After Ben (15 page)

Conversely, when they were out shopping together, the specialty store owners that Ben came to know so well grew to treat them like any other married couple. In Ben’s weekend world of herbs and spices they were known as the de Lucas. Secretly, Theo thought that Theo de Luca sounded so much better than boring and dependable Theo Anderson. Yes, to his thinking Theo de Luca sounded like a man of the world, and somewhat exotic. In reality, Theo Anderson was a middle manager for a Seattle-based company who had held variations of the same position—slowly advancing up the pay scale—for nearly fifteen years.

The only exotic thing he had ever managed was standing—transfixed—as almost certain death had hurtled toward him in the middle of a busy Milan street. He’d gone away on a rare spur-of-the-moment trip and came home with an amazing, beautiful creature who thought he made the sun rise and set. Dependable—boring even—on the outside, Theo de Luca was his other side: the dark side of his moon that he hadn’t even realized existed until Ben took over his life.

He turned to face the breathless man who still gripped his elbow, forcing a smile. Theo could almost predict what was going to happen next.

“Mr. de Luca! It’s so good to see you! Where have you been hiding?”

Theo shrugged and smiled a little, waiting for the next question.

“Where is the other Mr. de Luca today? We have the first pressing already; we’ve had it for weeks! We expected to see him long before now. I hope it was okay to set aside his usual order….”

Theo stared at the sidewalk and gritted his teeth momentarily. He guessed what was coming next.

“Is… is everything okay, Mr. de Luca?”

As Theo raised his eyes to meet those of the man who imported the extra-virgin olive oil that Ben used, he noticed his wife standing right behind him. He saw from her expression that she realized her husband had asked a difficult question. He nodded in gratitude as she pulled her husband away, explaining that there was a customer waiting on the store telephone, making an excuse to shuffle him away.

Sagging, wishing he’d just washed his own fucking shirts instead of calling into the dry cleaners, Theo walked blindly across First Avenue toward Cherry Street. His next stop was the bookshop to cancel their fucking incessant invitations to murder-mystery readings. That was Ben’s thing, not his. Finding out that the butler did it held zero interest for Theo.

He couldn’t count how many times he’d drifted off in movie theaters, or while watching terrible—in Theo’s opinion—amateur productions of Agatha Christie stories. He soon figured out that he didn’t really need to watch them at all, as Ben would recount every single plot point all the way home, sometimes even continuing while they were in bed.

Theo snapped once after unwittingly agreeing to watch a movie, only to find out that it was a more recent version of a DVD they’d watched just a few days before. The thought of sitting, surrounded by strangers, with all their candy-wrapper rustling and incessant coughing, after a too-long day at work, made Theo uncharacteristically tetchy.

He’d been unable to keep his temper to himself, hissing almost as he said, “For fuck’s sake Ben, you know what’s going to happen. You know!” He couldn’t bear to sit through the performance, stalking out instead to pace up and down the sidewalk outside the theater for what felt like hours. When Ben eventually came out, he went to hail a cab, then jumped with surprise when Theo put his hand on his shoulder. He’d hugged Theo quickly, scanning his face before asking, “What are you still doing here,
tesoro
? You must be chilled to the bone.” He hadn’t criticized Theo for leaving early or for spoiling his evening with his bad mood. While he drove them home, he apologized instead to Theo, explaining that he couldn’t resist the lure of a good story.

“But you knew what the ending would be. You knew they were all going to die.” Theo couldn’t get his head around Ben’s compulsion to revisit the same plot over and over again.

“Ah, we all die in the end.” Ben paused, struggling momentarily before continuing, eyebrows raised as he questioned his word choices. “But sometimes the cast is compelling enough to make living through loss—twice—worth it. Besides, different actors bring a little of themselves to their roles. It can still be a great story, even with unfamiliar faces, no?” Ben had looked across at Theo, his dark eyes shining—unbearably handsome.

“Think about it, baby. If you enjoy an experience once, why wouldn’t you want to feel the same way over and over and over? So what if you know how things will turn out? So what?” He’d banged the steering wheel with the heel of his palm before reaching over and squeezing Theo’s leg.

Theo remembered then how hot Ben’s palm had felt, even through the fabric of his pants. He’d shivered—it had been cold outside the theater—and Ben had driven a little faster. Later, in their steam-filled shower, Ben had kissed Theo, one soapy hand wrapping around his cock, stroking him to the straining point before backing away.

“Oh, so sorry! We both know what will happen if I continue. No point doing the same thing over and over….” His laugh had been muffled against Theo’s mouth.

Walking into the bookstore, which was full of different versions of similar mystery stories, Theo guessed that he still didn’t truly get it. He just knew that if he could live that evening again, he’d sit through the same movie without complaining, even though he knew what the end would bring.

He’d sit next to Ben and hold his hand if he could.

Or just look at his own de Luca for a while as he watched the show, face lit, dimples deepening with enjoyment.

Instead, he talked with the store clerk and had Ben’s name removed from their mailing list. Watching the cursor blink across the screen as his name was deleted was so much worse than sitting through the same movie twice.

So much worse.

T
HEO
was exhausted by the time he returned home laden with dry cleaning and groceries. He fumbled awkwardly for his keys, then kicked the front door closed behind him with more force than usual. Dumping his load on the kitchen counter, he guessed that maybe a morning of explaining why he was canceling memberships wasn’t ever going to be fun. He’d known before he even left the apartment.

He told himself that it was for the best. The sooner he closed down these areas of their old life the sooner….

Theo slumped onto a stool.

He didn’t want to move on.

He didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not today.

Especially not today.

Eyes burning, he scanned the kitchen for something—anything—to focus on. The red blink of the answering machine had him reaching over the counter before he could get sucked into dwelling again. When he heard Maggie’s voice he called her back right away.

“Hey.”

That was all Maggie needed to hear. Theo listened to her sigh and mentally shook his head at himself. Maggie didn’t need a weekend dose of him on a downer. She’d already had more than enough of that at the office over the last year.

“Sorry, Mags. How are you? What can I help you with?”

“Maybe this isn’t a good time….” He heard the hesitation in her voice.

“Hit me with it.” Theo thought the day couldn’t go any further downhill.

“We’re buying a playhouse for Janie’s birthday. Mike’s mom is watching the kids so we can go get it and then unload it into the garage without them seeing when we get home.” Theo had no clue what Maggie’s gift shopping had to do with him.

“Do you need me to pick up the kids later? They could come watch a DVD here. We could make popcorn.” Theo walked through to the living room, assigning new spots to fragile treasures Ben had brought back from their travels.

“It’s not that….” She hesitated, making Theo stop mid-relocation.

“What’s up, Maggie. Come on, spit it out already.” He was worried now. Maggie always said what she thought. Maybe she was worried about spending money on birthday gifts after all the job cuts.

“This playhouse is huge, Theo. It comes in lots of pieces, and it’s going to take up a lot of room in the garage. I’m sorry to ask you to move your stuff, but we really need the space.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Theo slumped down onto the couch, hand in his hair.

Fuck.

He’d already liked Maggie a great deal before Ben died. She’d worked with him for a month, learning his little ways while he learned hers. After… well, afterward he’d relied on her without really realizing just how hard he’d leaned. She needed the storage space in her garage back. The space she hadn’t even discussed with him as she boxed up Ben’s clothes. The space that Theo had half forgotten he had taken up in her home.

Walking through their apartment, Theo gathered his keys and coat as he told his assistant that he’d be right over, telling himself that he might as well have a full day of shitty things to do. He’d been dreading the day for weeks anyhow; at least this gave it a focus. He stopped for a cup of coffee with her husband, Mike, while Maggie searched online for a shelter that might appreciate men’s clothing. Theo could just about cope with that idea. It wasn’t like he’d ever see anyone wearing Ben’s things, and he knew Ben would have freaked if Theo had thrown everything away.

Watching as she googled, then placed a call to a shelter on the other side of the city, Theo considered taking everything home with him. He could spend the evening folding soft sweaters and neatly paired socks back into the empty drawers that waited for them.

Maggie’s hand on his bowed head was soothing.

“I’m sorry, Theo. This really isn’t a great weekend for doing this, is it?”

He shook his head.

“Can I help?”

He shook his head again. He was going to have to get through Ben’s birthday every year. He might as well do something productive, something he would approve of. He knew that was right, but still he turned his overloaded car for home before swearing at himself and making a U-turn.

Theo drove to the shelter in silence.

It was exactly as he’d expected: grim, dilapidated, miserable. Theo shuttled between his car and the shelter office, passing over boxes of clothes made of linen and cashmere, as well as of denim and cotton. He moved quickly, the smell of neglect and disinfectant making him doubt all over again whether he was doing the right thing.

The people behind the counter were pleasant. They didn’t ask the reason for the donation. It was obvious, he figured, as one of them shook out a pair of stylish slacks—what Ben called disco pants: tight in the ass but with plenty of room for an erection—that the clothes weren’t his. He was much taller and broader than Ben had been.

Theo couldn’t help noticing that the younger of the helpers had a nasty looking pair of black eyes. In fact the whole right side of his face was a dull, swollen rainbow that ranged from deep purple to pale green. His gaze skittered away as the man glanced up.

A staff member looked through Theo’s donation as he brought in the last pile of jackets and coats, expressing delight that he’d brought numerous scarves and pairs of gloves also. He guessed it was the time of year that their patrons would get the most use from them. When the banged-up dude bent to pick up a box, his T-shirt rode up, revealing more bruising—muted firework bursts—at the base of his spine. Lips tightening, Theo thought to himself that maybe this wasn’t the safest of locations to work.

For a while he talked with the man who documented his donation, wanting more than anything to grab everything back and stuff it into his car again. He couldn’t help holding onto one striped scarf. He couldn’t let it go, couldn’t make himself leave it in this depressing gray place of utter hopelessness. When he heard a loud gale of laughter ring out, he jumped.

Smiling, shrugging, the man behind the counter rolled his eyes. He explained that they usually only opened at night, but during the weekend they had access to more volunteers so could open their doors all day. Theo hadn’t ever considered what hobos did with their time.

When the laughter rang out again, he turned toward the sound.

“Come and see for yourself.”

Theo followed the man along a corridor into what looked like a large break room. There were old couches and armchairs, along with mismatched coffee tables, at one end of the room. Nearly every seat had an occupant. At the far end of the room some dining tables were arranged into a U configuration.

Theo noticed again that most seats were taken, and that several men stood inside the U watching whoever sat at the head of the table. This time the laughter didn’t make him jump. He smiled instead as he watched men enjoying what looked from the side to be a fast game of Chase the Ace.

His dad had introduced him to the game after they’d visited a fair. As a six-year-old boy he’d been transfixed by the cardsharp’s fast-moving hands, certain that he knew exactly where the ace of spades would be. Every single time he’d guessed wrong. For weeks afterward he had tortured his mom, getting her to sit with him for hours while he practiced his card skills. In the end she and his dad had carefully cut down a pack of cards to fit his too-small hands.

He stood in the doorway, shaking his head at the offer of a cup of coffee, watching the dealer’s hands move in a blur. A phone rang somewhere, and the man who was showing him around excused himself for a moment. When the dealer stood, fists pumping in victory as he successfully fooled his audience again, Theo realized that he’d been watching his intern, Joel. He stepped back a little into the dim hallway as Joel sat again, shuffling his deck.

The low hum of chat in the room was good natured, the atmosphere relaxed, right up until the shouting started.

Two dudes started wrestling over what looked like a bundle of garbage. Joel was in the middle of their altercation within seconds. Theo stepped forward without thinking. His intern was built, but the two men he held apart were punching wildly. Before he took another step, a firm hand grabbed his forearm, yanking him back.

“We’ve got this.”

Theo wasn’t convinced that the banged-up dude from the office would be much help. It wasn’t that he was small—he was as tall as Theo—he just looked too slim to have much strength. Theo stepped forward again only to be met with a palm flat against his chest.