition. It was all she saw. She didn’t see Ben as kind or gentle, or as warm-hearted and friendly. He was too old for her only boy, even when Theo was well into his thirties.

It had been, Theo thought, a fucking shame.

As it was, his mom had unpacked while Theo was laid up with his back problem, then later watched with her arms tightly crossed again as Ben rearranged her work, artfully making his display of travel souvenirs look inviting instead of regimented and ordered. Theo lay in a fog of pain, trying desperately to find the words to stop his partner’s actions, but nerves made Ben excitable, and he launched into a staccato description of the neighborhood stores, not leaving a gap for anyone else to contribute.

This too was normal behavior for Ben. In a family as large and as loud as his, it was a case of speak fast or don’t even start. Theo’s first experience of Ben’s family had nearly left him in shock. So, Ben chatted enthusiastically about the store he had found that stocked delicious cheeses and olives, and how friendly the owner had been. He made friends so easily, instantly, but Theo’s mom had nothing to contribute to the conversation.

Theo guessed they would never get along.

He was correct.

There had been so much more than an age gap dividing Ben and his mom.

He thought back to that time when his back went out again in the office. Maggie drove him home from urgent care, then helped him into his apartment. She suggested calling his parents, but Theo declined. He knew he was going to have a miserable few days, and there was no point adding his parents into the mix, especially as they’d parted on relatively good terms after his recent visit. All it would take, Theo knew, was his mother moving something of Ben’s for him to lose his shit.

Pain, and fifteen years of sadness at the way she couldn’t see the good in his partner, would make him lose his temper far too easily. So Theo declined, then let Maggie support him as he made his way into his bedroom, where he sat on the bed and tried, unsuccessfully, to take off his shoes.

“This wasn’t in my job description, you know.” Maggie knelt between his legs, tugging at his laces. “I’m sure I would have remembered.” She smiled up at him, then said, “You know this is a lawsuit waiting to happen, right?” Theo tried really hard to smile, but the pain wouldn’t let him.

Maggie helped him to the bathroom, then left him while she got his prescription filled. When she returned, letting herself in with the spare key, she fixed him up for the night.