When Irish Eyes Are Sparkling

by Tom Collins

  “What’s that mean?”

  I tucked Oliver’s Walkman CD player, spare batteries and the audio book he was listening to right now, which I’d gotten for him, in the middle of the clothes for safety. He couldn’t stand reading, but he loved being read to, so I’d gotten him Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land for those times when he wanted to “read,” but I was already occupied with drawing or painting.

  “It means you’ve been with Jillian for two years without coming close to breaking up, never even had a serious disagreement, while I’ve had six—no, seven, relationships in that same time and I’ve driven all of them away. I just wish I knew what’s was wrong with me that’s right with you.”

  “Why is it you and not them? Isn’t that what they mostly say, ‘It’s me not you?’”

  “Odds, Bren. How likely is it that the one static element in all of these broken relationships is me, but it’s always a problem with them that ends it?” I yanked the suitcase’s zipper closed.

  He didn’t seem to have an answer to that.

  It occurred to me when I saw the book sitting on the nightstand that I’d never get to finish reading Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? to him. I still didn’t even know how badly Oliver was hurt. The nurse wouldn’t tell me since I wasn’t a relative.

  The weight of everything that had happened since sunset bore down upon me of a sudden and I sank to the bed, the bed on which Oliver had held me through so many recent nights. He’d held me just as if he cared, maybe even loved me. I’d thought he did until a week ago, but now I wasn’t sure of anything. I pulled his pillow out from under the covers, curled around it, breathing in his scent and tried to pretend that I was asleep, and would wake to a world that still made sense.

  Brendan’s weight shifted the mattress as he lay down and spooned against my back like we used to sleep when we were little. It was something we still did when one of use was hurting. In the past couple years, since meeting Jillian, I’d been the only one who needed this sort of comforting. Brendan held me tight, giving me all the love I should ever need, but for once it wasn’t enough. This time, I wished there were someone else lying at my back, breathing into my hair and telling me everything would be fine, not in lieu of, but as well as my other self.

  Everything wouldn’t be fine. I’d begun to fear there was only one person in the world for us, and I’d missed out because I’d chosen the crayons. Then there’d been Oliver out of a clear blue sky and he’d seemed to understand us, to get us on a level only Jillian ever had. Nothing would ever be fine again. I’d tried my hardest and still wound up driving off my Jillian, I knew it, and no one could ever replace him.

  We lay there for I don’t know how long, Bren giving his love and me taking it, but he couldn’t begin to fill the gaping void in my chest.

  It was the thought of how uncomfortable Oliver would be in the dignity-robbing gowns the hospital makes people wear that finally got me moving again. I was careful to rewrap and replace his toy and erotic movie, and just as careful in replacing the nightstand as it had been. I didn’t want him feeling violated when he got home from the hospital. I was grateful the neighbor was gone when we left. That was about the only thing I noticed about the trip back.

  I came out of my mental cocoon as we were walking into the reception. Seeing Sandy and Dom standing with my uncle snapped me back into the here and now. Her eyes flicked between the two of us, trying to tell which was which, who was who. Her face was a mask that revealed nothing, not even surprise. I figured she must have already been in to see Oliver and he’d told her everything. No doubt, she blamed me for her son’s injuries, but she couldn’t hate me for it as much as I did.

  “Hi,” I said as we stopped in front of them. “I got him some stuff to make him more comfortable and some clothes for when they release him.”

  Dom took the suitcase.

  “Thank you, Liam,” Sandy said kindly and glanced away. I saw tears glimmering in her eyes. Her mouth tightened as she fought them. “I really appreciate this, and I’m sure Oliver will as well.”

  “No problem. This is Brendan.” It was the least enthusiastic introduction I’d ever given him, but I thought he would understand under the circumstances. “Bren, this is Sandy and Dom, Oliver’s mom and step-dad.”

  The three shook hands, exchanging the required, social niceties.

  “Can I…is he…still refusing to see me?”

  Sandy eyed me with pity and I didn’t know what to make of that. “Let’s go talk for a moment, okay?” She directed me into the waiting room, leaving Dom with Gabe and Brendan. Jillian and Erin were in there watching CNN and arguing over the pros and cons of whatever the news anchor was on about this time. They always took the news so seriously, unlike Brendan and me. I introduced them as well, and they offered their sympathies to Sandy. She thanked them and guided us to a quiet corner.

  “Will you at least tell me how he is?” I blurted. “The nurses won’t tell me anything. For all I know he’s…” I could even let myself think the worst. That might make it true.

  “He’s not too bad, considering,” she assured me. Considering my childish reaction to an impending breakup had gotten him thrashed, she meant. “He’s got a lot of bruises and his ribs are giving him enough pain to make breathing difficult. His knee was hyper-extended, though there was no permanent damage, so he’ll be in a leg brace for a couple weeks until the sprained tendons and ligaments have healed. He needed four stitches to his forehead and they say he has a mild concussion, but that he should be OK to go home tomorrow or maybe the next day. They’re keeping him overnight for observation.”

  “So, he’s gonna be okay?”

  “In a week or so, yes,” she said, matter-of-factly, and I began to see why Oliver adored this woman. She looked me in the eye when she told me all this and said it plainly, no shilly-shallying about it. No anger or condemnation either. It was a little like talking to a Vulcan, which was comforting in a strange way.

  “The…muggers took his wallet,” she added, “Which was found in a garbage can, ID and credit cards intact, only the cash gone. They also took the watch.”

  Shit. The watch.

  “I did see him,” she went on, “He’s on painkillers and not real coherent, but he mentioned that he’d been in a bad fight with you. I don’t know any of the details, but I do know this: the reason he doesn’t want to see you is because he can’t face you just yet.”

  “It’s not because of the fight,” she added even as my heart crashed through the floor. “It’s because of where he ended up tonight. How he ended up. It’s hard enough for him to face me.”

  She was trying to remain steady, but I saw her hands tremble. I caught them and held them steady in my own.

  “So,” I swallowed, “he really was—was in that part of town to…to—” I couldn’t say it. He could have had me at the back of the pub—fuck it, anywhere, anytime, and any way he wanted. Instead, he left me and ran off to—a glacial shiv slid through my breastbone and pierced my heart.

  How could I have been so wrong when I pegged him as an honest-to-God White Hat, faithful and trustworthy even to the end?

  “I don’t know why he was there, but I doubt he’s unfamiliar with that part of town,” Sandy said bluntly and I saw how stressed and tired she was.

  “Sandy,” Dom appeared. The suitcase was gone so he must have handed it off to a nurse. “They’re moving Oliver now to the second floor, a regular room. He’s still out and probably will be for a while. Do you want to go up and sit with him?”

  “Yes. I should be there when he wakes,” she confirmed, which made me envious.

  I wanted to be in Oliver’s room, watching over him, getting him drinks and plumping his pillows, reading to him, but he’d made it clear he didn’t want me here and fighting it would only make it worse. If I remembered that earlier, Oliver wouldn’t be in the hospital right now, so it stood to reason I didn’t deserve to be there.

  “I ought to be going as well,” I manage
d, getting to my feet. I waved to my family, who were now clustered together at the other end of the waiting room. “Thank you for talking with me.”

  “How not?” Sandy managed a faint smile.

  “Thank you,” Dom said earnestly and squeezed my shoulder.

  I headed out with my family around me. Strangely, the one thing that kept echoing through my head was Sandy’s lack of shock. This woman knew Oliver better than anyone and she hadn’t been the least bit amazed where and how he’d been found. Disappointed and afraid, of course, and as shaken as any mother would be, but not disbelieving as I’d been. Did he have a history of running off to fuck strangers in dark alleys after fighting with his boyfriends?

  Maybe, I reflected as I walked down antiseptic smelling halls, I didn’t know Oliver. Maybe I hadn’t known him at all.

  Even so, he took my heart with him to the second floor.

  *Oliver*

  There’s some axiom about not being able to get a good night’s sleep in a hospital. I drifted in and out, more weary from the hurt to my heart than to my body. Nurses came in to give me sips of water, pain pills, to check my vitals and deal with other bodily functions that I couldn’t yet move to deal with on my own.

  Sandy had come, and I could remember, as in a hallucination, babbling something to her about fighting with Liam. I don’t know if I was thankful or not that I couldn’t fully remember. I did recall feeling her warm tears falling on my hand.

  It was early morning when I came fully awake and aware. I’d been moved to a regular room, that’s what I noticed first. The second thing I noticed was Sandy, seated by the bed with her notebook and calculator. That was comforting; time and again I’d seen her at the kitchen table or on the living room couch working away. Sandy was one of the managers at a hotel and she was always figuring schedules, maintenance, costs and other numbers. Seeing her like that was like having a touchstone. I could feel myself relaxing, and yet—

  And yet I still wanted Liam to be there. Not instead of Sandy, but in addition. Every time I woke, I looked for him, expecting to find him sketching or reading. Each time, my heart dropped anew when I remembered why he wasn’t there and wasn’t going to be.

  “Hey, Kiddo,” Sandy’s warm voice brought me back. She’d put aside her work and taken hold of my hand.

  “Hey,” I couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Dom here?”

  “I sent him to the hotel room.” Sandy got free rooms at hotels that were part of the chain she worked for, so I didn’t feel too bad about that. I was glad there was a way for them to be with me without too much hardship.

  “He’s like you. Needs his eight hours.” She leaned over, brushing back a lock of hair from my brow. Her eyes softened and I feared she’d cry. “Damn it, Oliver. I am so mad at you, I could spit.”

  She said it quietly. Sandy didn’t yell often. When she did, I deserved it. In spite of Sandy’s selective memory, I had not been the perfect son. There’d been days when I’d been one huge pain in the ass and caused her a lot of grief.

  Like now. “I really did it to you this time, didn’t I?”

  Her lips pressed together. “You’re lucky you’re alive. Jesus, Oliver, if you’d died…I-I wouldn’t have forgiven you. But you didn’t, and I am relieved. Very, very relieved.”

  I heard the underlying message. Yes, I’d been royally stupid, and no, I was not allowed to go into a tailspin of self-recrimination over it. She still loved me.

  “Liam came by,” she added, and I felt my pulse spike. “He very considerately went to your apartment and brought back some necessities. He’s gone now, but he looked almost as bad as you do—without the bruises. It wasn’t very kind of you to exclude him.”

  A very motherly reprimand, that. I felt my cheeks go hot. “I can’t—I—”

  Unlike Liam, she didn’t say anything more; she simply waited, letting me form the words.

  “I can’t face him yet, Mom. I know it’s wrong, but I just can’t.”

  “That’s what I thought, and that’s what I told him. It’s still not right. Your partner, Gabriel, by the way, filled me in a little. I don’t know why you find him so daunting. He’s such a gentleman.”

  I almost snorted at that. Gabe was, and would be, all courtesy to a grieving mother.

  “He mentioned that you’d gotten a surprise last night at the pub?” she pressed.

  “You could put it that way.” I gave her a précis of how I’d learned Liam had a twin.

  She looked amused. “I can understand. I was warned by Gabriel, but I still felt bowled over when I saw the two of them coming down the hall. They’re a pretty impressive sight. So what happened after that?”

  “I don’t—I’m not—there was a fight. Liam has told Brendan everything I’d told him about myself, everything about us. I reacted badly. Then he reacted badly and it all got out of hand. I ran off and ended up in that part of town. I won’t lie. I’ve…cruised before, but not this time.”

  She didn’t look shocked by my revelation, just unhappy.

  “You suspected?” I murmured, my gut dropping.

  “I figured, yes,” she admitted. “I mean, you’re a healthy young man, and you’ve only had two relationships before Liam that you mentioned to me…” She shrugged. “I thought you might be doing something like this in between. I only hoped you were being careful.”

  “I was, Mom, I swear. Not that it matters.”

  At that moment it really hit me how all this might look to Liam. After the way I’d attacked him, he had to be doubting me. Given where I’d been found, he’d also be doubting our entire relationship. Never mind that I hadn’t actually done anything with anyone last night. He had every right to question and worry about whether I’d been true to him, or gone cruising on my days off, while he was working at the pub. Had I fucked him over before now?

  God, please shoot me! I’d certainly done my father proud, hadn’t I?

  “What should I do?” I whispered. “I really screwed up with Liam and I—I didn’t want to. I’ve never…cared for a man as much as I care for him. Is there anything I can do to fix this?”

  “All things change…but truth lives on forever.”

  I moaned. “No fair quoting the Lone Ranger Creed.”

  She shrugged. “Honesty usually is the best policy, Kiddo. I wish I could tell you that Liam will be kind with those bullets of truth and not aim them back at you, but I don’t know. Sometimes, you take a chance and end up badly wounded.”

  That shook me. I sometimes forgot that Sandy had suffered her own terrible, emotional and psychological wounds. When I did remember, I usually felt guilty, as it was my father who had metaphorically shot her.

  As she often, uncannily did, Sandy read my mind. “I don’t regret the chance I took on your Dad. I met my son by taking that chance, didn’t I? Even bad relationships can have unexpected benefits.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes.”

  The nurses came in and Sandy stepped out while they embarrassed me. At least they helped me to change into some scrubs Liam had thoughtfully put in my suitcase. Those made me feel better, armored. Also sick to my stomach, because Liam had been so merciful when I didn’t deserve it.

  I ate some bland tasting breakfast under Sandy’s watchful eye then drifted off to sleep again. When I woke around noon, Sandy wasn’t there.

  Gabe was.

  “Your mom’s off having lunch,” he told me; then, when I just stared, “You didn’t think you were going to be able to keep me out like you did Liam, did ya?”

  “I…no sir,” I murmured. Actually, knowing Gabe I’d half-hoped he’d wait until I was out of the hospital before beating the crap out of me. I suppose he didn’t feel I’d was worth even that much consideration. I’d not only failed his nephew, I’d failed him.

  He raised a critical, auburn brow. “You look like shit,” he told me frankly. “They really tap-danced on you.”

  “Yeah, and they weren’t real light on their feet.” I swallowed in a dry throat, hurting in more th
an just my bones. “You don’t have to request another partner or ask that I be transferred,” I said to get it out of way. “I’m quitting the program.”

  He frowned. “Quitting?” He held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “You’re this close to getting your paramedic’s license.”

  “I know.” Fuck, my lip quivered. I bit it. “I know. I know how ridiculous it might sound, but how I ended up in here is something that’s going to stick and follow me around, and I don’t want to walk into work with that hanging over me.”

  “What? Like some scarlet letter?” Gabe crossed his arms and snorted. “What’s sticking is that you were the victim of a hate crime. That’s all. I checked in at the barn this morning and most are focusing on that rather than you being in Westmore. In fact, they’re ready to set torches ablaze and go looking for the culprits. You and me are the only ones aware of how fucking stupid you were. So why let this derail your future?”

  My dream, I thought, shaking my head. I had no answer, save that I felt that I’d disgraced the job.

  “What’ll you do then?” he demanded.

  I shrugged.

  “And what about Liam?”

  “I’m not hiding from him,” I said as sincerely as I could manage. “I only want to face him on my feet.”

  “You got tired of picking up after him, didn’t ya?”

  “What? No—”

  “Come on,” Gabe said mockingly, “Connor’s eight and he’s more responsible. Be honest, you couldn’t take Liam’s addle-brained stupidity any longer. You lost your patience with it and with him.”

  That made me mad. He could come at me all he liked, but Liam hadn’t earned any of it.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Liam’s the smartest, most imaginative man I’ve ever met…and he’s never irresponsible when it comes to taking care of me, like making me lunch or bringing my things to the hospital. It’s only when he’s lost in his head, being creative that he needs some…some looking after, and it’s never any trouble. It is—was a privilege.”