Less Than Perfect Circumstance

by Kristofer Clarke

  I thought I saw movement in my father’s lifeless body, but that was probably just what I wanted to believe. My imagination was playing tricks on me. Marvin didn’t approve of many of the things I did, or some of the choices I made, but he never questioned me until Patrick came into the picture.

  There was something about Patrick Telly McKay that Marvin DeGregory just didn’t like. He never mentioned what it was, and I couldn’t figure it out, no matter how hard I tried. Even if I knew, I had my reasons for not giving my father’s concerns a second thought.

  Patrick had his good days and his bad. Unfortunately, his good days never last too long, and his bad days somehow never seemed bad enough to drive me away. We went days without speaking, but it wasn’t long before I would swallow my pride, give in, and call him, or accept phone calls I vowed, in anger, I would ignore. I loved Patrick, though there were parts of him I despised. As much as I hated to admit it, I often missed him. I wanted Patrick, and every attempt to ignore him was extremely painful. I did convince myself, however, that the longer we went without interacting, the easier it would be to get over him, and move on.

  “No matter how much time I spent ignoring him, what I felt for him never changed. He knew that although we weren’t together, he still meant a lot to me. It didn’t matter what he had done, I still wanted to be with him. I was making good progress, dad, and when he saw that, he…”

  A knock on the room door interrupted my conversation with my father.

  “Sorry to interrupt, sir,” the nurse announced.

  The overly pleasant Nurse Prescott, who I had watched go in and out of my father’s room, returned once again to check on him.

  “I’ll be out your way in a minute.” She winked and busied herself with tending to her patient.

  “No rush,” I responded. I sat in a chair and positioned myself so I was facing his father. “Is he ok, Nurse?” I asked.

  “His blood pressure is still high, but he is stable. The medications to unblock arteries seem to be doing well. Don’t look so worried, son. Your dad will be ok.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be back later to check on him. If you need anything, I’m right down the hall,” she said, pointing to the red button just above my father’s bed.

  Seeing my father lying there, helpless, made my heart weak. I thought back to my childhood, and although I couldn’t remember much, the good things I did remember made me smile. I remember seeing my father sitting in the front row of the auditorium at Michael D. Fines Elementary School during my 3rd grade recital. I thought about the night Dane and I celebrated our thirteenth birthday at Mount St. Christian Hospital. I remember getting sick three days earlier and being rushed to Mt. St. Christian. I had been looking forward to celebrating my birthday with friends, but that wasn’t going to happen. As he had done on his previous two visits, my father stood in the doorway with balloons in one hand and a big gift in the other. He walked over to the bed, kissed my forehead and said, “Happy birthday, son!” When my father’s muscular frame was no longer blocking my view, my mom, brothers, sister, and a few friends packed the room, and even though my 16th and 21st birthdays were a blast, this was the best birthday I’ve ever had. Marvin had his moments of exposed emotions, and this was one of them. I had no doubt my father loved me.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  The sky had darkened. The florescent lights illuminated the waterfall at the entrance of the hospital.It was a spectacular view from my father’s room. I had lost track of time talking to himnot that time was important. I had a few minutes before Rian and Lena’s return, and although I hated the feeling, I felt as if I was running out of time and had to use it wisely. I pulled the chair closer to my father’s bed, sat with one leg crossed over the other, held his hand, and sighed. I laughed as I thought about the irony of sitting there talking to my father, knowing he wouldn’t have chosen this if he had a choice. A heart to heart with my father was next to impossible.

  “I gave Patrick so much of me that he knew exactly what to do to keep me around. I had gotten in deeper than I had intended. Maybe I should blame you for how I treated him.”

  I sat again in silence. At times I stroked my father’s head, other times I just sat there, seemingly happy to have had the moment. I had missed those moments. We allowed decisions I madedecisions I couldn’t controlto force a wedge between us. I could shoot myself in the foot for not fighting harder to maintain a relationship with my father.

  The door opened slowly. Whoever it was tried hard not to disturb what was happening.Rian could have been standing there for a long time but I was too focused on Marvin to pay attention. As I turned to acknowledge the intruder, Rian walked over and rested his hand on my shoulder.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Ok, I guess. I haven’t seen any change since, but the nurse says he’s stable.”

  I stood to hug Rian. I noticed Lena standing outside the window watching us console each other. She waved and smiled before entering the room.

  “So, how are you holding up?” she asked as she entered.

  “Hoping for the best, expecting the worse, I guess,” I responded, loosening from Rian’s embrace and looking down at Marvin.

  “You know your father better than I do. But from what I’ve seen, he’s a fighter. I know he doesn’t give up easily, so I don’t expect him to give up on life.” She paused. “You shouldn’t give up on him, either.”

  “But what if he doesn’t have a choice, Lena? What if this time he doesn’t have a say in how this ends?”

  “I don’t have all the answers, Dexter. We’re all hoping for the best.”

  “Look, bro,” Rian interjected. “It’s been a long evening. I know you haven’t eaten, and mom is worried about you.”

  “Mom knows I’m ok.”

  “Listen, Lena and I will stay here. Dad’s not going anywhere. He’ll be here in the morning. Go shower, get some rest, and we’ll see you later.”

  I walked over to my father.

  “I love you, pops. I’ll see you tomorrow.”I kissed him on his forehead and then whispered, “We’re not done talking.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, DADDY

  Trevor

  The drive back home from Ace of Spades was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet. Robert and I had spent the evening doing what we agreed we needed to do more often. I was enjoying my father’s company and didn’t allow my mind to focus on some of life’s trivial things. We talked about everything, and it seemed our night had brought us closer to exhaustion. Robert was quiet. He yawned, closed his eyes, and then smiled.

  “What are you thinking about with that big grin on your face?” I asked.

  “How did you know I was smiling?”

  How could I not? It wasn’t exactly pitched black outside. The streets were lined with lights that illuminated my father’s seemingly ageless face as we passed them one after the other.

  “Are you going to tell me?” I nudged at him to get a response.

  “So, you took my advice after all,” he spoke in a sleepy voice.

  “I didn’t actually take your advice, old man. I didn’t lose my touch with the ladies. I’m just not interested in them, and I certainly don’t want to put myself in the position of leading them on.”

  “O.K., young pimp,” Robert replied, his face staring into the night.

  “Actually, on my way to the restroom, I overheard a conversation Sidney was having with an old couple. She had just moved here from South Florida and was pursuing her Masters degree in Linguistics. We talked for a few minutes and I invited her to drink with us if she had time.”

  We drove, again, in silence for a few moments longer.

  “I wish I could have more moments like this,” I broke in.

  “If you allow yourself to, you can.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Once my father was settled and had already fallen asleep in one of the upstairs guest rooms, I k
issed him on his forehead and then walked downstairs and outside to retrieve his work clothes from the car. When I got back inside the house I realized how late it was. I was looking forward to a long, hot bath, and a nice sleep, knowing that for the first time since Kelvin’s visit, I wasn’t in this big house alone.

  While we were out, I had missed several phone calls and had a few messages waiting for me. I had purposely turned off my phone while I was out spending time with my father. Damien had left a message apologizing for not calling, and according to his message, he was having phone issueswhatever that meant. Denise left an invitation to an Art Exhibit and dinner with her and Toni on Saturday. After deleting the messages, I carefully rested the cell phone on the bathroom floor. With one foot in the Jacuzzi, the message indicator on the phone sounded.

  Message received 11:25. I glanced at my watch on the countertop. I had missed Kelvin’s call. Ignoring the time, I dialed Kelvin’s number. After the second ring, there was no answer. I hung up and threw the phone on the bathroom floor, but before my body was completely submerged underwater, the phone rang.

  “Who’s over there?” Kelvin asked.

  Unfortunately, Ihad unknowingly relinquished my rights to any privacy when I fell in love with him. Kelvin was now completely involved in his new relationship, yet he still felt he had the right to question me like he did.

  “Well, good evening to you, too,” I responded, ignoring his question.

  “How are you doing?” Kelvin asked almost in rhetoric.

  I thought about the many ways I could respond to his inquiry.

  “I’m doing well. I really can’t complain.”

  I didn’t think Kelvin was ready for the truth, so I gave my usual response. Actually I could complain, but what was that going to change? Recently when I foundmyself spilling my guts to Kelvin, he would only sit in silence. When he listenedif he listenedhe only heard half of what I had to say. I would keep talking, hoping what I was saying wasn’t being said in vain.

  “I just called you. Why didn’t you answer? Who’s over there?” Kelvin was very demanding.

  How unfair. It’s not that I couldn’t ask Kelvin the same questions he asked, but I already knew the answers. Although I didn’t feel the need to explain myself, I entertained the questions nonetheless.

  “I didn’t answer the phone because I was on it.”

  “Who were you talking to at this hour?”

  “I wasn’t talking to anyone, Kelvin. I was checking my messages. You could have called the house phone.” I shook my head, appalled by Kelvin’s audacity.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a bath,” I said with attitude.“I was out having drinks with my father.” Why the hell am I explaining my doings and whereabouts to this man? I thought.

  “Where’s he now?” Kelvin asked, sounding as if he really cared; as if he didn’t believe my answers to his questions.

  “He’s upstairs, sleeping.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “What did you want, Kelvin?” My question surprised me as it fell from my mouth. “Is everything ok?”

  “Everything’s fine. I was just thinking…” He paused and then continued. “Are you mad at me?”

  I thought about our last conversation and how so much of what I wanted to say was kept to myself. Here he was giving me the opportunity to say what I had held inside for so long. A big part of me wanted to tell Kelvin that I knew everything. An even bigger part wanted to give Kelvin the chance to tell me the truth. I didn’t want to lose respect for him, but the longer he pretended, the easier it was going to be.

  “I wouldn’t say I’m mad. I’m just trying to deal. It’s hard but…,” I was interrupted.

  “Deal?”

  “Yes. Deal with us… with you…with…,” I paused. “We’ve existed only in my head for some time now, Kelvin.”

  “So are you’re trying to avoid me? Are you willing to lose me as a friend over us not being together?”

  What does he mean trying to avoid him? I thought.

  “I guess I could ask you the same question. I called you back and you never answered. And to answer your question, no, I don’t want to lose you at all. I’m not going to pretend this is easy.”

  “Ok. Well, I will give you space. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  “I’m not asking you for space, Kelvin. Talking to you doesn’t bother me. But you can’t expect me to go from being your lover to being your friend just like that. And if I think that not talking to you all the time is going to help me move on, then I owe myself that. I love you, Kelvin. Honestly, I do. I respect you and the fact that you’re in a relationship. I give you the same respect I demanded when we were together. I just want you to know this isn’t easy.”

  “I understand,” Kelvin said.

  “No, I don’t think you understand.”

  I wanted to tell Kelvin everything I knew, but I was still giving him opportunities to admit to his own wrongdoing.

  “I’m trying to be here for you.”

  “If calling and asking me who’s at my house, and thinking that I intentionally ignore your calls are your ways of being there for me, then I guess I need to say thank you.”

  “Listen, Trevor. I’m not going to argue with you.”

  “Then don’t,” I said sharply.

  “Have a good night. Love you,” Kelvin said.

  “Are you sure it’s me you love?”

  “Goodnight, Trevor.”

  I didn’t respond.

  I sat tight-faced in the hot tub. I was supposed to be relaxing, but every muscle in my body was tense. I would have been very happy just hanging with my father, meeting Sidney, coming home, taking my bath and heading to bed. Kelvin’s phone call had changed everything I had planned. Everything I avoided thinking about today was suddenly brought back to my attention.

  As I thought, I felt the tears rolling down my face. I thought it might have been the steam, but as it rolled past my mouth, its salty taste confirmed otherwise. I had gotten to know those tears so well, and I did nothing to hold them back. I found myself crying more easily than I had known myself to. My thoughts went from Kelvin to Jackson. I was missing him, too.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Son, are you ok?”

  “I’m fine.”

  My answer was drowned in tears. Robert knew better. When he opened the door, my eyes were redder than the evening sun setting over the Pacific Ocean.

  “Was that Kelvin?”

  “Yes. It was.”

  “May I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Robert walked in and sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi. He began to stroke my head as he had done so many times when I was younger. I could only imagine how it pained my father seeing me, his son, like that.

  “You know you can’t allow him to keep doing this to you. For your own sanity, you need to let him go. So other things can fall into place for you, so you can experience love with someone else, you really need to let Kelvin go. I’m not telling you that you have to stop loving him, but you need to put that love aside and focus on loving you.”

  “I know, dad. I just don’t know how.”

  I couldn’t understand my own words.

  “I know you. You’ll figure it out. You know this isn’t right. After the day you’ve had, your night should not be ending like this. There’s no way you can like how you are feeling right now. I don’t know what he said that has gotten you all bent out of shape, but he knows that your heart still belongs to him. You have to give yourself the time and space you need to heal. Yes, moving on is easier for some than others because some of us find all the reasons why we should hold on, instead of focusing on the reasons why we should let go. And, son, as hurtful as this is going to sound, he has already let you go.”

  I closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the tub. For a moment, there was silence. Even through closed eyelids, the tears never stopped.

  “I love you,”
Robert said, breaking the silence.

  I didn’t respond. I tilted my head away from him and stared into the sky, hoping to be taken away. Robert walked towards the bathroom door. He grabs the doorknob and opened the door quietly.

  “Dad, he doesn’t know that I know,” I said, interrupting my father’s exit.

  “What doesn’t he know that you know?” His hand still held firmly to the doorknob.

  “He doesn’t know that I know about Lawrence,” I said. I closed my eyes and the tears fell again down a familiar path down the sides of my face. “He doesn’t know that I know about…Lawrence,” I repeated in a soft voice.

  “You’re not making any sense, son.”

  Robert closed the door and stood leaning against it. He folded his arms across his chest, looking like the detective her was and waited for my admission.

  “I’m listening,” he continued in a pressing tone.

  “Kelvin was too exacting and calculating, so of course, I had my suspicions when he revealed one night over dinner that his relocation request had been approved. He had never mentioned a desire to move anywhere anytime soon.”

  Robert stood with his eyes focused on me, his ears listening to every word as they fell from between tears.

  Lawrence had written a letter to Kelvin on the stationary from a Days Inn on Hilton Head Island, S.C. The letter was neatly written and signed Lawrence Cousins.

  It’s like you haven’t left, the letter claimed. In the letter, Lawrence thanked Kelvin for a weekend he would never forget, and anticipated many more weekends such as that when he finally moved there. Apparently Lawrence had been patiently waiting for months. The letter was dated, coincidently, around the same time Kelvin was supposed to have been on a business trip in San Francisco.

  “I don’t understand why you just don’t tell him.”