Too Soon For Love (23 page)

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you’ve hardly said more than three words since you got to the house. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I guess I’m just a little tired. Long day, you know?”

“If you didn’t feel like coming tonight you could have called me.”

“Yeah, I guess you could have brought Robby instead.” Alan heard the snarkiness in the comment and tried to make it better.

“I mean instead of going to all the trouble of buying an extra ticket.”

“It was no trouble. Pete sold me one of his tickets for face value. Robby tried to pay me for it. I nearly had to get rough with him. Good thing I didn’t have to since he could probably kick my ass. He’s always been quite the athlete.”

Alan wondered if that was true in bed as well as out, but at least he managed not to wonder out loud. Point for him.

The line for the men’s room moved quickly and they were in and out in no time.

“You want anything before we go back?”

“I’m good. But we can stop if you want.”

“That’s all right.”

Alan wished fervently that they didn’t have to go back at all, that they could just leave pretty boy Robby and go somewhere, just the two of them. Except he didn’t have his car.

“I should have brought my car. Then I could have driven you home after the game and saved Robby the extra trip.”

“Robby’s staying at the house.”

“He’s—” Alan stopped walking and stared at Michael. All he
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could think was,
oh fuck.

“What?”

Somehow Alan got himself moving again. “How did that happen?”

“How do you think? I asked him. He’s in town looking at grad schools and since I’m there all by myself, I thought I’d save him a few bucks and give myself some company.”

“Well, that’s convenient.”

“What is?”

“That he’s planning to go to school here. You two will be able to see more of each other, talk about old times.”

What the hell was he doing? But he couldn’t stop. His mouth had gotten away from him and he couldn’t seem to shut it, no matter how much he knew he should.

Michael stopped walking. “What the hell crawled up your ass, man?”

“I don’t know what you mean. C’mon, Michael, we’re in the way.”

They weren’t, but he didn’t want to have this discussion, and getting them back to their seats seemed like the best way to accomplish that.

“I don’t give a shit if we’re in the way. I want to know what your problem is with Robby.”

“I don’t have a problem. Now, will you just c’mon?” Alan tried to move Michael by sheer physical force. Just start walking in the hope that he’d fall in line. He didn’t.

Michael stood right where he was.

“Listen, Alan. Robby is an old friend of mine and Phillip’s. I like him. And I’m about sick of you acting like a jealous lover.”

They were attracting attention. A guy in a ball cap balancing three beers gave them a wide berth. Someone else sniggered.

Alan thought of simply walking away. As soon as he had the too soon FoR Love
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thought he was swamped with guilt. That was simply too awful to even contemplate. Only an asshole of epic proportion would even think that.

“Please, Michael.” Alan took Michael’s arm. “Can we please just talk about this later?”

“Fine.” Michael bit off the single word and yanked his arm free. He grabbed Alan’s elbow and started walking. His fingers dug in. Tomorrow Alan would have bruises in the shape of Michael’s fingers. He’d had similar bruises before in different places, gotten under very different circumstances.

They returned to their seats in silence. Throughout the rest of the game Michael said very little and what he did say was directed to Robby. After the final buzzer, Michael took Robby’s arm for the walk back to the parking lot.

Alan trailed behind, hands in his jacket pockets, a picture of dejection. He watched the two younger men, both slim, two tight little butts in snug-fitting jeans, as they walked in front of him.

Physically they weren’t so different, one dark and the other fair, each beautiful in his own way. And he ached with the knowledge that they were probably lovers, if not yet, then soon, especially after the display Alan had made of himself in the concourse.

And he hated the perfect blond Robby for that.

✧ ✦ ✧

He could fix it, Alan told himself for the hundredth time as he counted bed linens at work the next day. He could fix blondie’s wagon but good, the little ho. He could do it just by telling Michael about Robby and Phillip’s affair, by reading him that letter which Alan still had. Then they’d see how friendly Michael felt toward him.

Alan counted pillow cases and set the stack on his cart. He consulted his list patients whose linens he needed to change today.

Lee Dallas. He was the new guy, the stroke victim, the one whose lover sat faithfully by his bedside, the one who was only
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a dozen years older than Alan himself, the one whose prognosis, despite the therapy he was receiving, was grim. The bleed had been massive, the damage extensive, and though Lee had moments of what passed for lucidity, he spent a good portion of his day in a half-coma. Still, Freddy, Lee’s lover, came religiously and sat with him. He would read out loud and talk to him even when Lee didn’t appear to be conscious.

Freddy was so upbeat, it was almost hard to be around him.

Every time Alan went into Lee’s room, Freddy would greet him with a smile and a sunny hello. He would tell Lee that Alan was there and what would be done for him.

Given that Lee was more than likely not going to recover, the man’s devotion and his undying hope were heartbreaking. Still, Lee Dallas was lucky to have someone like Freddy in his life. And who knew, Lee might get better. Alan had seen stranger things.

Would Michael have spent weeks or months by Phillip’s bedside if the need had arisen? Most likely he would have. As awful as some people would think it was, Michael could count himself lucky it hadn’t come to that.

Would he ever have a Freddy in his life, Alan wondered?

Would he ever have a Michael, or ‘the’ Michael?

After last night that was looking highly unlikely.

Alan thought again of the letter. How easy it would be to take it to Michael and read it to him, let him know what Robby and Phillip were up to.

And then what?
A little voice that sounded suspiciously like Alan’s conscience asked. What would he say if Michael asked why he hadn’t told him about the letter before, like when it had first come? Because he’d wanted to save Michael the heartache, that was why. Because he’d thought that by dealing with the letter himself, by sending the obit to Robby, he could keep Michael from having to know the truth about the man he’d loved, the man he still mourned.

And Alan could admit to himself, he had hoped to keep Robby from trying again to contact Phillip and mistakenly contacting too soon FoR Love
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Michael instead. Well, that plan had backfired spectacularly.

The morning bed changes went quickly and without the usual round of complaints and requests. Alan saved Lee Dallas’s room for last. He couldn’t say why, sometimes he just had a feeling and went with it. As it happened it was good that he had.

When he reached Lee’s room, Freddy was already there.

There were special arrangements that allowed him to visit outside regular visiting hours. Given the patient’s serious condition and his standing as a local artist of some note, the administration had been more than willing to be flexible when the request had been made by Dallas’s brother Jon that the family—and this included Freddy—be allowed to come and go as they pleased, provided they didn’t disturb the running of the facility.

They didn’t. And in fact, in the weeks Lee Dallas had been a patient, Alan had never seen anyone visiting him, save his partner.

And Freddy went out of his way not to trouble the staff.

But rather than his usual sunny hello, Alan found Freddy with his head down and his cheek pressed to the back of one of Lee’s hands. His eyes were closed, his cheeks wet with tears.

Alan deliberately made noise as he entered the room to let the man know he was there.

Freddy’s head came up and he blinked before scrubbing his sleeve over his tear-streaked face.

“Oh, Alan, it’s you.”

“Hey, Freddy, you need something? Anything I can do?”

“They’re moving him, Alan. They’re taking him away from me.” Freddy’s voice broke and two giant tears spilled over and rolled down his cheeks.

“Who is?”

“Lee’s family. The insurance won’t cover this place and they don’t want to pay. So they’re moving him.”

“Where?”

“Portland.”

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“Maine? That’s far.”

“Oregon. It’s where the rest of the family is, all except for Lee and Jon.”

This news brought with it a fresh round of sobbing. Freddy crumpled in on himself. He clung to his partner’s hand and wept shamelessly.

Shit.

He’d seen it before, families, even ones with plenty of money, who were unwilling to spend the exorbitant fees for the private nursing facility and who, sometimes against the advice of the doctor, moved the patient to a less expensive place.

Sometimes it worked out all right. Many times it didn’t. But Freddy didn’t need to hear all that.

In silence Alan stripped the bed and remade it with fresh sheets. He finished by replacing the pillow case then laid a hand on Freddy’s shoulder.

“You want to get some coffee, Freddy? Do you have time before work?”

“I’m not going to work.”

“Then let’s get some coffee.”

When Freddy turned toward the elevator, Alan touched his arm. “Come this way. We’ll go to the staff lounge. The coffee’s better than in the cafeteria. And I saw a box of doughnuts. We’ll grab a couple if they haven’t all been snarfed up.”

Alan escorted Freddy to the staff lounge. He got them both coffee and the last two cinnamon Danishes.

“Thanks.” Freddy accepted the coffee and sipped.

Alan took a seat across from him at the small table and slid one of the plates toward his companion. “When did you find out all this?”

“Last night.” Freddy broke a corner off the Danish and began to crumble it between his fingers. “Jon called me and said they had a family teleconference. Can you believe it? A family too soon FoR Love
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teleconference? I mean, what kind of family does stuff like that?”

“I don’t know,” Alan said because something seemed to be required. “I guess Lee’s family does.”

“Yeah.” Freddy took a breath. He visibly tried to steady himself. “Anyway, they decided it would be best all around if Lee is moved to Oregon. That’s exactly how he said it, if Lee is moved to Oregon, like he’s a goddamn piece of furniture that can just be moved around.”

“Best for who?” Alan sipped his coffee. It tasted slightly bitter, like it had been brewed for too long. Or maybe it was his mood that was bitter.

“Better for them. Certainly not better for me and not better for Lee.”

The Danish was rapidly turning into a pile of crumbs on the plate, Freddy’s fingers smeared with cinnamon icing.

“You know what they’re doing, don’t you?” Freddy seized a napkin from the metal holder on the table and scrubbed at the icing on his hands. “They’re taking him away because they think he’s dying and they want the money. That’s the only reason.

They’re not going to take care of him, not like I do. They’ll stick him in some facility and never go to see him. He won’t get better because nobody will be there to see that he does.”

“You can’t make Lee better by force of will. You know that, right?” Alan’s tone was gentle.

“Of course I know that. I’m not an idiot.” Freddy threw down the napkin and grabbed his coffee. “But I’ve seen him improving, Alan. Just yesterday he opened his eyes and he looked right at me and I know he saw me.”

“When was this? Did you report it to anyone?”

“I tried. I called the nurse and told her what happened and she said they’d make a note of it. So I’m going to stay here today, and tell the doctor myself when he comes around.”

“Did he respond to you in any way? Did you ask him to blink or squeeze your hand, anything?”

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Freddy shook his head. “I got so excited when I saw his eyes were open, I forgot all those things we talked about. But I swear, he looked right at me. And his eyes moved. It’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“It could be.”

“So you see why I have to be with him. If I hadn’t been here, nobody would have seen. Nobody would know. What am I going to do, Alan? How can I stop them from taking him?”

The door to the lounge opened and Ross walked in. His gaze fell on Alan and Freddy and he frowned. The expression disappeared almost as soon as it had come, but not before Alan saw it.

Ross came toward them, a smile firmly affixed to his lips.

“Mr. Hale.” Ross greeted Freddy first then turned toward Alan with a brief nod. “Alan. And how is Mr. Dallas today?”

That was one thing that Alan had to give Ross his props on, he was great at remembering people’s names as well as their particulars. It was one of the things that made him a good administrator, or if not a good one, at least one who was popular with the patients and their families.

Freddy turned to Ross, his whole face lighting up. “I was just telling Alan that Lee was awake last night. He looked right at me and I know he recognized me.”

“Did you alert the nursing staff?”

Freddy nodded. “I did, and I’m going to tell his doctor when I see him this morning.” Freddy paused as if unsure then he said,

“Dr. Landers, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Alan noticed that Ross didn’t correct Freddy’s assumption that he was a doctor. Actually, Ross was a nurse, not a doctor, who had switched from patient care to administration nearly a decade earlier.

Freddy was explaining the situation with Lee’s family, the impending move and what it would mean, to him, to Lee and too soon FoR Love
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