The Road Home (2 page)
CHAPTER 2
“I
thought you said you were okay with turning forty.”
thought you said you were okay with turning forty.”
Burke opened his eyes. He had been sleeping off and on for most of the morning. His head was still fuzzy from the pain medication the nurse had injected into his IV when, at dawn, he had woken up screaming. He was no longer convinced that he was dying, but his whole body ached, despite the numbing effects of the Demerol. He looked at the face hovering over him and blinked several times, trying to place it.
“Gregg?” he asked, fishing a name from the depths of his foggy memory. He coughed, clearing his throat, and a glass of water found its way into his hand.
“Here,” said Gregg. “Drink up.”
Burke drained most of the glass, then handed it back to his friend. “How did you know?” he asked Gregg.
“Apparently, I'm still listed as your emergency contact with your insurance company,” Gregg replied.
Burke tried to laugh, but it hurt his chest, and he ended up coughing instead. He and Gregg had been broken up for almost three years, yet it had never occurred to him to change his insurance information. Now he was glad he hadn't.
“I always thought the three-in-the-morning phone call would be about my mother dropping dead,” said Gregg as he pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down. “Frankly, I was a little disappointed that it wasn't.”
“Did they say what happened?” Burke asked. “All I remember is driving home after the party.”
“Raccoon,” said Gregg. “Or maybe a dog. You swerved to avoid hitting it and ran off the road. Lucky for you, the guy behind you saw the whole thing and stopped. You should send him a thank-you card.”
“My leg's busted,” said Burke.
“I noticed,” Gregg replied. He nodded at the pulley system that elevated Burke's right legâwhich was wrapped in a castâabove the bed. “Your arm doesn't look too good, either.”
Burke glanced down and saw the cast that covered his left forearm. “Not the left one,” he said. “Fuck me.”
“What else did you manage to break?” Gregg asked.
Burke shook his head. “I'm not sure,” he said. “I kind of just got here.”
Gregg laughed. “Well, we'll find out,” he said. He reached behind Burke. “Sit up if you can,” he ordered.
Burke tried, wincing at the pain. Gregg adjusted the pillows behind Burke, and Burke lay back against them. “Thanks,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I know what a baby you are when you're sick,” said Gregg.
Burke nodded. It was true, he hated not feeling well. It made him feel out of control and, worse, dependent on someone else. He'd never been good at being taken care of.
Gregg went to the window and opened the curtains, letting in the bright morning light. Watching him, Burke was reminded of how much of a nester Gregg was. He loved taking care of thingsâhouses, animals, people. Ironically, it had been the thing that had ended their relationship. Gregg had wanted them to move in together; Burke had been afraid the closeness would be smothering. After a year of waiting for Burke to change his mind, Gregg had moved on.
“That's better,” Gregg said, looking around the room. “I hear hospital chic is in this year. Martha Stewart just did a segment on decorating with catheters and speculums.”
“I understand they make great Christmas ornaments,” said a voice from the doorway. A woman in a long white jacket walked in and extended her hand to Gregg. “I'm Dr. Liu,” she said. “I assume you're the husband?”
“No,” Gregg said. “The ex-husband.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” the doctor said.
“Don't be,” Gregg assured her. “He was a lousy husband.”
Dr. Liu smiled and turned to Burke. “And how are you feeling today?”
“Not as good as I did yesterday,” said Burke.
“I wouldn't think so,” the doctor replied. “You knocked yourself around pretty thoroughly.”
“My leg and my arm,” Burke said vaguely.
“Among other things,” Dr. Liu told him. “You also broke a couple of ribs and came this close to shattering your pelvis.” She held her fingers an inch apart to emphasize how fortunate Burke was not to have done that. “But the leg is the big thing,” she continued. “It took a lot to put it back together. Lucky for you, I'm good at puzzles.”
“I like her,” said Gregg, grinning at Burke.
Burke ignored him. “When can I get out of here?” he asked.
“Let's talk about that,” said Dr. Liu. “I want you here for at least a week.”
“A week!” Burke exclaimed. “But I've got work lined up. I'm supposed to shoot Angelina Jolie for
Boston
magazine on Tuesday.”
Boston
magazine on Tuesday.”
“Not going to happen,” said Dr. Liu. “You're not walking on that leg for a while.”
“What's a while?” Burke demanded.
“Six weeks minimum,” the doctor answered. “Maybe longer.”
“No,” said Burke, shaking his head. “I can't be laid up for six weeks. No way.”
“What did I say?” Gregg said, wagging a finger at him. “You. Sick. Big baby.”
Burke groaned. “I have to get out of here,” he said.
“You're going to need help,” said Dr. Liu. “Do you have someone who can stay with you?”
“I don't know,” said Burke. He was irritated now and couldn't think. The pain was coming back, and he wanted more Demerol. “Maybe.”
“Well, think about it,” said the doctor. “As I said, I want you here for the next week. You can make arrangements for when you're released. But I won't let you out of here until you do.”
Dr. Liu excused herself to see other patients and left Burke and Gregg alone again. Burke, thinking about what she'd said, stared at the ceiling. After a few minutes he realized that Gregg had grown oddly quiet. He looked over at his former lover, who was sitting in the chair, looking at his hands.
“Hey,” said Burke, “could I . . .”
“No,” Gregg said quickly.
“How do you know what I'm going to ask?” said Burke.
“You can't stay with me,” said Gregg. “I'm sorry, but it's just a bad idea. Besides, Rick wouldn't go for it.”
“How do you know?” Burke argued.
“He doesn't like you,” said Gregg.
Burke, surprised, looked at him.
“I'm sorry, sweetie, but he doesn't. He thinks you're overbearing.”
“I am not,” Burke objected.
Gregg gave him a small smile. “You kind of are,” he said. “Besides, I have to work. What about your insurance? Maybe they'll pay for an in-home nurse. You might even get a hot one,” he added.
“My insurance doesn't pay for anything,” said Burke. “I'll be lucky if they cough up anything for this little vacation.”
“I can call them for you,” Gregg said. “We'll find out.”
“I don't want a nurse,” Burke complained. “The last thing I need is a stranger helping me to the toilet and trying to talk to me about his life while he's giving me a sponge bath.”
Gregg didn't come back with a smart response, which surprised Burke. It also worried him. Gregg's sharp sense of humor waned only when he was trying to avoid confrontation. The fact that he wasn't saying anything meant that he didn't want to discuss the situation.
“Fine,” Burke said after a minute or two had gone by. “Call the insurance company. See what they'll do. I'll figure something out.” He waited for Gregg to nod in agreement, then added, “I'm tired. I think I should sleep now.”
Gregg got up. “I'll let you know what they say. And you're welcome.”
Burke didn't look at him as he mumbled, “Thanks.”
“I'll be back tonight,” said Gregg.
When Gregg was gone, Burke tried to form a plan. He hoped his insurance would come through, although he really doubted it. Having never been really sick, he'd always managed to get by with the bare minimum, figuring he would up his coverage when he got older.
Yeah, well, you
are
old now,
he told himself.
are
old now,
he told himself.
He ran through a list of his friends, thinking about who might be able either to take him in or, better, to come live with him for a month or two, if he needed help for that long. He didn't like the idea of having to move in with someone else. He liked being in his own place, even if he couldn't get around it very well.
Gregg apparently was out as a potential nursemaid. But he had other friends. Oscar, maybe, or Dane. But Oscar worked long hours, and Dane was too much of a cock hound. Burke didn't relish the idea of being in Dane's guest room and listening to his host getting it on with one of his numerous tricks.
What about Tony?
he wondered. Tony lived alone, and as a writer, he worked out of his house.
But he has cats,
Burke reminded himself. Just the thought of Tony's three HimalayansâLaVerne, Maxine, and Pattyâmade his throat close up. No, his allergies would never survive an extended stay with the Andrews Sisters.
he wondered. Tony lived alone, and as a writer, he worked out of his house.
But he has cats,
Burke reminded himself. Just the thought of Tony's three HimalayansâLaVerne, Maxine, and Pattyâmade his throat close up. No, his allergies would never survive an extended stay with the Andrews Sisters.
He continued mentally working his way through his address book. But for one reason or another, nobody fit the bill. Abe's apartment was too small. Jesse was a slob. Ellen was a vegan. One by one he crossed the names off his list until he had run out of options. Then he rang for the nurse, asked for another shot of Demerol, and drifted into sleep.
When he awoke again, it was dark outside and his room smelled like his elementary school cafeteria. Gregg was once again seated in the chair by Burke's bed. He indicated a tray on the table beside him.
“Salisbury steak,” he said. “And Tater Tots. Who's a lucky boy?”
He picked the tray up and placed it on the movable tabletop that swung out from the wall beside Burke's bed. Positioning the tabletop in front of Burke, he laid out the napkin and silverware as if he were setting a table.
“And what will you be drinking this evening, sir?” he asked.
“Gin and tonic,” said Burke. “Make it a double.”
“Water it is,” Gregg replied, pouring some from the plastic pitcher that sat on the table beside the bed.
Burke picked up the fork and poked at the meat on his plate. “When I was a kid, I always loved Wednesdays, because it was Salisbury steak day at school,” he told Gregg. “I was in college before I realized that it was just a fancy name for hamburger.”
“That explains your sophisticated palate,” Gregg joked. It was another difference between themâGregg loved fine dining (Burke called it snob food), and Burke's idea of cooking was opening a can of soup.
Burke was suddenly ravenous. He attacked his dinner with his good hand, managing despite the fact that he was a lefty and the utensils felt alien in his right hand. He wolfed down the Salisbury steak and Tater Tots. He even ate the green beans, which normally he would ignore. Only when he turned his attention to the small dish of chocolate pudding did he resume talking to Gregg.
“Did you talk to the insurance people?”
“I did,” Gregg answered. He cleared away Burke's tray before continuing. “And you were right. They aren't going to be particularly helpful.”
“Define âparticularly,'” said Burke.
Gregg sat down. “They'll pay only fifty dollars a day for in-home care,” he said.
Burke swore.
“And that's after the five-thousand-dollar deductible,” Gregg informed him.
Burke's response brought one of the nurses to his door. “Are you all right?” she asked, looking more than a little concerned.
“He's fine,” Gregg assured her. “He's having sticker shock.”
The nurse waited for Burke to confirm that he didn't need anything, then left the men alone.
Gregg sighed. “So where does that leave us?” he asked. “I mean you. Where does that leave you?”
“I don't know,” Burke told him. “You don't want me, and I can't think of anyone else.”
“It's not that I don't want you,” said Gregg. “It'sâ”
“I know,” Burke interrupted. “I'm overbearing.”
“Just a tad,” said Gregg. “And I work. Don't forget that. What about your other friends?”
“Sluts,” said Burke, waving a hand around. “Cats. Smokers. Don't eat meat.”
“I see,” Gregg said. “Which brings us back to square one.”
“I have to pee,” said Burke.
“What?” Gregg asked.
“Pee,” Burke repeated. “I have to pee. Help me up.”
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