“I was afraid, yes. I started to feel dizzy and there was tightness in my chest. I started breathing heavy. Even with Solomon holding me I couldn’t go down the first step.” Mathieu felt the tears burning down his cheek again, “I’m back where I started.”
“But this time you know you can get down the stairs. Let’s go try something,” as she rose from the chair she took something from her bag. Mathieu followed the doctor out into the hallway where he sat next to her on the floor by the top of the stairs. “Okay, Mathieu, take several, deep breaths. Nobody is going to hurt you. You’re safe. Describe what you’re feeling.”
The artist said, “I’m a little nervous but I guess since I’m sitting down I’m not afraid because I’m not trying to go down.”
“Okay. Any dizziness or tightness?”
“No.”
“Okay. Good.” She handed him what she took from her bag. Mathieu ran his hands over the soft, burgundy leather of a bound notebook. “I want you to write down some things with every new step you take. I want you to record what step you’ve decided to take and why, what you hope to achieve with it and how it makes you feel, whether it be good or bad. Record every physical symptom you have, how long they last and how you recovered. You don’t have to limit entries to your disorder either you can write about anything. Do you think you can do that?”
“Will I have to show it to you?”
“Not unless you want too. We will have to discuss any attack symptoms you have, of course, and the events that led up to them but you can keep your personal entries personal.”
“Okay.” Mathieu liked this idea and decided to start right away. He unclipped the pen from the top where Elise had attached it and wrote the date on the first page. After that he added ‘starting again – 1st step, to get better, nervous but determined’. He shifted around to face the stairs, uncrossed his legs and dangled his ankles over the edge. The brunette took a few deep breaths, told himself that he was safe and looked back at Elise. She smiled and nodded her encouragement. He slid himself forward until his legs were most of the way over the edge then gently lowered himself down onto the first step. He reopened the book and wrote ‘successful 1st step’.
***
By the time Solomon arrived back home Mathieu was struggling. The Irishman had made it a little less than halfway down the stairs because he was afraid despite telling himself that he was safe and that Adrian was far away. After Elise left he wasn’t sure anymore what he was supposed to write in the journal so he had been writing ‘failure’ after every aborted attempt to make it to the halfway point. He had been experiencing most of his attack symptoms to some degree but he was able to calm himself by returning to his flat before he passed out. After the sixth attempt he gave up and distracted himself with work, ordering groceries, making dessert, talking to Anders and receiving a special delivery surprise for Solomon.
Solomon held him and told him that he shouldn’t punish himself for not being able to make it the whole way in one day; that what he went through was traumatic even though it didn’t seem like it at the time and he had to let himself heal. Solomon told Mathieu that he knew he could do it, that he had faith in him and that he loved him. The brunette was still depressed but he agreed to keep trying and said he’d also try to be easier on himself.
It was the first night Solomon was supposed to cook on his own so Mathieu had put all the ingredients necessary in Solomon’s kitchen to make it a little easier for him. On the menu for dinner was Balsamic Chicken with Baby Spinach. Solomon didn’t want Mathieu to watch so he sent the brunette back to his own flat to finish dessert. After a number of deep breaths and a false start or two and a glass of wine he finally began. The first step was to find all the ingredients listed on the recipe and measure them out into the required amounts. The last entry on the recipe, prepared couscous, stumped him so he ran to Mathieu’s to ask if he should make that first. The answer was yes, he should.
Once the couscous was done (according to package directions) he started on the entrée. A large sauté pan was heated over medium-high. He added olive oil and let it heat up for a minute or two before adding the chopped garlic and stirring. Solomon didn’t like the look of the garlic after a minute (it was black) so he removed the pan from the heat and ran back to Mathieu’s. Mathieu wanted to see but Solomon wouldn’t let him so the Irishman sighed and told him to start again but not to let the oil heat for too long.
Solomon returned to his kitchen and chopped three move garlic cloves, dumped the firsts batch of burned garlic and oil into the sink, washed the pan and started again. This time he only heated the oil for 30 seconds before adding the garlic but the same thing happened. He decided that garlic wasn’t really necessary for the dish, dumped the mess into the sink, washed the pan and started for the third time but skipped the garlic part (Mathieu would never know). He heated the pan, added the oil, placed the chicken in the pan and set the timer for 5 minutes. When the timer dinged he turned the chicken over and set the timer for another 5 minutes. As the time runs down he wondered how he was supposed to know if the chicken was really cooked. The recipe said that the juices should run clear so he took out a fork and stuck it into one of the chicken breasts. The juices didn’t appear to be clear to him so he added two more minutes to the time. The timer went off and he poked the other breast but the juices still didn’t appear clear. He didn’t want the chicken to burn on the one side so he flipped it over again and set the timer for another 3 minutes. The next time he pierced a breast with the fork the juices ran clear; he removed the chicken from the pan and set it aside. He put the baby spinach into the hot pan and stirred until it was wilted; he removed that from the pan and set it aside. The heat was lowered to medium and he poured in the balsamic vinegar and chicken broth scraping the bottom of the pan to remove any browned bits. The tomatoes were added the mixture was brought to a simmer and cooked for 5 minutes. Just before he plated up the food he called to Mathieu to let him know the meal was done.
When Mathieu entered Solomon’s flat he saw the blushing blonde holding out two dishes with chicken, spinach and tomatoes. “Um….isn’t there supposed to be couscous too?”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” Solomon put the plates back on the counter and spooned out some of the couscous for each of them.
As they ate Solomon watched Mathieu’s face carefully for signs. The Irishman knew he was being watched so he deliberately kept his face as neutral as possible as he told his lover about that day’s session with Elise. Finally, Solomon couldn’t take it anymore, “Well! What do you think?”
Mathieu thought the chicken was a little dry and that the garlic was suspiciously missing but he said, “I think it’s wonderful. You did a great job. Thank you.”
Solomon beamed with pride but still asked, “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“It’s fine, Solomon.”
“Only ‘fine’?”
Mathieu rolled his eyes, “It’s wonderful, spectacular, stupendous, marvelous, a work of culinary genius, a masterpiece of epic proportions.” He looked up at his partner, “Is that better?”
Solomon smirked, “You’re not funny. You’re cute but you’re not funny.”
“I think I’m very funny and very cute," he stuck his tongue out at Solomon.
With a wink Solomon replied, “I can think of something better you can do with that tongue.”
Mathieu blushed, “Let’s go to mine for dessert and I have a surprise for you and then you can show me what you want me to do with my tongue.”
“A surprise? What is it?” Mathieu's tongue was quickly forgotten.
“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise. Just bring the dirty dishes and I’ll wash them in the morning.”
“You’re so good to me.” He pulled Mathieu over for a kiss before quickly stepping back, “enough of that. I want my surprise.” The two men collected the dishes and the frying pan and head for Mathieu’s.
After the dishes were put in the sink and the frying pan was filled with
hot, soapy water to soak Solomon made grabby hands at Mathieu, “My surprise. Gimmie, gimmie.”
Mathieu raised an eyebrow at his grabby boyfriend, “Dessert and coffee first. I made mini, strawberry, cheesecakes.”
***
The dessert dishes were placed in the sink with the dinner dishes and the two were finishing their coffee in the living room when Solomon brought up his surprise again, “Now?”
“You're like a kid at Christmas but okay. Wait here.” Mathieu went into the bedroom and came out with a large package wrapped in brown paper. “I hope you like it.”
Solomon laid the package down; it was about six feet long and about two feet wide, on the dining table to unwrap it. He saw the black frame at once and as he unwrapped it further he recognized the pictures as the ones his mother sent him from New Zealand. All of the photos had been cropped so they were four by four squares instead of four by six rectangles. Most of them were laid side by side overlapping by less than one quarter of an inch and every so often one picture was set on its corner like a diamond. There were two rows of pictures which graduate in tone; the first ones being light (a dew coated spider web, clouds) the last ones being dark (lightning flashing in a dark, stormy sky). Solomon was speechless as he gaped at the pictures and the beauty of the layout.
Mathieu explained that he spent days picking out the pictures he liked the most, called a framer that Anders recommended and they discussed the best way to lay them out. “Solomon?”
“Yes, love.”
“Do you like it?”
“Like it? Mathieu, I love it. I can’t get over it. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Solomon opened his arms and Mathieu stepped into the embrace, “Thank you so much.”
“I was going to save it for your birthday but it’s so far away and you’ve helped me so much……I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
CHAPTER 16
Solomon held out the prescription bottle but Mathieu wouldn't even look at it. “Mathieu,” Solomon sighed, “please. It’s not a punishment. Elise says these will help you. You shouldn’t have the side effects you had before. And you don’t have to take them forever just a few weeks.”
Mathieu looked up at his boyfriend, tears welling up in his eyes, “They remind me that I’m a failure.”
“You’re not a failure. The set-back is not your fault. You just need a little assistance to get over this hurdle. You’ve been beating yourself up for weeks. Please, Mathieu won’t you even try?” He wanted to add ‘do it for me’ but he didn’t; Mathieu had to do it for himself. When the Irishman didn’t make a move to take the bottle Solomon tossed it onto the sofa next to him. Mathieu picked the bottle up and threw it toward the kitchen. They heard the bottle hit the floor and thankfully it didn’t pop open and spill the pills all over. “Okay,” Solomon sighed again, “If you’re not going to do anything to help yourself….If you’re just going to lie there and feel sorry for yourself…..” Solomon grabbed his keys and turned to leave, “I’m going to Anders’ for dinner. I’ll see you later.”
“That’s right leave. I always knew you would. You’re just like everybody else.”
Solomon didn’t hear those last words; he was already gone.
***
Anders found Solomon at the bar working on his third beer, “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“Mathieu and I had a little thing.”
“A thing? A fight?”
“Not quite a fight. I’d say it was a pre-fight. I left before it could escalate. Dr. Elise gave him a prescription today and he doesn’t want to take them. He’s been depressed, irritable; he’s not sleeping or eating. He hasn’t even tried to go down the stairs in days. I’m afraid he’s giving up. I couldn’t sit and watch him beat himself up tonight. Anders, what am I supposed to do?”
“You’re not supposed to do anything. You do what you feel is right. But you need to tell him how you’re feeling.”
“I shouldn’t ask this but maybe you can talk to him? He likes you. He respects you. It’s okay if you say no. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to get further involved.”
“Of course I’ll talk to him. I’ll stop by tomorrow before I come here.”
“Thanks. This is all Adrian’s fault. If he had just talked to me. Why, Anders? Why did he do it? Mathieu didn’t do anything to him.”
“You should talk to Adrian.”
“I can’t. What if Mathieu can’t bounce back from this, Anders? What if….” Solomon choked back a sob, “It’s hard sometimes.”
Anders put an arm around Solomon’s shoulders, “I know.”
***
It was late when Solomon got back to the flats. He went to enter Mathieu’s but the door was locked. It hurts but he wasn't about to let the artist get off that easy. He took out his key and unlocked the door. He removed his clothes in the bathroom leaving on his boxer-briefs before slipping into the bedroom and sliding into the bed to spoon Mathieu from behind. The brunette shifted in his hold, “Solomon?”
“Yes, love.”
“You came back,” surprise was evident in Mathieu’s voice.
Solomon kissed Mathieu’s temple, “Of course I did.”
“Why?”
“Why?” another kiss, “Because I love you.”
“But you left.”
“I didn’t leave you Mathieu. I left the apartment. I just didn’t want to argue with you. It hurts to see you this way but I’m not going anywhere. You’re not a failure. I wish you could believe that and trust that Elise knows what she’s doing and that we all only want you to get better.”
“You want me to take the pills. You don’t know what it was like the last time. I couldn’t feel anything. I won’t love you on them.” Mathieu buried his face in his pillow.
“What do you mean, Baby? Why would you stop loving me?”
The Irishman turned around to look Solomon in the eye, “I won’t feel anything.” Mathieu put his hand on his lover’s cheek, “I won’t be happy or sad. I’ll be empty. I won’t feel love. I won’t feel it for you or from you.”
“Then I’ll love you more and more. I’ll make sure you know it in your heart and in your head. I’ll tell you with words and show you with actions. I love you, Mathieu and I know you love me.” Solomon put his hand over Mathieu’s on his cheek and interlaced their fingers. “I won’t leave you. I’ll see you through this. I promise.”
After just a moments though Mathieu said, “Okay. I’ll take the pills.”
Solomon leaned forward for a quick kiss but Mathieu wouldn’t let him pull away.
Mathieu made love like he was saying ‘good-bye’. When tomorrow came nothing would be the same despite what Solomon thought. Things were going to change and not for the better. Once Solomon saw the change, felt the change he would leave. So, Mathieu said ‘good-bye’ while he could still feel something for the man he loved.
Solomon could feel the change in Mathieu and it broke his heart. He kissed away Mathieu’s tears and tried to reassure his lover with gentle touches and whispered words but nothing seemed to work. Solomon felt his lover slipping away while still in his arms. As he held his weeping lover he hoped he hadn’t made a terrible mistake in convincing him take the pills.
***
Anders had been stopping by every day since seeing Solomon in the bar the evening of the ‘pre-fight’. He had been witness to Mathieu’s changes over the last few days and he was worried. The Irishman seemed tired, uncoordinated and his speech was slightly slurred. Anders talked about the restaurant and tried to get Mathieu to laugh but the artist only smiled.
Mathieu had made it to the bottom of the stairs and sat with the door open again. He had a new sketch pad in his lap and a set of colored pencils next to him. Anders was sitting on the step behind the artist watching over his shoulder. Neither man realized there was somebody standing inside the doorway until she spoke, “Mathieu. Hello.”
Mathieu looked up, “Hello, Evelyn.”
Behi
nd the artist, Anders cleared his throat when Mathieu made no move to introduce him he did it himself, “Hi. I’m Anders, a friend.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Evelyn, Mathieu’s boss from the art department.” The woman shook Anders’ outstretched hand and returned her attention to the artist, “Mathieu, maybe we should go upstairs and talk.”
“I’m fine here.” The artist chose another colored pencil and continued shading the sketch he had been working on.
Anders could hear the lack of emotion in his young friend’s voice.
“Okay,” Evelyn continued, “I came to check on you because you’ve missed a deadline and you’re not returning my calls. Do you have the sketches for the Norton book?”
“Sure.” Mathieu handed Evelyn the sketch book, stood and climbed the stairs.
Anders watched Mathieu leave, “I’m sorry about that. He’s not himself lately.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, “So I see. He’s never missed a deadline before.”
“How much do you know about his condition?”
Evelyn stopped looking through the sketches and sat on the step Mathieu had vacated, “I know enough.”
“His doctor has put him on medication after he had a set-back. She’s going to start weaning him off of it but the side effects have taken their toll on him.”
“I’ve known Mathieu for a long time. He’s one of my most talented and valued artists. I’m glad he’s getting help again. These sketches aren’t his best; the usual spark is not present but I’ll tell the author that they’re just rough drafts. Hopefully she’ll buy it and Mathieu will be able to come back to himself in time to do the final drawings. I don’t want to rip the sketches out of the book,” she stood up, “I’ll have to go up and ask him to scan them and email them to me.”
Anders followed Evelyn up the stairs and into Mathieu’s to find him asleep on the sofa. “I’m afraid drowsiness is one of the side effects. Do you know how to operate his scanner?”
“I can probably figure it out.” She went over to Mathieu’s workstation and examined the scanner.
The Sweet Tooth Page 14