A Broken Kind of Life (30 page)

“I told him that,” Michelle assured her husband as he worked to pull himself back together. He didn’t cry, but sorrow and remorse radiated from him—kind of the way Aaron used to be. After a few minutes of silence, he looked to his wife and asked the question that needed to be asked.

“So, why does Aaron seeing a therapist pose a problem? Just the fact that he’s sitting here at the table, participating in the conversation, shows that something is helping. A few months ago, he’d have gone to his room and let us decide what should happen for him.”

“The therapist he’s seeing is Spencer’s father, Henry Thomas,” she said with a sigh, and when her husband didn’t immediately show any sign of recognition, she elaborated. “You and I looked into taking Aaron to Dr. Thomas when he first came home. Then we found out that his practice had closed because his partner slept with an underage patient.”

“Oh, that’s right. Wasn’t he the alcoholic?” The smile slid from his father’s face as he remembered, and suddenly, Aaron felt bad for Dr. Thomas. Was that all anyone thought of when his name was mentioned? Just like Aaron. The scars, the attack—that’s all anyone thought of when Aaron’s name was mentioned. It’s like he didn’t exist; only his reputation existed, and he had a reputation for something he hadn’t even done. Just like Dr. Thomas and his partner sleeping with a patient.

“Yes, that’s why I’m worried about Aaron seeing him. I’m also worried that he’s been hiding his therapy,” Michelle said with a glance at Aaron, who they were talking about like he wasn’t sitting at the table.

“I didn’t know about the alcoholism, but even if I did, it probably wouldn’t have stopped me. I hid it from you because it was the first adult decision I’d ever made, and I didn’t want anything to mess it up,” Aaron said but didn’t add the unspoken
like what’s happening right now
before he continued. “I don’t care who his partner slept with.
He
didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he’s done lots of things right. That first day I went to Spencer’s house to work on the project, I had a flashback. Not only that, I hit my head on the coffee table and split it open so there was blood. Dr. Thomas knew exactly what to do, and he’s been helping me ever since. He’s teaching me ways to deal with the attack, helping me figure out what my triggers are for the flashbacks, and we’ve found some healthy outlets for my stress.”

“Aaron, it’s not that we doubt what’s he’s doing. I’m just worried about his intentions, and about his drinking problem. What if he’s a violent drunk? What if he hurts you?” his mother asked.

Aaron hoped they could see what kind of progress he’d made over the last few months, hell, over the last few weeks, and understand that, whatever his failings, Dr. Thomas was a good influence.

“He never drank while I was there. I had no idea about the alcohol until you mentioned it today. Every session has been controlled and had some kind of purpose—like the one you saw today. He’s been working with me to help identify the triggers that set off my panic attacks. You’ll notice I haven’t had a bad one in a while. Storms, blood, being touched unexpectedly, even the smell of gasoline—they all trigger memories in my head of that night. I have been learning to either avoid them or manage my reaction to them. Stress makes them worse. Dr. Thomas has been teaching me ways to reduce my stress. I have an online blog that I work out my feelings in. He had me start looking for online support groups so that I could talk to other people who understood, because that helps me not be so isolated. There are, like, a million different things that he’s been doing to help me and….” Aaron held his mother’s gaze and steadied himself before he spoke again. “And, I’m not going to stop seeing him, Mom. I know that you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate that, but I’ve felt more human in the past month than I have for two years. Spencer has been taking me to his house for therapy, and Dr. Thomas isn’t charging me, so it doesn’t go through the insurance. I love and respect you both, but you can’t stop me from staying under his care.”

“Aaron, we just want what is best for you,” his father said as his mother stared open-mouthed at him.

“Dr. Thomas is what’s best for me.”

Hours later, Aaron lay in bed and stared unseeing at the darkened ceiling. They’d talked for nearly two hours, always coming back to the same point about Dr. Thomas’s alcoholism. He couldn’t believe his parents wanted to take away the one thing in his life that made him feel human.

“T
HEY
haven’t said anything else about it. Maybe they’re looking for a psych ward to stick me in,” Aaron said with a sigh as he let his head fall back onto the couch in the rec room and closed his eyes. Spencer held on tight to Aaron’s hand, ignoring the blatant looks his father gave them from his wing-backed chair. The coffee table in the center of the room seemed to be the line in the sand. It had been a hard couple of weeks with finals, wrapping up the project, and then Aaron’s mother’s epic meltdown.

“Aaron, they can’t have you committed unless you are an immediate danger to yourself or to others. Nothing you have told me in the last several months leads me to believe that you’re either,” his father told Aaron, apparently to keep him calm, but Spencer could feel, just by the lack of tension in his hand, that Aaron wasn’t stressed. It felt more like he was resigned. Spencer had enough tension for both of them. In his heart, he knew the confrontation wasn’t over, but he had no idea where things would go next.

“I. Know. They. Want. You. To. Stop. Seeing. My. Dad. But. They…. Do. They. Like. Me? Would. They. Make. You. Stop. Seeing. Me?” He hated the vulnerability in his voice, but Aaron was the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time. His chest ached with the thought that Aaron’s parents might talk him out of them being together. More and more each day, especially during moments like this, sitting on the couch just holding hands, he was growing to love Aaron. He’d fight for that, against his father or Aaron’s parents or anyone else who tried to separate them. They’d gone through too much.

“No, I don’t think so. Even if they did, I wouldn’t care,” Aaron said, and the corners of his mouth turned up into a soft, secretive smile. With a quick glance at Spencer’s father, Aaron mouthed soundlessly
I’d miss you. You make me feel special. Besides, you’re a great kisser.

Spencer had never seen Aaron be so frivolous and flirtatious before. It lightened his heart, and he leaned over very slowly and kissed Aaron on the cheek.

His pocket buzzed just as his father looked up toward the hallway.

Doorbell

“I’ll get it,” his father said and pushed up out of the recliner. Aaron rested his temple against Spencer’s cheek. Spencer turned his head slightly and kissed Aaron’s forehead. They sat like that for a minute, which turned to two, and then five before Spencer’s father returned to the room carrying a manila envelope and some official-looking papers. He looked sad, almost resigned, when he sat back down in the chair.

“Dad. Is. Everything. Okay?” Spencer asked and brought his head up from where it had been resting on the top of Aaron’s. His father flipped through the paperwork, and Spencer saw that the front page looked like some kind of court document. It had the boxes in the top left and some kind of seal or stamp on it.

“Aaron, your parents have filed a temporary injunction to prevent me from treating you. I’m sorry.” He handed Aaron the bundle of papers, held together precariously by their fold, and walked back out to the hallway. Spencer had a feeling he would find his father in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar with a drink.

Aaron already had his cell phone in hand when Spencer looked up into his reddened face to see the rage building.

“Aaron. We. Should. Talk. About. This. With. Dad,” Spencer told him, and it felt like every word needed to be forced from his lungs, because he didn’t want to talk things over with his dad. He wanted to do exactly what Aaron was doing—calling Mrs. Downing to yell and scream and rage about the way they had treated his father. Guilt roiled in his stomach like acid. He had brought Aaron and his father together. It was his idea to put Aaron in his father’s path, so he’d try to help—and look what happened. He’d gotten his father into legal trouble.

“Mom, it’s Aaron. No, I’m not ready for you to pick me up. In fact, I don’t think I’ll be ready to see you again until tomorrow. I’m going to stay at Spencer’s tonight. Do I think it’s a good idea? I think it’s a better idea than serving his father with court papers and taking away the only thing in two years that’s helped me feel like a real person instead of a walking corpse. You didn’t listen to me at all that night we talked about Dr. Thomas, did you? No, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ll be home tomorrow. Yes. ’Bye, Mom.” Aaron threw the phone onto the coffee table and put his head in his hands. Spencer looked up to see his father standing in the doorway. He must have heard Aaron’s fight with his mother.

“Guess that means you’re staying for dinner?” Spencer’s father asked, and Aaron looked up, sorrow filling his face.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Thomas. I’m sorry about what my parents have done.”

“Aaron, none of this is your fault. I offered to treat you and you accepted. Everything else is pretty much my own fault,” he said and shrugged away from the door frame.

“I should have told them,” Aaron said. His body felt so tense, like a wild animal ready to spring. The remorse on his face and the sadness in his eyes broke Spencer’s heart.

“If you had, they would have reacted the same way, and you wouldn’t have made the progress that you did. I will speak to my attorney and see what we can do to fight the injunction. Tomorrow, I’ll speak with your parents and see if we can’t work this out. Try not to worry,” Dr. Thomas told him with a weary smile and went back to the kitchen.

“I guess I should have asked before I blew up at my mom, but would you mind if I stayed over? I can sleep down here in the rec room on the couch,” Aaron asked, looking rather abashed as he caught Spencer’s eye.

Spencer’s imagination had moved far past that and jumped to watching them making out in his bed. He shook it off immediately, because Aaron just couldn’t deal with that yet. God, he’d spent more time whacking off in the shower since Aaron kissed him than he had his entire junior year of high school.

“Of. Course. You. Can. Stay. And. You. Do. Not. Have. To. Sleep. Down. Here. I… I, uhm…. Have. A. Queen. It. Is. Big. Enough. For. Both. Of. Us,” Spencer told him, the naked, raw hope plain in his voice. His heart ached when Aaron closed his eyes.

Aaron didn’t shake his head, but his entire body stiffened. “I don’t know if I can do that. I have really bad nightmares sometimes, and if I wake up in bed with someone—”

“Then. We. Will. Deal. With. It. I. Have. Seen. Your. Panic. Attacks. But. If. You. Do. Not. Want. To. I. Will. Understand,” Spencer murmured like it was the last thing on earth he wanted to say. Aaron’s body didn’t relax as Spencer expected it to. “What. Is. It?”

“It shouldn’t have to be this hard.” Aaron looked away, and it took everything Spencer had not to pull Aaron back against his chest. “I’m eighteen years old. I should be able to sleep in my boyfriend’s arms without freaking out.”

Spencer smiled; he couldn’t help himself. The warm feeling bubbled in his chest like a laugh, but stronger.

“What?” Aaron asked.

“I. Liked. That. You. Called. Me. Your. Boyfriend.”

Aaron smiled, and the warm feeling in Spencer’s chest grew just a bit more.

“I like it too,” Aaron said and leaned over to rest his head on Spencer’s chest.

“Come. And. Lay. Down. With. Me. If. You. Want. To. Come. Down. Stairs. I. Will. Set. Up. The. Couch. For. You,” Spencer said into Aaron’s hair. Aaron stayed quiet for several minutes, and Spencer was afraid he might have missed the answer when, finally, Aaron nodded. Spencer held Aaron for a long time, letting him get used to being held, before he went into the kitchen to scrounge something for dinner.

Spencer’s nerves were like live wires under his skin as he got undressed and ready for bed. He’d already brushed his teeth and then got out of the way to let Aaron into the en suite bathroom. He could almost see Aaron as he stood on the other side of the door to the bathroom and changed into a pair of Spencer’s huge, baggy sweats and a long-sleeved thermal from his father.

“There. Is. An. Extra. Toothbrush. In. The. Cabinet. Above. The. Sink,” Spencer called through the bit of wood that separated them. Spencer climbed into the bed and slid back to the far side, next to the wall. He usually slept on the other side, but he didn’t want Aaron to feel trapped in any way.

He turned on his side and faced away from the wall while he waited for Aaron to come out. It took far longer than he expected, and he wondered if maybe his friend was afraid, or if he was having a panic attack. Spencer slid over and had thrown his legs over the side of the bed when the bathroom door opened. Scrambling back to the far side of the bed, he threw the blankets over his legs as Aaron emerged. The sweats hung down at the ankles, and he had to roll up the sleeves on the shirt. He looked like a little kid in grown-up clothes, lost and alone. The frightened look on his face killed Spencer, and he nearly asked if Aaron wanted to sleep downstairs.