“It’snot stalking,” Tim said. “It’s chaperoning. From a distance.” Helooked at Ben. “What do you think?”
“ThatI’ll need to call work and get time off!” he said, because all ofthis was news to him. It was a good surprise though. “I finally getto see Japan?”
Tim grinned. “Yup! And Iget to see it without missing you this time, so it’ll be a newexperience for us all.”
“This is how it’s supposedto be,” Jason said, looking emotional. “We’re meant to be togetherlike this. I know it’s not practical right now, but maybe when weall retire?”
“I could imagine a littlecabin somewhere in Oregon,” Tim said.
“A bigcabin,” Ben corrected, “so there’s room foreverybody.”
“Andwe’ll spend our final days there together,” William said, tonewarm. “We could agree on it now.”
“Like apact,” Tim said. He stretched out his arm so his hand was above thetable. “Who’s in?”
“I am.”Ben placed his on top of Tim’s. “It’s an easy promise tomake.”
“I agree,” William said,adding his hand to the pile.
“One big happy family,”Jason said, eyes watery as he looked to each of them. Then heplaced his hand on top of William’s. “Together until the veryend.”
* * * * *
Ben stood outside on thepatio, his back pressed against the house so he wouldn’t get wet.The rain had reduced to a drizzle. Many of the guests had left, butthere were still plenty in the house, the vibe getting rowdy.Spirits were high as more and more spirits were consumed. He likedthat, but it felt good to slip outside for a break. He wanted toremember the details of this day, so he went over each, committingthem to memory.
The solitude didn’t last.Ben heard the gate open and slam shut again. Seconds later, a dogdarted across the grass. A Siberian husky. The dog noticed him,skidded to a halt, then sprinted over, tail wagging and nosesniffing.
“Zero!” a voice calledout. “Leave him alone!”
The dog looked over at itsowner, then took off for the far yard.
Ben laughed and watchedhim run before facing the owner. Nathaniel was one of Marcello’screw, and one of Tim’s friends, he supposed. The two didn’t hangout all that often, but when they did, they got alongwell.
“How’s it going?”Nathaniel said, joining him on the patio. “Sorry aboutthat.”
“It’s fine,” Ben said.“It’s always good to have animals around. They’re sort of likechildren. You can get away with more when they’re in the room. Ifadult conversation is boring you, go play with the kids. Whenyou’re done, people will act like you performed some sacrifice byhaving fun with them.”
“And dogs?”
“They’rea good excuse to step outside for some fresh air. It’s either that,or start smoking. I know which I prefer.”
“I likethe way you think,” Nathaniel said. “Just don’t let him jump on youwhen he comes back. Muddy paws. I came prepared, but there’s onlyso much a towel can do.” He held it up.
Ben glanced at it and awayagain. Then he did a double take. The towel was red and black withthe head of a braying mule in the center. He only recognized itbecause Jace had owned a T-shirt with the same design. Jace neverwore the shirt, but he also hadn’t wanted to throw it away, sinceit had been a gift. After enough years of it hanging in the closet,Ben had tossed it in a bag destined for Goodwill. “Is that fromCMSU?” he asked.
“UCMthese days,” Nathaniel said. “No idea why they changed the name.You into college sports?”
Ben shook his head,watching as Zero ran back and forth across the lawn in animpressive display of stamina. “My husband grew up in Missouri. Myfirst husband, I mean. Widowed, not divorced.” He felt the need toadd that sometimes, just so people understood that he and Jacehadn’t called it quits.
“Sorry to hear that,”Nathaniel said.
“That hepassed away, or that he grew up in Warrensburg?”
Nathaniel eyed him,hopefully taking note of the lofty tone. “Both, if I’mhonest.”
Ben laughed. “Small townscan be boring, but they also have their charm.”
“Everbeen there?”