Dance With Destiny

by Sloan Johnson

  Andrew’s apologized to me repeatedly, offering to cover any hospital expenses, because he’s so torn up that this happened at all. Never mind the fact that I’m the dumbass who got on a four-wheeler without knowing it was in good condition. Now that there’s a plan in place for getting me out of this bed, and hopefully someday out of the wheelchair, I’m more worried about the guilt plaguing him.

  “Dominic is the one who will be providing oversight since he’s the one who will be standing next to me every step of the way,” I say smugly. “And in case that’s not enough, Andrew and Cara are going to split their time between the city and their vacation home up here. I will have plenty of people who sincerely care about me to make sure the doctors do everything they can. And guess what… Even with all of that I might never walk again. And that’s okay because those who matter will be there for me whether I’m walking on two legs or wheeling up in a kickass chair.”

  “You ungrateful son of a--”

  “That’s enough!” Andrew’s booming voice commands everyone’s attention. “Robert, your son is a grown man. The two of you don’t see eye to eye on many things, but it’s time you let him make the choices in his own life. Cara and I will stand by whatever he and Dominic decide is best for his recovery.”

  “Fine,” my father huffs, tossing a stack of pamphlets onto the end of the bed. “But if he thinks he’s getting a dime out of me, he’s delusional. His mother and I have tried to do right by him for twenty-nine years and it’s time I wash my hands of him.”

  He grabs my mother’s arm, not allowing her time to say goodbye before he’s out the door. The next time I see him by my choice will be the day they bury him in the ground and I have the pleasure of pissing on his grave. And just to spite him, I have every intention of walking my happy ass through the cemetery to do so.

  “How are you feeling?” Cara asks as she gingerly lowers herself into the chair. If it’s possible, she looks bigger now than she did less than a week ago when we stepped off the plane.

  “Well, let’s see…” I scrub the annoying stubble on my chin in contemplation. “I have more hardware in me than a Home Depot, I probably won’t ever walk again, I get to wear a plastic brace that covers my chest and back for the foreseeable future, my social calendar will be filled with physical therapy every day and I’m pretty sure I was just disowned by my parents. All-in-all, I can’t complain.”

  Andrew cackles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are an odd man, you know that? But it’s good to see you aren’t letting shit get you down.”

  “Nah, I somehow made it to this side when I shouldn’t have.” The doctors said I might not remember the accident, but that’s a damned lie. Every time I close my eyes, I relive every moment, every jolt and tumble, waking the moment I look up the hill and realize that I’m directly in the path of seven hundred pounds of metal and plastic. If I didn’t remember, it might be easier for me to wallow in self-pity. “The only things that upset me are the fact that my career is in the shitter and I won’t be able to dance with Dom at our wedding.”

  And the unspoken fear is even worse: that Dom will realize this is too much work for him and he’ll bail.

  “Thanks for meeting with me.” My dad sits across the table from me in the hospital cafeteria. He stopped by the night after Tony’s surgery, asking me to give him a call when I was ready to talk. At the time, I wanted so much to clear the air with him, but the petty side of my brain needed to make him sweat a bit.

  For over a decade, my father and I have drifted further and further apart because I refused to admit that my sexuality was a phase. We both said plenty of hateful words, but mine were in defense of myself and my life.

  “I figured it was the least I could do after you put Tony’s dad in his place the way you did.” I offer my father a crooked grin. “Were you really watching us?”

  “Every chance I got,” he confesses. “I ducked into a corner when I saw you come in. I wanted to run to you and ask what was going on, but I figured I was the last person you’d want to see since you didn’t come home for Christmas.”

  “About that…” My dad and I have never talked about Brandon because he was part of that part of my life, but my father and sister are two people who need to know.

  “Son, you don’t have to say anything. Looking back, I’m surprised you didn’t cut me off years ago,” he says solemnly. “I was an ass to you and you didn’t deserve that. Seeing what you have with that young man, I can’t blame you for standing me up to be with him.”

  “Dad, it’s not like that.” Rain pelts the window next to us. With the exception of this morning, it’s been raining non-stop for three days now and I’m ready for more than a brief reprieve from the gloom. Somehow, all of this would be a little easier to bear if it was sunny. “I actually ran away from him, too, but I’m not sure you want to hear the details.”

  “I want to hear whatever you’re willing to share. I’m done with work, and unless I’m mistaken, the dictator and his wife are upstairs with your special man right now, so we have time.” My dad really has been tracking my movements through the hospital. I wonder if anyone knows that I’m his son. If they don’t, it’s because they haven’t looked at the striking similarities. I’d imagine I will look nearly identical to how he does now in twenty years. My dad leans back in his chair, cradling his coffee cup the same way I am.

  For the next two hours, I tell my dad things I’ve held in for years. He stiffens when I admit that Brandon was more than a friend and that we moved to Rhode Island together to be together. He apologizes for being a prick to me when I withdrew from everyone after Brandon’s death.

  When he says he’s proud of me for getting Pinnacle off the ground, my chest swells. Four simple little words that I didn’t realize I needed to hear mean everything to me. He’s also eager to listen when I tell him about the company we’re looking to buy out that brought us to Rochester for the weekend from hell.

  By the time I have to go back to Tony’s room, my father knows everything there is to know about my life. “Look, Dom… I know we’ve had our issues, but if you want you’re more than welcome to stay at the house.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I may take you up on that.” He hugs me tightly and I’m sure we’re drawing attention to ourselves, but I don’t care. I finally have my father back in my life and Tony’s prognosis is good. Nothing could get me down today. “Hey, would you like to meet Tony so you’re not a creepy stalker?”

  My dad runs his fingers along the collar of his uniform shirt. It’s amusing to see him struggling to keep his nerves in check. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m sure you’ve said some less than stellar things to him about me and I’d hate to cause any more drama than that boy likely deals with every time his family comes in.”

  “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just figured I’d introduce you to the man I’m going to marry as soon as he’s able.” My father goes white as a ghost, but manages to keep from passing out. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone so far, but I’m pretty sure Cara said as much the other day in the hall. And I’m not going to hide any piece of my relationship with Tony from anyone. They can either deal with us or not. Their choice.

  “Marry, huh?” Dad scratches his chin. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but wow. I tell you what… I need to run to the house and change. Give me about an hour and I’ll be back up. Out of curiosity, does your sister know about any of this?”

  Rach does know that I moved in with Tony, but I haven’t talked to her in over a month. I need to find time to call her. “Uh, no. I’ll call her tomorrow when I’m banished from the room.”

  “Do you want me to bring her back with me? She came home last week and I might have told her about what’s going on.” Dad kicks at the leg of the chair, avoiding my gaze. I’m not sure how I feel about him talking to Rachael about Tony, but it does prove to me that he sincerely sees that I’m happier now than ever before. “Look, Dominic, please don’t be mad. At first, I tried to keep my mouth
shut, but you know how she can be. She pressed and pressed until I told her about the day Tony came in. Then, after meeting his sad excuse for parents, I needed someone to talk to. I think I was hoping she’d tell me I had been a piece of shit to you, but she didn’t. Now, she asks me every day how you two are doing. The only reason she hasn’t called is because then you’d know that I told her.”

  Wow. Talk about information overload. This isn’t the family I grew up in. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’ll give Tony a heads up so he’s not quite so shocked.”

  I walk my dad to the front lobby and say goodbye, watching him dash through the parking lot before I make my way up to Tony’s room. My body wanders the halls by memory, giving me time for my mind to process everything Dad and I talked about. For the first time in years, I’m hopeful that my relationship with my birth family can be repaired.

  “April, where did you go?” I can hear Tony’s voice the moment I step off the elevator. As I jog down the hall, freaking out that something’s very wrong, I hear him calling for April again, this time drawing out each word to be several syllables long. I pick up my pace to a sprint. When I walk into the room, Tony’s face breaks into a brilliant smile. “April, I missed you!” he squeals.

  I turn to look behind me and scratch my head when I see no one else in the area. “Baby, is everything okay?” As soon as I reach him, I start taking stock of every injury, every cut, trying to figure out what’s going on.

  Tony’s head lolls to the side. “I’m not a baby, I’m a turtle,” he protests. A turtle? “You can call me Donatello.” He laughs hard enough that it causes him to wince from the pain.

  If I didn’t know that the hospital has strict dosing procedures, I’d worry that he’s taken far too many pain pills. “Donatello?” I question, taking the seat next to him.

  “Yep, I have turtle power,” he informs me in a mock whisper. His face has turned serious, which only makes it harder for me to keep a straight face.

  “If we’re going to use turtle names, shouldn’t I be Donatello?” I ask, deciding it’s easier to play along than argue with him. Tony’s entire face contorts in confusion as if I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing ever. “Oh, come on it’s not that much of a stretch since my name is Dom.”

  “No, that’s stupid,” he responds. “You’re not a turtle. You don’t have a half shell. You don’t get a turtle name. I’m the one with the shell so I get the name.”

  Tony’s eyelids get heavy and I sit back, waiting for him to go to sleep. It amazes me that he’s the one cracking jokes while the rest of us worry about how he’s going to handle all the ways his life is going to change.

  “Hey, you okay?” Tony asks when he wakes up. I consider asking if he remembers his little episode from earlier, but file it away. I’d much rather hang onto that golden morsel for some day long after he’s out of the hospital. Preferably once he’s healed enough that I can tease him mercilessly about all the goofy things he’s done while doped up.

  “Long day,” I admit. I scoot my chair closer to Tony’s bed, running my hands along his arm. “How about you?”

  “Told my parents off today. You won’t have to run and hide anymore.” I lay my head on the side of the mattress so Tony can run his fingers through my hair. He has good upper body mobility, but any sort of stretching hurts, so I wind up spending part of every day nuzzling his hand like a lap dog. “What’s going on, Dom? Something’s bugging you.”

  Without lifting my head, I fill in the blanks regarding my dad. He keeps stroking my hair as I release the mess of emotions I’ve bottled up for the past few days. He’s the one stuck in a hospital bed, but he’s still comforting me. And to think I almost turned my back on all of this before it even started.

  “He’s going to come up here tonight to meet you,” I tell him when silence lingers between us. “He’ll probably bring my sister with him.”

  Tony doesn’t flinch at the news. The timing could have been better, but I’m holding out hope that my dad will stay true to his word and work on accepting Tony into his life because if I have my way, there won’t be another day of my life that Tony’s not part of mine.

  “They finally got sick of your scrawny ass, huh?” Kennedy bursts into my hospital room with her arms overflowing with clothes and a pair of shiny black loafers. “Probably sick of watching you lay around all day in your sweats. You look like shit, buddy!”

  “Love you too,” I laugh, flipping her the bird. Dahlia pokes her head around the corner, making sure I’m not naked before she comes over to give me a peck on the cheek.

  It’s been one hell of a long road, but it’s good to finally be saying goodbye to my deluxe accommodations provided courtesy of the University of Rochester. I’ll still be collecting frequent flyer miles, but after today, I’ll be putting up with Dom’s driving every morning and afternoon. I only hope I survive that as well as I did the accident.

  “The doctor already signed the paperwork, so hurry it up or we’ll be late.” One of the nurses comes into the room to see if I need any help getting dressed. I’m doing fairly well at this point, but nothing ever seems to go the way I want it to so I let her help me one last time. Today is not the day for me to be stubborn because I’ll likely wind up a rumpled mess.

  James, Dom’s dad, raps his knuckles on the doorframe before joining our little party. Over the past month, we’ve gotten pretty close. At first, it was bonding over what an asshole my father is and later, over what an amazing man I’m going to marry.

  My stomach does a flip as that thought crosses my mind. After the accident, I wasn’t sure there would be a wedding. Following a particularly rough day of physical therapy, the type of day where nothing went right, I yelled at Dom to go home. After he did, I broke down and cried like a little bitch.

  “You don’t have to stick around because you feel sorry for me, so just go,” I yell, wheeling down the hall to get away from Dom’s sad eyes. “Hell, if I could, I’d run away from me. It’s not fair of me to expect you to deal with all of this. It’s not what you thought you were getting into and there are no guarantees I’ll ever get better.”

  “Not with that attitude you won’t,” Dom hollers through the corridor. The nurses don’t even bat an eye when we bicker this way.

  I’m already in my room, struggling to transfer into my bed when Dom storms into the room. His face is red and the tendons in his neck are bulging. It seems I’ve finally pushed him to his breaking point.

  “You absolutely right, Tony,” he bites out, stalking across the room to stand over me. “I didn’t sign up for this shit, but neither did you. Tell me something, would you leave me if I was the one in that chair?”

  “Of course not,” I say, offended that he’d think such a thing. “When I asked you to marry me, I knew that meant better, worse, sickness, health, blah, blah, blah,” I stammer, waving my hands in the air like a lunatic.

  “Then why in the world do you think I’d do that to you?” He leans over, gripping the bed rails tightly. “You think I didn’t know all of that shit?”

  “Dom, it’s been a shitty day. Just…go home. I think we need some time apart right now.” The words cut me to the quick, but I refuse to take them back. Every day Dom spends up here with me creates a chasm between us. I miss being able to hold him while we sleep. When I’m not reliving the accident, I’m dreaming about our first night in the house, when I told Dom that I loved him. That night was the night I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving him. But now…I’m waiting for the day when it’s too much and he walks away. It may not be today or tomorrow or even this year, but I can’t stop thinking it’ll happen.

  “Tony, I love you, but I’m not going to be your punching bag.” A tear trails down Dom’s cheek and I hate myself for hurting him. “I’m going to leave before either of us say anything else we can’t take back.”

  “I love you,” I whisper as Dom’s back disappears around the corner.

  “Hey, they have you drugged up today?” James
asks. He kneels in front of me, tying my shoes the way a father does for their child. I miss being able to tie my shoes without the bow winding up on the side from having to do it sideways.

  “Huh?”

  “You got spacy there for a minute. What’s going on?” Once I’m ready, James motions for me to lead the way down the hall. I look over my shoulder and see Kennedy and Dahlia carrying bouquets and balloons. While James helps me into his car, I’ve asked the girls to make a stop by the children’s ward to see if they’d like my collection.

  “Just thinking what a lucky bastard I am,” I admit as the automatic doors open. I’ve been outside plenty of times since the accident, but it’s different this time. This time, I don’t have to face going back inside to spend another night trying to sleep through the constant action on the ward. “I’ve screwed up so many times, I’m not sure I deserve this.”

  James collapses my chair, putting it in the trunk once I’m situated. “You absolutely deserve happiness,” he says. “You and Dominic, you’re good for one another. And let me tell you, my son is one of the most forgiving men I know. It took him not speaking to me for a while for me to realize what I had done by making my displeasure known. And then your silly ass went and got hurt, and it was like fate that you wound up here.”

  “You believe in all that fate and destiny crap?” I ask. I never used to think about such things, but the stars have aligned too many times in the past year for me to not believe in destiny.

  “You look me in the eye and tell me it’s crap,” James challenges me. “My son’s told me about how the two of you met. I’d say that was the first of many fated moments.”

  “Hard to argue with that,” I respond, looking out the window of the car. Dahlia and Kennedy come running out the doors and climb into the back seat.

  James eases the car onto the highway, always mindful of bumps or potholes that could jar my still tender back. The pain isn’t like it was in the beginning, but it’s still an ever-present reminder of what happened.