“I have to tell you, Josh, it may not be fair but it’s also not all that inaccurate. Dealing with you right nowisa bit like dealing with a petulant child.” He stared down at Joshua, his gaze flinty. “Look! I didn’t make these rules, Josh! And I don’t like them any better than you do! I’m the guy who spends his days taking care of someone who doesn’t seem tocarewhether or not they get better! I’m sick of having toforceyou to do what’s good for you! Do youwantto end up having these symptoms formonthsinstead of weeks? Do youwantto end up with seizures or any of the other side effects Casey warned you could experience if you don’t rest your mind and body? Then, fine! Have at it! I’m all done playing Officer Krupke!” He spun on his heel and strode into the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement.
After a moment Joshua heard the distinctive sound of sandpaper gliding back and forth over a wooden surface. Colin’s father had taught him woodworking when he was a boy, and over the years Colin had become a skilled craftsman. His mother still pointed with pride to birdhouses, planters, and shelves he had made as a teen. At the moment he was building a bookcase for his mother and refinishing an antique chest of drawers for his mother-in-law. His work with the wood relaxed him and reduced any anxiety or stress he might be experiencing.
Joshua listened to his husband working, feeling tears sting his eyes. He fought off a nearly overwhelming rush of self-pity and husked out a disgusted sigh.He’s right, Joshua decided.I’m acting like a spoiled brat. He deserves better.He picked up his phone and thumbed a number. “Deena?” he said. “Can you make time for me? Today if possible?”
“I wondered when you’d get around to calling me,” his therapist said, laughing. “Things not going so well?”
“And it’s all my fault,” Joshua moaned.
“Isn’t italways?” Dr. Mallory teased. “Come in at three.”
“I’ll be there,” Joshua told her. He tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rose. Wincing with guilt, he inched his way through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement where his husband was sanding the chest of drawers in a slow, rhythmic motion. Colin shot him a furious sideways glance as he entered, then went back to his silent, steady sanding.
“Can I ask a favor?” Joshua asked.
“Depends on what it is.”
“Will you drive me to Deena’s at around two-thirty? I have a three o’clock appointment.”
“Happily.”
“And will you lift your ban on the words ‘I’m sorry’ long enough for me to say I’m sorry?”
Colin’s sanding motion slowed then stopped. He reached for a nearby cloth and cleaned the sawdust from the chest’s surface, then turned to look at his husband. “I’m not the fucking villain in this piece, Josh.”
“I know that. You’re the exact opposite. You’re the hero in this story.”
Colin scoffed and tossed the cloth aside. “All evidence to the contrary.” He stood in silence beside the half-finished chest, staring down at the floor. “Why is it,” he said finally, “that every time we hit one of these snags, we end up handling it in the most asinine manner imaginable?”
“Because we’re not perfect human beings,” Joshua told him. He took Colin’s hand and laid it against his cheek. “I’m sorry I’ve been a twat. I’m pissed because this happened to me, Colin. And you’re right about me being a petulant child. I’ve been getting angrier by the day, thinking that after everything I’ve already been through in my life I shouldn’t have to deal withthis!”
“Well, it does seem a bit like overkill.”
“The universehatesme,” Joshua teased, with a sly wink.
“Yathink?”
“It’s life, Colin. Nobody gets a free ride. I’ve been feeling resentful and sorry for myself and taking it out on you, the last person on earth who deserves it.” He wrinkled his nose, screwing his face into a comical grimace.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Colin asked moving his index finger in a circle around Joshua’s face. “Screwing your face up like that?”
“A little. But worth it if it makes my point and throws some water on that Irish temper. Sorry, baby. I’ll do better.” He gestured to the chest of drawers Colin was refurbishing for his mother. “It’s beautiful.”
Colin scoffed. “Just wait ’til I’m done with it.” He took a half-step toward the stairs. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He gestured to Joshua who was in cutoff shorts and a T-shirt. “And you’d better get dressed if you’re going to see Deena.”
Later that afternoon, he dropped Joshua off at his therapist, then drove to Nau Hall where David’s office was housed. “Is he in?” he asked David’s secretary who waved him forward.
“Go on in, Colin.”
He opened the door and stuck his head into David’s office. “You got a minute?”
“Of course! Come on in? How are you, Colin? How’s Josh?”
Colin slumped into a chair facing David’s desk. “It hasn’t been going all that great.” He glanced up at his friend. “He’s seeing Deena today, thank god.”
“He’s not getting better?”
“He is in ways. The bruises are fading, and the swelling isn’t as bad. But he’s also been a brat about following Casey’s instructions. Every time I turn around, he’s on his phone or iPad, sneaking time with them like a rebellious teenager. He’s moody and depressed and flies into hysterics anytime he can’t do what he wants to do.” Colin slumped even lower in the chair and scowled at the far wall. “It’s tearing me apart inside. God, I want to see him happy again.”
