FH: Just Found Heaven Ch. 04: Ben

"You know what I mean Ben. We've been companions for ages but you don't love me the way I want you to love someone else after I'm gone. You have a heart that yearns for passion, and connection despite your avoidance of the topic. The size of your heart is built for a deeply connected romance. True, epic love."

"Charlie, I'm happy where I am. Some of us don't get forever after's."

Charlie snorted as he reached for the glass of water on his nightstand. I tried to ignore the way his wrist trembled from that minor weight.

"The Spanish soap operas you're obsessed with say otherwise. Overly dramatic rubbish," he said, his British heritage poking through even though his accent had faded after more than two decades in the US. "Pure trash, but true love always triumphs despite ridiculously written adversity."

My lips twitched but I lost my fight to maintain a straight face. "If watching trash TV was a road map to finding true love, the divorce rate would be much lower."

Charlie snorted again when I grinned without shame.

My enjoyment of telenovellas had started as a goof on my sisters in our early teen years, something to tease them about. But like most train wreck TV, the high drama in the over-the-top, formulaic storylines was addicting. They usually revolved around a poor girl who was actually the secret love child of a rich man and maid. A girl who almost always fell for a rich playboy, and had his baby in secret, only to find out he was already engaged or married to someone else. Her heart would always be broken, and she'd vow to get revenge by working her way up to his same high social-economic status by raising hell in ways that required much more than normal amounts of suspension of belief. The odds were always stacked against the couple but somehow love always won out. All the wicked were punished, and the storyline was resolved in a few months unlike the decades long American soap operas, so that another equally absurd show could begin.

They were completely ridiculous like Charlie thought, but they reminded me of my family, and the excitement of my sisters who'd loved to plan my happy ending and potential ever after's as often as they did their own. But those plans had always involved a future sister-in-law, and when I told them they would have to settle for a new brother-in-law instead, that world we'd built had exploded, and my belief in unconditional love had fallen apart with it.

"I don't like the idea of you giving up on your future, Ben. You're too young to be this cynical."

"I'm not cynical, I'm pragmatic. And I don't like you talking about dying so consider us even."

"Everything that lives eventually dies, Ben. That's why how you live your life matters."

"You sound like a fortune cookie."

"Cheeky. I prefer to think of myself much higher end then that, Benjamin. More like a Yogi tea bag."

My lips twitched both because he used my full name, and because Charlie had only every purchased that brand of tea for me because I liked it. He was a snob about commercial tea bags so I was surprised to hear that he'd noticed the uplifting mantras printed on the little slips of paper attached to the strings on the tea bags.

"Well on that note, I'm going to make us some tea. I bought a new lavender and chamomile blend last week that's supposed to help with sleep. You need to rest."

"I'll rest eternally when I'm dead. Sit."

I tensed even though I'd already stood up. "Charl--..."

"No," he said, cutting me off before I could finish. "I've reached my quota for the day of the number of excuses I'll accept from the most beautiful, and most stubborn man I've ever known. Sit."

"Charlie I don--"

"Oh hell's bloody bells, Ben! Enough with this rubbish. Sit before I try and get out of this bed."

I sighed when Charlie's British roots came out again to announce his level of aggravation. He'd always been passionate in bed when he'd been in good health, but his career as a museum historian had crafted Charlie's personality into a calm, level-headed one that was usually governed by intelligence, and rational thought. He'd rarely gotten angry in all the time I'd known him, not even when the doctors had told him that he was terminal. Charlie had accepted his fate with a grace I wasn't sure I'd be capable of if I'd been in the same position. His expression was void of that grace and calm now.

I sighed and sat down again because I knew it wasn't an idle threat, and I didn't want to be responsible for him getting up and possibly falling into a heap on the floor before I could launch from the location of the rocker and get to him.

Charlie relaxed visibly. "Thank you, Ben," he said, because he knew how much it cost me to swallow my pride.

I'd been on my own for years before meeting him, responsible for myself, and no one else. My family had abandoned me, and though Roman and I were close, I'd had no other ties to anyone else. I'd lived my life that way on purpose to avoid pain from rejection and loss. Being an escort had helped me maintain those boundaries because men paid for my body and passion, not my mind or heart. The few friends I allowed into my life except for Roman were casual. I hadn't even had pets or plants in my elegant Miami apartment before I'd moved in with Charlie. Nothing to hold me down or to feel my absence if I decided to detach.

Until now.

"You know I'm not one for melodrama but at this point I'm going to make an exception, and appeal to your sense of the dramatic, and make this a dying appeal you can't deny."

He eyed me hard and the protest on my lips turned into a sigh.

"Fine."

Charlie ignored my peevishness. "Please get me that book on the third shelf to the left of the blue leather volume of The Great Gatsby."

I could see the strain showing in Charlie's face so I went to the bookshelf without any more attitude. But I tensed when I located the "book," that he had asked me to get for him.

I was familiar with the bible. Most of my siblings were older so our family's Children's Bible had been well worn in by the time I came along. Our mother had read from it to us every night before she switched to a children's story like Peter Rabbit. We'd gone to church every Sunday, and attended every Catholic holiday including Easter Vigil which had felt excruciatingly long in my elementary age years. Sunday night dinners were an entire family affair even after my older siblings moved out. We'd been considered the epitome of the good Catholic family; loving, loyal and devout.

Until I'd come out.

I knew that the Catholic church condemned homosexuality. The bible was littered with verses against it, especially in the Old Testament where fire and brimstone rained down on the wicked for sexual perversions. But even in the New Testament where the entire theme had always been about God's great love shown in the ultimate sacrifice of his son to save all sinners, laying with men was condemned. I knew that. However, I'd been raised to believe that we'd all been created in God's image so I'd always struggled with trying to understand that if He was sovereign, and incapable of fallibility and mistakes, then how could I be gay if that was a hell ensuring sin? The contradictions had hurt my head for years before I'd convinced myself that I didn't care anymore. Looking at that bible though, warring with my emotions, I realized how deep in the sand I'd been hiding my head.

"Ben."

Charlie's gentle tone infiltrated my thoughts and I filled my lungs with a deep breath before I released it slowly.

"Charlie... this isn't fair."

"Maybe not, but love is about doing what's best for the object of your affections. And you my boy, are the only person whose ever captured my heart and held it so I'm willing to ignore niceties like fairness."

I exhaled hard again. With Charlie's days numbered by his doctors, I didn't want to cause him more strain just to avoid my own pain. He'd been good to me. He didn't deserve all the belligerence I'd built up against God.

Slowly my hand moved, and closed around the spine of the bible to remove it from the shelf before I took it over to Charlie, my feet feeling wooden, and yet not heavy enough to slow my steps long enough for my preference.

I sat down on the bed when Charlie patted a spot on the plush mattress that I'd special ordered a few months ago to ensure that he was as comfortable as possible after he'd been confined to his bed by his failing body. Charlie's expression softened when my eyes met his, and he patted my knee gently.

"If I could think of another way to get through to you I'd do it but I can't, so here we are. I want you to give yourself the chance to fall in love, and you'll only be able to do that when you're at peace with yourself."

"And you think that I'll find peace with myself in religion?"

He nodded, ignoring the curt note in my tone. "I think it will be a start, because it's given me peace, and I always considered myself agnostic. But, after I was diagnosed, I was so angry at the universe. Not having someone to blame or to ask, why me, made me feel more lost than I've ever felt in my life."

That confession surprised me because he'd never let me see any of that anguish before.

"So... we're having this conversation because you want me to believe in God just so that I can blame him?"

"Don't be cheeky. I'm not asking you to believe in "religion," because that's a term people sometimes use to justify their personal opinions. I just want you to believe in a power greater than any of us. You were raised catholic so I though this might be most familiar and comforting to you, but you could become a happy Buddhist for all I care, so long as you believe in something that promises serenity through surrender. A surrender that will allow you to fall in love completely, maybe at first sight because you'll be open to the idea that there are so many things outside of our control, orchestrated by a higher power for our benefit. And what is more to our benefit than true love?"

"God doesn't condone being gay," I said ignoring the part about love since religion was easier to argue against.

Charlie snorted, the sound turning into a hard cough that tightened my heart and made his eyes close for a moment as he leaned back into the pillows to catch his breath. When they opened again, there was a hint of the passionate flare for life in them that used to encompass his entire being.

"The Catholic church doesn't approve of homosexuality, but considering their stance on so many other things that I personally don't approve of, I don't put much stock in their opinions. God was willing to send his only son to this earth of sinners to save our souls. Do you really think He cares who you love physically so long as your spiritual love is for Him? Keep in mind that the bible, while INSPIRED by God, was WRITTEN by men. And even men under the inspiration of the highest being possible are fallible. Not to mention that as many times as the bible's been translated from the original Hebrew into other languages and versions, some things are bound to be interpreted differently, so is it really still God's exact word?"

Charlie must have seen the hesitation in my eyes at his rationale because he tightened his hold on my hand for a squeeze that was gently firm despite the fragile feeling of every bone beneath my hand.

"How about this; I drop the subject for right now, and you promise to speak to Father O'Brian when he gets here later today."

Charlie cut me off with a soft tsk before I could protest. "He's not a Catholic priest. He's Episcopal, and doesn't care that either of us is gay. Their doctrine is similar to Catholicism, but less rigid on the judgement and wrathful hellfire. Catholic light, as he calls it."

Charlie's lips curved into a smile that though tight with pain, was also relaxed. "He can help put things better in perspective than I can. He has a way with words that goes past theology."

His smile deepened till there was a hint of his old, confident, take the world by storm self in it. "In another lifetime I might've researched what the rules of engagement are to seduce a priest."

I snorted, but I was fighting hard to hold back my own smile. Before he'd gotten sick, Charlie had had the looks, brains, charm and money to make men take a number as they fell at his feet like willing dominoes. Seducing a priest wasn't something I'd consider an impossible feat for him.

"That's a sure road to hell."

"Oh, pish posh my boy. I raced down that road more than once, and it was always a lesson learned no matter what the outcome was. I don't regret any of those choices because I learned something from each of them. Besides, Episcopal priests can be in relationships with men or women. It doesn't matter because their first love is always God."

Charlie grinned again, and I knew what he was going to say before the words even left his mouth.

"He's single."

"Stop it, Charlie."

"Why? He's young, handsome gay, and very Irish, although blonde, not a redhead. But he does have eyes as green as the Irish isles, and that brogue of his would probably vibrate through your entire body to your soul when he whispers his Gaelic love language in your ear."

I snorted because I'd been with so many men between the years I'd hooked, and the ones before that when I'd sleep with anyone with a pulse just to prove to the world that I embraced being gay, that I'd lost count of names. But more than a few of those men had had accents, including Charlie with his crisp English lilt, and none had ever "vibrated their words" into my soul. Sex was cardio, and occasionally detached affection. At least that was what I'd been telling myself for years. It was the safest mantra for both my head and my heart to live by.

"Your pain meds must be kicking in. The love affair with historical romance novels that you don't think I know you hide behind your scholarly journals, is peeking through. Go to sleep and get some rest."

It was Charlie's time to snort with surprisingly derisive oomph. "Says the man who watches archived episodes of The Bachelor on Netflix."

My ears colored like a naughty child's because I'd been caught. I didn't believe in true love eternal anymore but the part of me that had always enjoyed watching telenovelas with my sisters still enjoyed dramatic romance. At least on TV where it was safe and detached.

"I consider them cautionary tales. What not to do if you want to live a peaceful life."

"Oh, come on now, Ben. Considering your past life, a life which I thoroughly enjoyed being part of I might add, don't you want to explore a gender-bending happy ending to your version of Pretty Woman?"

I snorted. "Didn't you know that they co-starred in another movie together where she put on her running shoes as soon as she could?"

"All romance has a bit of the comedic in it, and the chase is part of the fun."

"Unless you don't want to be caught."

"Pft, being afraid of being caught isn't the same as not wanting to be chased, and cornered until you submit."

"Talking dirty to me isn't going to help your case."

Charlie grinned. "When you find someone whom you can love and also be absolutely filthy with, then I'll rest my case."

I eyed him in silence for a moment but his expression was as composed, and slightly amused around the edges as the infamous Mona Lisa. He didn't bother waiting me out.

"You say you want serenity. Well, serenity is found in connections, Ben. It's built on experiences, including a determined kind of passion, affection loyalty and hope. Those are also all things that relationships are built on, whether they're romantic or not. Look at the two of us. You could've left long ago because we both know you have the means, but you've stayed even as I've wasted away a little bit more every day. I barely recognize myself, but you still look at me with that same exasperated affection that you've felt for a majority of our relationship.

My hands curled around the edge of the Bible, and lightly opened and closed the cover. Not because I had any intentions of opening it to read it but because it gave me something to fidget with. I normally didn't show physical signs of restlessness even when I found myself in uncomfortable situations. My former madam had made sure to teach me about always presenting with composure no matter what was going on in my head, but I wasn't prepared to have this conversation right now.

"I'd considered killing myself you know."

My head snapped up immediately at that confession, and my hands tightened until the corners of the bible cut into my palms painfully. "What?"

Charlie nodded. His tone was mild to combat the ice in mine with that one word. "I did. I even made some calls about it."

"Euthanasia isn't legal in Florida."

"No, it isn't, but having a living will that directs medical professionals to withhold or withdraw life-prolonging procedures in the event that a person has a terminal illness or end-stage condition, or is in a persistent vegetative state, is allowed."

"You're seriously quoting legal semantics at me right now?"

"Yes, I am because I'm trying to prove a point. I made that living will, and I was very clear in my desire to just be let go if was my time. I'd given up on myself."

"And on me apparently."

Because he'd never mentioned any of this before. I didn't realize that I was literally shaking from anger that I refused to allow to register as the helpless sense of grief it was derived from until Charlie's hand curled around my wrist like he realized that clutching my fingers wouldn't be enough.

My jaw tightened, threatening years of good dental hygiene.

"Yes," he said. His tone was gentle, but his grip was tight as he could manage. "You'd have been taken car--"

"For fuck's sake Charlie, you know that I don't want your damn money!" I said, angrily cutting him off.

Charlie ignored the vehement emotion that exploded out of me like an enraged genie. "I know, but you're still going to get it all whether you like it or not because I can't take it with me when I leave this world, and I know that you'll be able to figure out something truly wonderful to do with it that I'll consider a worthwhile legacy," he said. "But you're missing the point because you keep interrupting me. That's rude," he chided but there was a gentle affection in the tone to soften the sting of his words.

"Go to hell."

"I'm hoping that isn't where I'm headed but that's what this entire conversation is about isn't it? The inevitable truth that made me void that clause in my will two weeks ago; None of us can truly know what our final destination will be when we die, but we can take comfort in knowing that God does. That He, in his infinite wisdom and grace, will take us where He knows we need to be."

"You sound like a fortune cookie again."

"I sound like Father O'Brien, which is why you're going to speak to him. You need this. and so does my peace of mind."

Charlie shook my arm a little but I felt his strength fading, and I looked up at the ceiling because I didn't like the sudden heat welling up behind my eyelids when I closed them so he didn't see me fighting tears. Neither of us were the crying type. Or so we said. When I glanced back down and opened my eyes to meet Charlie's, his were calm though suspiciously glassy.

"He's coming over this afternoon to look in on me. You could talk to him today on your own terms and "turf," so to speak, rather than going to see him at the church."

I wanted to protest but Charlie had pleaded his case with so much conviction that he'd worn down my stubborn resolution. He'd never before asked me for anything that I wasn't willing to give freely. Denying him now would vault past rude, and be a betrayal of the friendship that we'd cultivated after so much time spent together.