Rum & Ginger (12 page)

“Don’t do that, Derek.” Ben reached across the picnic table to touch Derek’s hand but pulled up short, thinking better of it. “You’re really not that cocky, insensitive kid from high school anymore. You should stop punishing yourself for the ignorance of your youth.”

“You’re a good guy, Benny. Thanks, man.” Derek did reach across the table and patted Ben’s hand, but that was all. “Come on.” Derek stood. “Let’s go check out my flat screen. I got a shit ton of movies. You seen the latest
Dark Knight
?”

“Yeah, but I could watch it again,” Ben answered, following Derek through the sliding glass doors and into the house he’d soon be moving into.

B
EN
JERKED
awake to his phone’s alarm. His mouth was dry, and his head was just on the verge of pounding. He put the foot prop on the recliner down and rose, scratching a hand through his hair and yawning. He winced at being vertical and walked to Derek’s kitchen. Ben drew himself a large glass of water. He drank it greedily and filled a second. He drank the next glass a little slower.

Ben walked back to the recliner and looked at his phone. He saw at least ten messages from Chance among his e-mail and Facebook notifications. He suddenly felt regret and a little guilt at what he was planning. Then he remembered Chuck using Chance’s nickname and Chance’s digital liaisons with Chuck and his avatar. It renewed Ben’s resolve.

He’d texted Lena around midnight and got no response. Ben flicked through his notices. Lena had returned his call around three. He slid the lock on the touchscreen and listened to the message.

“What? Ben-Ben, are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Lena’s voice trailed off, mumbling. Then she said, “I’ll fuckin’ be there, dammit,” and ended the call. He sent her a text asking if she were awake. She returned almost instantly with affirmative profanity. They agreed to meet at the old house in fifteen minutes.

Ben debated on waking Derek up but decided against it when he heard the other man’s alarm sounding, followed by a loud and obviously annoyed bellow. Ben heard a crash before he grabbed his keys and decided to swing by the liquor store and grab some boxes on his way to meet Lena.

He pulled up out front of the house that used to be his home with a dozen donuts, twice as many cardboard boxes, and two cups of coffee. Lena sat on the hood of her car, her phone in hand and dark sunglasses over her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Ben-Ben, you couldn’t do this at a decent hour?”

“I brought you coffee,” Ben said as he held up the cup carrier. “And donuts.”

“Give,” Lena snapped, reaching for the treats. “You should have gotten an extra coffee, though.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, and Ben noticed for the first time that someone else sat in her car.

“Hey,” Brodie called as he stepped out. “We brought garbage bags.” He waved the package.

“Brodie?” Ben squawked. “What, what are you doing here?” Ben hadn’t expected this at all. Guilt grabbed his heart and squeezed. He wasn’t leaving Chance for Brodie, but it felt like it, even though he hadn’t invited the young bartender.

“Lena was at Mike’s when she saw your text. She told me what was going on today, and I volunteered,” Brodie explained with a broad smile.

“Wow. Thanks,” Ben said.

“Don’t mention it. What are friends for?” Brodie asked, squeezing Ben’s shoulder.

It occurred to Ben that he had a lot more friends than he’d originally thought. “Well. We might as well get started. My shit isn’t going to pack itself.”

T
HE
MORNING
passed in comfortable conversation that almost wasn’t forced as they packed all Ben’s worldly possessions. Ben constantly looked over his friends’ shoulders to make sure they weren’t taking anything that belonged to Chance. It wasn’t easy. The longer he and Chance had lived together, the more their lives had blended and the more their possessions had blended. Ben didn’t want to take things he knew Chance valued, even if Ben had purchased them. He really didn’t want to make this any more unpleasant than it already was.

“What about the DVDs?” Brodie asked. “Which ones are yours and which are his?”

“Eh, it’s not quite that easy,” Ben replied. “Let’s see what’s here.” It took Ben and Brodie an hour to sort through the discs. Ben wasn’t sure how to split them up but erred in Chance’s favor. If there was anything Ben really wanted to own, he could buy it again. The
Next Generation
DVDs were the hardest. Ben and Chance had accumulated the
Star Trek
set as a couple. Ben couldn’t take them. He also left some of the obscure discs they’d bought at conventions, like the
Star Wars Holiday Special
and the never released
Fantastic Four
movie with Jay Underwood as the Human Torch. Ben couldn’t relinquish
The Tick
tapes. He’d recorded them all himself. He actually kept most of his VHS tapes. He couldn’t imagine giving up the Nick Fury made-for-TV movie starring David Hasselhoff as the superspy.

Lena drifted off on her own. She knew what belonged to Ben and what belonged to Chance. He wasn’t too worried that she’d overstep their bounds. Soon she descended the stairs with two garbage bags full of Ben’s clothing. Ben sat at Chance’s computer. He was transferring his personal files to a thumb drive. “I think we’re just about done,” Lena said, dropping the bags in the living room.

“You’re not taking any furniture?” Brodie asked.

“Nah.” Ben shook his head as he deleted files. “Derek’s guest room is furnished. Some of this stuff I bought, but I’m not really attached to it.” He spared a look around the first floor. His gaze paused on a bench that was stained black with weird paintings of birds and fruit. “That bench is mine.” Ben nodded toward it.

Brodie looked around. He walked over to the bench. It was covered in books. “This thing?” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s kind of tacky.”

“My grandfather built it. And painted it. I know it’s weird, but I love it.” Ben explained without looking up from the monitor.

“Oh shit. Shit. Ben, I’m sorry.” Brodie’s voice sounded wounded.

“No. It’s okay. It is tacky, but I love it. I’ve had it forever. Since I was a little kid,” Ben said.

“I know what you mean,” Brodie responded. “I have this tiny little rocking chair. It’s bright red with green cushions, and there are yellow daisies painted on it. I can’t sit in it anymore, but I’ll never get rid of it.”

“I have a weirdy, calico elephant that my great-grandmother sewed for me when I was just born. It’s all threadbare and kitschy, but I love it,” Lena added.

“The one on your dresser? You call it weirdy?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. That awful orange-and-green thing.” Lena nodded with a wistful smile.

“I love that thing.” Ben chuckled. “I always wondered where you got it.” No one spoke for a few moments, reminiscing about their embarrassing family heirlooms and realizing they weren’t embarrassing at all.

“We’re just a bunch of dorks,” Lena observed.

“Oh well. Dorks rock.” Ben shrugged.

“Yeah. Viva la Dorks,” Brodie added. “It doesn’t mean we’re not awesome.”

“Yes it does,” Ben answered. “But who cares?”

“Not me,” Lena said.

“Nor me,” Brodie agreed.

“Let’s get the rest of this stuff packed,” Ben said, rousing them from their reveries. Without another word, they nodded and got back to work.

T
HEY
HADN
’
T
been working long when Ben heard a car pull up out front. He figured Derek had finally risen from his alcohol-fueled sleep and had decided to join them. Ben jogged down the steps, ready to give Derek shit for showing up when they’d all but finished. But who he saw stepping through the front door made his blood run cold as ice.

Chance looked around, the color draining quickly from his face. “What the fuck is going on here, Ben?” he yelled.

“Chance,” Ben started. He tried to think of how to proceed.

“Yeah. What’s all this shit? Who the hell are these people?” Chance threw aside his messenger bag, knocking over a vase filled with dry flowers.

“Calm down, Chance,” Ben pleaded as the others entered to see what the commotion was.

“Why should I calm down? What are you doing? Where is everything?” Chance stomped around the room as he asked the questions. His gaze darted at the sudden audience and he stopped talking.

Ben waved his friends out. He waited for them to exit before continuing. “I’m moving out, Chance.” Ben looked Chance directly in the eyes as he spoke. Their gazes locked for a moment before Ben knelt to clean up the broken glass.

“Ben. Ben, you can’t,” Chance whispered, just loud enough for Ben to hear.

“It’s too late. I did. It’s done.”

“No. It’s not too late. I apologized. We can work through this.” Chance reached for Ben, but Ben only walked into the kitchen with the shards of glass. While he was there, he searched beneath the sink for the brush and dustpan. “Ben, come on. This isn’t funny.”

“No. I agree,” Ben said and swept up the tiny pieces of glass. “This isn’t funny. But I’ve made up my mind. I’m done. You lied to me. About a lot of things. But even before that, I don’t think we were going anywhere.”

“Ben, don’t. Stay. I made a mistake.” Chance moved his arms like he was going to touch Ben but stopped himself.

“I don’t think you did.” Ben finished sweeping up the glass. He took the dustpan to the waste can and tipped it in.

“What do you mean?” Chance asked when Ben got back.

“What I said. I don’t think you made a mistake. I think this Charlie makes you happy.”

“Chuck,” Chance mumbled.

“Chuck, whatever. I think he makes you happy, and that’s great. He seems happy to pretend to be something he isn’t. You should follow that. We’ve shared something that no one can ever take away from us, but it’s not what it once was. It’s time for us to move on to the next phase of our lives. It took me a long time to realize that, but now that I have, I feel good.” Ben waited for Chance’s response. Chance simply stood there. So did everyone else just outside, Ben noticed. It was more than awkward.

“What about the house?” Chance asked, his gaze darting around the room.

Ben gritted his teeth against a sudden flash of irrational anger. Here they stood ending years of a relationship, and Chance’s main concern was his house. Ben tried to keep his tone even when he answered. “What
about
the house, Chance? This house was always your dream, not mine. You know what my dream is, and it doesn’t fit with your plan.”

Chance didn’t respond at first, just stood there chewing his bottom lip. Ben could see Chance’s eyes sparkling with tears, and he suddenly felt like he was making a horrible mistake. “I—I—” Chance stammered. Ben could hear the lump in his ex-boyfriend’s throat. “I’m sorry,” Chance finally managed. “I know it’s too late. But I really am sorry.”

Ben stepped over to Chance and put his arms around the other man. Chance accepted the embrace fully and let the tears fall on Ben’s shoulder. Ben could feel tears in his own eyes now, and he fought them. He’d let them come at some point but not now, not here. “You know what upsets me the most?” Ben whispered the words into Chance’s hair. Chance didn’t respond, just shook his head against Ben’s shoulder. “I could never tell anyone that I loved you, that you were my boyfriend. And now it’s too late.” Ben’s breath hitched in his throat.

They stood there for what seemed a very long time, embracing in the living room that once belonged to both of them and was now just Chance’s. It was strange. Ben already felt like a stranger in this place, like an outsider. He wanted to break the embrace like he had the relationship, but he couldn’t bring himself to take that much more away from Chance today. Ben would just have to wait until Chance was ready.

“You should go,” Chance said as he straightened, wiping his eyes and reaching for a tissue. “Your friends are waiting for you.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Ben asked.

“I’ll be fine. Eventually.” Chance turned away and walked toward the kitchen. He turned back suddenly. “Where are you going to stay?”

Ben opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. “Um.”

“For your mail,” Chance rushed to explain.

“Right.” Ben nodded. “I’m staying with Derek.”

“What?” Chance barked. “Derek? Not the mohawk boy?”

“What?” Ben asked. “Derek has a guest suite. It’s like a whole separate apartment in his basement. He said I could stay there ’til I found a place. Why would I be staying with Brodie?”

“Oh. Oh, I don’t know. I just thought you two were….” Chance trailed off.

Ben’s initial reaction was to say something snarky about not cheating on Chance, but he chose to swallow the insult. “No. He’s cute, but we’re just friends.”

“For now,” Chance mumbled as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben asked, his anger rising again.

“Well, it’s obvious you like him,” Chance grumbled. “If anyone could tell, it would be me.”