By the Creek (14 page)

They lapsed into silence, with David just holding Benjamin. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the woods accompany his happiness.

“Do you ever wish things could always be like this?” Benjamin asked after a while.

“Yes, I do. But they can’t, I know that.” David sighed and let his hands wander over Benjamin’s smooth stomach and chest. He heard Benjamin give a small contented moan.

The two of them sat together, holding one another and talking softly.

“Look,” Benjamin said, quietly turning his head toward the far side of the clearing. A deer had wandered out of the trees and stood still, staring at them. Neither Benjamin nor David moved; they simply stared back, watching as the deer continued looking at them before lowering its head to feed. The wind must have been coming from just the right direction, because for at least ten minutes it paid them little attention. Then a breeze came up, and it lifted its head, sniffed the wind, and took off into the trees. “That was beautiful,” Benjamin said, and David nodded.

“It was very special,” David murmured, “and so are you.” He kissed Benjamin’s cheek before lightly nuzzling the base of his neck.

Benjamin began to shift. “I better get back to my chores or Papa will be mad. He knows I was coming to see you, and if I’m late getting back, he won’t be happy.” Benjamin moved out of David’s arms and pulled on his shirt. David tugged on his own shirt and looked around the clearing. There was no sign of the deer and it was like it had never been there, but he knew it had, and they’d been able to share something David knew was special.

“Winter will be coming soon,” David said sadly, and Benjamin nodded—they both knew what that meant: they wouldn’t be coming to the creek. It was often too slippery and dangerous. “My mother has offered to have you come to dinner. Maybe this winter you could do that. Then at least we could see one another.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll see what Papa has to say.” With the mention of his father, Benjamin’s expression turned sad. “He wants me to be baptized soon and he keeps hinting that I should start courting in the next little while,” Benjamin said. “I don’t want to court anyone but you, and I don’t think I can make believe with a girl. There are none I really like….”

“Don’t worry about things until they happen.” David’s heart sank at the thought of Benjamin disappearing into Amish society with a wife his father picked out for him. The image of Benjamin with anyone else was enough to get his blood boiling, but he needed to remain calm. “Just take your time and tell your father you aren’t ready to make that decision yet.”

“I shouldn’t have to until next spring or summer because of Rumspringa, but he’s already talking about it.” Benjamin moved into David’s arms, and they exchanged a deep hug before kissing hard. Then Benjamin stepped away, and they walked down the path along the creek. At the fork, David said good-bye to Benjamin and began walking across the field.

After taking a few steps, he turned and saw Benjamin between the trees, staring at him. David waved, and Benjamin returned the gesture before disappearing from view. David turned and hurried to reach the house before his mother came home. He still had chores to do, and there would be hell to pay if they weren’t done. Summer was waning, though, and there wouldn’t be many days left where he could see Benjamin. And he wanted, no,
needed
, to make the most of it.

Chapter 12

“
Y
OU
miss Benjamin, don’t you?” his mother asked, as David stared out the window, watching the snow come down. “I’ve told you to invite him to dinner,” his mother said as she came up behind him. “Benjamin is more than a friend to you, isn’t he?”

“Mom…,” David protested.

“Please, I’m not blind. I see the way you light up when you talk about him. Does he know how you feel?” she asked softly, and David turned away from the glass to face her.

“Yes, he does,” David answered a bit nervously. If his mother could put things together, then maybe Benjamin’s family could too, and who knew what would happen then.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” his mother asked, and David’s temper rose, his body stiffening. “Don’t think about getting short with me. I’m not questioning your feelings. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Benjamin would never hurt me,” David said with conviction.

“Maybe not, but he may not have much say in the matter. You know he can’t be gay and Amish. They won’t accept him, and eventually, he’s going to have to make a choice.” She touched his shoulder gently. “I know how you feel—I felt the same way about your father. His family didn’t want him to marry me. His mother didn’t think I was good enough for her little boy and the old bat hated me until the day she died, and for a period of time, he and I broke up.”

“I didn’t know that,” David said, and his mother nodded.

“Hardest two months of my life until I lost him for good. But he finally stood up to his family and told them to take a hike. Then he stood outside my window with a huge bunch of flowers and begged me to take him back.”

“It worked out for you,” David challenged.

“I know, and I hope it does for you, too, but you’re young, and so is he.” She moved closer and hugged him. “I want you to be happy, but I’m worried, okay? It’s a mother’s prerogative.”

“I know. You’ve said so many times.”

“Smartass,” she told him, swatting David on the behind before he could get away. “Come into the kitchen and set the table. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes, and we’re not eating in front of the idiot box.” She turned and left the room, and David followed her and went to get the silverware to set the table.

T
HE
late January snow seemed to continue for days. Not heavy, but continuous lake-effect snow. By the time it stopped, David was so ready to see the sun he could hardly stand it. There was no way they could meet by the creek, there was just too much snow, so David decided to take a chance and wander across the street. He bundled up and crossed the road before walking to the buggy drive. He got about halfway down it before he noticed how utterly quiet it was. No one was out and about, and there were very few tracks in the snow. Those he saw went from houses to barns, but that was it. Everyone must have hunkered down because of the weather.

He’d almost reached Benjamin’s house when the front door opened and Benjamin stepped out, hurrying toward him. “Is something wrong?” Benjamin looked half ready to spring into action.

“No,” David said, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets to give him something to do with them. “I came over to see if you could do something.” He wasn’t sure how to ask what he wanted to ask without getting Benjamin in trouble. “I’ve been moping around the house because of the snow for days, and my mother wanted me to ask you if you could join us for dinner tomorrow night.” David knew that for most people this wouldn’t be a big deal, but for Benjamin, and more accurately Benjamin’s family, this would be a huge step that they might not let Benjamin take.

“I think I’d like that,” Benjamin said. He began walking out toward the road, and David followed. He longed to kiss and touch him, but pushed those thoughts away. He couldn’t do that here. “I asked Papa about the possibility when you asked me a while ago, but he wasn’t happy about it and that’s why I couldn’t come. I think he’s afraid I’m becoming too English.”

David tilted his head to the side. “Then how do you know you can come now?”

“Mama told him it was only dinner and everyone locked up in the house was making her crazy, so he said it was okay as long as I got a proper invitation.” Benjamin smiled. “And you did that. What time should I come over?”

“Dinner is usually at six, but you can come once you have your chores done. Mom says we’ll adjust the mealtime so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Okay,” Benjamin agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” They reached the road, and Benjamin smiled and said good-bye. David crossed the road, walking the rest of the way home with his feet barely touching the ground. Yes, his mother was going to be there, so they wouldn’t be able to do anything other than talk, but Benjamin would be there with him, and that was enough for now. He wished there was some way they could spend time alone together, but that wasn’t possible.

T
HE
next day was Saturday, and David had to work the lunch shift at the Dairy Barn. Once he was done, he drove home carefully, thankful there hadn’t been more snow, and parked in the driveway. When he stepped inside, it was obvious that his mother had spent half the day cooking. “Geez, Mom, it’s just Benjamin.”

“I want to make a good impression. It isn’t every day you meet your son’s first boyfriend.”

“Don’t say things like that around Benjamin. I told him he could talk to you if he felt he needed to, and he might, but he’s really shy, and he doesn’t know that you know, okay? I want him to feel comfortable.”

His mother opened the oven door and checked what was inside before closing it again. “Okay. I promise to be good and not embarrass you… too much.”

“Mom,” David groaned but said nothing more. That was probably the most he was going to get out of her. She’d been itching to meet Benjamin for months. She’d seen him a few times because David had pointed him out when he was out in the field as they drove by, but they’d never actually met or talked, and David was really hoping they would connect somehow. Benjamin needed someone other than him to talk to, and David didn’t know who else he could trust enough to help.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and David hurried to open it, his mother right behind him. Benjamin stepped inside, carrying something wrapped in a bit of plain blue-checked cloth.

“Benjamin, this is my mother.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Harper,” Benjamin said formally and handed her what he’d brought. “My mother sent some of her wild berry preserves.”

David watched his mother open the package and grin. “This looks delicious, thank you,” she said. “You and David can sit in the living room while I finish getting dinner ready.” She turned and went back into the kitchen. David opened the hall closet and hung up Benjamin’s coat.

“Would you like to watch television?” David asked. “I know you’ve seen it before, but we could watch something if you like.” David picked up the remote and started to turn on the set.

Benjamin shook his head. “Papa made me promise that I wouldn’t do that. I think he thinks that it will instantly corrupt me.” Benjamin smiled, and David set the remote on the coffee table.

“I put the photo albums in there,” his mother said from the kitchen. “Why don’t you show them to Benjamin?” David could tell his mother was getting way too much delight out of the idea, but Benjamin seemed to like the idea too, so David picked up the top album and opened it, groaning at the first picture.

“That’s me as a baby,” David explained. “And that’s a picture of my mom, dad, and me when they brought me home from the hospital.” David heard Benjamin chuckle and turned the page. “They looked so happy.”

“You were cute back then,” Benjamin said before turning to David. “There are no pictures of me like that. We don’t take photographs and don’t like to be photographed. It’s considered a graven image.”

“For my mom, these represent memories,” David explained. “Whenever she looks at them, she remembers what it was like when I was born and my father was still alive.” David leaned a little closer. “Sometimes I’ve seen her cry when she turns the pages.” David stopped what he was doing. “Do you want to do something else? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

When Benjamin shook his head, David turned the page. “This is my dad and me on vacation. I must have been four. I don’t remember it, but apparently Dad wanted to take me fishing.” David pointed to a picture of his smiling father holding David in his arms as he stepped into a boat. “Apparently I wasn’t as thrilled as he was. Mom said they untethered the boat from the dock and sped away to one of Dad’s fishing holes. I get seasick, and after about five minutes, I turned green and threw up all over him. Mom said it was the shortest fishing trip in history.” Benjamin chuckled at David’s story.

“It’s true,” David’s mother said from the doorway. “Marv was an avid fisherman and wanted David to learn, but that put an end to it. He tried a few times, but if David steps on a moving boat, he gets sick. We tried canoeing once, and that was okay, but most boats and David don’t mix.”

David turned to the next page. “That’s Dad on the last boat he had. He was happiest on the water. After he died, Mom sold it, along with most of his fishing stuff. She kept his best rod and reel for me, though.”

“But you can’t go on a boat,” Benjamin observed, studying the picture of David’s dad.

“She wanted me to have something special of Dad’s,” David explained. He turned the page again, and there was a picture of David with no front teeth, smiling at the camera, along with another picture of his dad.

“You look like him,” Benjamin said. “Do you miss him?”

David nodded. “Yes. He was my dad, the only one I’ll have. Mom’s great, but there are things that a guy needs his dad for, just like girls seem to need their mothers. My dad always listened, and at bedtime, he told me stories that he made up about all kinds of animals. He didn’t do that much anymore by the time he died, but when I was young, he did it all the time.” David didn’t think about his dad every day anymore. He still missed him, but the pain and loss had dulled. “It’s funny, but I miss him at the weirdest times. Like when I first started my job, I wished my dad could be there to see it, and I know when I graduate in the spring, I’ll wish he was there.” David continued turning the pages in the album. The pictures progressed, with both David and his dad getting older, and then David reached the back of the album and showed Benjamin the last picture his mother took of David and his dad together. His father was in his hospital bed, and David was lying next to him. “I remember this,” David said, a tightness in his throat. He didn’t try to say anything more. It was the last memory he had of his dad, and his mother had caught it on film. “My dad died that night, after I left.”