Shoulder Season Page 6

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m all worked up, but I know you’re in no state.”

  “I am, as you say, worked up too,” said Solvin, low. “But—”

  “I think that you’re tired,” said Ben. “So I’m going to make you that omelet and fuss over you a bit, if that’s okay, and make sure you’re in bed before I let myself out.”

  Solvin’s answer was a nod, so Ben gave him that kiss to the top of his head and eased himself off the couch. In the kitchen it was fun to figure out the three-burner stove and find the right pan to cook the omelet in and get the eggs ready. Cooking, so straightforward and methodical, always made Ben feel calm deep down inside. Besides, the results were usually pretty good, and even when they weren’t, it was fun to do. To add to this feeling that came to him now, he was making this rather large omelet for him and Solvin, and he would make sure Solvin had something to eat before he went to bed. And in the morning, Ben would think less about going home and more about staying. At least for a while.

  When he brought the plate and two forks over to the couch, Solvin was half-asleep, his eyes a little glazed and not quite focused on the TV.

  “Here,” said Ben as he sat down on the couch next to Solvin. He handed Solvin one of the forks. “Have a little something to eat, okay? I shouldn’t have given you that beer.”

  “It was only a little,” said Solvin.

  It was easy to see that he meant it. It wasn’t Ben’s fault at all, and Solvin wasn’t going to yell at him about it. What’s more, he sat up and started eating the omelet with great delight, his lips glistening with butter. Alan would have mocked the homemade meal and insisted they get takeout, or better yet, go to a restaurant on the Pearl Street Mall where they could see and be seen, as though they were a couple of rock stars or something.

  Ben shut this thought down. He was with Solvin, and Solvin was enjoying the omelet and seemed rather appreciative as he scooted close so their shoulders touched while they finished their small meal together. Then Ben’s phone rang.

  When he looked at the phone, he realized it had been on silent and that Alan had left at least ten messages. Back home in Colorado, this would have been grounds for a huge, drag-out fight. Ben didn’t want to talk to Alan, especially not now, but if he left it, the messages, each one angrier than the last, would only keep coming. He had to take care of this now so he stood up and pulled his phone out of his back pocket and swiped his thumb to answer.

  “Still not talking to me, you jerk?”

  It was Alan. By the sound of his voice, he wasn’t drunk, but there was chatter in the background, both in German and in English, so Alan probably had an audience and was showing off.

  “I’m not not talking to you, Alan,” said Ben. “I see you’ve left a ton of messages, but I’m very busy right now and have to go.”

  This set Alan off and, in less than a heartbeat, he was screaming into the phone, and Ben could not get a word in edgewise nor understand most of what Alan was saying. He was about to clamp his hand over his other ear to try to hear better, but then, as he caught Solvin’s eyes with his own, he realized it didn’t matter. Nothing about Alan mattered. Alan had broken up with him and was now trying to get some mileage out of the aftermath. Ben pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the hang-up button. The phone returned to the screen saver, which showed a mossy green forest. He thought he’d change the screen saver soon, as it now only reminded him of Alan.

  “Listen,” said Ben as his heart slowed down from the way it had sped up as he’d talked to Alan. “You should get to bed. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  It was on Solvin’s face that he was going to ask Ben to stay, and it was in Ben’s heart to say yes, even if it was only to sleep. But Solvin shook his head, and then changed his mind and nodded. Ben went over to him and helped him up from the couch.

  “I can manage everything,” said Solvin. He slipped his arm around Solvin’s waist. “I can, but if you could just stay here until I’m in bed. I don’t want to fall again, but if I do—”

  “I’ll be right here,” said Ben. “Let me help you to the bathroom, and then I’ll wait till you’re in bed and lock the door behind me, okay?”

  “Takk fyrir,” said Solvin. “Thank you very much.”

  Ben helped Solvin as they hobbled over to the bathroom door. It wasn’t very far, but Solvin seemed to be leaning on him a good bit, though Ben didn’t feel at all like complaining. He waited while Solvin completed his ablutions and then helped him to the bed. It must have been the meds and the beer combined made Solvin a little un-self-conscious, for he sat down and began peeling off his clothes, and it happened so fast that Ben didn’t have a chance to shut his eyes or turn away. There were fading bruises along half of Solvin’s body, and his movements reflected that he must have felt stiff all over. Then as Solvin attempted to slide himself between the covers, Ben, on impulse, moved forward to help him. He settled the pillows beneath Solvin’s head and pulled the comforter and sheet up the rest of the way.

  As he leaned forward to kiss Solvin on the forehead, Solvin smiled up at him, a little blearily, but the smile was genuine, and he put his hand on Ben’s cheek.

  “You are good to me,” said Solvin.

  “I’d like to be better,” said Ben without thinking. His face grew hot, and he wanted to smack himself upside his own head for being so brazen.

  Instead of getting mad, Solvin circled his arm around Ben’s neck and pulled Ben down to him so either he had to sit on the bed next to him or fall over. For a long moment, Solvin hugged him, and Ben realized he’d scooped Solvin up in his arms, blanket and all. The embrace was gentle, but it grew warm quite quickly, so Ben pulled back and smoothed Solvin’s hair from his face.

  “I’m going to get you a glass of water,” said Ben. “And leave your pain meds close by in case you need them. Can I check on you in the morning?”

  “Yes,” said Solvin. “I wish you would.”

  Solvin stroked Ben’s arm, a trusting, gentle gesture that made Ben want to crawl beneath the comforter and curl up next to Solvin. But Solvin was doped up on meds and needed to sleep, so Ben would let him.

  “I told all my friends to back off,” said Solvin. “They fussed and kept fussing, and you’re fussing now, except I like it when you do it.”

  “Then I’ll do it some more tomorrow,” said Ben. He had wondered where anybody was who cared about Solvin, and why they weren’t around, so he was glad to hear that they did exist, only Solvin didn’t want them. He wanted Ben. “I’ll check back tomorrow, okay? And then we’ll—”

  “We’ll go to the Blue Lagoon,” said Solvin, quite sleepy now.

  “The what?” asked Ben. He had no idea what that was, but of course, he should have done more research before coming to Iceland.

  “Hot springs,” said Solvin. “I’ll check with my doctor, but I’m sure she’ll approve.”

  “Okay then,” said Ben. “Let me get that water.”

  He helped Solvin to lie back and bustled about in a pleasant way to get a glass of water and the bottles of pain meds. These he put on Solvin’s nightstand, and then he bent down to kiss Solvin on the forehead and pull up the comforter snug around his broad shoulders.

  “If you need anything, just holler. I’m right next door.” Ben allowed himself one single stroke of Solvin’s cheek before he turned out the light, grabbed his coat and sweater, and tiptoed out, pressing the lock before shutting Solvin’s door behind him.

  The air outside of Solvin’s apartment was sharp and crisp, and it was almost dark. This made the lights over each apartment door shine like silver in the falling rain, and Ben hustled himself inside his own rented apartment. The heat had kicked on, so it wasn’t chilly, but as the place was not his own, as he switched on the light he had the feeling of stepping into an empty beige box. There were no touches of home, no bits of the items that said that someone lived there, just a spoon on the counter he’d forgotten to wash and a single black sock that had made its wa
y across the carpet and into the middle of the living room. To top it off, there was no Solvin, who, in Ben’s mind’s eye, filled the room with warmth and movement and a sense of energy that felt wonderful. Nice wasn’t a bad word, it was a good one, especially as it described everything Solvin made Ben feel. Everything good. Nothing bad. It made a good change, a positive change.

  Ben went into the apartment, checked the thermostat, and changed into his sweatpants. Along the way, he picked up the sock and took care of the spoon, and, wishing he had a beer to drink, turned on the TV to watch the rest of the British crime drama that he and Solvin had been watching. There were only about fifteen minutes left in the program, but it gave Ben the space to think. Something was happening between him and Solvin, and it was happening very quickly without any effort on his part. With Alan, he’d always had to work to say the right thing, do the right things— No. He wasn’t going to think like that anymore. Alan didn’t deserve the time or the energy, and besides, compared to Solvin, Alan would always come up short, so it was time, definitely time, to stop comparing the two.

  Besides, thinking about Solvin, about him and Solvin together, felt right; it felt true to his heart in all the ways it should.

  When the program was over, Ben turned off the TV, checked the front door, used the bathroom, and then turned off the lights before crawling into bed. The comforter was new and barely used and crackled in his ears as he pulled it up to his neck. When he was still, the room was perfectly quiet, as if Iceland had a thing about cutting off all noise from the outside world so that its citizens could get a good night’s sleep. Which was just the way Ben liked it. Back in Boulder, there was always noise from the street, either from cars or trucks or people. Here the silence became a soothing white noise that filled Ben’s head with a great sense of quiet and peace, and he was asleep before he realized it.

  IN THE morning Ben was up and dressed and ready to go and was out the door in under five minutes. He didn’t want to waste any time, and not being with Solvin felt like wasted time. As he stood outside of Solvin’s door in the chilly morning air, he zipped up his jacket and then knocked. Ben wondered if it was too early (what was early to an Icelander?) and whether it might turn out that Solvin wanted to stay at home today.

  But before Ben could knock again, the door opened, and there stood Solvin. He had his jacket and hat on, his phone against his ear, and his cane in his other hand. He waved Ben to come in, and when Ben stepped inside, he saw a small gray rucksack on Solvin’s couch and wondered what it was for.

  “Ja, ja,” said Solvin into the phone. “Takk fyrir.” Then he hung up the phone and stuffed it in his coat pocket as he turned to Ben with a smile.

  “I’ve been given permission to go to the Blue Lagoon today,” said Solvin.

  “You need permission?” asked Ben, though he was mostly joking as he stood there with his hands in his jacket pockets, smiling like an idiot at Solvin.

  “Well, not really,” said Solvin. “But my doctor has been taking good care of me so far, so I don’t want to jinx it by going against her wishes.”

  “I see,” said Ben, and really it was quite funny to be having such an ordinary conversation when all he wanted to do was be close to Solvin, to hug him, to tumble him on the couch and smother him with kisses. It felt so good to be with somebody who was easy to get along with and who didn’t take offense at every little word or gesture. Instead Solvin seemed to like the things Ben said and did, and indeed, seemed to like Ben just like he was.

  “What’s that for?” asked Ben as he pointed at the rucksack on the couch.

  “It’s got my swimming trunks in it,” said Solvin. “And a pair for you, if you need them. The towels and shoes and things we rent at the Blue Lagoon.”

  “Oh,” said Ben. If he’d been better prepared for Iceland, he’d already have known about the Blue Lagoon and brought along the required trunks. Now he was being given the opportunity to wear Solvin’s, which did certain and not unpleasant things to his insides. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve already called a cab,” said Solvin. “I don’t like to eat before I swim, but we can eat at the restaurant after, would that be okay?”

  “Yes,” said Ben because nothing could be better than being with Solvin for what sounded like a very long span of time. They could have gone to a rock museum, for all he cared, as long as he could look at those blue eyes and see the warmth of Solvin’s smile.

  A car horn sounded in the street, and Solvin turned to Ben, and for the first time Ben saw a bit of concern in Solvin’s expression.

  “What is it?” asked Ben, fully prepared to pay for the cab, get his own swim trunks or whatever it was that Solvin needed.

  “Could you carry that?” asked Solvin in tones that were so resigned and hating to ask for even such a small favor that Ben had to fight a smile.

  “Yes, of course,” said Ben, and to prove it, he rushed to lift up the rucksack and sling it over one shoulder, turning to Solvin in a jaunty way to let him know it was no trouble, no trouble at all. “You ready? Let’s go.”

  He walked forward and offered Solvin his right arm, forgetting at the last minute that Solvin’s shoulder might still be bothering him, even if he wasn’t wearing the sling any longer. Solvin lowered Ben’s elbow gently and took Ben’s hand instead.

  “This is nice,” said Solvin, and again Ben wanted to laugh because those were exactly his thoughts. Which, as he realized, might be the exact right thing to share.

  “Yes, it is nice,” said Ben. He kissed Solvin quickly on the cheek, picked up the house keys from the stand by the door, and gave them to Solvin. “Very nice.”

  The cab ride to the Blue Lagoon took almost an hour, and they followed a tidy blacktop two-lane road way out into the country, where there was nothing but open land, lion-colored brown edged by low, dark bluffs and topped by a blue sky that was laced with clouds. A constant breeze blew the grasses sideways, though several specks of grazing sheep seemed to ignore the incoming bad weather and kept on grazing. Ben leaned against the door with Solvin in his arms, Solvin who seemed to be half dozing, his golden lashes long against his rosy cheeks.

  “Comfortable?” asked Ben at one point, just to make sure.

  “Yes,” said Solvin. “Very.”

  The cab driver didn’t seem at all curious or offended that two men were cuddling in his back seat, but then, this was Iceland, where a fellow would really have to do something radical, like strip himself naked, paint himself bright purple, and run down the street screaming at the top of his lungs to get any attention at all. Ben tightened his arm around Solvin’s shoulder and swept his fair hair back from his forehead, not because it needed doing, but because he wanted to. His reward was Solvin looking up at him in that steadfast and peaceful way that let him know Solvin was perfectly content to be where he was.

  By the time they arrived at the parking lot for the Blue Lagoon, their drive had been so peaceful that Ben felt as relaxed as if he’d already spent an hour or more at a spa. The driver drove past the walls of black basalt and took them to the front entrance, left his business card with Solvin, and nodded as he accepted Solvin’s pass for payment. Ben offered his hand to Solvin, who took it, and together they made their way to the front door. People kindly made a little path for Solvin on account of the cane, and a man even stopped to hold open the door for Solvin, who didn’t altogether look as though he enjoyed this.

  “They should be looking at your handsome face, not my limp,” said Solvin somewhat crossly, though it only made Ben smile.

  “Handsome face, you say?” he asked, half-joking, half-disbelieving.

  “Very handsome,” said Solvin with a little rise of his eyebrows. “So different with your dark hair and green eyes—”

  Solvin turned away, blushing, and this reserve, this shyness, drew Ben toward him in a way he’d never felt before. He touched Solvin’s chin and lifted it up so he could look at Solvin and smile to reassure him. A quick kiss would have been better, but the lobby
was crowded and there were lots of people in the line waiting for them to move forward. When they got to the counter, a fresh-faced clerk explained in Icelandic the options available, gestured at the sign behind her, and smiled and nodded when Solvin spoke. Then he heard the amount of the one Solvin had chosen, and quickly pulled out his phone to calculate the conversion from krona to dollars.

  “That’s almost a hundred bucks each,” Ben sputtered, his mouth open.

  “Yes,” said Solvin, quite calmly. “But I am worth it, and you are especially worth it for all the help you’ve been to me.”

  “Are you paying me for the help?” asked Ben, his voice sharp, and he realized they were on the verge of a quarrel even before they’d properly gotten to know each other or shared more than a kiss and a cuddle.

  Solvin’s eyebrows dipped at the tone in Ben’s voice, and then he seemed to pause a moment before speaking.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Solvin said. “You’ve been so nice to me that I wanted to do something nice for you, and even then, it’s not enough—just being with you is—”

  Ben felt sorry before he even drew a full breath. Solvin’s intentions were good from the get-go; he wasn’t trying to manipulate Ben or guilt him into anything. He merely wanted to make a nice gesture, and Ben had almost screwed it up.

  “I’m sorry, that was my fault,” said Ben. He thought about how Alan always paid for everything and was so mean about it and expected Ben to do exactly what Alan wanted. But this idea was way too complicated to explain to someone he’d only just met. “I’m so used to—well, I’m used to different kinds of people, you know?”

  “Yes,” said Solvin. He reached out to touch Ben’s nose with the tip of his finger, and it was such a gentle thing, acknowledgment and forgiveness all at once, that Ben felt his stomach do a flip-flop. “I know.”