* * * * *
“Don’t be mad atme.”
Tim looked up from thepainting he was working on, surprised by the figure standing in thedoorway. Any visitor was unusual. Since he had bought the shed andconverted it to a studio with William’s help, it had become aprivate sanctuary. Ben occasionally poked his head in, asking if hewas hungry or to let him know he was going somewhere. More often hetexted, not wanting to disturb Tim’s work. This was beneficial tohis art, since interruptions could throw him off, although thecurrent visitor was just what he needed.
“Stay there,” he said toJason, eyes darting over the silhouette of a body framed by outsidelight. He was tempted to take a photo, but that felt like cheating.Instead he checked the canvas. The painting was of Jason, standingmuch like he was now. William was down on one knee, holding up alife-saving medallion instead of a ring. The backdrop was anairport rather than their yard where the proposal had actuallytaken place. Tim wanted to superimpose the two events. The securitycheckpoint was represented by lifeless gray lines, the impassivecrowd of travelers a blur of color moving around the only twostatic figures. “One more second,” he said, looking up again andmaking a quick adjustment. “Okay.”
Jason came the rest of theway inside, closing the door behind him. He looked around thespace, no doubt taking in the mess of canvases, paint tubes, anddrop cloths, but hey, that’s what a studio was for. Behind him wasthe loveseat where Tim sometimes napped and a giant set offlat-file cabinets where he kept his best work. Jason moved closer,already straining his neck to see what he was working on, but Timheld up a hand to ward him off.
“Uh-uh. You know I don’tlet anyone see a work in progress.”
Jason rolled his eyes andsmiled, but worry soon weighed down his expression. “I need you totell Ben something for me.”
Tim set his brush aside.“Why?”
“Because you know how. Andbecause it’s easier to tell you because you’re not perfect like heis. No offense.”
“None taken,” Tim saidwith a chuckle. “For the record, Ben isn’t perfect. He just looksthat way when compared to me.” The joke fell flat, the worriedexpression persisting, so he added, “What’s going on?”
Jason broke eye contact. “I wrote William aletter.”
Tim let this sink in. Heconsidered different possibilities, but only one seemed likely.“You’re bailing on your plans?”
His son nodded.
“Jason! Why?”
“Because!” Jason shotback, voice terse. “He’s where he needs to be and so amI!”
Tim took a few deepbreaths and shook his head. “You’re not. You really aren’t. Youmight have a good life here, but—”
“It’s you,” Jason said,voice croaking. “And Ben. That’s who I belong with.”
“Really?” Tim hated to doit, but he couldn’t think of any better way of making his point. Hegrabbed the easel and turned it around so Jason could see thecanvas. The bright blue eyes widened, then filled with tears.“That’s who you belong with. Maybe not forever. Some relationshipslast, others don’t, but until you’ve given it a shot, I bet youwon’t be happy.”
Jason shook his head. “You don’tunderstand.”
“I do about this, becauseI was dumb enough to say goodbye to Ben once, and I spent a longtime regretting that decision. Don’t make the samemistake.”
“It’s more complicatedthan that,” Jason said, trying to glare his tears out ofexistence.
“Then we’ll figure itout,” Tim said. “Together. Until then, don’t send theletter.”
Jason continued to glower. “I already did.Last week.”
“Do you know if he’sgotten it?”
Jason nodded sullenly,pulled out his phone, and held it up. Tim came closer to read thescreen. The most recent text from William was short.
Four years.
Tim sighed. He had alreadywatched Jason go through a period of separation that long and hadseen how miserable it made him. The clouds only disappeared whenWilliam returned for brief visits. Even when Jason had tried tomove on, and seemed to, he wasn’t as happy. Not like he’d beenduring their most recent time together.
“We need to talk to Benabout this.”
Jason nodded. “I couldn’t figure out how totell him. I figured… You’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Thanks!”