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Bennett wafted the air for a brief second, apologized again. “Carpet cleaner is in the basement. Could you grab some candles from the cabinet?” He pointed at a wide, cherry entertainment center with doors on either side and an open face in the middle stacked with electronics. He toed off his shoes and rushed toward the hallway, vanishing down a door as I heard heavy footfalls on creaky wood.
Following his lead, I took off my sneakers and walked over to the leftmost cabinet. I opened the door, ready to grab a candle, when I saw two shelves, each holding a row of DVDs.
All of them were mine.
The top, leftmost DVD was the specific season ofNY Undercoverthat I had guest-starred in for one episode. The second was the B-list movie in which I snagged a supporting role,In Your Sights. I saw the embarrassingly awful horror movie sequel (that I actually had fun filming but came out like shit)Path of the Wicked III. The acclaimed mini-seriesMortal Evidencewas there, the one I had an Emmy nod for.In the Crossfire, fond memories there.Lab Confidential, my second Emmy-nominated role, another full season DVD in which I only starred one episode.
And four seasons ofCode of Justiceas Special Agent Harlan Mercer, even the two spinoffs I had joined for a few episodes now and then. A smattering of side projects filled the gaps of my major works. But there sat everything. The entirety of my IMDb page made manifest, with no other casual DVD that one might have. Like a shrine, almost.
I recalled what Bennett had said to me that day in the kitchen. “What were you doing before all the accusations started flying?”
That liar. He knew everything I had ever done.
A flood of adrenaline hit me.He’s been watching. This whole time. And I what, remember him on occasion when I hear an old Fleetwood Mac song?
I didn’t know if I should have felt unbridled joy that the man never forgot me, or utter shame and regret that clearly all I had to do in the last twelve years was reach out.
Thudding footfalls up the basement stairs. I slammed the cabinet door closed, darted to the rightmost section, pulled open the door, and yanked out the first thing I saw just as Bennett came out of the hallway.
“Lavender?” I asked and shook a cream-purple candle. “Smells great.”
His cheeks were still red from embarrassment. “Great, yeah. Lighter is in the kitchen. Drawer next to the sink. Maybe open a few windows?”
Whirring and the sound of suction filled the house as Bennett fired up a portable upholstery cleaner. I lit the candle and set it on the wooden tray that sat on the ottoman, then threw open all the windows in the living room. Bennett finished up and brought the cleaner back downstairs, returned, and apologized again.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know you had a cat, actually,” I said while standing in the living room with my hands on my hips. I forced myself not to look at the cabinet with my life’s work hidden behind a flimsy wood door. It felt like the shrine stared at me, calling me to look at it again.
“Yeah, you did. You’ve met her.”
I blinked. Let my brain catch up. I needed to look into the deep past. Thankfully, I’d been reminiscing about all my old times with Bennett regularly. “Wait.Patches? Patches is still alive? How the hell old is she now? She was ancient when we were in high school.”
“She’s like twentysomething. We got her as a stray, so I’m not really sure.”
“Wow. That is impressive.”
“She’s blind and mostly deaf. Incontinent sometimes, clearly. Dad’s back is bad enough that he can’t bend over to clean out the box, so I moved her in with me. She mostly stays in the basement.” Bennett spun his body toward the kitchen. “Okay. Do you want some wine? Or beer? I don’t think I have anything to make martinis. Do you like those? Actually, I don’t know what goes in one. Should we—”
“Wine sounds great,” I interrupted, though his rambling was cute. “You should’ve told me. I could have brought something over. We have a cellar full of the good stuff.”
Bennett walked into his kitchen and opened a cabinet next to the white refrigerator. “No need. I already did that.” I wasn’t a wine buff exactly, but I recognized a reserve bottle when I saw one. What a sweet gesture. He’d been preparing for me to come over. “I’ll pour us a glass and I can give you a tour. I need you liquored up, so you’re impressed by mediocrity.”
Need to nip that in the bud. I was on him before he could fish the bottle opener from a drawer. Spun him, his back to the fridge, and stepped inside his personal space. I didn’t kiss him, figuring that was crossing an invisible line that he was slowly revealing to me, and I put both hands beside his head. My cock twitched at the way he had to look up at me, waiting, expecting, wanting.
“Stop saying that,” I said in a gentle tone. “I’m not some stuck up, fancy guy just because I was in a movie. Okay? I still like coffee from a pot. Will eat greasy pizza any day of the week. And drink wine from a damn box because it’s convenient. Please don’t think I’m some snob now. It would kill me if you really thought that.”
I watched his pupils dilate in real time. He licked his lips. My cock hardened even more. Painfully tight in my jeans. My mouth salivated at the thought of my tongue playing with his again. Did he still taste like lemon and honey?
“So,” he said through a whisper, “you’re saying I wasted fifty bucks at the Acton Wine & Beer Stop?”
The tension broke. He was getting good at humoring me. I lowered my hands and stepped back, laughed, and crossed my arms over my chest. “Let me do that,” I said and snatched the bottle from him and pulled the opener from the drawer. He retrieved two stemless glasses from the cupboard and I filled them up.
I held up my glass. “Cheers, Benny.”
A slight tug at the corner of his lips. “Cheers, Conny.”
Ihatedwhen he used to call me that. All I could think of was a grandma who complained about everything.Connie the Miserable Old Hag. He took a sip before I could say anything. I laughed with my eyes as I sipped, not breaking contact to show him, convey to him, that bringing up the past burned the brightest fire in my soul.
Just give me a chance to show you how much I’ve missed you. Take me down to the river, Benny.
