by J. M. Snyder
Was this a relationship after just one night? Don’t push this beyond what it is and enjoy the moment. He took a deep breath and girded his loins because he was going to have to face his parents and Frank and not react to Andrew at all. He’d deserve an Oscar if he could pull this off.
* * * *
Andrew stood in the lobby of the hotel a good ten minutes early. He liked being early and the first one there. It usually put him at an advantage over people who, since he was already there, considered themselves late and apologetic. It worked the same on people everywhere, even the stuffiest of officers who never liked to be outdone by those they out ranked.
The young marine knew he engendered appraising looks from men and women. He didn’t understand it really. He wasn’t classically handsome and the red hair, now slicked down and combed, made him stand out even if his broad shoulders and six-foot three-inch frame didn’t. The slightly tight and razor sharp pressed jeans clung to his thighs and butt and gave notice this man was worth your attention. The short-sleeved polo-style shirt hung from his shoulders and gathered at the waist giving his upper body a V-shape look. His arms, burnished with thick reddish/gold hair showed power in the rippling of muscle along his arms. There were reasons this man stood out but there were also reasons he wanted to fade into the darkness.
He heard Frank’s loud and rough voice before he looked up to acknowledge him. Taking a deep breath, Andrew smiled and offered his hand, knowing that Frank would try and crush his hand. Andrew was always able to return the crushing handshake so Frank would release the grip quickly. If nothing else Frank was predictable.
“Geez, am I late?”
Andrew smiled. “Not very, if at all.”
They shook hands and Andrew saw Frank cringe a bit. Andrew tried not to smile. Frank was in the same plaid sport coat Andrew had seen for as long as he has known Frank and his son, now going onto four years. Fortunately, Stephen took after his mother and only shared a loud and sometimes opinionated personality with Frank. Andrew and Stephen had come through a lot and managed to keep their friendship. Stephen had not been happy to find his best friend was gay; it was a shock and Stephen had reacted severely. They’d argued. Andrew had the feeling that Stephen had been more pissed off that Andrew had said in the heat of the moment that Stephen wasn’t his type and not to worry.
Andrew would never understand straight guys. They always thought/worried a gay man would want to jump their bones which, at least in Andrew’s case, had never happened. If he was attracted to a man, they usually were receptive and willing. Sure, he had a few curious straight men but they were willing to submit and always seemed to enjoy the experience. But Stephen? Too much baggage to be sexually attractive. And in front of Andrew was Stephen’s baggage, also known as Frank.
“So, you got lucky last night?” Frank leered more than grinned.
“Lucky isn’t the word, my friend.”
“So, was it the maid of honor, that blond one with the boobs to here?” Frank held his hands out to approximate the bustline of one of Jessie’s friends. She was a nice girl with a huge set that Andrew had viewed as unfortunate rather than seductive.
“Frank, I’ll tell you what I tell your son. I do not kiss and tell let alone fuck and tell.”
Frank roared at this and drew unwelcome looks from others in the fancy hotel lobby, “Let’s go get a beer before we meet the Kincaids. I’ll need a couple of stiff ones to get through this dinner.”
“Why? I liked Jessie’s mom and dad,” Andrew said knowing what surely was coming.
“Yeah, good people but that faggot son of theirs is coming, too. Had said yes before I knew he was coming along. Me and him didn’t get along at Thanksgiving. So, let’s get a snoot full so I can get through dinner.”
Andrew stiffened at the anger in Frank’s voice. This was going to be more difficult than he thought if Frank continued down this conversational path. Andrew realized he felt very protective of Ian and didn’t like hearing Frank’s crap directed at him. Andrew stopped a moment and considered his feelings. He felt protective of Ian? Man, that had never happened with a one-nighter before. But Ian was different and Andrew knew they would be together again that night. The tight jeans were getting tighter on Andrew, and the young Marine was glad to slide onto a bar chair to hide whatever might be going on elsewhere in his pants.
“We have about an hour before they show, so drink up,” Frank ordered the first round, and Andrew had his usual Guinness and Frank his Bud Light. Andrew kept half an ear open to listening for openings in Frank’s rambling to make the appropriate sound. He couldn’t get Ian out of his mind, and that was strange for Andrew. He was used to one-nighters and not getting involved. He had never asked for someone to stay with him and to return for another round of sex. But Ian kept creeping back into his head. Oh, God. Frank must be waiting for a reply.
“Where is your head, Andy?”
“Not here with you, Frank. Sorry. I’m still kind of foggy from last night,” he gave Frank a sheepish grin and it worked.
Frank slapped Andrew on the back, “Last I saw you were doing some kind of line dance with Jessie’s brother.”
“You get drunk enough, you can end up doing anything I guess.”
“So, you’re not going to tell me who?”
“Frank, I am an officer and a gentleman,” Andrew looked up and saw Jessie’s mother and father enter the bar. But not Ian yet. “Here is the rest of the party.”
“Maybe the fruit cup won’t come,” muttered Frank as Mara and Jess Kincaid came up to Andrew.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you, Andrew. Frank, hello,” said Mara as she hugged the young Marine. “I guess Frank told you our son, Ian, was joining us tonight?”
“I gotta use the head,” said Frank to no one in particular and went off in the direction of the restrooms in the lobby.
Mara seemed to visibly relax as Frank left, “Not sure how this is going to go. Ian and Frank don’t exactly get along.”
“Mrs. Kincaid, if you haven’t already noticed very few people really get along with Frank.”
“Then you understand the issues involved?” asked Jess, the father.
“I understand Frank, so nothing more needs to be said. Stephen and I are friends but everyone tolerates Frank. It’s just that Frank doesn’t know that. Don’t worry about tonight; I’ve had practice handling Frank.”
Andrew, by instinct it felt like, looked up and saw Ian walk into the bar. He smiled and then wondered if anyone noticed.
“Oh, there’s Ian,” Mara said as her gaze followed Andrew’s.
* * * *
Ian scanned the bar as he entered and was at once relieved not to see Frank and his heart actually skipped a beat when he locked eyes with Andrew. This was going to be harder than he had thought. He saw his mother come into view and broke eye contact as he hugged his mother.
“Frank’s in the restroom and Andrew is over at the bar but don’t worry, Andrew understands what an ass Frank is…”
“Don’t worry, Mom, Thanksgiving won’t happen here.”
“Well, you look better than I thought you would.”
“I’m glad I pass inspection. And, yes, I had a good time last night.”
“I just have one question, though—where did you learn to conga like that?” Mara laughed as they joined Jess and Andrew at the bar.
“Conga is my life, Mother.”
“We doing conga again?” Andrew asked with a smile.
“Not unless I get as drunk as I was last night.” Ian’s father laughed.
“You were in the conga line, Dad?”
“Oh, honey, everyone was in that line,” offered Mara.
“It was a good wedding and a great reception. Almost a shame Jessie and Stephen had to leave early,” Andrew said. “But they had other things on their mind, last night.”
“I wonder what is taking Frank so long?” asked Jess.
There was a scream from the lobby area. Ian looked over and started to run toward the
lobby. Andrew and Ian’s parents looked at each other and followed, the commotion as they saw Ian tear off his jacket and fall to the ground by a body lying on the floor of the lobby. Andrew had a sinking feeling as they approached and saw Ian performing CPR on Frank, splayed out on the floor.
“Have the EMTs been called?” asked Ian of a hotel employee as they approached.
“Yes, but should you be doing that?”
“Ian is a licensed physician’s assistant and I would suggest you leave matters in his hands,” yelled Mara.
Looking up at Andrew, Ian jerked his head toward his jacket. “Grab my phone out of the pocket. Jessie called this morning so the call should be like second or third on the call history list. Hit redial and tell Stephen to get his butt back here as quickly as possible. Tell him it’s bad.”
Andrew rummaged through the jacket, found the phone, and stepped away from the crowd while he made the call. Getting Jessie to understand the seriousness of the situation frustrated Andrew and he finally got through to her with an obscenity and harsh tone. Finishing with Stephen, Andrew watched as the EMTs wheeled Frank out the door into the waiting ambulance. Stepping over to Ian and his parents, he handed Ian the jacket and phone.
“I’m afraid dinner is going to be at the hospital cafeteria,” Ian said.
“I told Stephen we’d wait for them at the hospital but it’ll be hours before he gets here. I’ll get my car.”
Mara sighed. “Leave it to Frank to fuck up a honeymoon.” And no one really contradicted her.
Chapter 3
Ian came back into the Family Cardiac Waiting Room and saw his mother stretched out on one of the sofas. His father lay relaxed and sleeping in one of the four recliners set about for waiting family members. He had just spoken to the desk nurse and was updated on Frank’s condition. Blood work and further tests indicated a heart attack but the extent of damage wasn’t known and they were having a hard time stabilizing him. They were hopeful a heart catheterization would tell more, but the doctor was wanting to wait till morning. What wasn’t said was they’d do the cath only if he survived the night.
Flopping onto the one short sofa in the room—was it called a loveseat if it was in a waiting room?—he kicked off the dress shoes that looked so good but not made to be worn for hours on end. Andrew came into the room, sat down next to him, and handed him a cup of steaming black coffee.
“You were impressive tonight,” Andrew leaned close to speak in hushed tones so as not to disturb others waiting for word on loved ones.
“I thought I was pretty impressive on that bathroom floor,” Ian teased, sipping his coffee.
“Oh, impressive wasn’t the word. Inspiring is more liked it,” Andrew smiled but became serious, “I had no idea you were a nurse or a physician’s assistant. Stephen never mentioned it.”
“Stephen and I never really ever had a heart-to-heart. When he realized, I was gay, he pretty much avoided me, and then last Thanksgiving didn’t endear me to him or Frank, for that matter.”
“Well, Stephen has some history and issues about people like us and I cut him some slack in that regard.”
Ian rolled his eyes, “You are far more understanding than I am, then. I never did anything except tell him if he hurt my sister I’d rip his heart out.”
“You know his mother left Frank for another woman?”
Ian almost did a Danny Thomas-like spit-take with his coffee and looked at Andrew, “No, didn’t know that. But damn.”
“What?”
“I don’t really want to feel sorry for Frank,” offered Ian. “But it puts a different spin on the issue, I guess.”
“Frank was given full custody of Stephen, and Stephen and his mother never really had a great relationship after all that. When she died, Stephen didn’t go to the funeral.”
“Still, I’m not his mother and I didn’t fuck over his life, so why am I paying for it?” demanded Ian of no one really.
“He spent his childhood hearing his father rant about queers and then having to deal with his mother,” Andrew shrugged. “I guess he’s doing as well as can be expected.”
“Frank never remarried?”
“No, there were a parade of ‘aunts’ through Stephen’s life but nothing permanent. One of the things he told me about your sister was the normal family she came from.”
“He didn’t meet me right away,” offered Ian.
Andrew laughed ruefully and shook his head.
“I was ignored a lot when I was present. In fact, I tried to talk her out of marrying Stephen every chance I could. And then last Thanksgiving…” Ian’s voice trailed off in memory.
“What exactly happened last Thanksgiving?”
“All hell broke loose,” was the reply but before he could finish the thought, Andrew and Ian’s mobile phones went off at the same time.
Looking at his phone, Ian said, “Jessie.” And Andrew acknowledged it was Stephen on his phone. Ian leaned back and hit the answer call button and Andrew put the phone to his ear and stood apart from Ian.
“So how is he really?” Jessie asked. “And who all are at the hospital?”
Ian was honest and told her their parents and Andrew were waiting, “Stephen really needs to be here as soon as possible. And yes, it’s bad. How bad I don’t know and we won’t for a while.” He wasn’t going to tell her that he thought Frank wouldn’t make it through the night, but he stressed that it was a bad heart attack and not to fool around getting to the hospital
Andrew sat back down and looked at Ian. “Stephen can be such an ass sometimes.” Ian arched an eyebrow and said nothing as he waited for Andrew to continue. “He wanted to know what had happened and why were you involved. I reminded the ass that you saved his father’s life. He’s just upset.”
“I told Jessie to get their asses here now.”
“So, Frank could really die?”
“They’re only going to do the heart cath if he survives the night. He’s not stable, and I get the feeling they aren’t expecting to do the cath. Personally, I think Frank is stronger than that given how quickly he revived in the lobby.”
Mara stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes, “Any word from Jessie?”
“Stephen said they were just getting into La Guardia so they should be here in a few hours yet, Mrs. Kincaid,” Andrew offered.
Ian nodded in agreement.
A nice-looking man in a long white coat came into the room looking at a chart. “Mr. Kincaid?”
“I’m Ian Kincaid,” Ian moved to meet the young doctor with Andrew and Mara in toe.
“Has the next of kin arrived?”
“They should be here by morning. Mr. Malone’s son and my sister were on their honeymoon.”
“They were married just last evening,” offered Mara.
“This son, does he understand the seriousness of the situation?”
All three nodded their heads with Ian probing, “Has Mr. Malone stabilized?”
The handsome doctor shrugged. “He’s resting and his blood pressure and respiration have improved. But it will be touch and go for the next day or two even if we are able to do the heart catheterization and if surgery is warranted.”
“Has he been conscious?” asked Andrew.
“He’s been in and out. But he seems fixated on whether or not Mr. Kincaid gave him mouth to mouth resuscitation.”
Ian laughed, Andrew shook his head and Mara went back to lie down, muttering, “Always such an ass.”
“Put Mr. Malone’s mind at rest and tell him my lips did not touch his and never this side of Hell,” Ian said going back to the—yes, damn it! Let’s call it a loveseat—and taking a big swig of coffee, wishing it were maybe vodka.
“I told him mouth to mouth was no longer protocol,” came the confused comment from the doctor. “But if one of you is Andrew, he’d like to see him, if possible.”
Andrew plunged his hands into his jeans and looked as if he was being led to the slaughter. “I’ll see what he wants.”
&nb
sp; Mara came over and sat next to her son. “Andrew seems a nice man.”
“I suppose. If I remember clearly he congas well,” Ian said carefully.
“A word of advice for both you and Andrew before Stephen shows up?”
“Whatever are you getting at, Mother, dear?” asked Ian with a rueful smile.
“Is the term ‘butch-up’? Because if your mother can tell Andrew is interested in you far beyond the bounds of friendship, so will Jessie and most certainly Stephen.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about, dear girl.” Ian included a sniff with the indignity of the statement.
“My thirty dollars outflanked your ten, and I found out what room you came out of a few hours ago,” and Mara gave it her own significant sniff to punctuate as well.
Ian raised that one eyebrow over the right eye and laughed. “I’ll have to remember to tip better.”
“What were you thinking?”
“Obviously, I wasn’t. Imagine my shock when I woke up in his bed?”
“Does Stephen know about him?”
“About last night?”
“No, of course not. But about him? He’s gay or at least bi-curious but from the looks he gives you, I’d say gay.”
“Where are you getting this terminology from? I thought Oprah retired.”
“Since you never talk to me or your father about—- things, I’ve been going to the local PFLAG support group. I want to understand,” Mara looked away briefly and then returned her attention to her son.
“Oh, Momma, there’s really nothing to tell. Did Jessie talk to you about her dates and love life?”
“Ian, I am a woman and I understood what she was going through. I’d been there and done that!”