JFT #39/In The Rough
JFT #39
In The Rough
"I should warn you, I'm a terrible patient," I told the nurse who all but
tucked me into bed. I tried to charm her, God knows I could use the
support, considering how I felt about hospitals.
"You should get some rest." she said kindly, patting the back of my hand.
That made me feel either incredibly young or positively ancient. Neither
one made me look forward to being here.
"How long do you think I'll be here?" I asked too brightly.
She adjusted the oxygen tubing around my face with deft fingers and
smiled. "About a week. Maybe more."
My heart sank. I had so much at stake. None of it *here*. A great deal
could happen in a week. I wasn't sure I wanted to give Arthur that long to
think about life *without* me. He might like it.
I sighed. Being sick was making me feel insecure. Or perhaps it was the
other way around. That was unsettling enough to be true.
By the time the nurse left, I missed her bustling back and forth. It was
activity and a very necessary distraction.
Curt and Brian came in together, looking predictably worried. As much as I
needed the company, I couldn't bear their pity. Not when I knew that I was
as much at fault as Arthur.
"Curt, please, stop fussing over me," I snapped. Curt relinquished his
grip on my pillow and subsided. I had never seen him obey without question
before. He *was* upset. And *I* made him that way.
"Is there anything I can get you?" he asked tentatively.
"No." Pause. "Yes. You can go home and take Brian with you. No sense in
*all* of us being here."
"You shouldn't be alone--"
"I would *love* to be alone!" I shouted. Then I immediately regretted
raising my voice. Curt brushed at his face with his fingertips and I knew
that was one more sin that could be laid at my doorstep. Brian tugged
gently at him and whispered something I couldn't make out. Probably about
what an ungrateful wretch I was.
That was confirmed a few moments later when Brian said, "Most people would
be glad to hear they're not going to die, Jack. You seem almost
disappointed."
"Yes, well, you've got to have a *life* if you're going to live, don't
you?" I whispered.
"You've got one," Curt said gruffly, shaking off Brian's attempts to
restrain him again.
I rolled onto my side and shut my eyes. "That...remains to be seen." My
life, if one could call it that, was on hold till Arthur made up his mind.
"Y'know, you were wrong, Jack. You gave him space when he didn't ask for
any. And now..." Curt's voice trailed off, and I had to turn around.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just..."
Brian cleared his throat and nodded at his lover. "I think what Curt's
trying not to say, Jack, is...you did it again."
I stared at him bleakly. "Go on."
"You more or less told him to stay away--"
"I did not--"
"Jack..." Brian sounded tired and not a little exasperated. "You need him
here and you won't admit it. Did it ever occur to you that maybe *he*
needs to be here, too?"
"Oh, God." I might be in denial, but I knew the truth when it smacked me
right between the eyes.
Curt took my hand in his and stroked it restlessly. "Jack, you've got to
start letting him make his own decisions or you're going to lose him."
"I-I thought I w-was--"
"About everything, Jack. You need to be honest with him. Even if it
hurts."
I would have smiled at having my own words thrown back at me, but pain
blinded me. "I told you that," I whispered.
"It was good advice then...and it's still good." As if to illustrate his
point, Brian curled himself around Curt's body to peer at me.
"Ask for what you need, Jack. You might get it," Curt said, his hand
resting possessively on Brian's hip.
******
I tried to sleep, but it was impossible. My chest ached. Not because I was
sick, but because my heart was someplace else. I knew I promised to give
him time, but what if he didn't want that? I never gave him a chance to
object.
I broke my word and rang the flat. I told myself I just needed to hear his
voice, but it was more than that.
"Hullo?"
He didn't sound a bit sleepy. Was it possible he was waiting anxiously for
me to call? Or was I just projecting my own timeworn romantic fantasies?
I bit my lip and tried to think of something intelligent to say. "I--"
"Is that you, Jack?"
Breathless, even hopeful. Oh, God, I needed that.
"Are you...are you all right?"
A tear rolled silently down my cheek and I clung to the phone even more
tightly. "No, I'm not."
"What...what's wrong?"
Be honest. Even if it hurts. "I...needed to hear your voice."
Arthur made a noise that could have been a stifled sob, and I knew I had
to get off the phone before I broke down completely. I couldn't let him
see me that way, I couldn't give away any more...oh, was that it? Was I so
afraid that he could never love *me*?
"I need you here. With me." I said it so quickly, I thought I imagined it.
There was a brief silence, and I thought, Oh, my fucking God, this was a
mistake, one I was going to pay for the rest of my life.
The words to take it back were already on my tongue when he answered.
"Thank God," he wept.
"Can I come over now?" I could hear the tears that clogged his throat, and
I thought, I put those there, but I had no time to feel guilty. He wanted
to come, of his own fucking volition, and that did make all the difference
to both of us.
"I'll be waiting."
I wouldn't sleep till he got here.
*****