Page 76 of Something Like Forever
“Celebrating,” Ben saidlamely.
Marcello looked past himto the mug of tea that was still steeping. “I see. If you don’tmind me making a suggestion?” He moved past Ben to the refrigeratorand opened the door, but the shelf he looked to was empty.“Ah.”
“Sorry,” Ben said. “Tim’sthe one who always restocks the champagne.”
“His absence continues totake a toll on us both, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,”Ben admitted. “It does. I think a bottle might be in thecupboard.”
“Roomtemperature?” Marcello asked. Then he shook his jowls. “No, we’releft with little choice but to seek our fortunes elsewhere. It justso happens that I have a table reserved at one of my favoriterestaurants. Comfortable despite the exquisite offerings. I do sohate dining alone. Won’t you join me?”
Ben smiled. Birthdaysaved! Marcello was good company, so of course he agreed. Bendidn’t even have to drive. He rode in absolute comfort in some sortof fancy car that Tim had drooled over previously. Multiple times.That made Ben feel closer to him, as did spending time with Tim’sbest friend. They arrived at a parking lot with plenty of emptyspaces. There didn’t seem to be much worth parking for.
“Thiswas one of Eric’s favorite restaurants,” Marcello explained oncethey were out of the car. He walked them toward a glass door tintedso dark that the interior of the building was obscured. Only astencil of a garlic bulb hinted at anything beyond. “I don’tsuppose Tim ever brought you here?”
“Never,” Ben said. “Idon’t know if he even mentioned it to me.” He stopped just as theyreached the curb. “Maybe for a reason. Do you think it’s tooprivate? If this was their special place…”
“What’s more likely,” Marcello said, urginghim forward with a hand on his lower back, “is that Tim worried hewouldn’t be able to secure a reservation. Thisrestaurantisrather exclusive. I have a feeling he would wantyou to experience it on such a grandiose occasion.”
“Is that more than aneducated guess?”
Marcello’s smile was justenigmatic enough to confirm his suspicions. He hadn’t shown up atBen’s house by coincidence. Tim had probably asked Marcello tocheck in on him. Especially if he had gotten Ben’s email, which didinclude whining about everything that had gone wrong.
“Heloves you very much,” Marcello said, reading him like a book. “Butfor the record, I didn’t need any coaxing to spend this eveningwith you. I’ve always cherished your company.”
“Smooth talker,” Ben said,offering his arm. “Let’s stuff our faces.”
Marcello looped an armthrough his. “And quench our thirsts.”
Beyond the door, a hostwelcomed them by name. Then they were guided into what resembled acozy sitting room. The lights were low, relying on brass lamps withcolorful glass shades. Tiffany style, or maybe even the real deal.The rest of the furnishings appeared comfortable despite beingantique. Ben counted six tables, each separated by thriving pottedplants, dressing screens, or fully-loaded bookshelves. To him itlooked as though someone had attempted to rearrange anineteenth-century living room into an intimate banquethall.
“Newtheory,” Ben said as they were seated. “Tim never brought me herebecause he knew I’d always want to come back. I’m guessing it’s notcheap!”
“At thisestablishment, people eat for free on their birthdays. Theircompanions do too. We’re in luck!”
Ben didn’t believe thatfor a second. Champagne was brought without them ordering. In fact,they were never shown a menu. Marcello assured him that all theyneeded to focus on was “maintaining a lively conversation” and thatthe rest would be taken care of, so Ben relaxed and decided toenjoy himself, which wasn’t difficult. He loved being spoiled. Notalways, but definitely today. They toasted, they drank, and theychitchatted, but not for long, because Marcello clearly hadsomething important to say.
“I feelthe need to explain myself,” he said, swirling a near-empty flutebefore draining it. The waiter swept in with impressive speed toprovide refills. “I hope it doesn’t appear opportunistic that Isent Tim on this mission. Nor do I intend to sound vain when Ipoint out that I already have more success than any one man trulydeserves. Had the matter been so clear-cut—a choice betweenincreasing my material wealth and separating you from your husbandfor an extended period—I would have refrained from mentioning theidea to him. In fact, my motivations are twofold, both borne out oflove.”
“Eric,” Ben said. “Youloved him and want to keep his memory alive. I wish I could havemet him, because from the way Tim talks, he must have been anamazing man.”
“Deathhas a funny way of changing the way we think of people,” Marcellosaid. “Too easily we forget faults in favor of singling outpositive attributes, but I assure you, everything good you’ve heardabout Eric is true. So yes, the idea of keeping his memory alive,of finding a way for him to help other artists as he once did Tim,proved much too tempting for me.”
“I understand completely,”Ben said. “I feel the same way about Jace sometimes. I want peopleto know how amazing he was, but it’s frustrating because they can’tmeet him and see for themselves. This must be the next bestthing.”
“Yes,although when it comes to Jace, I can think of one way of sharinghis legacy with the world.”
Ben stared. “Tim wasn’tkidding, was he?”
“Yourlife would make an excellent movie,” Marcello said, “and that storywouldn’t be complete without Jace. We could only strive to capturethe merest glimmer of his noble soul, but this would still greatlybenefit the audience, I feel. And what are your thoughts? Do youlike the idea?”
Ben hesitated. “Yes, but Idon’t want people paying money to watch him die. That feelswrong.”
“Youwould prefer, in the movie version, that Jacelives.”
Ben struggled withhimself. “I wish he hadn’t died at all, but it’s part of his story,and I really do want people to know what an amazing man he was, andhow much we’re losing without him here. Some of the details are toopersonal. Our last moments together… Those are private.”
“Say nomore,” Marcello said, holding up a hand. “The plot doesn’t need tostrictly adhere to real-life events. It’s only the essence I wishto capture. Think on it, and we can discuss it again at a laterdate. I can tell when a man is teetering on his tiptoes and couldfall in either direction. I know when not to push myluck.”
