Dreamspinner Press Years One & Two Greatest Hits

by J. M. Colail

  Heard? “Heard what?”

  “Come on, Jack,” Roy said impatiently. “It doesn’t take a genius. I got a phone call this morning saying Hallie’s swimming lesson was cancelled tomorrow because the instructor had a family emergency. Roz is her swimming instructor. I put two and two together.”

  Okay. That was… believable. But it didn’t explain what Roy was doing here. Was he just dense? Did he not realize Roz was not going to be in a particularly social mood? “Right,” he hedged. “I don’t know what to tell you. She’s not exactly up to having visitors right now, you know? I’ll drop off the flowers for you, though, if you like, and tell her you stopped by.”

  Roy’s eyes narrowed just slightly. Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. This was totally unlike the Roy he knew. He seemed almost spiteful. Then the expression was gone, replaced by something milder and almost sympathetic. “Look, I don’t know what Roz told you, Jack, but you aren’t that baby’s father.”

  Jack blinked. Roy? Roy was Roz’s baby-daddy? Wow, that one had gone right by him. He tried to be sensitive. “There is no baby, Roy,” he said gently. “And Roz isn’t up to visitors. Trust me, no matter how much you think you share her pain, she doesn’t want to see you.”

  Roy put the flowers down on the lounge table and stepped back. “I guess you would know, huh?”

  Ah, shit. This was really not going to go well. At least Roy sounded more resigned than angry. So far. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack lied. He knew perfectly well what Roy was implying; it just happened to be way off the mark.

  “Right.” Roy snorted bitterly. “It’s all right, Jack. I get it. You don’t have to worry. After today, I won’t get in your way. You won’t ever have to see me again.” He swiped the vase off the table and stormed toward the hospital rooms.

  What the hell? Jack was not losing a friend over this. This was ridiculous. There was also no way he was letting Roy in to see Roz. He was, quite possibly, the last person she needed to see. He headed Roy off before he could get to the door. “Roy. There is nothing to be in the way of! But I am not going to let you go in there. It’ll be bad news for both of you.”

  “Quit denying it!” Roy finally said furiously. “Do you think I don’t see the way she looks at you? I’m not blind, Jack! You’re always there, and if you’re not, her truck is parked in your driveway! I’m not angry with you for it. You didn’t know there was any history there. But the least you could do is own up to it!”

  “For the last time,” Jack told him, exasperated, “there is nothing going on. I don’t know why you won’t believe me, but it’s not my problem.”

  “Then why won’t you let me see her? What are you doing here?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Because I’m in love with her brother, you idiot!”

  Jack was vaguely aware that Roy had very nearly lost his grip on the enormous vase he was holding. His blood was pounding furiously in his ears, adrenaline coursing through him, and all he could think was—it felt good to have it out in the open. It felt… great, in fact. Fuck Roy if he didn’t get it.

  “What?”

  Okay, Lucy. You’ve got some ’splainin’ to do. Jack steeled himself. “I’m gay, Roy. That’s what you’ve been seeing. Roz looks at me like that because I make Julian happy, because we get along, and because I’m her friend. It’s Julian’s truck that’s been parked in my driveway, and it’s Julian I’ve been visiting at the Piets’. I’m sorry you got the wrong idea, but I won’t be sorry for that. And you still aren’t going in there to see Roz.”

  Roy opened his mouth to reply, but Jack heard the door open behind him before Roy could get a word out. “You guys are awfully loud,” Julian admonished, cheeks pink and eyes dancing. “Think you could keep it down a little?”

  Jack felt an answering blush creeping up the back of his neck and grinned. He’d been going around thinking Julian was a midlife crisis. More like a rest-of-life crisis, he figured. He wondered how he’d missed it. “Sorry, boss.”

  “Uh-huh,” Julian said, mock-severely. “Just don’t let it happen again.” His head disappeared back into the room, then reappeared a half-second later. “Oh, and Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  Julian’s answering smile lit Jack’s whole body from the inside. “Me, too.”

  “I think that’s my cue,” Jack told Roy flatly. “Do you want me to take the flowers or not?”

  Roy handed them over, still looking completely steamrollered.

  “Thanks, Roy. You’re a pal. See you later.”

  Maybe Jack was being rude, but, well, Roy had started it. Roy would either forgive him for making an ass out of him or not. Jack wasn’t about to lose any sleep over it now, although he’d certainly miss seeing little Hallie if Roy decided to hold a grudge. There was nothing he could do to influence that situation now, so he turned his mind to the task at hand.

  “Hi, Roz.” Jack plonked the flowers down on her table. “I won’t ask you how you’re feeling.”

  “Don’t you know better than to bring me flowers?” she grumbled, not quite smiling. She looked—okay, she looked devastated, like she’d been crying her eyes out for as long as she’d been awake, but all things considered Jack thought she was a rock for acting as normally as possible.

  Jack appreciated the effort. “You know me. I couldn’t help myself.” He glanced sideways and caught Julian’s eye again. “I, um….”

  Roz peeled one arm off of her mattress long enough to fling an ice chip at him. “Get a room, guys. This one’s mine.”

  Taking that to mean he was forgiven for being totally at a loss, not to mention excused from the room, Jack let Julian drag him out the door and into the nearest supply closet.

  The nurse taking inventory raised her eyebrows in a decidedly amused expression. Julian said, “So sorry; need to borrow the supply closet for a minute. Medical emergency,” and shooed her out.

  Jack didn’t bother suppressing the snort of laughter at that, and didn’t have to. Half a second later he found himself pressed up against the door, two armfuls of warm, happy doctor. Being manhandled by Julian was something new for him, although if preliminary tests were anything to go by, he kind of liked it.

  “I should have told you weeks ago,” he mumbled, tongue tracing the roof of Julian’s mouth.

  “You do pick your moments,” Julian acknowledged, nipping Jack’s lower lip. “I can live with that.” His hands wandered down Jack’s sides to hook fingers into his belt loops. “Tell me.”

  Jack’s head went fuzzy, his senses filled with Julian’s scent, his taste, the feel of not-quite-clean-shaven skin against his own. “I love you,” he said, letting the words take him away.

  The hands at his waist tugged him closer. “Again.”

  A lazy grin curled on his lips. “I love you,” Jack practically sing-songed. Who knew three little words could be so liberating?

  Julian kissed him again, a long, slow, burning kiss that had every nerve ending in Jack’s body standing up and taking notice. “I like the sound of that.”

  The grin turned wry. “You’re kidding.”

  Julian reached around and grabbed his ass. “No joke.” He leaned his forehead against Jack’s, so close that all Jack could see was the deep, mesmerizing brown of his eyes. “For the record, I love you too. And I am going to show you just how much.” He tilted his hips forward into Jack’s, just for a second, then said mischievously, “Later. Maybe I’ll even get out that Christmas present from your mom.”

  “Tease,” Jack pouted, willing his erection to go away. It throbbed insistently, demanding someone give it some more attention. The idea of incorporating a camera into their, uh, bedtime routine, was definitely worth exploring. “Five more minutes?”

  “Optimist.” Julian pinched his butt, then pulled him away from the door by the belt loops. Jack would have been offended, but, well, he had a point. Actually, right now, they were both a little pointy in certain areas. “Come on, get. Ooh, is that a pa
stry?” It was a little squished, for obvious reasons, but Julian tore into it as they not-so-discreetly evacuated the supply room.

  Jack rolled his eyes a little, feeling flushed and exposed, but oddly not afraid, not ashamed, and unfortunately not any less aroused. He was beginning to think he had a… thing… about public sex. “I got you an orange juice, too. I think I left it in the lounge.”

  “I knew I kept you around for a reason.” Julian stifled Jack’s token protest with another brief kiss, then gave him a little shove in the direction of the lounge. “You go get it. I’m going to go make sure Roz hasn’t tried to escape.”

  Yeah, that would be something she’d try. Maybe not yet, but soon enough. Jack sauntered off to the lounge—not on purpose, but because with his dick this hard there was really no other way to achieve locomotion. The bag with the rest of the pastries and the bottle of orange juice were still on the table. Snatching them up, Jack was just getting ready to head back when he heard familiar footfalls in the hallway. He looked up to see his mother coming at him at a full run, face full of worry.

  “Jack! I got here as soon as I could. They kept telling me visiting hours weren’t until eleven on Sundays!” She swept him into a hug that felt more fragile than it looked. “How is she?”

  “About as well as can be expected,” Jack said automatically, hugging back gingerly. “Which is to say, she’s a wreck but she’s also a rock. She’ll be okay, but not for a long time.”

  Flo nodded, releasing him to stand at arm’s length. “You look different,” she said after a second of scrutiny. “Is everything okay with you and Julian?”

  Jeez, Jack might as well just tattoo it on his forehead: “Property of Dr. Julian Piet.” It’d save him from people and their nosy, occasionally well-meaning questions. Then again, maybe his ass was a more appropriate location. “Peachy,” he said wryly. “Thanks for prying.”

  Flo tsked at him, then segued into a cough. Remembering she’d seemed a little under the weather at Christmas, Jack frowned. “Have you still got that cold?”

  “I’m fine,” she protested, waving him off and covering her mouth with her hand. Her whole body seemed to shake with it, and for a second he thought she wouldn’t be able to catch her breath. Then she straightened up. “There, you see? Just a little tickle.”

  Jack blinked. There was a smear of blood on the corner of her mouth. He reached out to touch it. “Mom?”

  She wavered in front of him, then started to fall. Jack only barely managed to catch her, panic rising deep within him. “Mom?! Mom!” She was limp in his arms, and her breathing was shallow. “Julian! I need a doctor!”

  I need you, he thought at his mother, but her eyes were closed, and even if he’d said it aloud, she wouldn’t have heard him.

  “MR. STRANGE?”

  Jack looked up, squeezed Julian’s hand briefly, and stood. “That’s me.”

  Julian flashed him an indecipherable look, then stood himself and left the counseling room. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Jack watched him go a little forlornly. They’d agreed that his mother would appreciate Jack hearing this by himself, but that didn’t make it easier to bear alone.

  “How is she?”

  The doctor put down the clipboard and motioned for him to sit again. That did not bode well. “It’d be best if you were sitting down for this.”

  Jack’s stomach flipped. “I… can’t. I feel helpless sitting down.”

  “I understand.” The doctor leaned against the counter. “I’m Dr. Wilson. Before we start, you should know that I’m not your mother’s usual physician. She’s been seeing Dr. van Hissink in Calgary.”

  That sounded ominous. “Dr. van Hissink?”

  “The oncologist?”

  Off Jack’s blank stare, Dr. Wilson released a long sigh. “Your mother is a very difficult patient. I can see that just from Dr. van Hissink’s notes. She didn’t tell you?”

  Jack shook his head, his whole body shaking slightly. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to stay standing after all. He sank down into the chair, numb. “Tell me?”

  Dr. Wilson took the chair beside him. “Well, at least you’re not alone. Mr. Strange, your mother has stage-four small cell lung cancer. She was diagnosed last summer. Treatments were ineffective in reducing the cancer or stopping its progress, so she opted to decline treatment a few months ago.”

  Jack’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Cancer?” His mother had cancer and she hadn’t told him? Hadn’t even mentioned being sick? And now she was declining treatment? “What… how long…?”

  “The cancer is causing her lung tissue to collapse. We’ve put her on a ventilator, but it’s only a temporary measure. I’m afraid she probably only has a few weeks, but it’s impossible to say with any degree of accuracy. I’m sorry.”

  God. All those times he should have called, should have visited, should have made more of an effort to be the son he could have been. He’d never have the chance to do any of those things. He would never take her back to Cape Breton to see Pete and Dave. “I…. Oh.” His mouth went dry and his head felt empty. He thought he maybe should have cried a little, but nothing was sinking in. “Thank you. I…. Could you send Dr. Piet back in here please?”

  Dr. Wilson gave him a tight smile. “Sure.”

  The door swung open a couple of times and Julian slunk back in, slid back into the chair beside him, and slipped an arm around his shoulders. Jack accepted the touch, let Julian comfort him with his presence for a minute, then straightened up a little. When he turned to look at Julian, he felt the moisture in his eyes. “My mom’s dying.”

  WHAT SEEMED like hours later, Dr. Wilson returned to say Jack could go in and see his mother.

  “Is she awake?”

  The doctor shook his head. “Not yet. She’s had a bit of a shock. She probably won’t wake up until tomorrow at the earliest. Right now, it’s best that she stays sleeping.”

  Jack nodded, and Julian squeezed his hand. “Do you want me to…?”

  Feeling selfish, Jack shook his head. He wasn’t the only one who had lost something. No, he shouldn’t think of it that way; not yet. Roz needed Julian’s support at least as much as he did. “It’s okay,” he told him. “Go be with your sister. There’s probably only room for one, anyway.”

  He was right.

  Jack let the door close behind him. The room was tiny, and crammed with all sorts of medical equipment that he was glad he couldn’t identify. The calm blue walls were bathed in an unearthly glow of greens and reds, and the steady hiss of the respirator was the only sound in the otherwise desolate space.

  Jack took the seat beside his mother’s bed and flopped forward with his head in his hands. Someone had picked up the contents of his mother’s purse, which had spilled over the ground when she had fallen, and put everything in a clear plastic bag. Not yet ready to face his mother on the bed, he grasped the bag in both hands and turned it over.

  The detritus of his mother’s life had no answers for him. A half-used package of Kleenex, patterned with pink cats, was squished in the bottom corner; half a dozen pill bottles in varying degrees of consumption, a small wallet, and a cell phone that was losing its charge were all that remained. Absently, Jack opened the bag, spreading its contents on the bed in front of him. He ran his fingers over the objects absently, turning them in his hands.

  The labels on the pill bottles attracted his attention for a few moments, but none of them made any sense to him. Six- or seven-syllable words with instructions like twice daily with food, refill instructions, and prescribing physician, Dr. van Hissink. Pink pills, blue ones, big ones, small ones. Jack picked up the last bottle in his right hand, leaning his forehead on his left. He traced the letters with his thumb, not really paying attention.

  D.

  R.

  J.

  P.

  I.

  E.

  Jack blinked once and rubbed his left hand over his eyes, his vision blurring. Was he that tired?

 
; No. There it was, in plain sight: Dr. J. Piet. Julian. And his mother’s name, Flora Strange. And a date. Which could mean only one thing.

  Julian had known. The whole time they had been together, Julian had known his mother was dying.

  And Julian hadn’t said anything.

  Jack closed his fist around the bottle and closed his eyes. Fuck.

  Chapter Fifteen

  JULIAN CLOSED the door quietly behind him and took a moment to scrub a hand over his eyes. Roz would be released tomorrow, with no lasting damage that wasn’t psychological or emotional, and for which he was mostly grateful. For now, she was sleeping, something she’d probably be doing a lot of for the next few weeks. Roz tended to deal with this kind of intense and negative emotion by being unconscious for as much of it as she could manage.

  He sighed, making his way toward the lounge. With any luck, there was coffee left in the pot with his name on it. God, he was slipping back into old habits, but he couldn’t help it. What the hell else could he do? He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was. Sometime after four; that he knew because the shifts had changed. That made it, what, close to thirty-six hours since he’d had any sleep?

  Pouring the last of the coffee, Julian slumped into a chair. Now Jack’s mom was… well, here. It made everything a lot more complicated. He had been grieving for Roz, and now he was grieving for Jack, too, but on top of that he had to deal with the guilt of having known this was coming. Everything was compounded by the fact that he’d been where Jack was now, though granted at a much younger age. Not to mention that not eight hours ago Jack—Jack, who had been purposely distant from day one—had practically shouted to the world that he loved Julian.

  Julian took a sip of the hot liquid, wincing as it burned down his throat. He felt like his skin was too thin, like anyone could just look at him and see through everything he was feeling, all of the conflicting emotions tearing him in every direction at once. He thought he’d split under the sheer variety of things he had to think, feel, or do.