Something Like Winter (21 page)

Tim doubted that. He was a
latest-and-greatest kind of guy when it came to cars. But hell, if
it brought Travis around, maybe he would sell his car for an old
junker. Travis sang the praises of a Road Runner for a while, Tim’s
focus split between where they were going and Travis’s need for a
normal life. Once Tim had yearned for the same thing, but he knew
now that it was impossible. He could pretend, and would probably
have to his entire life, but nothing would ever be normal for him
again.

Tim turned his attention to
their surroundings before he became even more disoriented. Most of
the houses were set back in the trees, with only the driveways and
spindly mailboxes indicating where the residences were. Tim slowed
next to each, reading the number before driving farther along as
the curving roads rose with the hills.

“
Are we lost?” Travis
asked.

“
Quentin smirked when he
mentioned this guy,” Tim said. “Probably because he knew his house
would be so damn hard to find. Left or right?” he asked at a fork
in the road.

“
Right.”

Travis’s guess was lucky
because they found the correct address just two properties down.
Tim pulled into the driveway and parked in front of a separate
garage that looked outdated rather than ritzy. The rest of the
house was pure money, if not from sheer size then from the
complexity of the design. The owner must have gotten the architect
high before showing him a bunch of Picasso’s cubist paintings.
Wood, iron, stone, wire—it seemed any material possible was
integrated to create the right lines and definitions. Viewed from
afar, Tim had no doubt the house was a work of art. Up close, it
appeared confused at best, the white cube buildings arranged
together awkwardly. Then again, the design was gutsy and wholly
original.

“
Whoever lives here must be
crazy,” Travis said.

“
Eccentric,” Tim corrected.
“The rich are eccentric.”

“
What’s this guy
called?”

Tim checked the list again.
“Eric Conroy. Let’s go say hello.”

They took their time
walking to the front door, scoping out the whole thing. When Tim
rang the doorbell, he expected to hear a bizarre noise, maybe a
baaing sheep, but the chime sounded as normal as could be. Nor was
there anything unusual about the man who opened the door. He was
older, his hair charcoal gray and his build small. His clothing
didn’t seem expensive, the navy blue shirt and gray slacks
appearing comfortable and worn. He arched a brow and waited for
them to address him.

“
Eric Conroy?”

“
Yes. Let me guess. Alpha
Theta Sigma.”

Tim grinned. “How did you
know?”

“
Oh, something about your
appearance.” Eric winked and motioned them in.

Most large houses have a
huge entryway built to impress or a staircase curving up to the
second floor. This house had neither. Beyond the front door was a
comfortable sitting room, almost like a hotel lobby. Practical,
since Eric was able to offer them a seat without leading them
through his home. Four couches embroidered with gold thread faced
each other. A mini-bar in one corner stood near an unlit fireplace.
Tim could see a guest bathroom through one door and a glimpse of
the rest of the house beyond another. He and Travis took a seat
next to each other, Eric sitting across from them.

“
Something to drink?” he
offered.

“
I’m fine.
Travis?”

“
No. Thank you,
sir.”

“
How polite,” Eric said.
“Travis, is it? And you are?”

“
Tim.” He half-stood to
offer his hand, which Eric rose to take without a firm grip or a
hearty shake—like holding hands for the briefest of moments. Then
the process was repeated with Travis, who pumped Eric’s arm up and
down like a proper country boy.

“
It’s always good to meet a
brother,” Travis said with an appealing grin.

Tim wished fleetingly that
he could get Travis to smile at him like that before turning his
full attention to Eric. “This is a beautiful home,” he said. “Are
you the original owner?”

“
Yes,” Eric said. “I had it
built some years ago, before you were even born, I’d
wager.”

“
Did you design it
yourself?”

“
I had input into it.
Why?”

“
I’m just wondering if
you’re a fan of cubism.” If this worked, Tim just knew a fat check
was waiting for them. “Picasso, maybe?”

Eric nodded in
appreciation. “I’m more a fan of his friend Georges
Braque.”

Close enough.
“
Man with a Guitar?
”

“
Violin and
Candlestick.
” Eric laughed. “I’m going to
have to see some identification. You can’t be from the
fraternity.”

“
If it makes you feel
better,” Travis chipped in, “I have no idea what you two are on
about.”

“
Your friend is wowing me
with his knowledge of art,” Eric explained.

“
Just don’t quiz me,” Tim
said, “or you’ll find out how limited that knowledge
is.”

“
Well, you have countless
years to brush up on the old masters.” Eric leaned back, seeming
more relaxed. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Air conditioner
broken again? Or is it the roof?”

“
Both,” Tim laughed. “I
take it we hit you up every year.”

“
Always in pairs,” Eric
nodded. “Last year it was Corey and Stephen, the year before
Quentin and Jerry, if I’m not mistaken.”

“
Quentin is still around,”
Tim said. “The others must have graduated.”

“
Or been kicked out,” Eric
said, his smile fading.

Tim wasn’t sure what to
make of that. “Let’s hope not. When were you a brother?”

“
Oh, don’t make me reveal
my age. And to be honest, I’m no longer a member of Alpha Theta
Sigma—not even an alumnus. I’m afraid you’ve been sent here as a
joke.”

Tim shook his head. “But
you were a member once.”

“
Once.” Eric swiftly
changed the subject. “That accent, Travis, are you from
Tennessee?”

“
Kentucky,” Travis said.
“I’m from Bowling Green.”

“
Ah, not far from the state
line, then. I had a cousin from Clarksville with a similar accent
that I could listen to all day.”

Eric and Travis bantered on
for a while, giving Tim time to figure out the situation. Eric
might have parted with the fraternity on unhappy terms, but Tim
still didn’t understand why being sent here was a joke. A waste of
time maybe, but Eric seemed like a personable guy with good taste.
Unless Tim was missing something. He looked Eric over for clues. No
wedding ring, the gentle handshake, the tidy appearance. On their
own, these things didn’t really have meaning. There was no surefire
way of knowing. But maybe…

“
If there’s something I can
do for you,” Tim said when conversation died down, “just let me
know. I mean, if you were kicked out of the fraternity, that
doesn’t mean you can’t be let back in. Time heals all
wounds.”

Eric appeared amused. “Time
can also create wounds. Some issues are even hotter now than when I
was young.”

“
Such as?” Tim
prompted.

Eric’s tone grew serious.
“Who one chooses to love.”

Bingo. Tim played innocent.
“You mean going after another brother’s girl?”

“
Or after another brother.”
Eric’s smile was bitter. “So now you know why your brothers sent
you up here. I was caught in a compromising situation, which I’m
sure you’ll hear all about when you return. The story has become
legendary and no doubt exaggerated. Every year two of you are sent
here, and every year that pair leaves empty-handed.”

“
Things change,” Tim
said.

Eric shook his head. “Not
that much, they don’t. Not in that fraternity.”

“
I’m gay.”

“
Really?
” Eric’s disbelief was more
than apparent.

Tim let a slow, cocky grin
spread over his face. “Yeah. Want me to prove it?” He looked over
at Travis, one of the stupidest things he had ever done. Travis was
already tense, but when Tim looked at him, he shot up off the couch
and headed for the front door.

Tim swore, standing to
follow. Eric stood too. Lord only knew what he thought. Probably
that Tim was playing him and was willing to do something gay for
the money, but that his friend wasn’t. “Sorry,” he said as the
front door slammed. “He’s got issues.”

Tim turned to give chase,
car keys in hand, and was at the front door when Eric called
out.

“
Wait!”

“
I really have to get after
him,” Tim said.

“
He won’t get far. Just a
moment.”

Tim turned, but Eric had
already left the room. He thought about leaving. Staying was
pointless, and Travis was getting farther away by the second. “Come
on, old man,” Tim muttered under his breath, jumping when Eric
appeared one second later, holding out a check.

“
What’s this?” Tim
asked.

“
What you came here for.”
Eric waved the check until Tim took it. “I hope things have changed
as much as you say they have. Now get after your friend and be
patient. We’ve all been there, haven’t we?”

“
Yeah, we have.
Thanks.”

As appreciative as Tim was,
Travis was his only concern right now. He bolted out the door, but
needn’t have worried. Travis was sitting in the passenger seat,
glaring at the empty space ahead.

“
You okay?” Tim said as he
climbed in.

“
Let’s just get out of
here.”

“
Yeah, okay.” Tim didn’t
start the car. “Nothing happened. He doesn’t know about you. Just
me.”

“
That’s not it,” Travis
said. “Why do you think the brothers sent us up here?”

“
Like Eric said, every
year—”

“
But you and me
specifically. They know.”

“
That’s it?” Tim felt like
laughing. “When Quentin gave me the list, he only noticed Eric’s
name at the last minute. Believe me, it was pure chance that we got
sent here.”

“
You sure?”

“
Yes! You’ve seriously got
to chill!” Tim looked down at the check. “Besides, we’re going to
have the last laugh.”

“
How so?”

Tim handed Travis the check
and watched his green eyes grow wide at the sight of a one followed
by four zeros.

Chapter
Thirteen

When they returned to the
fraternity house that night, a party was in full swing. He and
Travis had collected eight checks total, and while none were nearly
as generous as Eric’s, they had managed to scrape together a fair
amount of cash. Plus a free meal, since the last alumnus they
visited insisted on taking them out to dinner.

Girls crowded the house,
the guys being obnoxiously loud to impress them. Tim walked from
room to room, hoping to tell Quentin the good news. He lost Travis
somewhere along the way, but wasn’t worried. The day had been nice,
Eric’s fat check cheering Travis up and returning everything to
normal.

Tim failed to find Quentin,
who was probably boning some sorority girl. Not in the mood for the
noise after such a long day, Tim grabbed a beer and headed to his
room. To his surprise, Travis was already in bed.

“
Yeah, I’m tired too,” Tim
said, finding an old envelope for the checks and stashing them in a
drawer. When he turned around, Travis patted the bed. An
invitation—even if he appeared scared shitless.

“
Oh!” Tim grinned and
headed straight for him.

“
Is the door
locked?”

He made sure it was,
stripping off his clothes on the way back. Then he slid between the
sheets and wrapped his arms around one hundred and ninety pounds of
pure Kentucky muscle.

When they awoke the next
morning, neither had the smell of stale alcohol on their breath,
nor did Travis jolt upright and give a tired speech of regret.
Instead he rolled over to see if Tim was awake, his grin goofy when
their eyes met.

“
Good morning,” Tim
murmured.

“
Morning!”

“
How do you
feel?”

For a moment the grin
faltered. They weren’t out of the woods quite yet. “It’s a lot
better when I can actually remember what we did.”

“
I’ll take that as a
compliment. Ready for round two?”

But the longhorn cut these
plans short.

“
Another fund-raising day,”
Tim said with a sigh. “Hey, maybe Quentin will give us the day off
once he sees what we came back with.”

They felt self-assured
enough that they took showers—separately to Tim’s dismay—before
heading downstairs to the common room. Quentin was already dishing
out new assignments or criticizing poor performance. When he
noticed Tim standing there he waved him over.

“
How did you
do?”