Page 30 of Disciplinary Action
“I keep missing him,” Cal said, realizing that was it. “I feel like he’s a ghost…or I am.”
Cal really did miss Gideon. He missed seeing his face. He missed his touch, hearing him call him baby boy or little bird, missed his breath on his neck and the sting of his slap. It seemed illogical to miss somebody he didn’t know, but he really did…or maybe he just missed feeling like somebody cared whether he lived or died. He wanted to flop back on his pillow and pout about the turmoil going on in his head and in his heart, but he couldn’t. So, he did nothing, just stuffed it down deep.
“Why don’t I send in Jeanette to help you take a shower and brush your teeth and put on some clean clothes? It might make you feel better.”
The thought of a shower made Cal want to weep. She turned off his pumps and removed the IV in his arm. She said it was time to move it anyway. Cal didn’t relish the idea of getting poked again, but if it meant he could wash his hair, he’d make the sacrifice.
Claudia took his empty dinner tray and set it beside the door for the food services people before pointing at him, her tone teasing. “No hanky-panky in my hospital rooms, you hear? I don’t need all my lines getting tangled. Besides, you still need your rest.”
Cal blushed. “We’ll keep it PG. I promise.”
“You better,” she said, just as Jeanette entered the room.
Gideon arrived after ten when a shiny, clean Cal was working on his Econ homework. “You’re awake,” Gideon said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
Cal nodded, closing his laptop and setting it on the tray beside his bed. “I skipped my sleeping pill tonight.”
Gideon pulled the chair to Cal’s bedside, sitting close enough to reach out and brush a curl off his forehead. Without product, his hair was a wavy mess. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Much better. When can I leave?” Cal asked, hating that his tone bordered on whining.
“I ran into Claudia in the hallway. She said they are likely going to send you home tomorrow.” Home. The word was a dagger in his chest. He didn’t have a home. He forced himself not to let his sudden anxiety show, but his pulse skipped, causing the machine at his bedside to beep loudly. Gideon frowned at the number. “If I’m still at school, I’ll send a car to come get you and take you back to the loft.”
Cal didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be alone with some stranger. He shook his head. “No. I’ll just wait for you. Is that okay? Can I just stay and wait for you?” He hated the panic in his voice. What was wrong with him?
Gideon smiled. “Of course. As long as the hospital allows it. I’ll come get you myself after school.”
Cal gave a shuddering sigh, his shoulders falling. “Okay, good.”
Cal didn’t know why it mattered. He would see Gideon when he arrived home. It was his house. But since Cal had been at the hospital, the idea of being alone outside those walls sparked a fear inside him he wasn’t sure he could ever vocalize. Nothing seemed permanent, and it scared him. Maybe he deserved that. For all the things he’d worried about growing up, food and shelter had never been one of them. His education had never been threatened, he’d taken his insulin pump for granted, his doctors, his vacations, his access to nice cars and any toy his heart desired. All of it.
But not now. Now, every day, he lived dancing on a knife’s edge, and though Gideon didn’t say as much, there was a countdown to their arrangement. No matter how generous Gideon was, Cal wasn’t his responsibility. Cal was an adult, but he didn’t feel like one. Not really. He didn’t know how to cook or do laundry. He couldn’t balance a checkbook. Did people even have checkbooks anymore? How did he get a job when he didn’t know how to do anything? It was like he’d woken up in a foreign country and didn’t speak the language.
“Do you know how to cook?” Cal blurted.
Gideon studied him, a crooked smile forming. “What?”
“Can you cook?” Cal asked again, trying to contain his nerves so he didn’t sound like he was shouting random questions at Gideon like a crazy person.
“I don’t have much time for it but yes. I started cooking again after…” He trailed off.
After his husband died,Cal finished for him. “Did he cook for you, before then I mean?” Cal whispered.
Gideon gave a fond smile, his fingers curling around Cal’s. “Yes. He did almost everything for me. Too much, really,” he finished, the smile disappearing.
“Did it scare you after…” Cal trailed off just as Gideon had a moment ago, like they didn’t want to say the words, like it might provoke some kind of angry spirit. Gideon’s gaze fell to Cal’s hand, playing with his fingers. A heavy silence fell between them until Cal felt compelled to say, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Gideon jerked his head towards Cal, like he’d pulled him back to reality. “You can always ask, little bird. I’m just not used to talking about it. About him. We were together for so long, and I was so young when we met. Then, he was just suddenly not there, and it was like having the rug yanked out from under me. He was older than me but not old. If he’d had a major illness or something, maybe I could have prepared myself for it… But, one day, he was there, kissing me goodbye, and hours later, he was just gone. There was a giant gaping hole in my world, and I realized I had no idea how to be me without him.” He gave a humorless laugh. “He left me everything. His money, his seat on several boards, his family’s whole legacy. He left me his whole life, but he’d never really taught me how to live it, just how to fake it.”
Cal threaded their fingers together. “But you figured it out.”
Gideon squeezed Cal’s hand, gazing at him with a warmth that made his heartbeat stutter. “Yes. I did.”
“How?” Cal asked, desperate for the secret, like the knowledge was the difference between him sinking or swimming. “How did you teach yourself to be self-sufficient?”
Gideon shrugged. “I got mad. It was all I could do. I had to get mad at him, at myself, at the world. I had to get furious enough to get out of bed and remind myself that I wasn’t just Grant’s husband, his boy, his pet. I was a PhD candidate. I was working on my doctoral thesis from one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Grant didn’t give that to me, I’d earned it. I could build things from nothing with my bare hands. I could play music. I had talents and a life that was all my own. The things I didn’t know, I could learn. So, I did.”
“Were youreallymad at him though?” Cal asked.
