Ellen blinked, but otherwise remained motionless.
Dan waited two heartbeats before asking in a strong voice, “Ellen, are you okay?”
Ellen rose. “I won’t be a minute.” She left the room, leaving Dan alone with his coffee and cake.
A few minutes later she returned with a large brown envelope. She handed it to Dan; it was addressed to him.
“Vinnie gave me this,” Ellen said. “In addition to our monthly phone calls, we’d meet occasionally—usually during the holidays, behind his father’s back. About three months ago Vinnie asked to meet me, and when we did, he gave me this envelope. He said I should give it to you if anything were to happen to him. It upset me at the time, and I asked him to tell me what it contained, but he wouldn’t. He told me it was work related.”
Dan stared at the thick envelope, then at Ellen for a moment before prying open the sealed flap. Out slid legal documents. Dan flipped through them; a rapid read gave him the gist.
“There are two sets of legal documents,” he explained to Ellen. “One is Vinnie’s last will and testament, which appoints me as the executor of his estate. The other is a medical guardianship, in which he names you as the sole guardian. But in case you are unable or unwilling, he appoints me.”
“I’m confused. Does it mean I make decisions about him, or you?”
Dan took a few seconds to respond. “It says you make the decisions unless you would rather not. Then it falls to me. Frankly, I would prefer you do it. Vinnie’s your son.”
Without warning, Ellen burst into tears. Dan felt terrible. He had just informed a mother she’d be making life-altering decisions for her child—or very possibly ending it, if it came to that. He let her regain her composure a bit before speaking again.
“Ellen, this has to be done quickly. Will you approve Vinnie’s discharge into the care of my friends Ben and Joe? Do you understand what this means?”
With each last sob, Ellen sat up a little straighter. Each exhale seemed to give her strength. “I’ve done nothing for too long,” she said. “All because my husband’s an ignorant homophobe. This stops now. I’ll need your guidance, but I’m taking charge. What do you think is best?”
“I think Vinnie needs private care.”
“Fine. I approve. Let’s go.” Ellen rose from her seat.
“That’s great, but we have to wait until tomorrow. There are papers and lawyers to deal with first. I’ll take care of all that. Can you meet me at the hospital at nine a.m.?”
****
Dan called Joe in the cab ride from Queens to Manhattan. Joe gave Dan a rundown of what would happen. Joe’s lawyer had already started the paperwork, and Joe would arrange for him to arrive at the hospital by eight a.m. The living will would be their trump card. Joe would put in a call to the medical supplier after he hung up with Dan, and would arrange to have the medical paraphernalia delivered tomorrow. He’d also let Ben know to expedite the room preparation. A private ambulance would transport Vinnie to the condo.
Joe asked Dan to fax Vinnie’s medical guardianship papers to both the lawyer and him, and to bring the original tomorrow.
Dan was pleased with Joe’s enthusiasm and preparation; the man seemed to be unstoppable.
Joe finished by giggling in Dan’s earpiece: “Honey, we have liftoff. Oh, I love those words, don’t you?”
Chapter 36
In-Patient Care
The early morning influx kept the twenty-foot revolving entry door at the Belgravia Incare-Z hospital twirling. Flanking the merry-go-round door stood two additional doors that swung inward to the large exterior vestibule. Ten feet behind the entry doors were a twin gang of automatic sliding glass doors to the interior lobby. And sandwiched between these two doorways stood Dan, waiting for Ellen.
He went outside as soon as Ellen exited the cab and stepped onto the curb. She took Dan’s extended arm. “Let’s pull together and do the best we can for Vinnie,” he said.
For the first time in years, Ellen went to meet her son not in some out-of-the-way place where they wouldn’t be spotted—but here, out in the open, with one of Vinnie’s friends. She’d always known her son was a good person, but somehow she’d allowed her husband to vilify him for being gay. Now, as she held Dan’s sturdy arm, Ellen had a new outlook. All that homophobia, hatred, and stupidity would stop. Now. Her husband would either change or he’d find himself kicked on his ass, out the front door, by a woman who stood five-foot-two.
Ellen waited next to her son’s bed, holding his hand, until Dan and Vinnie’s new nurse, Joe Malich, returned with additional paperwork for her signature. Her eyes were red and her heart pulsed in sync with the rhythm of Vinnie’s machines. She was no more aware of her surroundings than her son was.
Joe and Dan entered, and Joe handed over another form. “Last one, Ellen. Sign on both pages, please. My lawyer’s with BIZ’s legal, and they’re pains in the ass over minor details. But with this one, we’re done.”
Ellen signed the paper, and Joe headed out to give it to Nurse Betty. But first he turned to Ellen and said, “The hospital administrator may come down to ask you to reconsider. Please—don’t let him persuade you, please.”
To reinforce Joe’s words, Dan placed his arm over Ellen’s shoulders and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the VIP room intercom: “Joe will be more help to your Vinnie than Nurse. He’ll also help you—unlike the way you’ve been ignored here.”
“Don’t worry,” Ellen said with a sniffle. “This fuckin’ place won’t hold my Vinnie back if I have anything to say about it.”
Ah, thought Dan. The wellspring of Vinnie’s vocabulary.
****
Joe never left Vinnie’s side, from the hospital room to the ambulance and the journey uptown. Dan and Ellen waited, calm and composed in a coffee shop; Ben would call Dan’s cell when Vinnie was settled into his new room.
In contrast, Ben was sweating and anxious. He watched Vinnie wheeled to his room after he’d oriented the ambulance medical team to the condo layout. Ben swayed then stumbled. Joe was pretty sure he knew why.
“Yes, Joe, memories, déjà vu, whatever you want to call it. Seeing the techs lay out the plastic hoses and wires brought it back, and the flashing LED lights.” Ben took a deep breath. “Worst of all is the sound. The machines seem louder in this room than they did in Marianne’s hospital room. They’re so inhuman, aren’t they?”
Joe nodded.
“It’s like… like… Marianne is…”
Ben’s nightmare had been wheeled into his condo. Joe ushered Ben into the bedroom next door—his new room—and sat Ben on a chair. Then he called Dan. One patient at a time.
****
Ben looked around at the room’s cream tones, its king-size bed and its wall-mounted flat-screen TV. Across from him was the entrance to the en suite bathroom. Ben rarely came to this floor, and he spent little time in any of the five en suite bedrooms. And, he thought now, he’d be spending even less time on this floor as long as Vinnie was attached to the machines. His penthouse floor was more than adequate. Joe could manage with this floor’s smaller kitchen—smaller in comparison to the penthouse; it was still twice the size of what you’d find in most New York City apartments.
Ben could avoid Vinnie and Joe.
Standing, Ben caught sight of himself in a wall mirror. He was used to observing himself, checking on the progress of his physique. But today, a drooping face peered back, reflecting his regret at having made the offer to house Vinnie. In his zeal to help, he had acted in haste—possibly caused in part by his remorse after his exhibition disaster with Ginny and Dan. But whatever the cause, he had never imagined he’d be struck by the revival of suppressed memories.
Yet those memories from hell now screamed within him, and they spoke reality: This is a mistake. Vinnie’s going to die, and I will have given false hope to his friends and family. I’ll be drawn into their darkness again. I will relive my despair.
He felt trapped. Could he change hi
s mind? Tell Dan and Ginny this wouldn’t work? Send Vinnie back to the hospital? Or maybe pay for a temporary condo elsewhere—that’s what he could do. Move Vinnie far away. That’s what I should have done in the first place: rented a condo. Maybe there’s still time to make the change.
The doorbell rang. That would be Dan with Vinnie’s mother—but why? He hadn’t called them yet. They had come too soon. Well, it didn’t matter—now he could tell Dan that he’d changed his mind. He could suggest that alternative accommodation be found immediately. Better to do that before everyone got settled in.
But as he worked out his explanation in his head, Ben didn’t consider Ellen Briggs. As Dan began to introduce her, Ellen motioned for Ben to lean down. She was incapable of hugging even one side of Ben’s heirloom chest, so she balanced herself with her arms around Ben’s neck, kissed him on both cheeks, and spoke softly: “You’re a good man, Ben. You’ll be in my prayers forever.”
With her kisses and those words she had just signed a long-term lease on her son’s behalf.
“Can I see my Vinnie?” she asked.
“Follow me.” Ben walked slowly to Vinnie’s room, head bowed. Dan held out his arm for Ellen and the two strolled behind the hulk.
Ellen’s numbness prevented her from taking notice of the designer furniture lining the hallway, or the wall-mounted paintings, or the two homoerotic pencil sketches—original and very expensive. Weary from emotional upheaval, hospital paperwork, and legal interrogation, Ellen was stoic until she saw Vinnie—then she broke. Dan steadied her, and Ben brought a chair next to Vinnie’s bedside.
For five minutes, Ellen quietly cried. Then she stood, and Ben came over to her. His loose sweatshirt concealed his body the way a one-ton packing crate hides content but not the volume. Ellen stumbled, and Ben reached out, holding her forearm like a child holds a crayon.
“Are you okay? Please sit down, Mrs. Briggs.” As Ben lowered Ellen into the chair, his expansive chest nearly pushed her over. “I’m sorry about your son. I don’t know him, but he’s a friend of Dan and Ginny, so he’s my friend now. And I have to tell you, this gay-bashing attack makes me very mad, Mrs. Briggs.”
“Please, call me Ellen. I can’t thank you enough for your generosity. I don’t know how we can repay you. I want to help, too. I want to be part of my son’s life again.” Her shoulders slumped.
From the doorway, Joe spoke. He must have arrived while Ellen was crying. “Ellen, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you said. I’ve seen too many parents remain steadfast in abandoning their homosexual children. I’m sure your presence will help Vinnie.” Joe paused. “But I don’t want to give you false hope. The longer a person remains in a coma, the less likely they’ll recover consciousness. It does happen, but it’s rare. There are things in Vinnie’s medical chart that indicate he has a chance… but good is not a guarantee. I’m going to use all my magic and honey-making juice… and I’m fuck—uh, damn good, too. Ben, tell Ellen. Am I the best or what?”
The three men made no movement or sound; they knew Ellen had something to say.
Chapter 37
Mother Tells All
Ellen rose from her chair at Vinnie’s side and walked to a couch at the other side of the large bedroom, near a window. The three men followed. Ben took an armchair, and the other two reclined on a settee.
“I’ll never forget that day.” The men knew she was talking of the day Vinnie had been banished from the Briggs household.
He had just turned sixteen, she explained, so he hibernated in his upstairs bedroom with his computer games. On that day, Vinnie’s father, John Briggs, had called Vinnie for help. John’s buddies called him “Big John” because of his six-foot stature, his hefty girth, and his megaphone mouth. Vinnie flew down the staircase to his father’s call. Big John expected his family to respond immediately to his commands—anything less was unacceptable—so Vinnie had forgotten about his computer.
Vinnie moved two-by-fours from the garage to the basement while Big John went to his bedroom to change into his work apparel. Big John thought he heard someone in the boys’ bedroom—the room Vinnie shared with his older brother, Jack—John Briggs, Jr. Indistinct grunts pushed Big John to investigate.
On the computer screen, two naked men were dueling with their stiff cocks. Then one man stuck his hard penis up the other’s ass. Big John screamed, “What the fuck!”
The sting of the blow dazed Vinnie. Flat on his back, he looked up to see his father’s fist pulled back. Blood gushed from Vinnie’s nose. Big John’s voice boomed so loud that people in neighboring Nassau County must have heard it. Ellen ran from the kitchen to the garage.
Big John yelled, “You’re a goddamn faggot?”
He told Vinnie that there would be no queers in his house. Vinnie cried. His father called him a crybaby. Vinnie was hysterical and kept repeating that he was sorry.
By this point in her story, tears were falling from Ellen’s eyes. She wiped them away with a tissue handed her by Joe.
She turned her head toward Vinnie’s bed, then looked at each of the men, her hands clasped in her lap. “Vinnie admitted that he had been hiding his sexuality from us for two years. He begged for us not to hate him—to understand. But my husband could do neither, and he stormed out.”
Jack, Ellen said, found out about Vinnie that night. Jack was four years older than Vinnie, tall, and muscular. He used to love it when Vinnie asked him to flex. His face would light up, Ellen explained.
It wasn’t until after Vinnie’s banishment that Ellen learned, from Vinnie’s eldest sister, that Vinnie enjoyed watching his older brother masturbate. Jack had reportedly warned him, too: “No queers here.”
So on the day when Jack learned that his younger brother was gay, he beat Vinnie to a pulp.
“I bandaged Vinnie twice that day,” Ellen said, tears welling in her eyes. “I knew that Vinnie was not safe alone in that house.”
As they listened to Ellen’s story, Dan, Ben, and Joe shook their heads. They knew that Ellen was blaming herself. She thought that if she had only stood up for her son, Big John might have changed his mind.
“Deep down,” Ellen continued, “I think John was angry because he loved Vinnie more than he loved Jack. Jack is big and manly—he boxed—and he beat up most of the men in the gym. Both inside the ring and out, which is what got him into trouble. Jack’s in prison now for assault and battery with six months left on his sentence. Did you know that?”
Dan nodded yes. The other two shook their heads no.
“Crime is all Jack knows, sadly. Vinnie’s better than Jack. He’s smarter, better-looking, and a nicer person. My husband knows this too, but he won’t admit it. He used to be so proud of Vinnie, before that terrible day. A neighbor once told me how much John bragged about Vinnie’s high school grades. Jack did, too: he told everyone he had a genius little brother.
“But, in the end… Vinnie stayed with my sister until he finished high school.”
Ellen started to cry again. Joe brought her a fresh glass of water.
“Stupid men,” she said. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
“That’s always the case,” said Joe. “Stupidity is the root of all bigotry and hatred.”
Ellen mumbled, “So true.”
The rest of Ellen’s story took the men through Vinnie’s young adult period. He lived with his sister through high school, then attended Bennington College in Vermont on a full scholarship. “And I know he’s really made something of himself—thanks to you, Dan, and his job at DV&N.”
Joe sat next to Ellen, took her hands, and suggested she take a break.
She whispered, “I may not know who hurt Vinnie this time, but I know who did it all those years ago.” She removed her hands from Joe’s. “My husband will have to accept that I’m either going to be part of Vinnie’s life, or John can find a new wife. And I’m going to tell him right now. Ben, is there somewhere I can make a private call?”
The men sat with Vinnie in silen
ce until Ellen returned.
“He’s on his way.”
****
An hour later, Ben escorted Vinnie’s father into the room, without a word exchanged as Ben left the room.
John gave a quick glance to Dan and Joe on the sofa—there had been no introductions—and acknowledged his wife, who sat next to Vinnie. His eyes were fixed on the room’s central feature: the large hospital bed surrounded by machines, tubes, and monitors. Vinnie’s face was buried behind masks and tubes, but the bruises and blackening around his eyes were visible. John knew what had happened, but he couldn’t accept that this was his Vinnie in the bed.
“John, look at our son,” Ellen sniveled, tears flowing.
John moved to Vinnie’s bedside. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
All voices remained silent except Vinnie’s surrogate: Whump whump… whump whump. Beep beep… beep beep. Shoosh shoosh… shoosh shoosh. I’m here. I live. I don’t exist. Whump whump. Beep beep. Shoosh shoosh.
Ellen turned from her son to look at her husband, her face streaked with tears.
Finally John found his voice. It was choked with emotion. “Who—who did this to my boy?” He turned to his wife. “Oh Ellen, what have I done?”
No one answered.
Whump whump.
Beep beep.
Shoosh shoosh.
Ellen rose, took her husband’s hand, and guided it to Vinnie’s forehead. That’s when Big John lost control. Tears spilled from his eyes and his chest heaved. He made no attempt to wipe his face or suppress his sobs.
“I’m sorry, Vinnie. Forgive me.”
Ellen burst into tears.
Joe moved to Ellen. “It’s all right, dear, it’s all right. This is a step. Cry your eyes out. This is what love feels like. Hold on to me, sweetie, and let’s give Vinnie a kiss to let him know you love him.”
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