Authors: J.P. Barnaby
Aaron (39 page)
“My brothers are playing a game in the family room, or we could stay in the living room until dinner is ready,” Aaron told Dr. Thomas, who looked at his son and shrugged. Glancing around the room, taking in the details, they looked uncomfortable, like plus ones at a wedding, asked to come but not exactly invited.
“Would you like something to drink?” Aaron asked, and noticed the strained smile on Dr. Thomas’s face falter. So, quickly, he added “I think we have soda, juice, and water. Or, surprisingly, I can make coffee. I think we might have some tea….” Aaron counted off on his fingers as he rambled. Spencer grinned, and finally Dr. Thomas smiled again and asked for water while Spencer requested a soda. He left them on their own to retrieve their drinks.
“Yes, Spencer and his father are here.” Filling the glasses with ice, he got water from the tap for Dr. Thomas and grabbed a Coke and a Sprite from near the back door. He’d learned a few weeks ago that Spencer wasn’t a fan of diet or lemon lime. It surprised Aaron just how much he knew about Spencer. He felt like a part of Spencer’s life, and not just because he knew what kind of soda Spencer liked without asking, but because of all the other little things he knew—like how Spencer put ketchup on one side of a hotdog and mustard on the other. He didn’t know anyone else who put ketchup on a hotdog, not in Chicago.
“Sure, Mom,” he said, making an effort to show that he appreciated her inviting Dr. Thomas to dinner, even if she had no intention of listening to him. Together, he, Spencer, and Spencer’s father would find a way to get through to her. They had to.
He dropped the basket of garlic bread onto the table and took the drinks into the living room. It irked him a little that neither of his parents came in to greet their guests. If it had been friends of theirs, all three boys would have to line up and make an impromptu receiving line. Ice clinked against the side of the glass as he handed it to Spencer, and he realized his hands were shaking.
“My mom is just finishing up,” Aaron told Dr. Thomas by way of an explanation for their rude behavior. Just as he said it, however, his father came in from the kitchen.
“Dr. Thomas, this is my father, John Downing,” he said, and let out a breath.
Finally
. His father didn’t hesitate to shake Dr. Thomas’s hand and
then said hello to Spencer. The temperature in the room came down marginally, and it was easier for Aaron to breathe.
“Well, why don’t we sit in here and chat while we wait for Michelle to finish up. She said it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes or so,” his father said and waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the living room furniture. Surprise showed on John Downing’s face as Aaron took a seat on the couch between Dr. Thomas and Spencer rather than taking the other vacant armchair near his own. No one seemed to want to open up the conversation. The only sounds in the room came from outside it: video game bleeps from the family room, clangs and bangs from the kitchen, and even shrieks of joy from the neighbor kids playing out front. But the four men sitting in the living room looked around the room at everything but each other.
“We should probably just open the door and let the elephant in the room amble out,” Dr. Thomas said as he set his glass of water on one of the coasters strewn about the coffee table. “I’m not angry about your injunction. I understand that you are trying to protect your son. As a father, I can appreciate that. However, as a therapist, I have to tell you that you aren’t helping him. Just as you and your wife have been doing for the past two years, you are enabling him, and that’s not what he needs.”
Arguing with a lawyer wasn’t really a pleasant thing, but Spencer’s father didn’t back down. “No, Mr. Downing, it’s up to Aaron to decide what he needs. He’s the only person who knows exactly what’s going on inside his head. I’ve consulted with my attorney, and in order for your injunction to succeed, you’re going to have to have a judge declare him legally incompetent to make decisions in his medical care.”
Aaron’s face heated, and his hands clenched at his sides. They were going to go to court and have a judge tell them he was incompetent, all because he’d picked a therapist. Didn’t that show he was capable of making decisions about his care? Damn it, Dr. Thomas was one of the best trauma specialists in the country. Aaron had made the right decision. He was sure of it.
“You would do that?” Aaron asked his father and faked a calm he didn’t feel. They didn’t need the conversation to descend into something angry, at least not yet.
“Aaron, it’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything.” His father’s face was an open book, showing every emotion he felt. Right then, it showed Aaron that his father was placating him and that he didn’t mean a word of what he said.
“Really? It just strips away my rights as a human being and puts me firmly under your control. Am I wrong?” Aaron felt Spencer nudge his leg and felt better. He wanted to reach over and hold Spencer’s hand, but he didn’t know if his mother had told his father he was gay. He didn’t want to test the idea right then.
“Because you think I can’t take care of myself? Do you think the attack was my fault too?” Aaron asked and watched the blood drain from his father’s face.
“Of course not, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the situation at hand,” John said, but was quickly interrupted by his wife standing at the doorway to the kitchen. She didn’t greet Dr. Thomas or Spencer; she simply announced dinner was ready and asked that they move into the dining room.
“Yes, but what will they do if they lose?” Aaron asked. He could just see his parents packing up and moving to New York or San Francisco just to get him away from Dr. Thomas. Then, not only would he lose his therapist, he’d lose his best friend and his boyfriend. He couldn’t think about that happening, not when he’d finally found even a little bit of happiness.
Allen and Anthony were allowed the rare privilege of eating in their rooms, after leaving Aaron with matching supportive looks. Aaron sat with Spencer on one side of the table and Dr. Thomas sat alone on the
other with Aaron’s parents at each end. Plates were served, drinks were poured, and salad dished out by the time the conversation turned back to the subject of Aaron’s therapy.
“I don’t want to cause a rift between you and Aaron. That was never my intention. We talked about sharing his therapy with you, and I thought in time, he would. You asked me what I would get out of treating Aaron for free, and as I explained to him, I would use our findings to publish papers and help other therapists treat patients with similar indicators. The fact that he had not found a therapist to that point who could do anything more than medicate him and mask his symptoms tells me the information is sorely needed.” Dr. Thomas took a long drink of water while he waited for a response.
Michelle looked at John and then at Aaron. “Dr. Thomas, while I appreciate what you’re saying, it’s not your intentions we’re concerned about so much as your ethics. We found through careful research that you were a top-notch trauma therapist. At the time, we thought you might be the answer to all of our prayers. But then, we talked to Nancy Burgoff. Do you remember her, Doctor?” Michelle asked, her voice almost malicious with quiet triumph. Dr. Thomas’s expression did not change.
“She told us that your partner, Dr. Huehn, had an affair with a sixteen-year-old female patient. He is currently serving time for that indiscretion, is he not?”
“Your practice closed soon after his arrest. She also told us you showed up to an APA function so intoxicated you could barely stand. Rumors started throughout the psychiatric community in Chicago that you’d become an alcoholic. Do you deny the rumors?” she asked point blank as she stared him down from across the table. The meal was forgotten in the showdown, and Aaron could do nothing but watch with a sick feeling in his stomach.
“I do not deny that I drink; however, I have never done so before a session or even when Aaron is in the house. What I do in my personal time is really none of your concern, and for the record, I haven’t talked to
