After the Prayer
by Roaming Tigress
Introductory
My heart was heavy with grief as I sat beside the bed of my coma bound mother at the Sacred Hearts Hospital. She had been put in there as a result of a hit and run, and the coward who could care less of she lived or died was still at large. I, Carlos Solis, am certainly no saint. I make a profit at the expense of others. I admit to being jealous and possessive with a hair-trigger temper and occasional bouts of immaturity to add to the pile. Yet, in spite of all my sky-high faults, I have a heart as cold as it so often is.
Even as I held her hand and prayed for her recovery, I was unable to convey how I really felt inside.
My emotions, save for the anger and want of giving the driver a taste of his or her own medicine, seemed to have been trapped away in a box with the key thrown away. Mama taught me that showing emotion was for the weak, that the Solises find solutions to fix their problems and not cry over them. It was just a few weeks ago that she gave me a reminder of this in the form of a slap in the face. Right in front of her, I cried when I suspected Gabrielle was having an affair with another man. I had given everything she had ever wanted; dresses from Paris, jewelry from Milan, an expensive car, a big house. Where did I go wrong, does she not think I love her . . . ?
I snapped out of the memory of shaming my mother and cast my dark, spaniel-like eyes on the other side of her hospital bed. There, sitting her pert tush on the dressing table, was Gabrielle. For the uptenth time this week, she was busily filing her nails who already seemed to have been meticulously manicured. Her lack of apparent compassion for Mama's dire condition secretly gnawed at me, but I wasn't in the mood to argue and decided to let it to pass.
"You should go home and get some rest, eat something," Gabrielle told me as she told me as she nipped off a hangnail, giving me a reminder I hadn't eaten since the previous night.
"You have a ton of messages from work. Tanaka called. He said it was urgent."
My job could wait, babe. I'm a good liar; I could make a good excuse for Tanaka when he starts prying. "I need to be here if she wakes up."
"You can't go on like this," Gabrielle sharply insisted. "You have to take care of yourself."
"And what if she dies . . . ?" I quietly asked, blinking as I felt my eyes mist over. "People slip into comas all the time and never come out." My normally velvety voice with just a touch of an Mexican accent, had a catch to it.
"Don't say that!" Gabrielle firmly reassured. "We need to stay positive."
I paid no attention to the sound of the door opening, for I had figured it was just another nurse or doctor making his or her regular rounds on the patients. In the four hours I have been here, at least three came and went, checking for any changes in Mama's condition and nagging me about overstaying my visit. It was hard to stay optimistic when they informed me that there were no changes and muttered amongst each other about brain and respiratory function. I wanted to remind myself that Mama is a strong woman and that someday, somehow, she would awake from her coma and pull through.
"Mr. and Mrs. Solis?" Without even needing to turn around and look, I knew that our visitor was none other than John Rowland, our gardener -- and a damn fine one at that.
"Is it okay if I come in?" He asked tentatively, peeking his head in the door.
I nodded once, not letting my eyes off of my mother as he walked in, roses in hand. "Of course."
"Mr. Solis, I'm so sorry this happened . . ." John said with genuine compassion, handing me the bouquet that I placed in the vase by Gabrielle.
A lump in my throat warned me that my feelings were in danger of spilling out. I had to stay strong; I had to be a manly man and make it look like I was handling the situation better than I really was deep down inside. Out of desperation of not wanting to become a sobbing mess again, I pulled John into a tight hug and let out a deep, shuddering sigh.
"It means a lot that you came."
I tried to maintain my masculinity, but it was too late. John, the smart, intuitive boy that he is, had caught the concealed vulnerability in my voice. Once he got over the shock of having middle-aged man suddenly hugging him, he firmly returned the embrace.
"It's all right . . . Carlos . . ." The young man whispered., taking me by surprise by referring to me as his real name for the first time. His calloused hands that were strong enough to pull the toughest roots out of the ground were gentle as she soothingly rubbed my back and held me closer.
As I rested my whiskered chin on his solid shoulder, I could feel his heart steadily beating over mine. The inner child inside me had found his comfort that he longed for during this troubled time, and the man had found the unexpected -- attraction for another of the same sex.
I tried to push past away these unexpected feelings. After all, I am a married man and a very straight, masculine one at that. These emotions though, just like the man they belonged to, would not budge easily. Beyond my control, they overcame my apprehension and forced me to realize that I had really nothing to fight against. These were true, strong emotions that I was experiencing. With life being as short as it is, why should I try to throw away something that is meant to be enjoyed, as surprising as it may be?
I smiled a little as I subtly slid my right down towards John's waist, briefly forgetting that I was in the presence of my wife. Alas, before we could get any further, the developing intimacy came to an abrupt stop. The two of us had picked up an awkward vibe from Gabrielle, and John was the first one to break away from the embrace.
"Look, I think I'm going to go down to the chapel and pray. You want to come?" I asked, turning to her as I started to leave the room.
Gabrielle had been watching us the entire time with understandable bewilderment, and replied quietly. "Um, no, I think I will stay here with Mama."
"Is it all right if I come?" John asked.
"Of course, we need all the prayers we can get."
The characters John Rowland and Gabrielle/Carlos Solis are © ABC/Touchstone Television.