Against the Wall

by Alexa Land

  Today was an absolutely wonderful day. I’d gotten to be best man and watch my best friend marry the love of his life, and I was spending Valentine’s Day with the man of my dreams and my closest friends. What could be better? I picked up Shea’s hand and smiled at him, then led him out into the sunshine.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  June.

  “Hell no. Tell him to leave.”

  I sighed in frustration and pushed my hair back from my face. “No, Dad. He’s not leaving. You sent him away the first four times, but this time it’s for real. Gianni’s taking over for me, starting today. Shea and I are on our way to Palo Alto because the clinical trial starts this afternoon. You know this!”

  “Why can’t Skye bring me groceries until you’re done with the drug study? It’s just for eight weeks.”

  “He and Dare are leaving on their belated honeymoon tomorrow, now that Skye graduated.”

  “Did he finish his sculptures in time?” Zan asked, fidgeting with the drink in his hand.

  “Quit stalling.”

  “I’m not. I really want to know!”

  “Yes, he finished. He got the last pieces on the day before he had to turn them in.”

  “I want to see. Surely you took pictures.”

  I rolled my eyes, then shot Shea a look. He was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “Could you show him please, even if he is just stalling?”

  Shea grinned a little, pushed off the counter, and crossed the room to Zan. He took out his phone and flipped through a few screens before handing it over. Skye really had done an amazing job on the three dancing figures. It was his best work, no doubt about it. He’d then floored me by asking if they could find a home in the big music room in the art center. I told my dad this, and he beamed at me. “Perfect. Music and dance were always meant to go together. What’s going on with Zane, by the way? Did you get that scheduling conflict ironed out?”

  I’d ended up calling it The Zane Center for Art and Music, but most people just called it Zane. That name had always represented both Zan and me, so I was happy with my choice. I told my dad, “I didn’t have to get the conflict ironed out. Hillary did it. That’s why I hired her, to run things for me.”

  Over the last few months, I’d conducted countless interviews and hired a great administrative staff and teachers (funded by an insanely generous grant from my father), and brought in scores of volunteers. I worked closely with Sutherlin, recruiting students and alumni to develop and teach classes, and a local symphony orchestra to build the music program. To make sure it wasn’t too stodgy, I’d also found a local rock band whose members were friends of Jessie’s, and they taught music classes as well. Those classes had the longest waiting lists.

  Student turnout had exceeded all my expectations. Skye and Dare volunteered to go around to every grade school in San Francisco, Berkeley and Oakland to do art demonstrations and hand out fliers. The day doors opened for enrollment (which was free, of course), over three hundred and fifty kids and their parents lined the sidewalk.

  That was when I knew Zane was going to be a shining success. It had gone from an empty building to a community. I was incredibly proud of what I’d begun, and I just knew it was going to flourish well into the future.

  A door banged open. “Enough already!” That came from down the hall. I could hear Gianni stomping toward us. Suddenly he appeared in the doorway, looking more than a little flustered. “I’m out there getting heat stroke and fending off yellow jackets! Yellow jackets! This is ridiculous! I’m not going to let that man send me back to the city again without so much as meeting me!”

  Zan glared at the intruder. “There. I’ve met you. Now bugger off, I was talking to my son!”

  Gianni put his hands on his hips and squared off against my father. “Your son needs to be at the other end of the Bay Area in just a couple hours. It’s time to face the facts, dude. Christian and Shea will still come for visits, but you’re stuck with me for the rest of it.”

  Zan turned to me and said, “Dude? You found someone who calls me dude? And I’m supposed to trust this person to buy me food?”

  “You only eat five things,” Gianni snapped. “It’s not that hard.”

  My dad ran his gaze up and down his new caretaker. “He looks like a rich, spoiled party boy. What are his qualifications?”

  Gianni raised a dark eyebrow at him. “For buying groceries? Seriously?”

  “I hate to butt in,” Shea said, “but we really do need to get on the road. We’re going to be late for check-in.”

  “Dad, stop being an ass and come here and say goodbye to me,” I told him, holding my arms up. I’d been in a wheelchair for about six weeks. It was such a basic thing, just putting one foot in front of the other, so when my coordination failed and I became unable to do that it was a shock. All I could do was deal with it though, with Shea’s help.

  My father sighed and crossed the room to me, then clutched me in a tight embrace. “I love you, boyo. Now remember what you promised.”

  “We remember. Shea will call you every single day and let you know how I’m doing.” We’d made the same promise to my mom, who we’d visited that morning. We’d been meeting her and my stepdad once a week for lunch over the past few months, and all of us had grown closer. She’d been in tears this morning, but it seemed like my stepdad was going to be a good source of support for her. He was doing well with his sobriety and I was glad he’d gotten it together in time to help her through what was going to be a difficult few months, both during the drug trial and beyond.

  “Sure you don’t want to back out?” Zan asked.

  “This is important, Dad. I’ve told you why I need to do this.”

  “I know. I’m just worried.”

  I kissed his cheek. “When the eight weeks are up, we’ll come see you right away. I won’t be allowed to go anywhere until then.” He nodded, still holding me tightly. “Give Gianni a chance. Please? You need him and he needs this job.”

  Zan straightened up and ran his thumb underneath his lower lashes. “Why? What happened to his last job?” When I broke eye contact, he asked, “He has had a job before, right?”

  “Well, no. But he did complete nearly three semesters of nursing school,” I said.

  “Oh, nearly three semesters, brilliant! And no job ever! Well, with qualifications like that, surely I’m in good hands!” My dad’s accent ramped up with his temper.

  “I know why you’re really upset, Dad, but this is going to be okay.”

  “You don’t know that. You don’t know if it’s going to be okay.” He turned to Shea. “Don’t let them hurt my boy. Please, laddie? You’ll look out for him, won’t you?”

  “I’m going to do everything I can for him, Zan,” my boyfriend promised.

  When we finally said our goodbyes and Shea wheeled me down the long hallway to the side door, I could hear Zan and Gianni bickering again and smiled. It was going pretty well. My dad was staying and engaging instead of locking himself in the bathroom. That was what he’d done the last four times we’d brought his new caretaker to meet him.

  Shea steered me around Gianni’s white BMW, the wheels of the chair crunching over the gravel. When we got to the Jeep, he swung the passenger door open and lifted me effortlessly. Just like every time, he paused to kiss me and rub his cheek against mine before putting me in the car and fastening my seatbelt.

  The bright June sunlight didn’t do much for my migraine, and I squinted as I fumbled to get my sunglasses into place. Shea helped me, guiding my hands gently. My doctor had cut my meds back to just the essentials in order to get me ready for the clinical trial. Without the large doses of pain killer I’d been relying on, migraines were now a fact of life. I tried not to let the pain show as I gave Shea a smile. He always knew though, there was no fooling him. He cupped my face between his hands and whispered, “You’re the bravest person I know, Christian,” before kissing me again.

  We were both quie
t on the long drive from Marin to Palo Alto, his fingers laced with mine on top of the stick shift. The trials were going to be occurring at an offshoot of Stanford Medical Center. Since the researchers were trying to control as many variables as possible, right down to diet and exercise, I’d be living on-site in what was basically a cross between a miniature hospital and a dormitory. Shea had rented a small apartment nearby. I’d only be allowed to see him during visiting hours every afternoon, between lunch and dinnertime. It was going to break my heart to be away from him. We’d become completely inseparable over the last few months. He’d even taken a leave of absence from his job and devoted himself to my care.

  When we reached the medical center, Shea held me for a long time when he lifted me out of the car, his face pressed into the space between my neck and shoulder. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, but we both knew I had no idea what these next few weeks would have in store for me. Instead, I told him I loved him again and kissed his hair as I held him tightly.

  When he wheeled me into the lobby, I burst into tears. My friends were waiting for me. I’d said ‘goodbye for now’ to all of them over the last couple days, but they’d decided to come down for a final send-off.

  Chance reached me first, grabbing me in a hug before pressing a little, worn teddy bear into my hand. “The bear’s just a loan. Bobo got me through some hard times as a kid. He’ll help you through the next few weeks.” He slipped a stretchy bracelet lined with amber beads on my left wrist and explained, “This is to keep. They’re called worry beads. In Greek culture, some people believe they guard against bad luck. They also help you pass the time or relax. Usually you hold them, but I knew that’d be tough so I made them into a bracelet for you.”

  I ran my right hand over them and said, “Thank you, Chance. That was incredibly thoughtful.”

  All of them had something for me. Trevor and Vincent had brought me an accessible iPod set up to accept voice commands, loaded with music and audiobooks. Skye and Dare had brought an orchid (so I’d have something pretty to focus on, they said), and a thick, fuzzy robe and slippers. They also passed along a gift from Zandra, a frame containing several pictures of me with my friends. Nana stepped forward, slipped an engraved silver flask in my pocket and gave me a big wink. I wouldn’t actually be able to drink alcohol while the study was going on, but I thanked her graciously.

  Suddenly, Shea’s brother burst through the doors. “Oh good, glad I didn’t miss you,” Finn said, catching his breath. He thrust a package into my hands and said embarrassedly, “Look, it’s no secret I’ve had my doubts about you, but I think you’re doing a pretty cool thing here, Christian. So, um, I brought you copies of some of my brother’s favorite comic books. I thought they might help you pass the time. I know if it was me, I’d go pretty stir-crazy stuck in here. Also, you know, this way you’ll be able to see some of what makes Shea, Shea.” He seemed to run out of steam then and stepped back, looking embarrassed. “Anyway, good luck.” His brother grabbed him in a hug.

  A man with an ID card clipped to his shirt pocket came into the lobby with two nurses and said, “Welcome! All participants in the Sangene study, please follow me for orientation.”

  “Well, this is it,” I said, turning to my boyfriend. I stood up carefully and took him in my arms.

  “See you in forty-four hours, sweetheart.” That was when visiting hours would begin.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I’m settled in my room,” I told him, and he kissed me. “I love you, Shea.” My voice broke a little.

  He rubbed his cheek against mine and told me, “I love you too, Christian, with all my heart.” I had to force myself to let go of him. When I sat down again he picked up my duffle bag and put it in my lap, along with all my presents.

  A red-haired nurse of about forty came up to me with a friendly smile and gestured at my chair. “Want me to give you a hand?”

  “Thanks, that’d be great.”

  I turned to say goodbye to my friends, and they swooped in for one more round of hugging, kissing and well-wishing before I was wheeled through the double doors. As we followed the group of about twenty people making their way past a series of offices, she said, “That was quite a send-off. You’re lucky to have such good friends.”

  “I really am.”

  *****

  What followed were eight of the toughest weeks of my life. I spent the first two violently ill. The drug-induced nausea was compounded by my intense headaches. I lost a lot of weight and became weak because I couldn’t keep anything down. My doctor nearly pulled me from the study group, but finally the nausea dialed back. Once I could eat, I started to rebuild my strength. The headaches remained so bad that I spent a big part of each day in my little room with the lights off and an icepack on my forehead.

  My friends came to see me, but soon realized I needed my daily visiting hours to be all about Shea, so they switched to texting and writing instead. Skye got in the habit of writing long, hilarious letters with lots of illustrations. I got at least three a week. One of the nurses, a middle-aged father of three named Alonzo, always offered to help me with the texts and letters because he said my friends were a riot.

  Their gifts were such a comfort. I spent a lot of time wrapped in that thick robe, an arm curled around Chance’s little bear with my dad’s and Shea’s pendants in one hand and the worry beads in the other, eyes focused on the white orchid or on the photos in the frame on my nightstand. On days when I felt well enough, I’d play music, listen to an audiobook or read a comic and that helped pass the time, too.

  All of that was wonderful and helped keep my spirits up, but Shea was what really got me through those two months in Palo Alto. He was right there, every single day, from the minute visiting hours began until they kicked him out when they were over. He’d give me updates on Zan (doing fine though constantly feuding with Gianni) and the art center (running like clockwork) and our friends. When things were really bad, he’d reassure me and kiss my tear-streaked cheeks. Sometimes, he’d softly sing my dad’s songs to me, rocking me gently when nothing else would soothe me.

  Most importantly, he held me, and that was the best thing in the world. We’d spend most of the handful of hours we were allotted each day with me on his lap in the green upholstered chair in a corner of my little room, arms wrapped around each other. That more than anything kept me going when the pain and nausea wore me down to almost nothing. No matter how bad things got, I had that time with Shea to look forward to.

  Even though I knew he was worried, whenever we were together he was calm, reassuring and positive. He was my strength when I couldn’t find my own. I loved him like I’d never loved anything or anyone, more than I ever realized it was possible to love someone. The love he gave me in return was the most beautiful, amazing gift, pure and true and steadfast. I was so incredibly thankful for it, and for him.

  I tried to tell him how much he meant to me and how grateful I was for him. Words completely failed me. Just saying ‘I love you’ didn’t begin to cover it. But maybe Shea knew anyway, in that way he had of always knowing what was going on with me. I really hoped he did.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  August.

  Those eight weeks eventually passed. The trials ended with a whole battery of tests. I’d had blood drawn and CAT scans and MRIs at the start of the test period. All of that was repeated at the end, with follow-ups scheduled every two weeks for the next three months.

  The day of my release, we went directly to Doctor Halpern’s office for a scheduled appointment. The tests were repeated since he wouldn’t have access to the data collected by the drug company. He ramped up all my meds again, administering a dose of narcotic pain relievers while I was still in the office, though he warned me that eventually my headaches would stop responding to the pain pills as the tumor spread. For now though, they took the edge off and made it bearable.

  When we finally got home, my boyfriend carried me straight to our bed and we made love urgently.
I couldn’t get enough of him, my mouth tasting his as Shea’s cock filled me, my hands clutching his body to mine. I had no idea how I’d survived for two months without feeling his skin on mine and the reassuring weight of him on top of me. Once he came, he eased my cock into him and rode me until I came too, crying out, hugging him to me with the last of my strength.

  We stayed in bed the rest of the day, even eating dinner there (pizza, which I’d sorely missed). In the morning, he rushed out and bought groceries, then made me a big breakfast. I didn’t have much appetite but with Shea’s coaxing, I ate what I could.

  Once we both got cleaned up, we went to visit my dad. He was thrilled to see me. After I told him all about the last few weeks and assured him I was okay, the complaints started. “That Dombruso blighter is going to be the death of me,” Zan ranted. “He’s the most stubborn little shit I’ve ever met! And such a prima donna! Everything has to be his way. Please tell me you and Shea will take over for him now that the clinical trial is over.”

  “We really can’t do that, Dad. Shea already has so much on his plate trying to take care of me and you know I’m just going to keep getting worse. We’ll still visit you of course, but Gianni has proven that he’s reliable so he’ll keep bringing you the things you need.” That, of course, resulted in a lot more grumbling.

  We spent most of the day with my dad, then went to visit my mom and stepdad before meeting our friends for dinner at Nolan’s, Jamie and Dmitri’s bar and grill. Skye brought along his laptop and set it up on the table so our friend Zandra could Skype with us from L.A.

  When Chance arrived, he kissed my cheek and I returned his bear to him. “Thank you, he really helped. So did these,” I said, indicating the beads I still wore on my wrist.