Something Like Thunder (60 page)

Nathaniel rose to answer it. The moment he opened the door, something slammed into him. He knew the feel of that body, recognized the scent of his hair. Nathaniel sobbed and hugged him back. Kelly, in Texas, here in his arms.

“I was on standby all day yesterday,” he was saying, “and ended up in Georgia in the middle of the night, but because of some idiot calling in a bomb threat, I missed my connecting flight and had to—”

“Kelly,” Nathaniel interrupted. “Shut up.”

“Shutting up,” Kelly said, still holding him. “How is he?”

Nathaniel squeezed before letting go. “Come see.”

He walked down the hall, certain that Zero would be so excited to see Kelly that he’d forget he was sick, hop off the couch, and run right up to him. That didn’t happen, but he did bark once before launching into grumbling dog talk. Kelly went to him, kneeling in front of the couch and getting thoroughly licked.

“Marcello filled me in on the details,” Kelly said, moving to sit next to the dog. He glanced around the apartment before looking to Nathaniel with concern. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Do they know what’s wrong? Is there any sort of treatment?”

Nathaniel couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he picked up the business card from the coffee table and gave it to Kelly. The words describing the service were gentle, but their meaning was clear.

“No!” Kelly said.

“I know,” Nathaniel responded, “but look at him. He hasn’t improved at all.”

“Then you’ve already decided?”

Nathaniel opened his mouth, but was unable to speak.

Kelly appeared angry, but Nathaniel didn’t think it was directed at him. He’d felt plenty of anger in the last few days, hating the world for doing this to Zero. Mostly he just felt sad, which is what Kelly’s expression shifted to as he leaned over and rested his head against the dog.

“We need to think of what’s best for him,” Nathaniel said.

Kelly sighed and sat upright again. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing really. Maybe go to the store. Food is running low.”

Kelly continued to stare at him. “You look a little rough.”

“Oh.” Nathaniel tried smooshing down his hair. “I haven’t taken a shower since you last saw me. I didn’t want to leave him on his own.”

“Go take one now,” Kelly said.

Nathaniel hesitated. “He can’t potty without help. If he whines, I need to carry him downstairs.”

“I can handle it. Or I’ll drag you out of the shower. Right now he looks pretty chill, so go get yourself cleaned up. I’ll watch him. I promise.”

After a little more coaxing, Nathaniel left to take what was supposed to be a very quick shower. Once he was under the hot water, he let himself cry, his thoughts muddled. He felt purged by the time he shut off the water. When dressed again, he returned to the living room. Kelly had a tablet with him and was using it to browse the Internet.

He looked up and nodded his approval. “Much better. Now tell me what you need from the store.”

Quite a lot, as it turned out. He was glad to have help. Sheila had offered, but he knew she had her hands full with work and parenting. Marcello was an option, but he’d probably only bring back pâté, truffles, and one of the bag boys. Kelly had practically lived with him, and when he returned from the store—arms full of groceries—it was clear he still remembered which brands Nathaniel preferred.

By evening, Kelly was in the kitchen cooking a beef stew, the aroma mouth-watering. Comfort food. “Dinner time,” he said, walking into the living room with one of Zero’s bowls. “Better put him on the floor in case it’s messy.”

Nathaniel hoisted the dog up and placed him on the carpet.

Kelly set the bowl down, but much too far away. “Come get it.”

“What are you doing?” Nathaniel asked, taking a step forward.

Kelly held up a hand to stop him. “Let’s see what he does.”

“That’s cruel!”

“Maybe. Look.”

Zero raised his head, attention locked on the bowl of stew. He was pawing at the carpet with his good leg, but didn’t achieve much.

“Kelly—” Nathaniel said warningly.

Zero pressed his paw harder on the floor, then did the same with his head, trying to drag himself forward. He managed to shift, if only a fraction of an inch.

Kelly moved the bowl close enough that he could eat. “Does it look like he’s given up?”

“No,” Nathaniel admitted.

“Then don’t you give up on him,” Kelly said. “Not yet. We’re survivors. All three of us.”

“Okay,” Nathaniel said, his chest tight. “What are we going to do?”

Kelly walked over to the coffee table and picked up his tablet. “Get a second opinion.”

Nathaniel stared after him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Kelly turned around and smiled. “So am I.”

* * * * *

The veterinarian who made a house call two days later was young and pale, curly blond hair reaching his shoulders. He looked more qualified to review video games on YouTube than to treat sick animals, but Kelly assured him that Dr. Colin was not only a fully qualified veterinary neurologist, but that he already had a number of impressive achievements to his name. Nathaniel’s hopes plummeted as he watched the vet do the same basic tests that Dr. Ward had done. He knelt next to the couch, felt along Zero’s spine, checked his eyes, looked inside his ears, and listened to his heart.

“I’d say it’s either a tumor or a stroke,” Dr. Colin said, standing up again.

The same diagnosis. Nathaniel was too depressed to roll his eyes. “So what would you do?” he asked. “Pretend this was your dog and you didn’t have to worry about the feelings of anyone else.”

“Nothing,” Dr. Colin said.

“Nothing?”

The veterinarian nodded. “Tests are expensive and in this situation unnecessary because all you need to do is wait and see. If he starts to get worse—stops eating or has any other negative symptoms—then you’re dealing with a tumor. We can talk about options then. From what you’ve told me, he’s remained stable.”

“His appetite improved after the first day,” Nathaniel said.

“Good. If he shows other signs of improvement, I’d say you’re dealing with a stroke. Ninety-five percent of dogs recover from strokes. You can’t rush Mother Nature though. Some things take a long time to heal. But they do. Eventually.”

Nathaniel exchanged a hopeful glance with Kelly. “So you’re saying he might get better?”

“I can’t promise anything, but yes. You’re taking good care of him. He’s cleaner than most healthy dogs. Keep it up and see what happens in another week.”

They were in high spirits after the veterinarian left. Little had changed, but now they had hope, which was worth the bill they were given. They watched Zero all night, imagining he would hop to his paws at any moment. This didn’t happen, but all the chores that needed to be done—carrying him outside to potty and everything else—now seemed a little easier.

Nathaniel slept better too. Kelly took the couch like he’d done the previous nights. He could stay with his parents, but neither of them had suggested the idea. Nathaniel was beneath the sheets, petting Zero in the dim light and about to drift off. Then he heard soft footsteps on the carpet, felt the sheet behind him lift. A moment later, Kelly scooted close, putting an arm around Nathaniel to hold him tight.

“Some things take a long time to heal,” Kelly whispered. “But they do.”

Nathaniel reached for Kelly’s hand, placing his own over it and guiding it to his chest. He pressed it there, not letting go until sleep took them both.

* * * * *

Nathaniel awoke to a whimpering noise like he did every morning. Except this time something was different. Namely the body still pressed against his. From what he could tell, Kelly was wearing nothing but his underwear. Through it he could feel something poking him. Nathaniel allowed himself a chuckle. Then he winced, uncomfortable from sleeping in the same position all night.

Zero whimpered again.

“Okay,” he said. “Hold your horses.”

He spared the dog a grumpy glare. Zero’s head was raised, eyes pleading for a lift outside so he could take care of business. Nathaniel started disentangling himself from Kelly, then did a double take. Zero’s head was raised. He was on his belly, both paws neatly in front of him.

“You want to go potty?” Nathaniel asked.

Zero strained, his good arm stretching forward. A second later the other followed. His movements were wobbly and definitely weak, but he managed to scoot himself forward.

“Wake up!” Nathaniel said, elbowing Kelly in the ribs.

“Ow! You’re such a monster!”

“Look! He’s sitting up!”

He glanced over to confirm that Kelly was looking, surprise spreading across his face. Then glee. “He’s getting better!”

“Yeah,” Nathaniel said, laughing himself to tears. “He is.”

By the end of the day, both of Zero’s front legs were doing well. He could now scoot across the carpet, hind legs dragging uselessly behind him. He could also roll over with some effort if feeling uncomfortable. Kelly insisted the dog’s tail had wagged briefly when offered a treat. Nathaniel had been in the bathroom at the time, and over the next few hours, repeatedly offered Zero more goodies in the hope that it would happen again. Currently the dog was scooting across the living room to get at a severely mutilated teddy bear he enjoyed chewing.

“He might need crutches,” Kelly said musingly, sipping a glass of wine while sitting next to Nathaniel on the couch. “I could give him some pointers.”

“I still have your old ones,” Nathaniel admitted.

Kelly assessed how serious he was. Then he laughed. “That’s so sad!”

“What?” Nathaniel said defensively. “It’s not like I cuddle with them at night.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Kelly said with a smirk. “I suppose it
is
kind of sweet.”

An awkward moment of tension followed. They hadn’t talked about what had happened last night. Zero had taken all of their energy during the day, and Nathaniel was worried that drawing attention to the progress they had made would somehow ruin it.

“I feel like I’ve come home again,” Kelly said. “Like this is where I belong.”

“In Austin?”

“No. Right here. This apartment. This couch.”

“Oh.” Nathaniel looked around. “I suppose you could take over my lease. I
am
moving to New York, after all.” A second later, a pillow smacked him in the face.

“You’re lucky I didn’t throw the wine instead,” Kelly taunted.

“No,” Nathaniel countered, his tone serious. “I’m just lucky. If this is what I think it is, then I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Kelly set his glass on the table, then stretched out, resting his head in Nathaniel’s lap. That felt good, as did reaching down to stroke his hair. A contented silence followed, Nathaniel tempted to press the issue, but he waited until Kelly spoke.

“No promises. That way they can’t be broken.”

“I’m not scared of any promises. Or commitment.”

Kelly rolled over, looking up at him with a disbelieving expression. “
Really
?”

Nathaniel met his gaze. “Want me to propose to you?”

Kelly searched his eyes. “I’m tempted to call your bluff.”

“Try me.”

Kelly took a deep breath. Then he sat up, seeming a little overwhelmed. “Doesn’t seem the most appropriate time. Not with our little patient over there.”

They both looked to the dog, who had decided the teddy bear would make a decent pillow. Zero’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling.

“Looks like you’re out of excuses.” Nathaniel said, laughing when he saw the panicked response. “Don’t worry. I plan to slowly lure you back in. One step at a time.”

Kelly batted his eyelashes demurely. “Step one being?”

Nathaniel leaned close for a kiss. Few things could avoid the ravages of time, but their lips touching felt reassuringly familiar. Kelly shifted his body closer, his hands rubbing Nathaniel’s chest, his arms, his stomach—touching every part he could reach as if needing reassurance that everything was still there where he’d left it. Then he pulled away.

“One more thing,” he said. “I have a boyfriend. In New York.”

“Roar,” Nathaniel said in deadpan tones, pushing him backward into a laying position. “Growl. I’m so angry and hurt. We can’t see each other anymore.”

Kelly studied him and laughed. “That was the final test. I promise.”

“For me, maybe,” Nathaniel said, climbing on top of Kelly. “I plan on testing you in as many ways as you’ll let me.”

They kissed, Nathaniel grinding against him. Kelly clung to his torso, drawing him near, unable to get enough. Or so it seemed. Just when things were getting really hot, he pushed Nathaniel away.

“Strip for me,” he said.

Nathaniel grinned slowly. Then got to his feet. He peeled off his T-shirt, trying to appear confident while wishing he’d hit the gym more often. Kelly seemed impressed enough, giggling when Nathaniel flexed his arms. Then he undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down slowly and moved the denim flaps aside to reveal his bulge.