Page 143 of The Bartender Special

“No one can tell you what to feel, but I think you should feel proud of yourself,” he’d said, thoughtful for a moment. “Not everyone can see they’re in a hole. Let alone decide they want to crawl out of it. You did good, kid. Real good.”

In true best friend fashion, that had been that.

Ethan hadn’t been upset and Benny had apologized for the lies. They’d put in a movie, not really watched it, and then they’d slept on the couches in the living room like they were kids again.

In the morning, Ethan had left.

Now, it was time for lunch and Cal grabbed a spoon from the drawer next to Benny. He scooped out a bite of ice cream.

When he was done with it, he leaned back against the countertop and sighed.

“I think it’s time I finally tell you something I probably should have told you years ago.” He rolled the spoon between his fingers as he started. “You were—what, twelve?—when you broke your arm at the skating rink and had to get surgery? Thirteen?”

“Thirteen,” Benny confirmed, eyebrow raising. “Ladarius Watts and I were racing and I ran into his little cousin. Why?”

Cal didn’t answer the direct question.

He stared ahead, gaze somewhere past the kitchen doorway.

“I remember how loud you were about not wanting to be put to sleep for the surgery because it scared you,” he continued. “The thought of being awake and then bam hours go by and there are screws in your arm.” He laughed. “I remember Mom had to calm you down and Dad had to calm her down.”

“And I remember you made fun of me for falling,” Benny poked.

Cal laughed again but didn’t deny it.

Then, a shift happened in him.

He sobered.

Benny, curious, leaned over a little, the ice cream carton cold in his hands.

“What you probably don’t remember is when you were waking up afterwards and coming off of the anesthesia and absolutely babbling nonsense.” Cal was right, he didn’t remember that part. There had been a gap between being put to sleep and waking up later to the nurse asking if he needed to use the bathroom. He hadn’t remembered babbling. Though, considering it was him, that wasn’t uncommon.

“We were in this recovery room for a bit, just the four of us,” Cal continued. “And you just kept worrying about every little thing in existence. Worrying about tests, about homework, about Ethan messing up the book you let him borrow, about how your favorite show was going to end—you even started to worry about things that were nowhere near time to worry about. That’s when you asked Mom a question that you’d never asked before.”

Cal turned his face toward Benny’s. He was smiling a little.

“‘What if my future husband expects me to cook even though I hate cooking?’”

Benny felt his eyes widen.

“I asked that? But I-I hadn’t come out yet.” At thirteen he hadn’t even fully accepted the idea of being gay yet himself.

Cal nodded.

“Well, we all heard it pretty loud and clear in there. And not only did you ask it, but you also actually waited for an answer.”

Benny couldn’t believe it.

He had absolutely no memory of mentioning a husband to his parents. Under medication or otherwise.

But now, years later, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of worry spreading through him.

“And… What did they say? Mom and Dad.”

Cal stopped rolling the spoon between his fingers.

He looked ahead again, and this time Benny was sure he was back in that room, in that memory.