Less Than Perfect Circumstance (13 page)

PART TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Here we are, again

Dexter

I stood outside the room with one hand in my pants pocket, the other over my mouth, staring at the motionless figure that, unfortunately, was my father. Although Marvin has had similar scares, none required a hospital stay this long.  He certainly never needed the assistance of any machine to help him breathe. Usually Marvin was in and out of the emergency room with a to-do list from some heart specialist. When my mother came from the room, I was almost afraid to ask her what happened. Marv
in didn’t live a stressful life. H
e’s never smoked
,
and
he
had been following doctors
’ orders since his last episode;
at least that’s what Eleanor had told me. 

“Mom, what happened?” I asked, reluctantly.

“I’m not sure, son. He came home from playing his usual rounds of golf, walked into the kitchen to get something from the refrigerator and collapsed. When I came into the kitchen, he was lying on the floor; the pieces from the glass lemonade pitcher were all around him.

“Did he have any other injuries?”

“Nothing showed up the x-rays.”

I sighed in relief. Marvin’s old bones would have been
too hard to heal. I walked past
my father’s bed and stood facing the row of windows that made up the fourth wall in the room. As much as I wanted, I couldn’t bring myself too close to him. The child in me who needed his old man during my own accident, wanted
to leave without saying a word, but t
he man I was kept my feet planted. It pained me that my father never tried to understand
me or some of the choices I made
. It seemed none of the decisions I made were ever to my father’s satisfaction. Marvin DeGregory was not an easy man to please, and he made pleasing him even more difficult for me.

Facing my father, with the back of my head pressed against the wi
ndow, I realized how delicate he
seemed lying there, even though there was nothing delicate about him. Marvin was always a stern man. His voice was always powerful, and when it was unintentional, his softest whispers mimicked his loudest screams.

“I know my voice is probably the last you expected to hear,” I began. “I’ve been here for a while, sitting in the waiting area, waiting to have you to myself. Yes, I know it’s selfish of me. It’s been some time since we’ve spoken, and although I know you will pull through, I didn’t want to keep all of what I need to say to you until…”

I was again interrupted by those thoughts of my father dying, and I tried hard to remove them from my mind.

“You know, dad,” I continued, “a
ll along I thought maybe you just didn’t want to see me hurt, and that’s exactly what happened. Maybe you saw it coming.” I thought of how clairvoyant my father was, and it made me smile. “So much could have been avoided if some of the things you said in the background were said directly to me. At least we could have attempted to understand where the other was coming from.”

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 the
re were parts of him I despised. A
s 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 3
rd
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 16
th
and 21
st
birthdays were a bla
st, 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 fa
ther loved
m
e
.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The sky had darkened. The florescent light
s
illuminated the waterfall at the entrance of the
hosp
ital.It
was a spectacular view from
my father’s room. I
had lost trac
k 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
pulle
d 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 iron
y of sitting there talking to
m
y father
,
knowing
he
wouldn’t
have chosen
this if he had a choice. A heart to heart with my
fath
er 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 ha
d the moment. I
had missed those moment
s. We
allowed
decisions I made

decisions I
couldn’t control

to
force a wedge between us. I
could shoot m
y
self in the foot for not f
ighting harder to maintain a
relationship
with my father
.

The door opened sl
owly. Whoever it was tried
hard not to disturb wha
t was
happening.
Rian
could have been standing
there for a long time but I
was too focu
sed on Marvin to pay attention. As I
turned to acknowledge the intr
uder, Rian walked over and rested his hand on my shoulder
.

“How’s he doing?”

“Ok, I g
uess. 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 ot
her. She waved and smiled
before ente
ring 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.  “Y
ou shouldn’t give up on him
,
either.”

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

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

“Look
,
bro,” Rian interje
cted. “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
agree
d we
needed to d
o more often. I was enjoying my father’s company
and didn’t allow my
mind to focus on som
e of life’s trivial things. We
talke
d 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 k
now 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 kissed 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 mess
age, he was having phone issues

whatever that meant.
Denis
e left
an invitation to an Art Exhibit and dinner with her and Toni on Saturday. Aft
er 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 w
hen I
fell in lo
ve 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 wa
ys I could respond to hi
s inquiry.

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

I
didn’t think Kelvin was ready f
or the truth, so I gave my usual response. Actually I
could complain, but what was that going t
o change?
Recently when I
foundm
yself 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 answer
s. Although I
didn’t feel the need to explain m
yself, I
entertained the question
s
nonetheless.

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

“
W
ho
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 up
stairs, sleeping.”

“How’s he doing?”

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

“Everythin
g’
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 as
k 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. H
onestly, 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 togeth
er. 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 int
entionally ignore your calls are
your way
s
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
sa
t tight-faced in the hot tub. I
was supposed to be relaxing
, but every muscle in my body was tense. I
would have been v
ery happy just hanging with my
father, meeting Sidney, coming hom
e, taking my
bath and heading to bed. Kelvin’s phon
e 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
th
e steam, but as it rolled past
my
mouth, its sal
ty taste confirmed otherwise. I
had gotten to know those tears so well
, and I
d
id nothing to hold them back. I found
m
yself crying more easily than I had known
m
yself to. My
thoug
hts 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 Pacifi
c 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 ha
d 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 f
all into place for you, so
you can ex
perience 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, you
r
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 y
ourself 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
clos
ed 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 sa
id, 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.