For Mac (7 page)

It seemed like Branson wanted to talk to him, after all. “Oh, Andy told you about that, huh?” When Bran nodded, Liam chuckled, then proceeded to tell him all about the rambunctious preschoolers. “And then the most amazing thing happened,” Liam continued. “The words ‘you were right, Liam’ came out of me big sister’s mouth. I never thought to be hearing such a thing, so I didn’t.”

Branson laughed. “Yeah, I can’t imagine Mac ever saying that.” Then like someone had thrown a switch, all the good humor left him, and he slumped against the back of his chair. “Guess he’ll never get the chance now.”

Liam reached out to grip Branson’s shoulder but dropped his hand before it could make contact. “Don’t write him off yet. From some of the stories I’ve heard you all tell about Mac, if anyone could come back from this, it would be him.”

Branson sat forward and took his brother’s hand. “I hope you’re right.” But staring into Mac’s unfocused eyes didn’t seem to do much for his morale.

Liam tended to Mac and talked to Branson about this and that, but Bran didn’t seem to want to talk anymore. Liam was getting worried about the younger brother. He seemed to be going downhill faster than the older one, at least emotionally. He didn’t know what he could do about it, and he knew Andy had seen the same thing and was trying to fix the situation, but it didn’t seem like it was working yet.

O
NE
W
EDNESDAY
morning when Liam came in to check on Mac, Branson was reading to his brother. Liam recognized some of the subject matter.

“The Foundation Trilogy?”

Branson looked up, shocked. “You recognize Asimov from hearing a small passage?”

“Me preferred science fiction writer, lad. Foundation is an old favorite, so it is.” Liam fondly remembered warm Saturdays lying under the tree in his backyard reading
I, Robot
, and cold winter evenings snuggled under a mound of covers riveted to
The
Bicentennial Man
.

The younger man smiled. “Yeah, same here. I’m more of a science fiction buff than Mac is, but I couldn’t stomach reading any more of the westerns I know he’d prefer, so I started reading things I liked.” Branson turned toward Mac and continued. “If he doesn’t like it, he can wake the hell up and call me on it.” Talking to his brother as though he could hear him and as though he had a choice about waking up seemed to help, Liam noticed, so Branson did it quite often, trying to include Mac in his conversations, but now he turned back to Liam. “Already finished
I,
Robot
and
The Bicentennial Man
.”

“Ah.” Liam chortled. What were the chances of Branson naming the exact books he had been thinking of? “An Asimov fest.”

“I grabbed the books in order off my shelf at home. Asimov came first. Asprin, Bradbury, and Clarke are coming up soon.”

“Oh no!” Liam put his hand on his heart. “You’re one of those!”

Branson seemed confused by the joke. “What? They’re some of the best sci-fi writers.”

“You’re one of those who alphabetizes his book collection!” Liam was quick to clarify. They had seemed to be having a friendly moment there, and he didn’t want to ruin it with his quirky sense of humor.

Bran huffed out a laugh. “Guilty as charged. But doesn’t everyone?”

Chuckling again, Liam responded, “Not so much, not really, no.”

They continued talking about their favorite authors and branched off into movies.

“Sci-fi movie buff too?” Liam asked.

“For the most part,” Branson answered. “I like action films too and some drama… even a few movies that Mac used to call ‘chick flicks.’ I tried to keep those to myself.”

“From what I hear, Mac doesn’t seem like one who would like chick flicks.”

“Understatement,” Branson admitted. “Mac saw it as a sign of weakness that I liked those kinds of movies, so I usually didn’t admit that I did. There were a lot of things I didn’t admit to because Mac wouldn’t like it.”

Liam didn’t know what to make of that. He was pretty sure they were now talking about topics a good bit more serious than movies. So he tried to lighten things back up. “You pretended to like cowboy movies?”

Branson chuckled. “Among other things. Come to think of it, though… he knew I didn’t like them. But I watched them because he wanted to.”

Liam reached toward Branson again but pulled it back at the last moment. He had never realized how many times he tended to touch people until he was consciously trying to avoid it. “It sounds like you are very close.”

“We were—are.” Branson shook his head and tried to get past the slip as quickly as possible. Liam was sure Branson didn’t want to think about Mac in the past tense, so he wasn’t surprised when Branson changed the subject slightly. “He didn’t always return the favor, though. I tried to get him to watch
Star Trek
with me a couple of times. He’d sit through
Voyager
long enough to drool over Seven, but he thought the original series was boring. I tried to get him to watch one of my favorite episodes, and he got about fifteen minutes into it before he decided that doing laundry would be more exciting.”

“He dissed the original series, lad?” Liam played along and took Mac’s hand. “Mac, that’s unforgivable. That’s a classic, bud!”

Branson chuckled. “You’re a trekker?”

“Second generation! Ma would swear us to silence when
Voyager
was on. Most of the other kids found something else to do and didn’t bother her for an hour. I watched. Fell in love with Tom Paris and Chakotay. Then Ma got me hooked on the original series and
Next Generation
.” Liam leaned in to whisper behind his hand, conspiratorially. “I’ve even been to a science fiction convention.”

Branson laughed. “I haven’t… not yet. Mac would have skinned me alive for spending my money on something like that. I’d like to, though.”

“Oh, you gotta go, lad.” Liam reached out again but slapped the back of Branson’s chair instead of touching him. “I loved it, so I did. Met George Takei. Really nice man, so he is. Wouldn’t mind going again someday.”

Liam finally had to shake himself out of the conversation and get back to his duties, but they promised they’d talk more about this later.

T
HE
NEXT
afternoon Liam came into Mac’s room with a shopping bag in hand. Branson looked up from his work.

“What do you have there?”

“Got you something.” Liam set the bag down and reached inside. “But despite the fact that it arrives in a shopping bag, I didn’t buy it.” He set down the DVD player and started hooking it up to the TV. “Me ma got me sister, Lizzie, a new one, and she gave me this one. But I already have one… a better one, actually. So I set out to find this one a good home, and I thought who better to give a stripped-down model of a DVD player to than a fellow trekker and his brother?”

Branson chuckled. “You’re trying to downplay this, but I’m really touched that you’d think enough of us to bring this. I have one at home, but I never thought to bring it.”

“Well, this one is for here. Give you and Mac something to do all day.” Liam finished setting up the DVD player and reached back into the bag. “And, to start you off”—he pulled out one DVD at a time—“
Wrath of Kahn
,
Search for Spock
,
Voyage Home
, and, skipping the Next Gen movies for now”—he produced the last DVD with a flourish—“the newest
Star Trek
movie. Lots of action, lots of Star Trek, and lots of Chris Pine. What better way to spend the afternoon?”

“Mac would
hate
that.” Branson grinned and patted Mac’s arm.

“You’re the younger brother.” Liam smiled. “You’re supposed to do stuff that drives your older brother nuts. Me two sisters and I used to vex Patrick to no end.”

Branson started to say something, then stopped as if he was trying to decide whether or not he truly wanted to say it. Liam waited him out, and Branson finally said, “Star Trek is best watched with other trekkers.” He paused and then went on. “You wanna join me?”

Liam smiled. This was the first time Branson had ever asked him to spend time with him. He’d been much friendlier lately and seemed to have loosened up, but… well, Liam was thrilled by the invitation. “I’m on duty for another hour.” When he saw Branson’s face fall, he hurried to continue. “But if you’ll wait ’til I get off, I’d love to come watch some of ’em with you. I’ll even bring popcorn.”

Liam noticed that Branson seemed genuinely happy at that. “Sounds like a plan,” Branson said as he patted Mac’s arm. “What do you think, bro? You up for a Star Trek marathon?”

Liam got off at three o’clock, and by ten after, he waltzed into Mac’s room with a bag of microwaved popcorn, and pulled up a chair a decent distance away from Branson’s. He didn’t want to take any chance of scaring him off. Liam was so thrilled to be spending some free time with him. He didn’t want to take the chance that Branson would react badly to an accidental touch. They decided to skip the older movies for the moment and go right to the one with Chris Pine.

They had a great time, making comments clear through the movie and even screaming at the TV at times. They paused it often and debated this or that change in the timeline from the original
Trek
, or commented on a line they especially liked or facial expressions of the actors. Even so, they finished the movie before eight o’clock, and Liam knew there was no way Branson would leave before visiting hours were over. Liam hated to leave him there alone but couldn’t think of a reason to stay since Branson said he was saving the other movies for another time. So he reluctantly left but vowed to invite himself to watch as many of those other movies as Branson would allow.

The “movie nights” became a semiregular occurrence. Once they watched the three Liam had already brought, they worked their way through his collection of the original series of
Star Trek
, and the two men ran lines with it. They interspersed other movies as well, sometimes Liam bringing his favorites and sometimes Branson providing the fare. Liam thoroughly enjoyed Branson’s company, and Bran seemed to enjoy his, but Liam made sure to stay far away from Branson and tried not to reach over with friendly pats on the arms and such. He valued their new camaraderie too much to lose it because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Branson

O
VER
THE
last couple of weeks, Branson had forced himself to loosen up around Liam but once he did, he found it wasn’t difficult at all to be himself with Liam. He loved his company, and Liam seemed to enjoy his.
He must
, Branson thought.
He stays here way past quitting time to watch movies with us.

But Branson had noticed that Liam wasn’t quite himself around him. Once Andy had mentioned it, Bran could tell that Liam was, indeed, treating him with kid gloves. He caught Liam about to touch him several times. He sat farther away than necessary and gave Branson a wide berth when he passed him. He hated that he had given this wonderful man the idea that he had done something wrong. Branson wasn’t sure how he could change that, but he did want to make sure he no longer gave him that impression in the future.

A
LL
THIS
time Mac had alternated progress with setbacks. He had started opening his eyes more often but still didn’t seem to see anything. He didn’t lock eyes, didn’t follow movement, and still wouldn’t open them on command. But he had a growing number of petit mal seizures each day and even another supremely frightening grand mal. He was having an increasing number of complications with his breathing, needing to be suctioned often to keep from choking but still managing to choke way too often for Bran’s liking, and he finally stopped breathing altogether. He had done that a couple of times before, and they always got him to start breathing on his own again, but that last time, they couldn’t. So they had to intubate him. Branson was afraid they’d lose him a couple of different times, but each time Liam was there to talk Branson through what was happening. He had made a point to be there each time the doctor talked to Branson about Mac’s condition, especially if Andy or Amy couldn’t be.

Branson was becoming increasingly emotionally dependent on Liam, and he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about that. He tried to tell himself it was because he needed a friend, and it happened to be Liam because he was Mac’s CNA. He didn’t really believe that, though, and wasn’t sure he wanted to examine the matter too closely.

Branson tried to keep himself busy either with work or talking or reading to Mac, and also with visiting Mr. J. Bran found he really enjoyed the older man’s company, and the reverse seemed to be true as well. The old man’s speech seemed to be getting better by the week, and the on-staff speech therapist said that Branson was the best therapy she could have asked for. Mr. J. seemed so intrigued with someone who would actually listen to and enjoy his tales of “the old days” that he got plenty of speech practice.

“So my brother and I wrote each other’s notes to get us out of school, and we went to tackle that hill. Wasn’t no hunk of rock gonna get the better of us.” The stories of Mr. J.’s youth were the most frequent ones told, but Branson loved hearing them, so the old man continued to a willing audience. “We packed up lunches and plenty of water and set out climbing that thing, even though it was the one place Pa had told us never to go near. Probably
because
it was the one place he had told us not to go.” Mr. J. smiled. “Looking back it was a wonder we didn’t fall to our deaths, trying to free-climb that thing, with little to no experience in climbing anything. I guess God truly looks out for fools and little children… though at nine and ten respectively, Bert and I would have beat you up as to look at you if you had called us little children.”