Page 118 of Only You

“A few weeks.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“No. I thought I could handle it on my own.” Minty’s eyes filled with tears. “But I can’t. I’m scared and mad. But mostly scared.”

“I am too,” Daniel said, holding his hand and rubbing the back of his knuckles with his thumb. “But we can hope for a miracle. We can’t stop believing. You’re not even sick.”

“Yet.”

“We’ll hope better medicines are developed soon. I’ll take you to consult with one of the doctors ARK keeps on call. We’ll figure this out.”

“And pray for a miracle,” Minty murmured, his lips trembling and tears spilling over. He took hold of my hand and squeezed his fingers. “Peter, you too. Pray to that God you claim you don’t believe in. Will you?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, taking their hands and closing my eyes.

“Then let’s pray now,” Minty said.

And we did. My first ever purposeful and out-loud prayer to a god I didn’t believe existed.

But it was for a good cause. It was for Minty.

Part XI

October 1991

My dearest love,

The days grow darker as the year turns the corner from summer into autumn, but my love for you shines brighter than ever. I remember you in my arms, the joy of union, the small despair of sliding free from your body after the passion waned… I remember it all with clarity that can only be rivaled by the photos I took of you then, flushed with love and wet with our spendings. Is there any intimacy greater? Come back to me. Leave everything else behind. Our love can outshine all darkness, if you’ll just allow it to take its rightful place in your life.

But let’s not fight. Just come home to me.

Your very own,

Harold

Chapter Twenty-Three

‡

The beginning ofOctober rolled around and between classes, my job at the library, his work on his house and attempts to help Minty, and all my studying, I spent less time with Daniel than I would have liked. Though I’d stayed over on two different Saturday nights, and Daniel had met me on campus twice just to hang out while I studied, it didn’t feel like enough. When I wasn’t with him, I was thinking about him. I felt jumpy and impatient, or dreamy and needy, and it all added up toyearning.

As for Minty, he wasn’t making it easy for Daniel to take care of him. After our prayer together, he’d seemed ready and willing to go with Daniel to ARK, find out more about eventually getting AZT, and figuring out how to live with the disease.

But after he’d left, things had changed. He’d stopped reliably returning Daniel’s calls, failed to show up when Daniel came to take him to a meeting at ARK, and was giving enough push-and-pull to remind Daniel way too much of his mother.

All in all, it was a mess, and Daniel had been advised by Barry to let Minty figure himself out. Daniel had struggled to give up control, but when Minty told him in no uncertain terms to back off and let him figure things out on his own, calling him “Dad” in a tone that dripped with disdain, Daniel had taken a step back.

He’d said, “There’s only so much I can do. If a person doesn’t want help, I can’t force them to take it. Ask me how I learned that lesson.”

Speaking of, Daniel’s mother was still in rehab and had had her phone privileges revoked for some infraction or other. Daniel said he should be worried about it, but instead he was relieved. Her nightly calls did nothing but upset him. I agreed he was better off without her making promises he had no hope she’d ever keep.

Instead,Italked to him every night, dreaming of the future we’d make in Bobby’s house, talking over furniture plans and vegetable gardens. It was all very fanciful, and some part of me whispered that I was too young to move in with someone, but most of me just danced in the dream of it all.

Sitting with Jennifer and Minty in the UC cafeteria, I listened to them talk over the details of Donnie Huggins’s latest lecture. This one was on Bettelheim’s theories on autism and the “refrigerator mom.” Again, another topic I felt certain was not on the typical Psych 110 syllabus.

“Blaming the mother is always bullshit,” Jennifer said, putting a forkful of salad in her mouth and crunching down.

“Agreed,” Minty said, taking a bite of his chicken and rice. He was eating a little better lately, and I made note to report that good news to Daniel. “They blame moms for everything—autism, depression, gay kids, AIDS.”

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