Starting with the Unexpected (19 page)

“Heard anything?” he asked as he took a seat next to my mother.

I kind of wanted to smack him. Did he really think we’d been sitting there without bothering to get a few details? But my brain wandered off elsewhere before I could take offense, and I was back to staring at the television.

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” I heard Mom tell him. “They had to go in and fix his lung, from the sound of it, but the last time the nurse checked with us, they were almost done.”

Jordan sucked in a breath. “Oh man. A lung?”

“A punctured lung, fractured ribs, a minor concussion, and a broken arm,” I rattled off robotically. I was pretty sure I was horrified by the extent of the injuries, but I was too numb to tell at that point.

Jordan gave me a worried look, but I ignored it and stared at the television instead. Before he could say anything, Tate stepped back into the waiting room with someone else in tow. “Guys, this is Doctor Harcourt,” he said.

The doctor nodded in greeting. “Marcus is in recovery right now. The damage to the lung was minor, and we successfully repaired it once we suctioned off the excess air from his chest cavity. His right arm is in a cast, and the injury to his ribs is relatively minor, as is his concussion. We’ll want to keep him at least until tomorrow to keep an eye on him, possibly another day past that if we’re still worried about the lung.”

“I want to see him,” I said firmly.

“We’ll move him to a private room in another hour or so,” the doctor reassured me. “We’re just waiting for him to wake up from the anesthesia, which really shouldn’t be long, but since things are a little busy tonight, it’ll be a bit before he gets moved. As soon as he’s moved in, you’ll be able to go in and see him. You’re his partner?” He waited for my nod and smiled at me when I did. “We’ll make sure you have at least a somewhat comfortable chair while you sit with him, then. In the meantime, I suggest you all get some breakfast and come back in an hour.”

“I’ll stay,” I said firmly and turned to Mom and Jordan. “You guys should go get something, though. I’ll stay here in case Bran decides to join us.”

“You need to eat,” my mother chastised.

“Yeah. That’s gone really well for me over the past few hours, hasn’t it?” I scoffed. “Thanks, but I’d rather not have something in my stomach to throw up again. I’ll wait.”

Jordan stared at me, and I tried not to squirm. “You sure?” he finally asked.

I nodded, and he stood and offered my mother a hand. “Come on, Linda. Let’s go see about some food.”

“Sure,” she said uncertainly. She let Jordan help her up. “You’re sure you don’t want anything, honey?”

“No, thanks,” I said and went back to doing a splendid impression of a zombie watching television. I heard one of them sigh, but they left me to my wallowing.

It couldn’t have been too much longer before someone sat down heavily in the chair next to my wheelchair. I glanced over to find Brandon looking at me, the concern plain to see. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I answered. I was surprised by how weary my voice sounded, but I didn’t much care.

“You all right?”

I stared at Brandon for several long minutes, feeling the press of tears behind my eyes at his obvious worry for me. “No,” I managed to sob, the word ripped out of me. The tears that had begun to gather started to flow, and my breath heaved out of me in another sob.

Brandon pulled me close, though it was a little awkward, given the wheelchair’s armrest. “It’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Marcus will be fine. You’ll see.”

I continued to sob at my brother about how I could have lost Marcus, about how it was all my fault because we’d been fighting, about how I was afraid I’d never again be able to tell him I loved him. I was pretty sure Brandon had no idea what I was saying, considering that I was crying too hard to be understandable, but he sat with me and let me cry on his shoulder as he patted my back and whispered reassurances. It had been a long time since I’d felt like my brother had my back, but there was no doubt who was watching over me right then.

“You’re lucky,” Brandon finally said. “You have someone who’s madly in love with you and loves you no matter how much of an ass you are. You get to be who you really are, without any pretenses. I envy you that.”

I wiped my eyes. Still giving in to the occasional hiccupping sob, I shook my head. “I don’t understand,” I said.

“I’m kind of glad you don’t,” Brandon replied.

I wanted to ask him why, but that was when my mother and Jordan came back, and I had a feeling Brandon wouldn’t appreciate me trying to get more out of him with an audience. It was a start, though. Maybe he’d eventually trust me enough to tell me what was really going on with him, and why he’d pushed me away so completely for so long.

“Brandon,” Mom said, sounding relieved. “I’m so glad they found you. They told me they had, but….”

“I had to wait until we were done for the day to come up,” Brandon told her. “There are some things you can’t skip out on.”

“Of course not,” she said in reply, sounding surprised her oldest son would think she’d expect such a thing from him. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” I said quietly. I didn’t think I said it loud enough for anyone to hear, but Brandon gave me a hint of a smile.

“Zach?” I looked up, and Tate was there again. “They’ve moved Marcus to a room. He’s gone back to sleep, but if you’d like to join him….”

“Yes,” I said. “Please.”

He nodded and looked at the others. “You can come with us, if you’d like, but he’ll need the room quiet for a while.”

“Of course,” my mother said. She gestured for Tate to lead the way.

They pushed me down a few more halls and into a room. I looked at the sole occupant, and had to muffle a cry when I saw just how badly Marcus had been mauled.

“Jesus,” Jordan whispered. “He looks like an elephant tap-danced on his face.”

I would have laughed if it weren’t so true. Marcus was black and blue all over. His right arm was in a cast, and I could actually see where he’d struck his head against the steering wheel, the bruise was that clear.

Once Tate had me next to the bed, I hopped out of the wheelchair and took a seat. “My poor baby,” I whispered. I scooted as close as I dared and took Marcus’s left hand. “Jordan’s right. You look pretty rough.”

“I’m going to go call your father,” Mom said softly. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Sure,” I said. “You can go home and get some more sleep, if you’d like. I’ll be okay here.” She looked exhausted, though I knew she’d never admit to being tired. I imagined I didn’t look much better.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Brandon agreed. “Come on, Mom. I’m pretty tired too, so why don’t I follow you home?”

“If you’re sure,” she said, looking at me.

“I’m sure,” I told her. “I doubt I’ll be leaving here any time soon, so it’s not like I’ll need a ride while you’re gone.” I looked at Jordan and gave him a half smile. “You can go too, if you want.”

Jordan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”

“I keep telling you, that would be kind of incest-y.”

“And on that note,” Brandon said, making a face. “Call us if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” I promised and my gaze settled on Marcus again. “But all I really need right now is for Marcus to wake up.”

“He’s just sleeping, which is totally normal after surgery. It’ll be okay,” Brandon said and gave my shoulder a squeeze. Mom leaned the crutches within arm’s reach of the bed.

I didn’t watch them go. I was too busy staring at Marcus.

“It really will be all right,” Jordan told me.

“You can’t promise that,” I said with a sigh. “But I’m more than a little grateful he’s at least still alive for me to worry about. All we can do is keep our fingers crossed. Did I tell you that his sister was in the car with him? She basically got some bruises, but otherwise walked away.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You don’t think she had something to do with this, do you?”

“Dunno,” I said with a shrug. “I mean, yeah, it crossed my mind, but Marcus was pissed enough about things I said earlier that I really don’t want to speculate without proof.”

“Can’t really blame you for that,” he agreed. “I think I’m going to go get something with caffeine in it. Want anything?”

“Yeah, would you bring me a ginger ale?” I asked, focusing on Marcus again. Maybe the soda would help settle my still-uneasy stomach.

Once I heard Jordan leave, I carefully brought my boyfriend’s hand to my lips and placed a gentle kiss on it. “Wake up for me soon, gorgeous. I miss you.”

S
LEEPING
ON
the chair next to my boyfriend’s hospital bed wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. Tate had brought in a second chair so I could prop up my injured ankle, which helped, but I woke up and panicked that something was wrong whenever one of the nurses came in to check on Marcus. After a few seconds, I’d realize I was still holding Marcus’s hand, and I’d calm down.

I dozed. I waited for Marcus to wake up. I dealt with a steady rotation of people coming by to see if I needed anything. Jordan had gone home to get some sleep before he had to deal with work. Since then nearly every one of my coworkers had come by, a few at a time. Gloria came by to check on Marcus and brought food with her, since she was positive I hadn’t eaten. Not even pancakes could tempt me, though. I had no appetite and no desire to do anything beyond hold my boyfriend’s hand and stare at the television in his room while I waited for him to wake up.

“Should he still be sleeping?” I asked Tate when it was his turn to come in and check on Marcus.

“It’s to be expected,” Tate assured me. “His body’s been through a lot, and anesthesia has a tendency to make people groggy afterward. Besides, he’s only been asleep for four hours.”

I wished someone had warned me about that hours before, when I was first brought into the room. Maybe I would have worried less. Or maybe they had. God knew I’d soaked in absolutely nothing that day. “I don’t suppose it’s a good idea to just reach over and shake him awake, huh?”

“He’ll wake up soon, I’m sure,” Tate said. “And he’ll be thrilled to see you here when he opens his eyes.”

I nodded and sighed as I did. “I just want to hear his voice so he can tell me he’s going to be fine, you know?”

Tate chuckled, and I turned to look at him. “The man’s been through hell. It’s more likely he’d tell you he feels like shit.”

He was probably right, but I just shrugged. “Still….”

“Yeah, I know,” Tate said. “Hang in there.”

He finished checking on Marcus and left me alone with him again. I’d just started to doze off when I heard someone else enter. I was starting to think it was some kind of plot to keep me from getting any sleep. I looked up to see it was Brandon.

“Not awake yet, huh?”

“No, and neither am I,” I snorted. “These chairs are fucking uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “It’s to keep people from wanting to stay, I think. Have you eaten?”

“Like I can stomach food right now,” I said with a snort. I waved at the Styrofoam container holding the food Gloria tried to get me to eat earlier. “One of Marcus’s coworkers brought me breakfast. Want some?”

“Maybe,” Brandon answered. “Let me go find another chair first.”

He was back quicker than I thought he’d be. He pulled his chair up next to me, and I handed over the container. “Here. Enjoy.”

“Oh, nice,” he said cheerfully when he saw what was inside. “Pancakes. You sure you don’t want them?”

“No appetite,” I said with a shrug. “Too worried. You know.” I paused, bit my lower lip, then blurted out the question that had been at the edge of my mind since he comforted me when I was sitting in the waiting room. “What did I do to make you hate me?”

I expected some sort of reaction, but I didn’t expect Bran to choke on the bite of food he’d just started chewing. I poured him a glass of water from the small pitcher on the table next to Marcus’s bed. Once he was able to breathe again, I gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry. I swear I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

He snorted a laugh and shook his head. Then sadness took over his face. “You didn’t do anything,” he told me. “It wasn’t your fault at all. It was mine.”

I took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it out. “I think we need to talk.”

“I think you’re right,” Brandon agreed. “It’s past time for it.” He popped another bite of food into his mouth, looking more forlorn than I’d ever seen him.

“Is this about Roddie?” I asked him. No point in dancing around the issue, and I had a right to know.

“Yeah, but not like you think,” Brandon said quietly.

“I really didn’t hit on him,” I explained. “He just grabbed me and….” I shuddered at the memory and couldn’t even finish.

Brandon surprised me by reaching over and taking my hand in his. “I believe you,” he said, not looking at me. “I always did. I just didn’t want to.”

I stared at him in silence as he continued to eat, and realization dawned on me. “Oh my God,” I whispered. “You were in love with him.”

Brandon swallowed hard and, still staring at the food in front of him, gave a small nod.

“You’re gay? You?” I was completely taken aback. I had no idea Brandon was interested in guys, not that it was really any of my business. It simply surprised me that it wasn’t general knowledge in our family. God knew our parents had been supportive when I came out. They wouldn’t have been any less supportive for him.

“Do we have to put a label on it?” Brandon asked, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

“Of course not,” I said immediately, shaking my head. “No labels. I’m just surprised that I didn’t know you were attracted to guys.”

“No one knows,” Brandon mumbled.

I thought about the conversation I’d had with our mother on the day they’d put together Marcus’s furniture. “I think you’re wrong. I think Mom’s figured it out.”

“Yeah. Well, Mom’s got that weird psychic mom ability,” Brandon said, rolling his eyes. “The same ability that got us in trouble when we’d been looking for hidden Christmas gifts.”