“I kind of need to go now,” Ben said apologetically. “Maybe we can get something to eat on the road?”

“Yeah, all right.”

They navigated the horizonless parking lot until they found the car, Ben worrying about his oversight. How long could a cat go without food? His concern was more than just that. Samson needed regular company, something he had been neglecting the last couple of days.

“I hope he’s okay,” Ben said as they pulled onto the highway. “Usually I stay over there when Jace is out of town.”

“So why haven’t you been?”

Yeah, Ben, why haven’t you stayed the night at Jace’s place lately? Once he put the question to himself it was obvious. That first night he hadn’t liked the idea of waiting for a call from Tim while at Jace’s apartment. And last night, well, he supposed he liked the idea of Tim being able to find him. And look how it had paid off. He had gotten a date out of it.

Perhaps it had all gone a bit too far. It was time to make Jace a part of regular conversation. Tim might be hurt, but surely giving him false hope would harm him more. “I’ll crash there tonight,” Ben said. “Gotta make sure the apartment looks nice before Jace comes home.”

“When’s that?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“So I have you to myself until then. We can do dinner tonight. We’ll feed the cat and then head out. My treat.”

“You don’t need to pay for everything,” Ben said. “I have money too, you know.”

“I can afford it,” Tim shrugged.

“How?”

Tim’s brow furrowed, as if this were a complicated question. Ben supposed it was, but he needed an answer.

“I inherited some money,” Tim said. “A lot, actually.”

Ben’s stomach sank, his fears backed by one more detail. “From who?”

“No one you would know,” Tim answered.

Ben didn’t press any further, but he didn’t offer any other topic of conversation. His short-lived vow of silence paid off.

“His name was Eric. He was a friend of mine. He died late last year.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said. “Still,” he added after a moment, “it’s a bit unusual. Inheriting money from a friend, I mean.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless he was your sugar daddy or something.” Ben gave an artificial laugh that didn’t convince either of them.

“I guess Allison has filled you in on the rumors, then?” Tim’s jaw clenched. “I guess there’s no point in telling you what you already know. Eric was rich, old, and gay. What else could it have been, right?”

“I don’t know,” Ben replied weakly, surprised at the sudden anger in Tim’s voice.

“Well, it’s all bullshit. People think the whole world revolves around sex and money, but they’re wrong. Eric was a good person and one of the best friends I ever had. All he ever wanted was friendship.”

Ben didn’t know what to say, but he was afraid he fit into the category of the small-minded. Some rich old guy wanted Tim around for company and nothing more? Had Eric been blind? Add money to the equation and the whole thing stank.

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yeah, you did, but it’s okay.” Tim’s posture relaxed a little. “I just get tired of what people say. They don’t know me. They take a couple of facts and warp them into something they can feel superior about.”

“Yeah, that does suck. So what’s the truth, then?”

“He was like a father to me. Like the way I always wish things had been with my real dad. He knew everything about anything, was funny, and had the craziest ideas. Talking to him was the greatest. That’s all we’d ever do. He was already pretty sick when I met him, so he couldn’t get out more. We’d just sit there and talk for hours. Hell, I practically became his nurse. It was the best time of my life. Well, second-best.”

Ben knew he shouldn’t ask, but he wanted to be sure. “So there was never sex involved?”

“No! Christ! Can’t gay people just be friends?”

“Sorry,” Ben apologized. “It’s just the money thing--”

“Yeah, well, what else was he supposed to do with it? He didn’t have any kids. Just a sister. She got most of the money. I got a small part, which really was still a tremendous amount. And the house, too. She didn’t want it, anyway.”

Ben exhaled, trying to imagine what he would do if he were suddenly wealthy. Tim seemed lost in thought the rest of the drive home. Ben too had much to think about. Neglecting Samson and then hearing about Tim’s strange relationship with Eric had taken some of the fairytale shine off their day. He found himself missing Jace and the simple life they shared. If only he were coming home tonight.

The afternoon’s surrealism only increased when he walked into Jace’s apartment with Tim. His ex-boyfriend silently took in the apartment, examining the walls and making his own judgments. Was he sizing up Jace and mentally knocking him down? Did he feel intimidated or insecure? Did he ever?

“Should I make us something to eat?” Ben asked after tending to Samson.

“No, let’s go out. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, all right,” Ben agreed, eager to get Tim away from the apartment.

“Tell you what,” Tim said once they were back in his car. “Why don’t we avoid the crowds? We’ll go back to my place and I’ll cook for you.”

“Eh, I don’t know.” Ben saw the ruse to get him somewhere private.

“It’ll be cool,” Tim said, switching lanes. “You’ll like it there.”

“Said the spider to the fly,” Ben muttered.

* * * * *

Tim lived out in West Lake Hills. The area was notoriously expensive or “rich bitch” as Ben’s mother would say. Tim’s house was modern with rustic elements. The main part of the home was a jumble of minimalistic cubes, but the covered entrance was hewn from rough-cut wood and supported by twisted iron columns. The window shutters were warped with age and reinforced with crisscrossing wire, as if the architect had created them with recycled chicken coops. Even more out of place was the separate garage, as unremarkably middle class as possible. Maybe that was the architect’s intention. One touch of normality to put the rest of the building’s eccentricities into context. The result felt like a tornado had swept up a cabin, a suburban home, and a museum of modern art and dropped them jumbled together.

Tim parked his car in the driveway and led the way to the door. The interior of the house couldn’t have been more different than the cold exterior. Thick colorful carpets were patterned across polished wooden floors. Oversized couches and chairs in warm, earthy colors filled the rooms they walked through. In the living room, practical bookshelves built low into the wall doubled as benches and were set in front of tall windows on either side of the fireplace. The massive kitchen, their final destination, had all the trappings of a professional restaurant, including two ranges and an indoor grill. Ben sat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen’s island and stared.

“I gotta hit the john,” Tim said, slipping off his sneakers. “There’s anything you could ever want to drink in here. Feel free to poke around.”

“Thanks,” Ben said.

Wherever the bathroom was, Ben worried Tim might need half an hour to navigate the sprawling floor plan. Ben opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of cola. The noise it made when he popped it open sounded deafening in the silence. Despite its cozy appearance, the house felt lonely, the humming appliances too loud in the stillness. A home without a family was a haunted place. Here it was easy to imagine why Eric was desperate for company, how Tim’s proud speech and laughter would chase away the emptiness. But it wasn’t Eric who was left here alone.

“It’s a huge house,” Tim said, causing Ben to jump. “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 at the flirtation but smiled. “Allandale is a nice neighborhood, but I don’t know if you’re enough of a hippie to fit in there. So Eric lived here alone?”