Jason still wasn’t completely comfortable accepting all of this, but Ben’s eyes were shining, and he didn’t have the heart to turn down his generosity again. “Okay. Thanks. I’m going to write down however much I spend, and I’m paying you back some day, but for now, I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ben said. “So I guess that concludes the tour. Unless you want to see my room. You’re not nosey are you?”
Jason laughed. “Just a little, yeah.”
“Me too.”
Ben led them to the end of the hall, Jason ignoring the sense of déjà vu this conjured up. The master bedroom was comfortably dark, burgundy curtains keeping out much of the light. A tasteful touch of earthy hues added to the coziness, an archway on one side leading to a private bathroom and walk-in closet. Jason took all this in briefly, his attention mostly focusing on the little creature who was stretching and standing in the middle of the bed.
“You’ve got a cat!” he said excitedly.
“That’s Samson,” Ben said. “I hope you’re not allergic.”
“Nope,” Jason said, rushing forward to offer his hand. “I’m definitely not allergic to Samsons.”
The gray cat seemed a little stiff and took his time walking to the edge of the mattress. Then he sniffed Jason’s hand while keeping cautious eyes trained on him. Whatever the criteria, Jason must have passed, because Samson marked his hand by rubbing his head against it. Then he yawned and hopped off the bed, heading toward a bowl of water in the bathroom.
“He’s getting old,” Ben said, voice a little terse, “but I’m hoping he’ll outlive us all anyway. He still manages to smack down Chinchilla when necessary, so he’s got some years left in him yet.”
“Oh, so you have two cats?” Jason asked.
Ben shook his head. “Chinchilla is Tim’s dog.”
“
You have a dog?
” Jason didn’t mean to shout, and he felt bad that Samson took off running with ears flattened, but… “I’ve lived in twenty-four different foster homes.
Twenty-four
! And you know what none of them had?”
Ben humored him. “A dog?”
“That’s right!” Jason glanced around eagerly, like the animal would appear out of thin air. “Where is it?”
“In the backyard,” Ben said. “She gets a little overexcited when guests show up, but you might be the first one more excited to see her.”
“Can we let her in now?”
Ben laughed. “Sure, although you should probably step out back with her instead. Chinchilla is a little accident-prone at times.”
He was downstairs so fast that Ben had to rush to keep up. Jason peered out the glass door with his hand on the knob and spotted a medium-sized dog dozing in a patch of sunlight.
“Think you’ll be okay?” Ben asked. “I haven’t seen Michelle for a while and was hoping to catch up with her.”
“Sure,” Jason said distractedly as he opened the door.
This woke the dog, who raised her head. Jason closed the door behind him as they considered each other. Then he smiled, which was enough to send Chinchilla rocketing toward him. Well, more like wobbling very quickly. She was a bulldog, meaning she had a big fat head and a body to match. Jason was reminded of cartoons when Bugs Bunny or whoever would plug a smoking cigar with a finger, making it swell up and explode. Chinchilla looked like that cigar at its most swollen, and as he got on his knees to pet her, he decided she was the most beautiful creature in the world.
After getting his face thoroughly licked and laughing until he was out of breath, Jason was slightly relieved when Chinchilla finally backed down. She started walking the yard, glancing back at him like she was continuing his tour of the property. He did his best to follow, looking around and not seeing anything unusual. A patio of cobblestones stretched out from the house and was home to assorted lawn furniture and a grill. The yard was long and wide, and had probably once been bigger before the newly-built privacy fence was installed. Jason assumed that was for Chinchilla’s benefit more than anything, since he saw no sign of neighbors.
“If this was my yard,” a voice said, “I’d be sunbathing nude every day.”
Jason turned around to find Emma approaching. “Well, with two gay guys living here, I doubt they would care.”
“Three,” she corrected, stooping beside him to pet Chinchilla. “This place is on the verge of becoming a gay commune.” She stood again and sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice? They could build extra houses, start a little rainbow community out here where nobody calls you names.”
Jason eyed her for a moment. “When you said earlier that you don’t like guys…”
Emma donned a mischievous expression. “I didn’t mean boys are icky and have cooties, no. Don’t tell my parents though.”
“Why not?” Jason glanced back toward the house. “Your uncle Jace was gay and Michelle didn’t seem to mind. Is your dad the problem?”
“No, he’s cool. I’m just waiting for the absolute worst time to come out. Like during a funeral or something.”
Jason laughed. “Why?”
“Because people always ask how you came out. It’s a story you have to tell countless times during your life. I want mine to be good. So what’s yours?”
Jason blinked. “I didn’t have to come out because I don’t have a family.”
“See?” Emma said. “That’s no good at all. No rising suspense, no funny ending. You can do better than that. When did my mom find out about you?”
He thought about it a moment. “After I got caught having sex with my foster brother.”
“
Now
we’re talking!” Emma nodded approvingly. “You start telling that story at a party and the whole room will stop to listen.”
Jason grinned. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe not. So what do you think?”
He nodded slowly. “So far, so good. I feel like I’m mooching, which sucks, but past that, the house is great and Ben seems nice.”
“He really is.”
They took a cue from Chinchilla—stretched out on her belly and panting happily—and sat down on the grass.
“So, did you leave anyone behind in Houston?” Emma asked.
“You mean like a boyfriend? No. What about you?”
“It just so happens,” Emma said proudly, “that I landed my first girlfriend last week. She says she’s bi-curious, when in truth I’m pretty sure she’s straight, but I’ll take what I can get. It’ll never last, but that’s okay because she keeps writing me these horrible Goth poems.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm. The last one was about us dying and sharing a coffin, our bodies becoming one as they decompose. Very hot.”
“Searing!” Jason agreed. “Do your uncles know?”
“That I’m a lesbian? Yeah. They helped me figure it out. I started having feelings for a neighbor girl when I was thirteen, which freaked me out. She was my friend, and I couldn’t stop thinking about—well, you probably don’t want to know. I decided to get away from her to see if that helped. Uncle Ben and Tim had just gotten this place and it was summer, so I asked if I could come stay. Seeing two dudes kissing when they thought I wasn’t looking sort of tipped me off that maybe I wasn’t so weird after all. When I finally confided in them, just being able to talk about it helped.”
“Did you ever tell the neighbor girl?” Jason asked.
Emma rolled her eyes. “While I was away for the summer, she found herself an unbelievably hot boyfriend.”
“Figures,” Jason said. “Being gay isn’t hard. I’m okay with that, but I wish it wasn’t so impossible to meet someone.”
“Tell me about it.” Emma nudged him. “Let’s make a pact, seeing as how we’re already arranged to be married. If we make it to our thirties and still haven’t met someone, we really will get hitched. That way we don’t have to live alone.”
Jason mulled it over. “I think there’s some sort of tax break too.”
“And if we want to have kids,” Emma said, “we can do the turkey baster thing.”
“Okay,” Jason said, holding out a hand. “It’s a deal. If we’re still sad and single when we’re thirty, you’ll become Mrs. Grant.”
“Or you could take my name,” Emma said, but then she reconsidered. “Actually, Emma Grant doesn’t sound bad. Makes a nice theater name. Way better than Emma Trout. You know what? It’s a deal!”
They shook on it, Jason smiling broadly. Not only did he land himself a place to live today and make some new friends, but he’d also gotten engaged.
* * * * *
When they returned indoors, Ben was cooking lunch. Greg had been dragged away from the television by his wife. They all gathered around the breakfast bar, like the studio audience of a cooking show. Jason hopped up to help—being a deft hand at chopping produce, even if his meals rarely turned out right—and everyone talked and laughed as he and Ben worked together. Even Chinchilla was happily passed out on the cool stone floor. Jason could have joined her. He’d only been here an hour, and already he felt relaxed.
Foster home number seven
. That one had been full of four biological kids and two adopted, plus the parents and a grandfather. On weekends the entire family would gather, playing games or just sitting around telling stories and laughing. The vibe had been wonderful and warm… except Jason couldn’t figure out how he fit in. Instead he sat on the sidelines and watched with envy. This time he had no problem integrating. Jason had always liked Michelle, and not surprisingly, those good feelings extended to the rest of her family. After all these years, maybe he had finally found his own little piece of paradise.
“Tim! Hey!”
Jason’s head rose at the sound of Ben’s voice. He turned to see a man standing in the doorway. His hair was jet black, or at least it appeared that way since he was wet with exertion. His shirt was soaked with sweat too, sticking to a body every bit as muscular as Greg’s, if not a bit leaner. Emma was right. Tim could easily compete with her father when it came to good looks. He was handsome enough that when he locked eyes with Jason, it was a struggle to hold his gaze.
“Hey,” Tim said, nodding upward.
“Hi,” Jason replied.
Those eyes! For once Jason’s knowledge of precious stones failed him because he couldn’t quite find the right one. Too much gray to be a diamond, but man, were they clear! Like someone had taken silver and somehow made it transparent.
“Dinner is almost ready,” Ben said. “Care to join us?”
Tim looked away from Jason, which made it easier to breathe. “I have some work at the gallery. I was just about to head over there.”
“Big surprise,” Greg muttered. Then he winced, most likely due to the elbow Michelle jabbed in his ribs.
A shadow crossed Tim’s features when he saw Greg. Then the sun came out in full force when he noticed Emma. “Hey! What are you sitting there for? Come give me some sugar!”
“But you’re disgustingly sweaty,” Emma complained.
Jason wouldn’t describe it as disgusting by any means. He watched Tim curiously as he hugged Emma, squeezing her even closer when she made a face and complained. In that uninhibited moment, Tim allowed himself to smile, cranking up the sex appeal a notch higher than it had any right to go. But then his eyes returned to Jason and that light faded. Tim gave another little nod, followed by a reserved smile without showing teeth. Then he excused himself and left the room.
“Ow!” Greg said. “What? I didn’t say anything that time!”
“You were going to,” Michelle replied.
Jason glanced back toward the empty doorway, feeling a lot less certain about his new home than he had just a moment ago. Then again, he supposed every paradise had its serpent.
* * * * *
When night had fallen and Michelle and her family had gone home, Ben became anxious. Conversation was stilted, Jason having to repeat himself multiple times, occasionally stopping completely in midsentence without Ben noticing. He tried not to take this personally. Ben was obviously distraught, his attention repeatedly returning to the front door. It wasn’t hard to guess who he was waiting for.
“I think I’ll start getting settled in my room,” Jason said. “Unpack a few things.”
“Do you need help?” Ben asked.
“No, thanks.”
Jason was eager to give him privacy. Maybe then Ben would call Tim and get it all sorted out. Then again, that wasn’t likely to happen unless one thing changed.
Foster home number eleven
. The mother there had pampered Jason, treated him like a prince. The family had no other children, biological or otherwise, for him to compete with. Her husband was the only issue. He wasn’t a gruff man by any means. In fact, he was soft-spoken, but it became painfully obvious that he didn’t want children the way that his wife did. Lucky for him, Jason’s resentment over someone trying to replace his mother bubbled up, and he solved the unwilling father’s problem by breaking every single dinner dish before loading the shards in the dishwasher and running the machine.
If Tim was the same way—if he wasn’t happy to have Jason here like Ben was—remained to be seen. Maybe Tim was only avoiding Greg. Perhaps, now that he had gone, Tim would be more friendly and welcoming.
Trying to put the issue out of mind, Jason slowly personalized his new room by unpacking. First was a framed photo of him and Steph taken during their road trip to Las Vegas. They had thought eighteen was the legal gambling age and were sadly mistaken, so most of their trip was spent walking the strip and looking at the lights. Or hanging out in their hotel room, giggling over the stupidest things. He set the photo on the nightstand and emptied a box of knickknacks: An alarm clock, which was the most useful. A book he’d been trying to finish for so long it was more of a decoration. A plush pig Steph had given him before leaving that she insisted he talk to and cuddle with, as needed.
At the bottom of this box was a white bandana. Jason wasn’t shocked to see it, since he’d tossed it in there when packing. He put it in the same place he always did, between the mattress and box-spring, where it would remain until he was feeling melancholy some quiet evening. Probably a Sunday, he imagined. The past tended to catch up to people on Sunday nights.
Jason took a break to stare out the window at the backyard before unloading another box in the bathroom, choosing between the familiar and what Ben had bought him. He stored the rest beneath the cabinets. Then he returned to his room to set up his computer. He placed it on top of the dresser, not having anywhere else to put it. Maybe one of the gift certificates Ben had given him would be good for a small desk or table.