by J. M. Snyder
“Mother!”
“Oh, get over it. It’s just that you never bring anyone home and you never tell us what is going on in your personal life. I worry about you.”
“Momma, I’ll be honest. Haven’t met anyone I’d want you to meet and I don’t have a lot of time for that stuff anyway. By the time I see the doctor’s overflow and do his rounds at the hospital and maybe a tour in the ER if they need someone, I’m too tired for anything other than bed—alone.”
“So this with Andrew—I heard him say he was staying through the weekend and I guess you are, too?”
Ian didn’t say anything and just looked at her squarely in the eyes. “I have a few days. He’s nice. And when we part, that will be it. I cannot be in love with Stephen’s best friend.”
Mara looked at her son long and hard. “Don’t cheat yourself out of happiness because of Jessie’s first husband.”
“First husband?” now Ian was confused.
“Oh, did I say that out loud?” Mara giggled. “Sorry a little slip there. But honestly, Stephen is such a prig—do you see it lasting?”
Ian fell back onto the two-cushion sofa—cannot be a loveseat with your mother sitting with you—in stunned silence.
* * * *
Andrew was led down through large double doors and into a round hall area with a large nurse’s station in the center. Cubicles and rooms circled the desk. From the desk, two people could see just about every patient in treatment as well as the equipment. Hospitals made Andrew nervous. Too many comrades didn’t make it out of such trauma centers on the battlefield.
Dr. Angelos—according to his ID badge dangling from his jacket—didn’t say much as he led Andrew around to where he recognized Frank laying on an examining table with wires and tubes running over him and through him. Frank looked like a beached whale and even Andrew could see the labored breathing. Wasn’t the oxygen helping at all?
“Just a few minutes, please. Keep him as quiet as possible,” and with that, Angelos walked away leaving Andrew alone, uncomfortable, and taking in the smells that reminded him of when his mother died. Taking a deep breath, he moved into the little examining room where the older man lay.
“Frank?” Andrew called in a low voice and he saw Frank’s eyes flutter open. “How are you doing, there?”
“They tell me I kind of died a couple of times. Although I overheard that, they’re really telling me nothing. So, I take it that this was the big one?”
“I would say not the big, big one since you are still here,” commented Andrew.
“I guess. But will you tell me something?” Frank turned his head and raised up to look at Andrew.
“If I know anything, sure, I’ll tell you. What do you want to know?”
“Did they call Stephen?”
“Of course we called him. They landed in New York and will be here by morning.”
Frank nodded, but shifted in the bed. “They tell me Jessie’s brother kept me alive.”
“Yes, he saw you collapse and his training kicked in.”
“Training?”
“Ian’s a nurse practitioner and he knew what to do. Took the lead and kept you going till the EMTs got there.”
“Did he give me—?”
“Don’t finish that question. Just be grateful someone was there who knew what to do about your situation.” Andrew gave Frank a look that backed Frank down. He sighed and shook his head.
“He and I have not been friends. Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s a professional and he saw a need and even though it was you, he did his best for you. Cut him some slack, Frank.”
“I don’t like being in debt to that fruitcake. He makes my skin crawl about what he is and does.”
“You’re not his type, Frank, so relax.”
Frank started to say something but he began to cough that deep racking cough sometimes referred to as a death rattle. Alarms went off and sent a team of people wearing scrubs running for the tiny room. Andrew stepped back into the hallway and watched as they worked over the father of his best friend.
Andrew leaned up against the nurse’s station watching. They moved quickly and efficiently adjusting dials and trying to get Frank to respond. The desk nurse came by with a small cup of water and handed it to Andrew. The older woman smiled, the blinged out chain on her glasses swaying back and forth.
“You might as well go back to the waiting room. He’s not going to be able to talk for a while.” She used that smooth, comforting voice they all used when people were dying, regardless if it was the ER here or in the MASH tent on the battlefield.
Andrew shook his head and headed out to where he wanted to grab hold of Ian and cry, but couldn’t and wouldn’t.
Chapter 4
A nurse tech (the fancy new name for the old Nurse’s Aide classification) brought blankets and pillows for the throng waiting for word on the condition of husbands, fathers, mothers, or grandparents. Ian looked around the large room and watched the some fourteen people speak to one another in hushed tones or trying to sleep. Looking over at his own parents, Ian saw his mother tucking a blanket around his still sleeping father on the recliner. She glanced over as Ian claimed a pillow and blanket and curled up in his corner of—yes, it was a loveseat again—while Andrew sat straight up with his left leg crossed over his right leg, bouncing his knee absently and staring into the distance.
He had been unusually quiet ever since coming back from seeing Frank. Ian had wanted to take Andrew in his arms and tell him it would be okay. But he didn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t. This is what made Ian’s life so hard and lonely. Why shouldn’t he be able to comfort a friend? Why couldn’t he hold on to Andrew and draw strength from each other in this time of need? He knew why and it was unfair. He caught the look from his mother and pulled the blanket up under his chin, trying to disappear.
Ian watched as Mara walked over to Andrew, put her hand on his knee, and spoke quietly to him. He smiled and nodded, stood, and, holding onto Mara’s elbow, Andrew stopped and leaned over to Ian. “I’m walking your mom to the cafeteria. She needs to eat to keep her blood sugar in check.”
Mara smiled a meek smile as Ian gave her a look, since she didn’t have trouble with low blood sugar—or high blood sugar for that matter. Ian slumped back and hoped his mother was not going to embarrass herself, and more importantly, not embarrass him.
* * * *
Scrambled eggs, sliced tomatoes, an English muffin with a swipe of margarine across, and a cup of very black coffee sat in front of her. She hoped she could choke some of it down while she had a heart to heart with Andrew. But where to begin?
Mara watched Andrew tear into a three-egg omelet, hash browns, dry rye toast, and his equally black coffee. Ian liked his sugared and creamed to the point you couldn’t taste the coffee anymore. The fact that Ian drank the black coffee from Andrew was another way Mara sensed the feelings between the two. How else were they different? And did it matter? Was this leading anywhere? She felt sure it was, if she knew human nature—and she was sure she did. They were acting like a couple already and Mara feared others would notice, too. And the fear of it made her angry at Stephen and Frank.
Andrew paused from eating and took a big swig of hot coffee. “Go ahead, Mrs. Kincaid and get it off your chest.”
Mara paused in eating and her musing and looked Andrew in the eyes. “So this didn’t fool you. I know from the look on Ian’s face he knew my plans.”
“He gave you that universal, ‘Oh, shit!’ look, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“Call me Mara. If we are going to be honest and open with each other than call me Mara.”
“I’m promising to listen. I’m not promising open and honest, Mrs. Kincaid,” Andrew said as he scooped some omelet up with a piece of toast.
“Fair enough.” And she put down her silverware and looked at the handsome Marine across the table. “I don’t know anything about Ian’s personal life. We see him four times a year when he comes home for special
events and holidays. He’s had a hard time establishing his—his—identity within the confines of—oh, let’s call it polite society.”
“He told me about the quarterback in high school.”
“That put him back in the closet when he got to college and nurses training. He said the men in the class were always trying to out macho each other so they wouldn’t be thought of as gay. At the time being a male nurse was difficult. But he was good at his job and he travelled for a while as a part-time nurse. He volunteered and spent some time in Africa dealing with the AIDS epidemic there.”
Andrew, too, had put down his fork and knife and listened intently to Mara describe her son. “Andrew, Ian has always been a remarkable person. Caring for others over himself, and taking the brunt of the hysteria over the quarterback incident to make sure the kid got his college scholarship.”
Mara took a deep breath knowing she was in the home stretch of her comments. “The family and the people who care about him have accepted Ian and as his mother, I am proud of the man he has become. I do not want to see that destroyed by you or anyone else.”
Andrew looked surprised to Mara. Had he been expecting the usual ‘do not hurt my son/daughter?’ Maybe destroy was a little extreme?
Mara went on. “Obviously last night happened. And apparently, you both are in those precious hours of afterglow. But neither of you can afford afterglow here and now.”
“I’m not sure I am grasping what you are leading up to, Mara.”
“I’ll cut to the chase. Andrew, you seem a nice young man. I like you and can see why Ian does, too. However, now is not the time for you two to act like a well-established couple with Stephen coming in here in just a few hours. I am certain Jessie will pick up the electricity going between you. If I can, I am sure she will as well. Stephen is going to be upset and he has the genes in him to be as big a prick as his father. Here and now is not the time for Stephen to explode over the two of you.”
“Stephen has issues…”
“Yes, Jessie told us all about his mother. Boo-hoo! At what, twenty-eight, twenty-nine years old? Move on. He’s married now. Focus on making that family he didn’t have. I lost my mother at ten to cancer. I was devastated and angry for years, but I made the family I lost and worked at being happy, and I was and I am. It’s time for the man in Stephen to suck it up but not today.” Mara was on a roll and things were coming out of her mouth with more honesty than she had originally intended. It was easy to talk to Andrew and deep inside she was hoping it could work out for Ian and him but not right this minute.
“Yeah, I understand. But I’ll need to talk to Ian before Stephen gets here.”
“Privately somewhere. Not in the waiting room,” Mara countered. “Or the restroom.”
Andrew smiled, and suddenly Mara felt hungry as she dug into the scrambled eggs in front of her.
Chapter 5
Andrew parted company with Mara on their way back to the waiting room. He needed to talk to Ian and agreed with Mara it had to be alone. But the question was: where? He stood and watched the organized chaos at the nurses’ station. People ran back and forth and seemed to be at odds with each other but things got done with a quiet efficiency amid the hub-bub of panic and emergency.
He moved toward the older nurse he had talked to before and asked her if there was a private room where he and Ian could talk in preparation for Mr. Malone’s son and new daughter-in-law. He also asked if the doctor on call could go over the case with them so they could help when Stephen arrived. The nurse said she would ask but regulations on privacy may keep them from discussing the case. She did show him where the private counseling room was and said he and Ian could go in the tiny room with four chairs and a desk that swallowed more than half the enclosed cubicle-like room.
Ian came as bidden by the nurse to the room and told Andrew since neither one was family, the doctor could not discuss the case. “So how much did Mom bend your ear?” Ian smiled.
“She was helpful in establishing we needed to be prepared for Stephen. I thought discussing the case with the doctor would help.” Andrew shrugged and leaned against the desk.
Ian was aware of the close quarters and the scent of Andrew’s aftershave. The very air in the small enclosure seemed saturated with Andrew’s essence. Ian sat down in one of the chairs, trying to concentrate on anything other than the man in front of him. Ian cleared his throat, “So what do we need to do then?”
Andrew leaned forward and kissed Ian on the forehead, “Talk about things and do things we won’t be able to say and do when Stephen gets here?”
Ian turned and saw that the door could be locked and twisted the little knob on the door and then turned to Andrew, “Just no moaning. These walls are thin.”
“Maybe we should go over behavior we need to restrict?” asked Andrew as he kissed Ian on the ear, then down the neck and then full on the lips, all gently and friendly. Not the frenzy it had been before.
“Well, none of that for sure.”
Andrew began rubbing Ian’s crotch, feeling the lump get hard immediately, “I suppose this is out, too, then?”
Ian’s sharp intake of breath and the tight tones of his voice would tell Andrew everything, “Not even under the table.”
Ian reached up under Andrew’s now loose polo shirt and twisted a nipple forcing Andrew to swallow that low moan. “I can’t see that being allowed either.”
Ian stood and pushed Andrew back against the desk again, then unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, “Remind me to tell you not to wear button fly jeans next time.”
Andrew laughed a long and guttural laugh and spread his legs as Ian worked to free his ever-growing member.
Ian moved in and kissed Andrew as he stroked the lengthening cock in a slow and steady motion. Andrew wrapped his arm around Ian and placed his hands on Ian’s hard ass and massaged Ian’s khaki-covered globes of an ass. Andrew swallowed Ian’s piercing and darting tongue as they both rubbed each other into a coming climax state. Ian knew this was going too far and tried to pull back. “You are always trying to back off, relax a bit. Enjoy the moment.”
But the moment was suddenly shattered by the explosions of phones in their pockets. Ian jumped back just as pre-cum ooze was glistening on Andrew’s cockhead. Ian leaned over and licked it from the slit in Andrew’s cock. “Hold that thought till we are alone again.”
“I’ve bookmarked your place,” Andrew said as he answered his phone knowing it was Stephen just as he knew Ian was talking to Jessie. On the ground and in taxi to the hospital prompted immediate action on their part.
Saying and doing no more to one another, they reassembled themselves and took deep breaths to recover from the sexual exchange.
They were in such a hurry, neither one saw the knowing smirk on the older nurse’s face as she watched them stumble out of the counseling room. She’ll let it air out a bit before closing the door.
* * * *
Back in the waiting room, Ian told his mother that Stephen and Jessie were in town and on their way. She moved to tell his father. Ian sat back down on the loveseat-no-more and Andrew flopped into one of the remaining recliners pushed back and tried to look relaxed.
The waiting room was deathly quiet. Most of the other families were asleep or trying to sleep. Ian kicked off his shoes once more and curled up under the blanket and closed his eyes. Even with his eyes closed he could still see the image of Andrew sprawled in the recliner and still the scent of him lingered in Ian’s nostrils. Perhaps it would be best if he just disappeared once he had talked to Stephen and Jessie. What was the point in hanging on here? Frank had screwed up what was shaping into a great ball-busting weekend. He hadn’t had this much sex offered to him in a long time. He also liked Andrew a lot, so leaving would reduce the chance for—for—shit!—for everything.
He heard Jessie’s voice before he saw her. Mara went to the door of the waiting room and stepped into the hall. Andrew got up and went out as well. Ian hunkered down into the
little sofa and tried to block all the questions that were swirling just outside in the hallway. The voices moved away and Ian did drift into a light sleep. He felt floating but was aware of conversations far off in the distance of his mind. He didn’t want to acknowledge the invasion into his well-ordered life.
Andrew was a potential bomb and blessing at the same time. What did he want to happen? He wanted to be alone with the young, oddly handsome Marine and see if what he was feeling was real enough. Ian couldn’t get Andrew out of his mind and that scared him as much as it excited him. Ian had been a loner always and had quick, down and dirty anonymous sex—when there was sex at all. Was his favorite dildo sex? No. Not after feeling Andrew inside him. And he was sure the dildo wouldn’t satisfy him much after this either.
He felt the gentle pull and soft purring voice of his mother trying to wake him up, Ian roused a bit and looked up into Mara’s eyes feeling very much like he overslept on a school day. She smiled. “They’re here.”
Ian smiled and thought of the little girl from the movie Poltergeist. Yes, haunted is how he felt at the moment. Looking at his mother, he waited for her to say something. “Wake up, dear. Stephen said he wanted to speak to you after seeing Frank and talking to the doctors.”
“I won’t be able to tell him much more than the doctors. It’s a wait and see game till in the morning.”
“It’s after four in the morning. How much more morning does it need to be, Ian?
“I would say if he hasn’t died in twelve hours they will do the cath—so what is that—seven in the morning? Another three hours or so?”
“Good Lord! I hope they don’t put it to him that way.” Mara looked shocked by Ian’s bluntness.
“They won’t and I won’t, but that is the reality we are dealing with. It all hinges on Frank’s ability to stay alive.”
Andrew popped his head into the waiting room. “Ian? Stephen is asking for you to come in and hear what the doctors are telling him. He’s having a hard time following all the assorted issues.”