Focus on Me

by Megan Erickson

  “It’s an intensive program, but we think it’s what’s best for Riley. He’ll be cared for and watched around the clock. He’ll have therapy sessions and doctors on hand full-time to help him establish a medication plan.”

  I looked at Riley again. “He’s worried about being medicated.”

  “They know what they’re doing in here, son,” Glen said.

  Shit, this hurt. It hurt way more than I thought it was going to. I hadn’t realized how hard this was going to be. I wanted to walk away before he woke up. Get this done quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid, but I knew that wasn’t in store for me. This was going to be slow and painful and I’d feel every hair as it was ripped out of my skin. “Guess we need to wake him up, then.”

  Beth stepped toward the car and I gently grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry, but could I wake him up? Please. He doesn’t know you guys will be here, and . . .”

  Her chin wobbled, and she stepped back immediately. “Of course, of course. I’m sorry, I’m just so eager . . .” Her gaze drifted back to Riley, like she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  I understood the feeling.

  Bile was crawling up my throat as I walked around Butch to Riley’s door. I swore I was going to get sick in these perfectly manicured bushes in front of SkyHope. Every cell in my body wanted to hold Riley close, never let him out of my sight. I wanted to be all he needed, but that was some fairy-tale bullshit. He needed help. Real help. And I had to be man enough to step back and make sure he got it.

  I took a deep breath and eased open the passenger door. I stuck my hand in and caught Riley’s head before he fell out of the door. He snuffled and his eyes blinked blearily. “Col . . . ?” he queried softly.

  I opened the door the rest of the way and hugged him to my chest. “Right here.” His arms came around me and clutched my shirt at my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes, breathing in Riley and relishing the warmth of his body against mine. I wasn’t sure if I’d feel it again.

  I pulled back and gripped his face. “Catwalk, I have to talk to you, okay?” His eyes were already drifting over my shoulder, taking in the large building behind us. “Riley, focus on me, please.”

  His gaze snapped back to me, and I kept his head turned so he didn’t see his parents. “Do you trust me?” I asked.

  He swallowed, his gaze darting all over my face. “Wha—”

  “Do you trust me?” My voice cracked. Fuck, I didn’t want to do this.

  Riley’s lower lip trembled. “You know I do.”

  I blinked rapidly so I didn’t lose it right there. And I went for blunt. “I called your parents, Riley.” His eyes widened and he jerked his head back, but I was prepared and held on. “Focus on me, Riley.”

  He did, but he looked like a cornered animal with wide eyes and flaring nostrils.

  “They love you, Riley. And they want what’s best for you. You said you’d accept help, right? You promised me that on the pier.”

  He was shaking; I could feel it beneath my palms. “I promised,” he whispered.

  “Well, they got you into this place. It’s called SkyHope and there are people here who know what they’re doing. They can help you—” He jerked again, and I held on. “They can help you.”

  His chest rose and fell and he clutched my wrists. “I thought you said you’d stay with me.”

  “I said I wouldn’t leave you, and I’m not Riley. I’m still with you. I just can’t stay here with you.”

  “You promised—”

  “I’ll be right here, Riley.” I fisted his shirt over his heart. Then I patted my chest. “And you’ll be here. You’re it for me. I told you that. But in order to be together out here, you have to go in there. Alone. And get better.”

  It worried me the most that he wasn’t crying. Instead he just stared at me. I knew when he came to a decision, because his shoulders slumped and his eyelids fell shut, like he couldn’t keep them open anymore. “Okay,” he whispered.

  “Don’t look like this is giving in,” I said. “This is actively doing something to be healthy, okay?”

  He nodded, but I didn’t think he believed it. I felt a heat at my back, and I looked over my shoulder. Beth was there, her fist pressed to her mouth, tears falling down her cheeks. “Riley,” she choked out.

  He looked at her, and I saw a little life flicker in his eyes.

  All I wanted to do was clutch him closer. I wanted to press my lips to his. I wanted us to drive off with Dallas in the backseat. I wanted to pretend that Riley could be fine with just me and the dog.

  But he wouldn’t be. Loving him wasn’t enough to get rid of all the shit in his head. I wasn’t a cure. And I didn’t want to be responsible for taking away his best chance at saving himself.

  I took my hand off of his face and walked backward away from him. Every step felt like nails in my soles.

  Beth wrapped her son in her arms. His arms came around her, and she whispered to him quietly.

  My heart wasn’t in my chest anymore. No way. It was in that broken boy in the passenger seat of my car. He was taking it into that stone building and there it would beat outside my chest. I didn’t know if I’d get it back. Maybe I didn’t want it. Maybe I wouldn’t feel the pain this way.

  I made the hand-off. I wasn’t Riley’s caretaker anymore. I should have felt lighter. But as I stood in front of Butch five minutes later, watching Riley walk through the glass doors with his parents, I could barely breathe from the weight sitting on my chest.

  Riley turned around and looked at me over his shoulder. The fluorescent lights shone off of the bronze in his hair. I waved. He waved back.

  And then the doors shut behind him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I blinked my eyes at the sun streaming in through my blinds. I squinted at them. Blinds? Since when did I have blinds? My bedroom window faced the back of the house, and the morning sun shot right into my bedroom. I’d put up blackout curtains in high school and they’d been there until now. Somehow I had blinds now, but I hadn’t noticed last night.

  Something jingled and I looked down at the floor. I’d thrown a bunch of blankets in a pile for Dallas and he’d plopped down immediately. He’d been sulking since we dropped Riley off. I knew the feeling.

  I patted the bed and Dallas stood slowly, then walked toward the bed with his head down. “I know, boy,” I said softly. “I miss him, too.”

  Dallas placed his front paws on the bed. I scratched his ears. He hopped up onto the bed beside me and then flopped down with a huge sigh.

  I rolled onto my back and stared at my ceiling, running my fingers lazily over his short fur.

  I’d always loved coming home. I loved my bed and the privacy of my own bedroom. I loved my mom’s breakfast and my dad’s quiet pencil scratching as he completed the crossword in the newspaper. I loved the sounds of my family waking up.

  I especially loved that floorboard right outside my door that creaked when someone stepped on it. Because that’s how I knew to turn my head to catch nosy sisters.

  Through the crack in my open door, I saw a single blue eye. “I heard you and now I can see you,” I said.

  The door pushed open and Jess stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. She scowled. “I hate that floorboard.”

  “I love it.”

  She walked into the bedroom and hopped onto the foot of my bed on her knees. “How are you?”

  I opened up my mouth to say “Fine,” because that’s what I always said. My life had been so simple once. No drama. Nothing to get worked up about. Then I’d met Riley. But I wouldn’t change any of it. “I’m not so good,” I answered honestly.

  Jess’s face softened. “I’m so sorry.”

  I shrugged. I’d gotten in yesterday and had given Jess and my parents a brief rundown of my trip home. It was hard to put into words. I wasn’t a storyteller. Everything sounded crazy because they weren’t there. They didn’t know how I felt about Riley, and how he felt about me, and how this whole situation was
killing me.

  I turned my head away to stare out of my window. “When the hell did I get blinds?”

  The bed shook as Jess plopped down beside me on my queen bed. “She said your curtains were ugly.”

  I frowned. “They served a purpose.”

  “Don’t look at me. Mom did it.”

  I sighed and turned my head to face her. Her blond hair was pulled up into a knot on her head. She wore a pair of pajama shorts and an old T-shirt of mine from high school. “If I succeeded in getting him help, why do I feel so sick to my stomach?”

  Jess touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth and furrowed her brows. “I think . . . I think you’re looking at it so black and white. You didn’t really succeed or fail. You just did what you thought was best. You’re so hung up on your failures that I don’t think you see that sometimes you have to fail to set yourself on a different path.”

  I blinked. “What does that mean?”

  She traced her finger over the pattern on my comforter. “You’re so hung up about failing out of college, but maybe you had to get out of there to do something else. Maybe you just weren’t meant for college. That doesn’t mean you’re a big, fat failure.” She propped her head on her hand. “Do you think you would have given Riley a ride if you hadn’t have been on your last trip home?”

  Hindsight was twenty-twenty, but . . . “Probably not.” I would have been eager to get home, save my money. Hell, I might not even have lingered at that gas station at all.

  “You made a difference in his life, just like he made a difference in yours. You have to quit keeping this tab in your head of what you lost and what you won. Because then you miss the journey.”

  Dallas placed his head on my hip and I gripped the fur at the back of his neck. The journey. Not sure I’d give up the Grand Canyon or dancing in the Laundromat, or our first kiss. I’d never give up watching Riley goof off in Oinkers. What a journey it had been. And no matter what happened, no one could take that away from me. “You should go into counseling or something instead of journalism,” I said quietly.

  She laughed softly. “It’s because I love you. It’s because I see in you what you don’t see in yourself. You’re the best person I know, Colin.”

  I rolled my eyes and shoved her.

  “Hey, I’m trying to have a touching moment here. Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

  “Thank you, my dear sister.”

  It was her turn to roll her eyes.

  “Okay, so now I need to pee, Dallas needs to pee, and I’m hungry as hell for one of mom’s omelets.”

  Jess hopped off the bed. “You deal with the bladder situation, and I’ll tell mom to crack some eggs, okay?”

  I smiled as she stepped on the creaky floorboard outside my room.

  ***

  I smelled the eggs cooking as soon as I walked in the door with Dallas at my heels. In the kitchen, my mom stood at the stove with her back to me. She wore her pig apron; I could tell from the pink straps tied at her back. She turned around and gave me a brilliant smile. “Hey, sweetie. I’m almost done with your eggs. I already set your coffee on the table.”

  Why the hell I’d thought going to college was better than here, I’d never know. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and then took my place at the table beside my dad. He wore his reading glasses, his head bent over his crossword. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and an old T-shirt that we sold at Patty’s years ago before we had the logo redesigned. My dad had a full head of white hair, and I hoped I inherited that rather than go bald early. I did inherit my father’s eyes and his build. He’d played football, too, although only in high school because he blew out his knee senior year.

  I took a sip of coffee as he asked, “What’s a seven-letter word for ‘detoxification’?”

  I set my coffee down slowly. Sweating your ass off. “Cleanse.”

  He frowned and scratched at his paper, then his face lit up. “Perfect.”

  My mom dropped my plate in front of me and stood with her hand on her hip. “The way you like it, cheddar cheese, ham, and green peppers.”

  I grinned at her. “You’re so good to me.”

  She smiled, her light green eyes on my face. Her cheeks were rosy from standing over the stove. She wore a pair of pig pajamas under her apron, and they seemed to fit a little more snug than last time I’d seen her. We ate a lot of bacon in this house. She ran her hand over my hair. “Glad you’re home.”

  I picked up my fork. “Good to be home.”

  As she walked away, I picked out a stray piece of ham and fed it to Dallas, who sat beside my chair.

  “No feeding the dog at the table!” my mom called over her shoulder.

  I looked at my dad. “She’s still got eyes in the back of her head, huh?”

  He sighed heavily. “Mmm-hmm.” He crunched on a strip of bacon. “So did you think about when you wanted to start work? And what you’d like to do?”

  I swallowed a bite of omelet. I missed this. “Figured I’d start right away. And it doesn’t matter, wherever you need me the most.”

  My dad folded his hands in front of him on the table. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

  Shit, I just wanted to enjoy breakfast, and Dad was getting all mushy on me. “Dad—”

  “I am. I don’t care about school. You tried and it didn’t work out, and that’s okay. We’ve always wanted you back here anyway, helping out with the family business. I just . . .” He looked down at his hands. “I want to make sure this will be enough for you. That you’ll be happy.”

  I reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. “It’s enough. It’s more than enough. I love the business, and I missed you.”

  He swallowed and nodded. “Good, and you’re not too far from SkyHope, so you can visit your young man.”

  If he even wanted me to visit. I wasn’t thinking about that yet. “Sure.” My dad smiled and then went back to his crossword.

  I shifted the eggs around on my plate. I knew I was fortunate to have parents as accepting of my sexuality as mine were. I knew from a pretty young age that I was into guys. We’d always been an open family, and so I’d told them, not thinking it was such a big thing. And they hadn’t made it a big thing.

  And then I began hearing other people’s coming-out stories and realized that it could, indeed, be a really big thing.

  My parents loved me and wanted me to be happy. My mom told me she was saving up money so when I was married, I could impregnate a surrogate—no lie, those were her words—because she wanted Hartman grandchildren. We lived in a small town that ended up being accepting of me because our family had such a prominent standing in the community. We weren’t rich by any means, but Patty’s barbecue was a staple in Plymouth, North Carolina.

  I was happy here, and I could be myself here.

  I wouldn’t trade what I learned in college and on the road back and forth to California. But maybe I had to fail to find out where I was supposed to be.

  The only problem was this little hole in my chest. Sometimes it was a dull ache and other times it was a piercing pain. I knew it was Riley’s absence, and I hoped that over time, it faded. I hoped it began to heal when I heard his voice again, when I saw he was healthy. Until then, this was my life. I’d smile and I’d be Colin, but inside, I knew I could never go back to the easygoing guy I was before. Not when I knew what it was like to care so much.

  Chapter Twenty

  Three weeks later, I wasn’t happy anymore. And that hole in my chest had gotten bigger and bigger, reminding me that I’d left my damn heart back at SkyHope with Riley. It’d just taken me this long to realize it.

  It’d been three weeks since I’d seen Riley. Three weeks since I’d heard his voice. Three weeks since I’d had any sort of communication at all. And that communication had been handing him off to his estranged parents as he entered an in-patient treatment facility because he almost killed himself.

  If I hadn’t lived through it, I wouldn’t have believed that was my l
ife.

  I’d called SkyHope after one week, which was when his parents said Riley could receive calls, but I’d been told he was unavailable. I tried every day after that for a week. Unavailable. Then every other day. Unavailable. I e-mailed. I sent letters. I did everything I could to get ahold of him. I tried not to take it personally. I tried to tell myself he was focused on getting better. But as each day went by, that hole in my chest got bigger and Riley’s face in my head got fuzzier.

  I finally broke down and called his parents. They were surprised, because they said they’d been talking to Riley almost every day. When I told them he wasn’t answering my calls, their silence told me all I needed to know.

  I was pretty fucking miserable.

  So I worked.

  Patty’s was a small restaurant on the main road of Plymouth. The building was small—our restaurant only seated about fifty people—but we had a huge kitchen. Our biggest source of income was takeout. Dad had recently installed a drive-through that made it even easier.

  We had a couple of barbecue smokers out back and a couple of acres that could be rented out for private parties. Hell, we’d even done a wedding one time—although that was the last time since the bride ended up punching the maid of honor because she’d slept with the groom, and then we’d had to replace a lot of furniture that got smashed.

  So . . . no more weddings. We did a lot of company picnics, though.

  When I was in high school, I helped run the register and occasionally cook. Now when I was home, I tried to complete odds and ends that didn’t get done when everyone else was busy.

  I fixed a cracked step on the front porch at Patty’s. I scrubbed the ovens inside and out. I painted the trim and cleaned out the gutters. It felt good to be hands-on and see the immediate improvement at the restaurant.

  I was still pissed, though. I swung the hammer a little too hard and stomped up the ladder angrily. I hated feeling like this, but I didn’t quite know how to change it. Well, I did—I could change it by hearing Riley’s voice—but I was done tracking him down. Completely done.