For Mac (9 page)

Liam walked toward the DVD player that had magically appeared. He all but knew it had to have been Branson that brought it in. Whether it was one of the ones he had had at home or he’d bought a cheap model, Liam didn’t know. What he did know was that he had never heard Mr. J. laugh before.

He picked up the cases lying beside the DVD player.

“
All the President’s Men
,
The Sting
,
Out of Africa
,” Liam read the titles, “and that’s
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
.” Liam gestured toward the movie on the screen. “Who’s the Robert Redford fan?” he asked, though he knew it had to be Mr. J.

“Me,” Mr. J. slurred and gestured toward himself. “Bran is being kind enough to watch old movies with an old man.”

Liam was starting to understand Mr. J. fairly well. He still maintained that Branson understood him better, though.

Mr. J. went on. “It’s a shame we can’t get Bran’s brother over here. I hate to take him away from Mac just to spend time with me.”

Liam smiled. “Well, Mr. J., we’ve been trying to get you out of bed more often anyway. How about I see if we can set up a recliner in Mac’s room—I don’t know why I haven’t thought of it before, with as much time as Branson spends in there—and we can get you over to there, since we can’t get Mac here.”

Both men smiled at that.

“That’s a great idea, Liam.” Branson chuckled. “And then I can be more comfortable when Mr. J. isn’t there.”

Mr. J. smiled at Branson conspiratorially as if getting the recliner for him was what Mr. J. had wanted all along. “You’re welcome.”

Branson laughed and said, “Thank you… both.” And he flashed a smile at Liam that threatened to stop Liam’s heart.
Damn
, he thought,
why can’t this boy be gay
?

Branson

B
RAN
FOUND
that he was really okay with Liam touching him. Not only did he allow more and more friendly touches, he actually initiated some. A hand on Liam’s shoulder as he passed by, a quick squeeze on the arm to emphasize a point. Even good-bye hugs from time to time. He was starting to think that maybe he could have a close friendship with this man, one that included some benign touches. He refused to examine why that made him so happy.

Other than that, life went on as normal. The following week Branson was reading to Mac again when he noticed his brother’s hand twitching. Even after all this time, he kept hoping that every twitch meant Mac was coming back to him. But the twitching got worse and worse until his entire body was convulsing. The nurses and orderlies rushed into the room without Branson touching the call button.

Bran knew he was in the way and stood up to leave, but he couldn’t. He was frozen to the spot.
This can’t be happening again so soon
, he thought. Several of the staff members told him to get out and pushed around him. One of the orderlies shoved him a little. But he still couldn’t move.

He was vaguely aware that another person had come into the room and was now right in front of him, but his eyes were locked onto his brother’s writhing body.

“Come on, man,” a voice with an Irish accent said quietly. “Let’s step out a minute and give them room to work.”

When Branson still didn’t move, Liam gently took hold of his biceps and pushed him backward. Bran found that he was actually moving toward the hallway. He could hear the Irish voice talking gently, but he wasn’t paying attention to what it said.

Suddenly the activity in the room became more frantic as a high-pitched drone sounded loud in Branson’s ears.

“No!” He instantly knew what that sound meant, and he tried to get back into the room. He lunged against Liam, attempting to get past him—through him, if necessary—to get to his brother.

Liam tightened his grip, and when that didn’t help, he slung his arms around Branson and held on tightly. “Calm down, Branny.” As Branson’s struggles became less intense, Liam started to rub his back. “They’re good at their job. They’re trying their best. You’d just be in the way, lad.”

Finally the high-pitched noise segued back into a steady rhythm. Branson was so relieved that he collapsed against Liam and cried.

A
FTER
THAT
,
Branson watched as Mac seemed to go downhill daily. The bedsores they had been fighting all this time finally got ahead of them and were getting infected. They had him on antibiotics, but it still wasn’t good. Branson noticed that Liam came in more often than strictly necessary to change the dressings and rearrange Mac so that he wasn’t applying more pressure to the affected areas.

Andy, Amy, and Branson all did range of motion exercises with Mac whenever they could, as well as Liam, of course. Liam was in charge of feeding Mac through the G-tube in his stomach, but Branson knew how and often helped out, opening the cans of Ensure and pouring them into the bag while Liam held it open. Liam would hang the bag and start the pump, but Branson or Amy or Andy would watch it the whole time and let Liam or another staff member know if the pump had problems, as it sometimes did.

During one of the now much more frequent grand mal seizures, Mac dislodged the balloon that kept the tube fastened to his abdomen, and they had to rush him back to the hospital to operate. They also had to replace the vent tubing once. Each time they were back in the hospital, Branson felt like they were taking a giant step backward.

The grand mal seizures were, themselves, causing more trouble. Each severe one seemed to cause more brain damage. In normal cases of epilepsy, it was unusual for a seizure to stop the patient’s heart, but since Mac’s brain capacity was much lower than normal now, the electrical discharge during a seizure did awful things to his brain’s ability to control autonomic functions. The doctor had explained it to Bran, and he understood it intellectually, but only barely, and wouldn’t have been able to explain it to anyone. The only thing he knew for sure was that he hated those damned seizures.

A bright spot when Mac was in the hospital—if it could be seen as such—was that Liam came there to visit Mac, and consequently Branson, even though Mac was only away from Silver Linings for a couple of days each time he was rushed to the hospital. The fact that Liam would go out of his way to show his support meant more to Branson than he was willing to admit.

Despite Liam’s encouragement, though, Branson was holding out less and less hope that his brother would ever come back to him. He still went into work every morning but now stayed at work two afternoons a week as well. That had been a hard decision but one he felt he needed to make. His ad campaigns were heating up, and he needed to be there to present them, but more than that, he needed something that made him feel like he was accomplishing something. At this point, sitting with Mac almost felt like a vigil… waiting for him to die. He hated feeling like that, but he did, and Andy and Amy had stopped trying to give him hope. Even Liam didn’t mention the possibility of Mac still pulling through nearly as often as he had.

T
HINGS
WERE
coming to a head with Mac’s Pizza Place too. Lily and her new assistant manager, Pete, had pooled their resources and approached Branson about buying the business outright, name and all, if Branson was okay with that.

“That way Mac’s name is still attached to it, as a sort of memorial,” Lily tried to explain, not realizing she was saying all the things Branson didn’t want to hear. “Of course keeping the name keeps the regulars returning too, so it’s not all altruistic. I’d be amenable to discussing buying just the physical business and changing the name if you’d rather.”

Either way Branson knew things couldn’t go on like they had been: waiting for the owner to wake up and walk right back into running the business like nothing had happened. Branson agonized over the whole thing. The thought of selling it felt—once again—like he was giving up on Mac. He had thought of quitting his job and taking over the business for Mac; but he knew enough about himself to know that he’d suck as a business owner. Besides, that didn’t seem fair to Lily, who had jumped in with both feet and managed the place for over half a year now without ever asking for part of the profit. Branson had insisted that she increase her salary to cover her new responsibilities, and she had, but barely. When Branson realized how little she was taking for herself and how much she was putting in the company’s account for Mac, Branson was touched. Lily had promoted Pete to manager, so some of the profit was going to his salary increase, but he had asked for very little. In fact all the employees donated a good part of their tips or salaries each week to help cover any of Mac’s expenses that weren’t covered by insurance.

After much mental wrestling, Branson finally agreed to sell the business to Lily and Pete, jointly, and have them keep the name. Somehow stripping Mac’s name off the place seemed like the final betrayal, and Branson couldn’t bear to think about it. Besides, Lily was right, customers usually followed new owners of a business, some maybe without knowing there were new owners, as long as the name didn’t change. They hadn’t seemed to notice much when Mac took over and changed the name, but Branson didn’t really want to take the chance. For all that Lily and Pete and the rest of the crew had done for Mac already, Branson felt he owed them the right to all the business they could muster.

The bank account was cashed out before changing hands, of course, and Branson put the money in a trust for Mac so he’d have something to start a new business on, if he ever got to that point. Not that Branson really thought he would.

T
HERE
HAD
been many developments regarding Branson’s friendship with Liam also. Branson had made an offhand comment one day, when Liam mentioned he had a sub for lunch, that he liked tuna salad subs. After that day Liam made sure he had one waiting for Branson on the afternoons he came back to Silver Linings for lunch. Liam got a half-hour lunch break and scheduled it so he could eat with Branson. At first they ate in Mac’s room, but as Branson found that more and more depressing, they started eating elsewhere. It had actually been Branson’s idea the first time.

Branson had gone into Mac’s room after a particularly bad morning at work, where he had lost an account he had been sure he’d win. Liam came in with the subs and a smile, like always, but Branson found he couldn’t stay in that room looking at his brother so still… just like he had been for longer than he cared to admit. It was a beautiful summer day outside, which was completely at odds with Branson’s mood, but he needed to get out into it.

“Let’s eat somewhere else,” Branson suggested, and Liam looked shocked.

“Really?” Liam finally asked. “You always like to eat with Mac.”

Branson turned toward his brother, reached out, and rubbed the motionless arm. “I’m sorry, Mac. I can’t stay here right now. I’ll be right back, though. Okay?” Then he took the sandwich Liam had offered and headed out of the room.

“Where do you want to eat?” Liam asked on the way out.

“Outside!” Branson answered definitively. “It doesn’t really matter where other than that. I just need to get outside for a while.”

“How about the picnic tables outside the cafeteria?” Liam suggested. “It’ll be good to get out into the sun for a while. Me skin could use a little color. I’m lily-white.”

Branson grinned at the disgusted face that Liam made as he held up his arms for inspection. “I thought that was your natural coloring.”

Liam chuckled. “It is. More’s the pity,” he commented with that brogue that Branson had come to adore. “That or bright red if I stay in the sun too long. I’m constitutionally unable to sport a tan.” Liam nodded toward Branson’s tanned arms.

“Yeah, well… my arms get tanned easily enough, but the rest of me is lily-white. Maybe not as pale as you are, but….”

“Well,” Liam put in. “I’ve always wished I could tan. Me Da can tan a little, but mostly he freckles. Ma always stays almost completely covered up in the sun ’n used to lather us kids in so much sunscreen, I swear we needed one size larger swim trunks just to accommodate it, so we did.”

Branson laughed—which, of course, had probably been Liam’s intention. They settled down outside to eat a pleasant lunch, and Branson was in a much better mood by the time they went back inside.

A
FTER
A
couple of weeks of eating lunch outside—or in the cafeteria if it was raining—and after months of eating together somewhere, Liam finally asked Branson to have dinner with him.

“It’s Wednesday,” he added after the initial invitation. “You normally come by briefly after working all day. I get off at three o’clock but I can meet you back here slightly before half five, since that’s when you usually get here. We’ll say hello to Mac, talk for a while, if you want, then go out to eat something that’s not cafeteria food or tuna subs. What do you say?”

Branson thought about it but couldn’t find anything wrong with going out to dinner with a friend—he was getting tired of eating at the care center—so he accepted. They had a fantastic night, and Branson knew he would agree to another night out if Liam asked.

That is until he talked to Andy the next day.

“So how was your date with Liam last night?” Andy asked lightheartedly, but with a sly grin.

Branson froze where he stood. “What?”

“Your date… last night… with tall, fair, and sexy. How did it go?”

Branson turned red and didn’t know how to handle that. “It wasn’t a date. I went to dinner with a friend. You keep telling me to get out more. I got out. I used to go out to dinner with you all the time, and you never called it a date.”