Rum & Ginger (7 page)

Ben let out the breath he’d been holding.
In or out?

Out, I think. T.C. McF?

Fuck off
, Ben typed, smiling.

Then you pick :)

Pauly and Tina’s
. Ben knew Chance loved the little local eatery. Pauly and Tina’s was right around the corner in an old Victorian just like this one, and having dinner there was like having dinner in someone’s home. It was also very reasonably priced, and Chance loved that as well.

Mexican? Sounds great. You’ll make the reservations?

Sure. 6?
Ben knew better. Chance would want more than a half hour to get ready.

6:30?

How about 7?
Ben smiled while he waited for Chance’s response.

Perfect.

See you after work.
Ben put his phone to sleep and bounced up the stairs with a new sense of lightness to his mood. Maybe a nice romantic dinner would be just the thing for them. Ben decided to go for a run and pick up his car before calling the restaurant.

T
HE
NIGHT
was warm and lovely, so they decided to walk to dinner. Chance had showered and looked handsome in a freshly pressed salmon-colored dress shirt and charcoal slacks. Ben had opted for a nice pair of jeans. He wore a white dress shirt with a gray waistcoat. Ben strolled by Chance, close but not too close, not out on the street. Chance kept his hands in his pockets as they discussed his day and the previous evening at Burnsy’s. Ben related some of Burnsy’s more colorful displays of drunken nudity, and Chance laughed easily. It seemed to Ben that things were back to normal.

They mounted the steps to the bright-red door of Pauly and Tina’s. Ben switched the bottle he was carrying from his right hand to his left so he could open the door for Chance. Maria, the owner’s oldest daughter, greeted them by name and showed them to a table. “Can I take this and put it in the fridge so it stays cool?” she asked, placing her hand on the bottle of wine Ben had brought.

“Sure, that’s great,” Ben answered.

“Cool. Andrea will be your server. Enjoy.” She smiled and then walked into the kitchen.

“I love this place,” Chance said as he opened his menu. Ben wondered why his boyfriend bothered. Chance always ordered the same thing: the veggie burrito with mild mushroom sauce. Ben opened his own menu. He’d been slowly ordering everything since they’d discovered the little restaurant, trying something new each time. Ben had yet to find something that wasn’t wonderfully delicious. “What wine did you get?” Chance asked.

“Riesling.” Ben always got the same wine when they ate here. It was Chance’s favorite.

“Chateau St. Michelle?” Chance asked.

“Of course.” Ben smirked behind his menu.

“My favorite.”

“Is it? Lucky guess on my part,” Ben joked.

“Right.” Chance chuckled as he read about a bunch of dishes he’d never order.

The waitress approached their table with an open, friendly smile and a basket of homemade tortilla chips. “Hey, guys, long time no see. How have you been?” She placed the basket in the center of the table.

“Great, Andrea. Yourself?” Chance responded.

“Really well, thanks. One spicy salsa, one mild?” she said, placing two small bowls next to the basket. “Can I get you any drinks to start off?”

“Just water for me, thanks,” Chance answered.

“Mojito,” Ben answered. He held up a pint of rum and felt Chance’s look of condescension rather than saw it.

“Great. I’ll give you a couple minutes and put your drink orders in.” Andrea took the small bottle so she could give it to the bartender.

“Thanks, Andie,” Ben said. After she’d left, Ben leveled his gaze on Chance. “What?”

“Nothing,” Chance said as he scooped some salsa onto a chip.

Ben decided to let it go. “How was work?”

“Oh God.” Chance rolled his eyes. “Dave’s been surfing porn sites at work again. I spent almost the entire day tracking down viruses.” Chance paused to eat another chip. Ben watched, trying not to count the carbs Chance devoured. “He’s on his last warning. They’re going to fire him if he doesn’t knock it off.”

“So what?” Ben shrugged. “The guy’s a lazy bag of crap. You’re always telling me how he avoids work and screws up when he actually does something.”

“Yeah, but he’s a nice guy. He means well. I don’t want to see him get shit-canned.”

“
You’re
the nice guy,” Ben told him. “You always give people the benefit of the doubt.”

“Maybe.” Chance shrugged. “Do you know what you want?”

“Mm.” Ben nodded.

Andrea brought their drinks and took their orders. Ben ordered spicy chicken enchiladas, and Chance got his veggie burrito. The conversation continued, first about Chance’s work, then about Ben’s. Eventually, as always, Chance turned the conversation to his online activities: role-playing and gaming. Ben laughed as Chance related a story about a level ninety dwarf that ran through the game world smacking people in the crotch. No one was a high enough level to challenge the little character, so they all just had to take the abuse. The moderators couldn’t find a way to prevent the behavior.

“That won’t happen in our game, though,” Chance said as Andrea brought out their entrees and Maria poured their wine.

Ben watched Chance with his mouth open a little. “Our game? Whose game?”

Chance stopped cutting into his burrito. “Oh. Oh, I didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Dormouse29 and I are developing an MMORPG. It’s loosely based on the books of Terry Pratchett. I mean, it’s kind of high fantasy but with more jokes. There’s no turtle with the world on its back or anything.”

“Your game.” Ben took a bite of his enchilada and a sip of his Riesling.

“We’re talking about making one of the kingdoms a tortoise with a city on its shell. You know, kind of an in-joke.”

“You’re making a game. With a dormouse?” Ben asked.

“Dormouse29 is Chuck’s screen name. He’s a graphic designer. He plays a female human noble. Cartha. Her name’s Cartha Delphine.” Chance paused, looking expectantly at Ben. “She’s a druid spellcaster.”

“You’re making a game?” Ben felt like he was sitting across from a stranger. “Wow. You’re making a game.”

“What? Are you pissed? You’re pissed.”

“Chance, I’m not pissed. Why would I be pissed?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of a silly dream,” Chance answered.

“No. It’s not silly at all. I think it’s awesome.”

“Really?” Chance asked with a beaming smile of relief. “I’ve played so many games, and I know what I like about them and what I don’t like. And, well, DM29 and I were chatting, and it just sort of evolved from that. We’re writing it, and he’s doing designs of the characters and environments. He went to school with a guy who works at a game studio. When it’s ready, we’ll pitch it.”

“That’s great, I mean, really,” Ben responded.

“But? You seem like you want to say something.” Chance laid his fork down.

“Well. Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, it seems like you’ve been working on this for a while.” Ben laid his own fork down.

“A few months. I wanted to tell you, but it’s a little risky. I thought you might make fun of it.”

“What?” Ben gaped, surprised and more than a little offended.

“Well. You’re just always giving me a hard time about the online stuff and not going out, not talking to real people.”

“Yeah. But that’s just jokes. It’s not serious. I mean, you should totally get out of the house more. But I think this is great. I love that you have a dream, and you’re going after it.” Ben reached across the table and gripped Chance’s hand. “No matter what you want to do, I support it. Seriously.”

“Thanks, Ben-Ben.” Chance turned his palm and returned Ben’s embrace. Ben was surprised at the use of his nickname. Chance broke the contact and began eating once more.

“Are there any other secrets you’re keeping from me?” Ben asked, only half joking as he turned his attention back to his own meal.

“Um.” Chance cleared his throat. “No. No.” He didn’t look up.

Ben raised an eyebrow, regarding his boyfriend. “Okay. Good.”

“What about you?” Chance asked between bites.

“What about me what?”

“Any secrets I should know about?” Chance looked up.

Ben immediately thought about Brodie kissing him at the party. That wasn’t a secret. That was nothing, an accident. Ben didn’t have to tell Chance about a silly mistake.

“Wow. You’re taking a long time to answer. Should I be worried?” Chance asked with a smirk.

“What? No. Did I tell you I saw Derek?”

“From high school? Jesus. He was such a dick.” Chance shook his head.

“Yeah. His wife left him. He’s had it kind of rough recently,” Ben explained.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” Chance’s sarcasm didn’t surprise Ben.

“He’s changed a lot.” Ben thought for a second before he continued. “He asked about me being gay.” Ben lowered his voice when he said “gay”.

“What? What did you tell him?” Chance’s fork paused midway to his mouth and he shot glances around the restaurant, obviously checking to see if anyone had heard.

“The truth,” Ben stated.

“Jesus, Ben. Seriously?”

Ben nodded. “It’s not like he’s best friends with your parents. He didn’t even seem to care. I met him for coffee the other day too. I made him promise not to say anything. He won’t.”

“Hm. I guess. He was just always such an ass in school.” Chance took a bite of his burrito, chewed, and swallowed. “He used to call me Lucky.”

“He still does.” Ben chuckled his answer.

“Jesus.” Chance shook his head. “You’re not leaving me for him, are you?”

“God no.”

“Well, that’s good. Anything else?”

Ben thought about the question, about his conversation with Brodie. He’d been thinking about his dream of the first gay bar in Liamsport a lot lately. Could he tell Chance? Chance had shared his own dream. Ben decided against it, changing the subject.

They finished their dinner and ordered dessert. The conversation was light, and Ben found himself feeling the old spark that had seemed to be eluding them lately. Maybe it was the two mojitos or the Riesling, but they walked home hand in hand, and Ben couldn’t have been happier. It seemed to him like each step they took was a step closer to admitting their relationship, to no more lies.

Ben unlocked the door and threw his keys on the table just inside the door. He moved toward the kitchen and the bottle of wine waiting there. As he opened it, Chance joined him, and he was overcome with a desire to touch his boyfriend. He embraced Chance, and their lips met for a perfect moment, a deep kiss that washed away any tension that may have remained. Ben broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Chance’s. “Glass of wine?”

“Sure,” Chance whispered. They split reluctantly. Ben poured them each a glass, and they sat on the bar stools, their legs touching easily. Ben regarded his boyfriend while they sipped their wine, their lips growing dark with color.

Ben’s mind raced with thoughts of the bar, of his dream. He decided to tell Chance everything. “I want to open a bar.”

Chance’s eyebrows shot up toward his hair. “What?”

“I hate working at T.C. McF’s. I want to open my own bar. A gay bar. I have some money saved, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

“Whoa.” Chance set his glass on the counter and rubbed his hands through his hair. “Where did this come from?”

“It’s always been a secret dream of mine. I want a place where anyone who visits can just be who they are without judgment. The restaurant is draining my soul. I need something more.”

“That’s a huge gamble. I thought you were saving that money so we could buy this place.” Chance motioned to the house.

“Originally, yeah. But I really want to do something that means something to me and to our community. McFlannigan’s is so morally bankrupt. It makes me sick to work there,” Ben explained.

“I wish you would have told me this before.” Chance clasped his hands in front of his mouth.

“Before what?” Ben asked.

“I gave the bank a down payment on this house. We’ve been discussing it for so long, and I finally had the money. I decided to actually do it, to commit. Plus having a proper asset would look good if we needed funding for our game.”

“Oh man,” Ben said. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I—I don’t know. Things have been weird for a while. I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

Ben took a gulp of wine. “I didn’t expect this.”

“That makes two of us. A bar? A
gay
bar? Seriously, Ben? What will my parents say? What will your parents say?”

“My parents will say, ‘That’s awesome, son. We’re glad you’re pursuing your dreams.’”

“Well. Maybe. But what about
my
parents?” Chance asked.

“I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care what your parents think anymore. I’m sick of living in fear of them. I thought you’d be happy for me. Like I was happy for you when you told me about your game.”

Chance rubbed his neck. “Well, I admire your intent, certainly, but it’s not the same thing, is it? There’s no monetary gamble with a game.”

“What?”

“We don’t have to pay anything for an idea. You have to buy a liquor license, rent a space. You’ll have to buy product. It’s a huge financial drain.”

“I know that,” Ben said a little too defensively. “But it’s something that means a lot to me. I want you to be happy for me, to help me.” Ben grabbed Chance’s hands. “It could be a place where we could be ourselves without fear of repercussion.”

“I understand your motivation,” Chance said as he squeezed Ben’s hands. “But it’s just not practical. We’ve got too many bills and now the house payments.”

Ben threw off Chance’s grasp. “I never agreed to the house payments!”

“But you said you wanted me to have this house,” Chance retorted. “We were saving. This was the plan!”

“This was your plan,” Ben barked. “I’m sorry.” The night had been so wonderful up to this point, Ben didn’t want to ruin it, and it was spiraling out of control. “I just feel like I’m wasting my life at the restaurant. I want something more.”