Page 99 of Something Like Winter
“It’s a huge house,” Tim said, startling Ben as he walked into the room. “Too big for me. I plan on selling it and finding a place in Allandale, so don’t go getting used to it.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Allandale is a nice neighborhood, but I don’t know if you’re enough of a hippie to fit in there.”
True enough. Besides, Tim doubted he could really part with this place. He walked around the kitchen island and leaned against one of the counters.
Ben considered him. “So Eric lived here alone?”
“Yeah, when I first met him. It wasn’t long before he asked me to move in. Don’t give me that look! I can see what you’re thinking.”
“What would you think if anyone told you the same story? You have to admit it sounds fishy.”
“Yeah, I guess so. You believe me, right?”
Ben shrugged. “Why not? The world’s a crazy place.”
“I would have, though.”
“What?”
“Slept with Eric.” Tim kept his head held high, not ashamed of this confession. “If it would have made him happy, I would have, but he never even hinted at it.”
“Did you want to?”
“I don’t know.” Tim turned around and opened one of the cabinets, grateful for the excuse not to face Ben while he talked. “Sometimes you can’t tell your friends from your lovers, you know what I mean? The line gets kind of blurry. That’s how it was with me and Eric. Maybe if he wasn’t on so many meds he would have wanted something physical. Maybe not.”
“What was wrong with him?”
“Cancer. Multiple kinds, multiple places.”
“Geez.”
“Yeah.” Tim grabbed a handful of ingredients and turned to set them on the island. “Eric toughed it out until the end. He never complained, never felt sorry for himself. He had so much spirit. That’s why I can’t sell the place yet. I feel like he’s still here.” Tim stared at the tiled surface of the island, thinking how he’d give anything for one more shared breakfast there. When he noticed Ben watching him, he tried to sound chipper. “Anyway, what did you have in mind for dinner?”
“You don’t know how to cook, do you?”
Tim glanced down at the ingredients for the first time. Pineapples and pasta? Brown sugar and rice? Tim laughed. “No, I don’t, but I had to get you here somehow. We could do delivery. Or we could get nostalgic and you could cook for me. I’ll even lay myself out on the couch and pretend my ankle is jacked up.”
“Tim—” Ben’s warning tones matched his expression.
“Too far? Sorry. I just wanted you to see my home, since it’s so connected to my past.” And because he hoped Ben would be part of its future. “You being here really livens the place up. I wouldn’t mind you visiting more often. Bring Jace along. I’d love to meet him.”
Ben scrutinized him. Okay, so maybe Tim was laying on the nice guy act a little thick.
“All right,” Ben said. “I’ll cook, but you have to help. I don’t care how rich you are, everyone should know how to make at least one meal. What have you got here?”
“Just a bunch of canned stuff.” Most of it had been in the cabinets when Eric was alive. “Uh, you better check the expiration dates. I eat a lot of take-out.”
Ben was at his side, rustling through the counters. “Canned tomatoes —these are still good. Where are the spices?”
Tim followed Ben around, discovering cupboards he’d forgotten about, which was refreshing. Eric used to cook with these things, and now Ben would too. Tim liked that.
“Seriously? No onions?”
“I think there are green ones in the herb garden out back.” Automatic sprinklers watered those. “Lots of things grow wild out there, if you know what you’re looking for.”
They raided the garden, tearing leaves off different plants to taste them and laughing about getting poisoned, but they found some familiar flavors and the onions. Ben fired up the oven, put a pan on the flames, and threw in some olive oil. He made Tim wash and slice the onions while he put water to boil on another burner.
“Toss the onions in and stir them around,” Ben commanded like a drill sergeant. “Now the can of tomatoes and the spices.”
