Love Comes Silently(Senses 1) (4 page)

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Hanna asked.

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in my studio if you need anything,” Ken said, and Hanna nodded, returning her attention to the television. Before leaving the room, Ken picked up Hanna’s art case from the hall and placed it near the sofa. She’d been watching a lot of television in the hospital, and Ken was hoping to entice her back to the things she’d always loved before she’d gotten sick. “Don’t forget the picture for Dr. Pierson,” Ken told her softly.

“I won’t,” Hanna answered, and Ken left the room, walking down the hall and out to the small room that had been added onto the house by the previous owner.

Mark sat on the old sofa the movers had placed against the one wall, a sofa Ken had never moved. There were still boxes that had never been unpacked and canvasses leaning along the other wall. Ken hadn’t painted in months; his heart and mind hadn’t been in it. He’d been fully occupied with Hanna.

“Sit down, Ken,” Mark said as he stood up, and Ken sat on the edge of the sofa. “I’m not quite sure how to say what I need to say,” Mark began as he wandered slowly through the room. “Things aren’t working between us anymore. They haven’t in a while,” Mark said, and Ken stared at him as he moved. “You’ve been taking care of Hanna, I know that, and you needed to. I don’t begrudge her your attention. But even before she got sick, things weren’t particularly good between us. We slept together and lived in the same house, but we’re moving in different directions.” Mark’s voice trailed off, but he continued pacing the room.

Ken opened his mouth to deny what Mark was saying, but he couldn’t, not really. He’d been living at the hospital almost constantly for months, and though he’d called Mark every day, in two months they hadn’t talked about anything other than Hanna and how she was doing.

“You know I’m right, and I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Mark continued.

“I know,” Ken finally managed to say. “You never did anything hurtful the entire time I’ve known you.” Ken sighed, wondering if there was anything he could say. “Why did you move with us, then?”

Mark stopped pacing and sat down next to Ken on the sofa. “I honestly thought that things might change between us once we moved. We would be working together to set up our new home, making new friends together. I really thought building a new life in a new place would bring us closer, like we were right after you got Hanna, but it hasn’t worked, and I don’t think it will. Circumstances got in the way, and I don’t think our relationship is reparable. Do you?”

Ken thought about it for a long time and then shook his head. “You’re probably right,” he whispered. Ken had honestly thought Mark was the man he’d spend the rest of his life with. Ken had been in the early stages of adopting Hanna when he met Mark, and he’d been supportive and loving through the ups and downs of the entire process.

“Don’t get me wrong. I love both you and Hanna and I always will. But I’ve been giving this a lot of thought over the past few months, and to be honest, we probably would have had this conversation a while ago if it hadn’t been for Hanna getting cancer. I couldn’t have this talk with you then, and I’m trying to not be a dick about things.”

“What are you going to do?” Ken asked, feeling both hurt and a bit relieved. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Mark was probably right. It was time they got on with their lives, and while that would have once meant working through everything together, now it meant going their separate ways.

Mark humphed softly. “Kenny, we’ve drifted apart to the point where you haven’t even noticed that most of my things are already gone. I have an apartment in town, and I’ll move the last of my things out later today.”

“Is there someone else?” Ken asked, and Mark shook his head.

 

“I’d never do that to you or Hanna, you know that,” he answered with a touch of hurt in his voice, and Ken nodded. “I do know that. You’re a good man, you always were,” Ken began. “I’m going to miss you, and so is Hanna.”

“I’m going to miss you too. I’ll still be in town, and we can still see each other and talk. I want us to be friends, and I still care about both you and Hanna. I just think it’s time we look at things logically and make a break of it before we come to resent and hate each other, and we will. You need all your efforts concentrated on your work and Hanna. I need to start building my own life.” Ken felt Mark’s hand slide into his. “I do love you, Kenny, I probably always will, but this is for the best. I think we’ll both realize it pretty quickly.” Mark let go of his hand and walked toward the studio door. “I’m going to load the last of my things into the car and say good-bye to Hanna. Maybe in a few weeks, we can all have dinner together or something.”

“Okay,” Ken answered, standing up himself.

“You’ll see that I’m right,” Mark whispered before leaving the room. Ken stayed where he was, glancing around the empty studio, waiting for the hurt and rejection to hit, but they didn’t. At times like this, he’d normally feel the need to paint, but that didn’t materialize either. Ken closed the door behind him as he left the studio, walking through the house until he heard Mark softly talking to Hanna. Leaving them alone, Ken went into the kitchen to start something for their dinner, but he didn’t really feel like doing anything at all. Eventually, he heard footsteps and knew Mark was getting the last of his things. Ken joined Hanna in the living room. The television was off and she had a pad resting on her legs as she colored, her tongue sticking out slightly between her lips as she concentrated.

“What are you doing?” Ken asked, sitting next to her on the edge of the sofa. He half expected to be bombarded with questions, but Hanna kept working.

“I’m drawing a picture for Mark,” she explained without looking up, and Ken watched her for a second. She didn’t ask him anything, so Ken stood up and sat in one of the nearby chairs. Mark came into the house and walked down the hall and up the stairs, returning a few minutes later with his suitcase.

“I’ll call you in a few weeks,” Mark promised as he headed for the door. After setting down the suitcases, Mark walked over to Hanna, saying good-bye to her before kissing her forehead.

“This is for you,” Hanna said, handing Mark the drawing. “So you don’t forget Daddy and me.”

Ken blinked away the tears that threatened as Mark thanked Hanna. “I could never forget you, munchkin.” Hanna threw her arms around Mark’s neck, giving him a hug. “Things didn’t work out between your daddy and me, but that doesn’t mean either of us love you any less.” Then Mark stepped away and looked at him. Ken took a deep breath and gave Mark a hug.

“Take care of yourself,” Ken whispered before releasing Mark and watching his lover and partner of almost three years leave the house for the last time. Ken closed the door behind Mark and then walked back into the living room. He refused to allow himself to do anything as maudlin as watch his car drive away for the last time.

“Daddy, does this mean Mark isn’t your boyfriend anymore?” Hanna asked, her eyes widening.

“Yes. That’s exactly what it means,” Ken explained with a sigh. Mark was probably right. They had been drifting apart for a while, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the loss or the loneliness. He might not have been with Mark while he was spending those long hours at the hospital, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t missed him or wasn’t comforted simply by the fact that Mark was there. Now he and Hanna were alone, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Maybe he wouldn’t know for quite a while.

“I’m gonna miss him, Daddy,” Hanna said softly, her lips quivering slightly.

“I know you will sweetheart. So will I. But you still have me, and you’ll always have me, no matter what,” Ken said as he tried to hug away the fear he saw in her eyes.

“Promise?” Hanna asked,

“Yes, I promise,” Ken said. He and Mark wanted different things from life, and while Mark hadn’t necessarily picked the best time to leave, him hanging around for Hanna’s sake was only going to make Mark unhappier and wasn’t going to help Hanna’s recovery, which was the most important thing. “I’ll never leave you, ever.”

Hanna remained quiet for a long time and then moved out of Ken’s embrace. “Will you get another boyfriend?”

“Maybe someday,” Ken said with a slight snort, wondering just how much boyfriend material there was in a town like Pleasanton. Marquette had to have a gay community of some type, but that was most likely dominated by college students. “Right now, I’m going to work on helping you get well,” Ken said, changing the subject. “I’m going to try to figure out something for dinner. Why don’t you draw me a picture?”

“I will if you will,” Hanna said, and Ken smiled.

“How about if I turn on the heat in my studio? You could move in there, and I could start putting things away.” Ken needed to keep busy. Over the past two months, he and Mark had unpacked most of the house a little at a time. Maybe it was time he unpacked his studio and considered getting on with life. He needed to try to get some semblance of normality back for both of them. “Let me get the room warmed up, and then you can sit at one of the easels if you want.” That got him a grin, something Ken hadn’t seen as much as he liked over the past few months, and seeing that expression again was worth all the worry and exhaustion he’d been through.

Ken had left the room and was walking back through the house when the doorbell rang. Ken pulled the door open and saw their neighbor standing on the stoop holding a casserole dish. He simply smiled and extended his hands, covered by oven mitts. “Thank you,” Ken said and motioned for him to come inside. His neighbor looked around and then took a tentative step inside. Ken closed the door. “That smells wonderful.”

“Daddy, is that macaroni and cheese?” Hanna called, and Ken heard her scurrying toward him, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Ooooh, my favorite,” she said as she smiled up at their neighbor, and Ken saw him grin at Hanna, a gorgeous smile that extended all the way up to his eyes.

“The kitchen’s this way,” Ken said, wondering why their neighbor was being so nice and why he was so quiet. He obviously wasn’t shy, or he would have stayed away. “That smells wonderful,” Ken commented appreciatively as he placed the dish on one of the stove burners. “Would you like to join us for dinner?” Ken asked, but their neighbor shook his head and quietly headed for the door. Ken followed and opened it for him. “Thank you so much, again,” Ken said and watched in near total confusion as the man hurried away down the walk and then along the sidewalk toward his house.

“Are you hungry?” Ken asked Hanna after closing the door.

“I guess,” she answered, but Ken found her standing near the dish of macaroni and cheese. He got her a small plate as well as one for himself, and they sat together at the table eating a sumptuous feast. After they’d both eaten way too much, Ken turned on the heat in the studio before cleaning up the dishes. Then he and Hanna moved into the warm room. Ken set her up with an easel, and then he began unpacking mobile metal racks and then his painting supplies, putting everything away in the exact spot he wanted it. When he was working, Ken often lost himself in his art, searching for supplies by feel more than sight when he got engrossed in his work.

By the time Ken had unpacked everything, he considered trying to work, but Hanna was tiring, and he didn’t want her overdoing it, so he made sure everything was where he wanted it before quietly stepping to where she was working. “What are you making?”

“It’s a picture of you, Daddy,” Hanna said before lifting the drawing to show it to him. It really did look like him. The hair color was right—light brown with a touch of blond here and there. She had reproduced his blue eyes and even the slight crookedness to his nose from where he’d broken it as a kid. Her eye for detail was pretty amazing for someone so young, and being able to transfer that to the paper was even more impressive.

“It’s wonderful,” Ken told her. “Let’s pack up and we can get you a little something else to eat before bed.”

 

“Mac-cheese?” she asked, and Ken smiled as he nodded.

Hanna gathered her things, and Ken put a small bowl of the macaroni and cheese in the microwave for her, careful not to get it too hot. When she joined him in the kitchen, Ken got her settled in her booster chair at the table, and she ate while he puttered. Ken wasn’t hungry, so he kept busy, and once Hanna was done, he shooed her upstairs for a bath.

It took Ken longer than normal to get Hanna bathed and into her pajamas. He had to be careful of the port near her shoulder that they used for her treatments, and he couldn’t help treating her with kid gloves. She was all he had, and he’d almost lost her, or at least that was how he felt. Mark was gone, so it was just him and Hanna now. “Let’s get you into bed, and I’ll read you any story you like.”

“
Madeline
?” Hanna asked as she scurried into her room. By the time Ken wiped up the bathroom and came into her room, Hanna was already under her covers, grinning up at him excitedly as he found the book and began to read. Ken barely made it halfway through the story before Hanna’s eyes began to close, and by the time he finished, she was sound asleep. He made sure she had her doll before turning off the light and flipping on the tiny butterfly nightlight on the far side of the room. After partially closing the door behind him, Ken finished cleaning up the bathroom before getting ready for bed himself. He’d spent months taking care of Hanna in the hospital, and now, when the house was quiet, he was at loose ends, and he wished he had Mark to talk to. Before Hanna had gotten sick, they would sit up and simply talk, for hours sometimes, about anything and everything. At least that was how it had been once, but that was a while ago. Ken sat on the edge of the bed, looking over at the side where Mark had always slept. Even his pillow was gone.

Ken blamed himself. He’d taken Mark for granted. He’d loved Mark, but he’d also expected him to be there when he needed him. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to him…. He knew it was his fault, and that Hanna’s illness was just the straw that had broken the camel’s back. Mark hadn’t left because of Hanna; Ken never thought that for a second. Mark loved his daughter. Mark had left because of him—that was the only explanation. Mark was gone, and whether Ken was right about why or not, that didn’t change anything at all. Ken turned out the light and slid under the covers, staring up at the ceiling, playing “what if” recrimination games with himself until he finally fell asleep sometime in the wee hours of the morning.