by Mel Gough
“Yer family’s beautiful, Ben,” Donnie said quietly. Then he glanced around the room, a pained expression on his face. It was clear what was on the other man’s mind. Donnie felt like an intruder here. Ben took the pictures and laid them facedown on the coffee table.
“Appearances can be deceptive, buddy. My family, that’s over—” A lump in his throat prevented Ben from continuing.
Donnie regarded him, his eyes suddenly very bright. Then he took a deep breath, pushed himself up on one elbow, and pulled Ben toward him by the front of his shirt. Ben came along, surprised for a moment. Then Donnie claimed his mouth, and Ben leaned into the kiss. It was hesitant at first, but Donnie grew bolder quickly, and rested his hand on Ben’s neck. Ben supported his weight against the back of the sofa and lost himself in the sensation of Donnie’s mouth on his. Donnie’s lips were rougher and stronger than Helen’s, but he was exceedingly gentle. The tip of his tongue flicked against Ben’s lips, and Ben closed his eyes.
Donnie eventually let go, panting. He looked a little winded, but his eyes were still sparkling. Ben placed his hand against Donnie’s face. “Can’t wait till you’re well again, buddy.”
“Same,” Donnie whispered, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Now, then.” Ben straightened up. “We gotta make that happen ASAP. And the first point on my agenda is to fuss over you. I’ll take you upstairs now so you can get some proper sleep. You’re looking peaky.”
Donnie looked amused but gratified, too. “Yer such a mother hen, Ben.”
“C’mere, then, chicken,” Ben grinned as he helped Donnie back to his feet.
It took them a good long while to climb the stairs. By the time they got to the top, Donnie was breathing fast and clinging on tightly again. Ben glanced at the closed door to his and Helen’s bedroom. He hadn’t even tried the handle since she had left for Savannah. There was nothing for him in there now.
Donnie caught him looking at the door, and he pulled Ben tighter as they moved into the guest bedroom. When they had sat down on the bed, he said quietly, “Don’t…even think of…sleeping on the sofa. Yer gonna…be here with me, awright?”
Ben’s eyes stung with tears as he glanced at Donnie. “How did you know?”
Donnie ignored the question. His expression was calm when he said. “I’m tired of being alone, and yer tired, too. So we won’t be alone no more. Simple as that.”
WHEN DONNIE HAD dropped off to sleep, Ben went back downstairs. He would let Donnie sleep for a few hours, then get him to eat a small meal so he could take his medication.
Donnie had been given a lot of advice and dietary guidelines at the hospital. He would have to keep taking the digestive enzymes until the inflammation in his pancreas fully healed. There was some scarring inside the organ, and only time would tell how well it would work from now on. All Donnie’s meals would have to be small and low in fat, which also should help him tolerate his new medication better. How Donnie would pay for the new, more expensive pills was the next obstacle they would have to tackle, and an idea was already forming in Ben’s mind about that.
Ben prepared a dish of homemade mashed potatoes, gravy, and carrots, feeling strangely reminded of cooking for Laura when she had been too small to eat exactly the same things as him and Helen, but too big for the bottle. Looking after Donnie came surprisingly natural to Ben. It was nice to be needed again. The last few months had been desperately lonely, and now he could finally admit it to himself.
The sun was just beginning to set when Ben brought Donnie a tray with his dinner, the enzymes, and the antiretrovirals. He kept an eye on the other man while he ate. Donnie only managed a few bites of his food, and by the time he swallowed his pills, his face had gone very white again. Ben quickly stepped into the bathroom and returned with a plastic basin that he placed on the bedside table. Then he sat down next to Donnie, who had rolled over onto his side, and put a hand on Donnie’s neck.
“You gonna be sick?”
Donnie shook his head and looked at Ben miserably. “Don’t think so.”
“Your stomach’s hurting?”
Donnie nodded. Ben went to the dresser where he had lined up Donnie’s medication and returned with a small orange bottle. “You better take a codeine now, when it’s not so bad yet.” Codeine in pill form wasn’t very effective for Donnie, possibly, Dr. Greene believed, because of his history of narcotics abuse. And more than one codeine pill every six hours or so tended to make Donnie feel queasy, something they both were keen to avoid.
Donnie buried his head in the pillow. “Dunno, Ben… I…” His voice was muffled and small.
Ben waited, but nothing else came. “What, buddy?” he asked eventually.
“What if the pain’s not real?” Donnie said into the pillow. “What if it’s just my body fucking with me, to get the codeine?”
Donnie’s hand lay in a tight fist on the bed, and Ben took it, gently smoothing the other man’s fingers between his.
“That pain’s real, buddy,” he said, fighting against his own tears. “I can see it on your face! Your body is screaming with it! I can’t bear to see you suffer. Listen to me.” He waited until Donnie looked at him, then said with as much emphasis as he could, “You’re allowed painkillers.”
Donnie’s eyes were full of tears, half from anger, half from pain. “Wish I could go to meeting.”
The pain Ben felt in his heart for the other man doubled. “You can’t, buddy, not yet. Tell you what, though. You take the codeine, and I’ll call Arthur and ask him to come for a visit.”
Donnie hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. Ben handed him the pill, together with a glass of water. Donnie took the glass with a shaky hand. The pain was clearly getting worse.
When he had swallowed the pill and curled up again, he gave a deep sigh. “This sucks.”
“I know, buddy,” Ben said quietly. He toed his shoes off and climbed under the covers, settling down behind Donnie. Slipping his arms around him, Ben waited with Donnie for the codeine to take the edge off.
Chapter Sixteen
“ARTHUR! THANKS SO much for coming. Please, come in.” Ben stepped aside to let the old man pass.
“My pleasure.” Arthur shook Ben’s outstretched hand, and they went into the living room. “I wanted to come to the hospital,” Arthur said, “but when you texted me Donnie was in the ICU, I thought I better give you guys some space. He must’ve been in bad shape to be in the hospital for a whole week.”
“He was pretty unwell,” Ben said. “He’s getting better now, but it’s really slow going.”
Arthur’s expression was full of affection. “Thank you for taking care of him, Ben. Donnie needs some kindness in his life. He’s had a rough few years.”
“I figured that. Arthur, before you go up to see him, can we talk?”
“Of course, son.” Arthur sat down in the armchair Ben indicated.
“Can I get you a drink? I bought some black tea.” Ben grinned a little apologetically at the stereotype. “It’s called breakfast tea. I don’t know why. Donnie kept asking for it at the hospital. He told me you got him into it recently. So I thought I’d buy some.”
“A cuppa would be great, Ben, thanks.”
Ben went into the kitchen and put water in the brand-new kettle he’d also purchased, so he could give Donnie this simple treat whenever he wanted it. While the water boiled, he got the milk out of the fridge. Ben was pleased that he remembered it had to go into the cup after the hot water, not be served on the side in a little pitcher. He carried the tea and a cup of instant coffee for himself through into the living room. As he placed the mugs on coasters on the coffee table, he suddenly remembered something else.
“Do you want sugar? I forgot to ask, sorry.”
“No, son, that’s alright. This is lovely, thank you.” Arthur picked up the mug and inhaled the aroma, smiling. He took a sip, then asked, “Donnie is still in bed?”
Ben nodded. “For now, yeah. I was gonna bring him down and
park him on the sofa. But he was really wobbly when I got him up to use the bathroom earlier, so I left him upstairs. It’s quieter there, and he can really use the rest. The car journey yesterday was hard on him.”
Arthur nodded, his face creasing in a frown. “How will you cope, Ben? You’ll have to go back to work soon, surely?”
“I’m taking all my family medical leave. I’ve got three more days before they expect me back. And if he needs me to stay at home longer, or work shorter hours, then I’ll figure something out.”
Arthur beamed. “Donnie was so scared to tell you about the HIV. I told him there was no need to worry. Seems I was right.”
“There’s still a lot I don’t know, isn’t there?” Ben asked. Arthur hesitated, so Ben added quickly, “I’m not asking you to tell me all Donnie’s secrets. Whatever else there might be, I’m with him. I’ll not leave him. And there’s no rush, we’ll go at his pace. You’re his AA sponsor, right?” Arthur nodded, and Ben smiled. “Good. He couldn’t ask for a better one.”
Arthur’s smile widened. “I’ve been telling him that one day he’d meet someone like you. He just laughed at me. Donnie doesn’t think he deserves to be happy, you know.”
“Well, he does.”
“Indeed, son, indeed. Did Donnie tell you how he came to the center?”
Ben nodded. “Some of it, at least.”
“He’s my miracle, you know?” Arthur said. “When my wife died, I thought my life was over. I thought nothing could ever mean anything again. I just tuned out the world, lost who I was and what I knew in a bottle. For the longest time, I didn’t understand why I had been given the strength to fight my way back out of that hole. Now I know. I had to go as low as it’s possible to be to reach others who’re down there, too.” Arthur smiled, tears in his eyes. The old man’s face glowed with the memories. “Donnie… that he got to where he is now, that’s a miracle. He made it out, and now he’s getting his reward, and that’s the greatest gift of all.”
Ben couldn’t speak for a moment. Hearing someone say these things about Donnie made him feel proud of this man he hardly really knew but who had already claimed his heart. They needed a change of subject, or Ben would completely lose his cool.
“How did you end up in Atlanta, Arthur? Donnie never told me.”
The corners of Arthur’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “My wife Bess, rest her soul, was a botanist. Quite famous, actually. Wasn’t the usual thing in our generation, you know? Women scientists, clever ones, they stuck out. We were living in Bath, in Somerset. The city of Atlanta, and the university, were just getting serious about the botanical garden, and they hired Bess as a guest lecturer and project consultant. Somehow, we ended up staying.”
“Did you never want to go back?” Ben asked.
Arthur’s eyes grew thoughtful. “Not seriously, no. We had no children, so we weren’t ever nostalgic for them to see the motherland. All I ever wanted to do was teach English and support Bess, and I could do that here just fine. When Bess died, I thought about it for a short while. But somehow, being an old drunk in Bath seemed even more depressing than being an old drunk here.”
“The community center’s lucky you stayed,” Ben said quietly. “And Donnie.”
Arthur beamed at him, his eyes bright with fondness and memories. Then he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Alright, enough tragic history for one day. Was there something else you wanted to talk about, son?”
“Oh, yes,” Ben said, trying to collect his thoughts. “Donnie is very worried about the pain meds they gave him. They really were necessary. He was out of his mind with the pain. I’ve never seen anyone in agony like that.” He shuddered and wiped his eyes again. “And he’ll still need the codeine pills sometimes. He’s been okay so far today, but I’m worried he’ll refuse them too soon. He doesn’t trust himself not to get addicted to them.”
Arthur leaned forward and put a hand on Ben’s arm. “I’ll tell him it’s okay to keep taking the meds. There are things he can do to avoid getting too fond of them. He’ll understand. He just needs a bit of encouragement.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, grateful for the reassurance. “There’s one other thing I was hoping you could help us with. It was the Retrovir, one of Donnie’s HIV meds that made him so ill. But he said the program that’s helping him pay for his medication won’t cover any alternatives.” Ben looked at the old man intently. “I do actually need you to tell me one thing, Arthur. The first time we met, Donnie said he’d been to the DFCS for an appointment with the Medicaid team…”
Arthur nodded. “He was refused.”
“I don’t understand,” Ben said, frustrated. “He needs antiretroviral treatment, or he’ll really get sick. It’s in the government’s interest to help those who can’t pay for meds that keep them healthy, isn’t it? That must be cheaper than dealing with lots of sick people with no insurance?”
“You’d think,” Arthur sighed. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Let me make a few phone calls. Donnie’s circumstances have changed. Maybe they’ll reconsider.”
“Why isn’t he covered through work?” Ben asked. It had only just occurred to him that this was strange. “I guess the community center’s care plan isn’t amazing, but it must be covering the basics, no?”
Arthur looked surprised for a moment, then understanding dawned. “Of course, why would you know? Ben, Donnie isn’t an employee. He’s a volunteer.”
“But he’s there all the time!”
“We pay for his gas, and he can eat and shower at the center, and even sleep. Which he does sometimes, when Floyd…” Arthur paused, shaking his head. “But never mind that now. Ben, none of us draw a salary. The center gets some donations, and I do my best by them, I swear! We hardly cover the running costs. The daycare is for children who have nowhere else to go. Their mothers are street workers, or homeless. They can’t pay a penny. Many are HIV positive, too, moms as well as kids.”
Ben nodded, feeling proud of Donnie again and sorry for him at the same time. “I can see why he would want to work at the center, that’s just his thing. But Donnie’s great at what he does. He’d easily get a paying job. Why, then…,” Ben hesitated, belatedly realizing that he was criticizing both Donnie and Arthur in his ignorance.
Arthur looked suddenly sad. “Why isn’t he out there going for job interviews? Ben, he’s scared. He’s terrified that an employer will demand an HIV test, scared that it’ll come out somehow.”
“But no employer is allowed…,” Ben interrupted, indignant.
“I’ve told him that, many times. But he’s worried he could infect other people, especially kids. He knows all the facts, Ben. He understands the disease and the law. But he can’t help it. He feels so powerless, and it scares him out of his mind. I have to talk him out of quitting at least once a month.”
“My god,” Ben said softly. “Poor guy.”
Arthur nodded. “I shouldn’t really have told you all this, but I’m hopeful for another miracle.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s got you now. Maybe you can make him see that he’s not a liability to us, but a gift.”
“YOU GOT A visitor,” Ben said to Donnie, who was dozing on the sofa. Donnie opened his eyes, looking confused.
“What? Who?”
Ben motioned the woman to come closer. “Stacy has some paperwork for you to sign.”
Stacy Miller, holding a thick folder crammed with papers, came into the living room and smiled at Donnie. “Hi there. Good to see you’re on the mend. I hear you gave everyone a fright.”
“Hey, Stace! Didn’t know ya made house calls.” Donnie looked at Ben inquiringly. “What’s all this?”
Ben grinned and pointed the woman toward the armchair Arthur had sat in a couple of days ago. “Sit down, Stacy.” She did, holding the folder in her lap.
“Think you can sit up for a few minutes, buddy?” Ben asked Donnie, who nodded.
“Sure.” He pushed himself to sitting, winci
ng a little. Ben sat down and pulled him close so he could lean against his chest. Donnie still tired quickly, and sitting upright sometimes made him feel nauseous. He now relaxed against Ben with a sigh and gave a small, grateful smile as he looked up at Ben. Ben returned it.
“Feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Donnie murmured. “This is good.”
“Arthur asked me to come by,” Stacy said and took some papers out of her folder. “Actually, he wouldn’t stop talking until I said I would. He can be quite persuasive.”
“Yeah, he can,” Donnie said, grinning. “But why he make ya drive all the way out here?”
Ben answered. “I played scary cop at the hospital and got your doctor to write a statement about the Retrovir and what happened when you took it. Arthur sent that to Stacy, and Stacy resubmitted your Medicaid application, together with the new statement.”
Donnie’s eyes widened. “Ya did that, for me?”
“Yeah,” Ben said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t have done it behind your back, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case it didn’t work.”
Donnie’s gaze was still on him, with an indescribable expression, like he’d never look away again, like he couldn’t even fathom Ben was real. “Ya did it, for me?” he said again. “Ya could get into so much trouble, scaring that doctor. Ben…I…” He twisted around until he could put his arms around Ben. “Nobody’s ever been—thanks, Ben…I…,” he stammered, words muffled against Ben’s neck.
Ben hugged him back, relieved that Donnie wasn’t angry. “You’re welcome, buddy. I’m just glad you’re not mad at me for poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Donnie pulled back and looked at him in disbelief. “Mad? For ya being nice?” He looked down for a moment, and some color started creeping up his neck. “Love ya, Ben,” he said very quietly.