The Apple Blossom Tree

“You're early, Mr. Fredrekson.”
“Early is on time,” Ben retorted with a smile.
His boss, Mr. Yoller, smiled back, checking his list. “I guess you can do the normal rounds then. All your people are still here and have had no visitors today. Make sure you cheer them up, yeah?”
Ben nodded solemnly, not bothering to pick up his list. He knew his people by heart. Taking a basket of the equipment he needed, he went through the first half of the patients within the his first hour of being at the clinic. Every person submitted into the clinic had Alzheimer's disease and while sometimes they could be frustrating to most people, Ben found them fascinating. He was sad for them, of course, as any human with a heart would, but the part about their brain and the nerves intrigued him.
He was on his last patient two hours before his shift ended, but he didn't mind. He saved his favorite for last. Heading down the main hall and out into the gardens that were sprinkled with apple blossoms, Ben spotted Ms. Moreau, an old, graying French woman, sitting in a rocking chair by the biggest Apple Blossom Tree in the gardens. It's branches hung low to the ground, the pink flowers cluttered in the leaves and on the grass. Ms. Moreau sketched in her sketchbook, the one Ben had given her a few months after he started volunteering here. He noticed, however, that she had a visitor. He checked his watch, noticing visiting hours ended five minutes ago.
Brows furrowed, Ben marched over to them. He tapped the man on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” he said with an edge. “Visiting hours are over.” Ms. Moreau looked at him with her big, sad blue eyes. He hated that he was taking away her only visitor. He was surprised there was one in the first place. Of the two years he's been here, he's never seen anyone visit Ms. Moreau.
The man turned and Ben sucked in a sharp breath. The man's brows shot up into his hairline.
“Fancy seeing you here, Benjamin,” Adam declared with surprise.
The use of his full name not only caught Ben off guard, but softened his heart a little too.
“I can say the same, Adam.”
“Adam?” Ms. Moreau's voice was softer than usual and that was saying something. “Ah, I knew I should have recognized your face.” Adam turned away from Ben and held Ms. Moreau's hand. The look on Adam's face was indescribable.
“How do you know Ms. Moreau?” Ben blurted out.
“She's my aunt,” Adam explained, taking a seat next to Ms. Moreau. “She raised me.”
Ben stopped in the middle of writing his feedback on his clipboard. He never would have made the connection. They didn't look a like at all. But considering the last name difference, it could be relation by marriage and Adam took a lot of his physical traits from his father's side. Nevertheless, Ben was quite shocked.
“I've never seen you here before,” Ben mused, the question hopefully implied by his tone. He finished his check up on Ms. Moreau, placing his supplies back in his basket.
Adam sighed, not taking his eyes off of his aunt. “I was away for two years, taking care of my reappeared father who had fallen sick.”
Ben's eyes lowered as he realized he had no right to interrogate Adam. At first, he had been upset for Ms. Moreau, but it wasn't his place to be. He was only here to do his job. He felt like a shithead for what he had to do next.
“I'm sorry, Adam, but visiting hours are over. I need to take Ms. Moreau back to her room.” Ben bent down to help Ms. Moreau up, but Adam had beaten him to it. He watched as Adam led his aunt into the building, following closely behind. Once they were in the lobby, Ben took Ms. Moreau's hand, giving Adam a look that said “I'd given you enough slack.” Adam nodded and left.
After getting Ms. Moreau comfortable in her room, Ben wished her a goodnight, signed out of work, and left the building. He was more than surprised to see Adam there, waiting for him. Ben slung his bag over his shoulder, pulling out his ukulele from the strap on his back.
Adam eyed it, but decided to ignore it.
“Were you waiting for me?” Ben asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Adam blushed, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe.” They walked along the sidewalk together, Ben fiddling with his ukulele nervously. Rationally, they shouldn't be doing this. They could be seen. Someone could assume something, the wrong something.
They walked for a long time, cutting through the town park. The grass was emerald green, the trees nothing, but Apple Blossoms, their flowers everywhere. Adam plucked one from the air as it floated in the wind. He spun it around in his fingers, looking up at Ben. He stopped suddenly, staring at the flower. Ben slowed, glancing back at him.
“What is it?” Ben asked, worried something was incredibly wrong.
“Ben, I...,” Adam let out a breath. “I can't pretend anymore. I need to tell you how I feel.”
Ben's heart thumped in his chest.
“The day after... what happened, I waited, sitting on my couch and staring at my phone, all day for you to call me. I waited the next day and the next. That night wasn't just me seducing you. I really, really liked you, Ben. But after two weeks, I realized, you didn't feel that way.” He sighed, finally looking Ben in the eyes. “And then there you were, in my classroom. At first, I was angry. I was so mad at you, at myself, at the world. I wanted you, but you were just out of my reach.”
Ben's lips parted, his blood raced. He felt guilt, surprise, adrenaline, a surge of hope. He didn't know how to respond to what Adam was telling him. Adam's hand slipped into his.
“I've been thinking a lot the past few days after talking to you in my classroom and after seeing you today, at the clinic with my Aunt Moreau. The chances of you... I'm willing to take the risk. I want to be with you, Benjamin Fredrekson and I don't care what it takes to make it happen.”
Silence.
Ben's thoughts raced faster than they ever had before. He searched Adam's face, much like Adam had done to him not too long ago. He smiled. A big, dumb grin breaking his face in half. Adam oofed when Ben leaped into his arms, crashing their lips together. The pink petals of Apple Blossoms swirling around them.