CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

BRIAN

I stand at the door of the playroom watching Gus colouring posters with a couple of other kids. He's still wearing his PJ's but he looks his usual chatty, enthusiastic self, so I guess he can't be feeling too bad.

I slide onto a chair next to Mel, who's wearily sipping a coffee from the vending machine. "Hey."

She looks round in surprise. "Brian?" She takes in my appearance. "Have they discharged you already?"

"Not really." The first thing I'd done when I'd awoken was to ask after Justin and Gus, and I'd been assured that they'd both spent peaceful, uneventful nights; Gus was expected to be discharged today. Justin's neurologist would make a further assessment before deciding whether to release him or not, but the signs so far were good. So I'd abandoned the pathetic excuse for breakfast the nurse had served me, struggled into the clean clothes Boot had thoughtfully sent with us and headed off to see my two favourite boys. "I just couldn't hang around waiting for the doctor ... I wanted to come and check on Gus. And I wasn't about to let my son see me in one of those fucking gowns with my butt hanging out."

She manages a small smile. "Heaven forefend. How's the hand?"

"Hurts like a mother-fucker," I tell her cheerfully. I'd gotten off lightly, and I know it.

"Have you seen Justin yet?"

I shake my head. "He's my next stop. But I never got to see Gus last night, and I promised I'd come as soon as I could. He doesn't look any the worse for wear."

She shrugs. "You know kids ... they bounce right back." She fidgets uncomfortably. "He asked for Linds ... as soon as he woke up."

"Fuck." Of course he would. "What did you tell him?"

"I didn't know what to say," she replies sadly. "I didn't want to upset him, but I didn't want to lie to him either. I just told him that Linds was sick too, and she was here in hospital like him. He wants to see her." She looks at me with tired, worried eyes. "Should he see her? Will the police even allow it? Shit, Brian, what the fuck are we going to do?"

"We take it a step at a time," I answer. "There are going to be a lot of changes, that's for sure. I take it he'll live with you and JR?"

She gives me a look.

"Okay, stupid question. But we need to keep things as normal as possible ... school, home, everything. The important thing is to make him understand that none of us are going anywhere; what happens to Lindsay is out of our hands now, but we can sure as hell make certain Gus has all the love and support he needs to get through it."

"You really think it's that easy?" she demands. "Do you honestly believe anything is going to compensate for losing his mother?"

"No," I tell her bluntly. "But it's the best we can do. And like you said, kids are tough. Gus will be alright."

She hangs her head and sniffs a little.

"Mel, it'll be okay," I reassure her. "Once Sanchez gives him the all-clear, we'll take him back to your place, sit him down, and explain what's going on. And then we'll deal with it, any way we have to." I pat her shoulder. "I promise you, I'll be there ... and I'll help anyway I can. No limits, no conditions. Whatever you and the kids need, Mel ... you got it."

She looks up and gives me a watery smile. "Never thought I'd hear the day you'd say that, Kinney. You're human after all ... Lindsay was right, damn her."

"Dadda!" Gus finally spots me and comes racing over. He leaps onto my lap and hugs me. "I've been sick! I puked over everything! It was gross!"

"I know, Sonny-Boy. That's why I've come to see you ... to make sure you're alright."

"Why is your hand all wrapped up?" he asks, examining the bandage. "Have you hurt it?"

"I just burned it a little," I tell him. "It's nothing to worry about."

"I burned my hand once," he tells me earnestly. "Momma made me hold it in cold water until it was better. You should do that too, Dadda. Then it won't hurt so much."

I'm really glad I've spent all these years schooling my face to behave itself, because I'm sure none of my emotions show when I smile at him. "I'll remember that, Gus. Now why don't you show your old man what you've been colouring?"

His face lights up; he slides off my lap and drags me over to the table where the other kids are still busy with their crayolas. I follow willingly. Giving him a little of my time is the least I can do. Let him be happy for a while longer ... before Mel and I pull his little world apart.


"What the fuck do you mean, he's discharged himself?" I snap at the duty doctor. He's tall, fortyish, good looking. I'd fuck him, but not now. "You mean you just let him walk out?"

He folds his hands on the table. "We advised against it, at least until he'd been assessed again. But he was adamant. He signed a disclaimer. And since he's of legal age and of sound mind, we had no way of stopping him. This is a hospital, Mr. Kinney, not a prison."

I glare at him. "You'd better not be as ineffectual with Ms. Petersen ... you know, the one who put us in here in the first place?"

He raises an eyebrow. "She has a police guard to make sure she doesn't abscond, Mr. Kinney. She is under arrest. Mr. Taylor isn't."

I can't fucking believe this. I can feel the headache building again behind my eyes.

"When did he leave?" I demand.

He shrugs a little. "An hour ago ... maybe more."

"And nobody thought to tell me? Christ!" I explode.

"We were under no obligation to, Mr Kinney. As I told you before, Mr. Taylor is an adult. He can choose for himself whom he wants to inform about his movements."

I want to smack him right on his straight, sanctimonious nose. "If anything happens to him ... if he has a stroke or falls down the fucking stairs or something ... I'm going to sue the fuck out of this hospital!"

He smiles thinly. "Since you're not a relative and Pennsylvania doesn't recognise civil partnerships, I think that a highly unlikely scenario, don't you?"

Smug bastard. I hope his WASPy wife is even now spread-eagled buck-naked on the dining table, being rammed senseless by the delivery man.


"Guvnor!" Boot sounds pleased. "You on your way home?"

"No. Not yet." I pace round the Loft, searching for any sign that Justin has been there. "I promised Mel I'd take Gus home with her ... we want to break the news about Lindsay to him together."

"Don't envy you that one, guv. I expect the nipper'll take it hard."

"So do I." I go to the bedroom and cross to the closet, sliding back the door and running my eyes over Justin's clothes, trying to check if there's anything missing. To my relief everything still seems to be in place ... but where the fuck is he?

I sit down on the bed. "Boot ... I've kinda lost Justin."

"You what?"

"I don't know where he is. He discharged himself from the hospital first thing this morning ... I thought he'd come back to the Loft, but I can't see that he's been here." I'm dying for a cigarette but I've discovered trying to light a Zippo with my left hand is virtually impossible. "I'm fucking worried, Boot."

"What, do you think something's happened to him?"

"No. Not physically. I think he might have figured this is all too much effort."

There's a pause. "How do you mean, guv?"

"Christ! How do you think? This shit just keeps going on and on ... how much more can he take? And it's not going to get any better, because Lindsay's not going to be around for the foreseeable future, so it's going to get really complicated with Gus. He's going to be much more involved in our lives than I ever thought about. And Justin ... he told me he didn't want a kid, that there were too many things he still wanted to do ... what if he's decided it's all too much baggage and he's just decided to cut his losses?" I draw my breath too quickly and start coughing.

Boot waits until I've got myself under control. "I think you might be over-reacting a little bit, guv."

"Oh, you think?" I wheeze. "You saw him last night ... and then in the ambulance, he wouldn't hardly speak to me. And if there's one thing I know, a silent Sunshine is not a happy Sunshine. It means he's making his mind up about something."

"Guv ..."

"You might think you know him, but you don't. He says I'm stubborn ... I'm nothing compared to him once he digs his heels in. If he's really made up his mind he doesn't want me ... or at least, me and Gus ... then I've already lost him! I've fucking lost him!" I hear my voice break a little, and I bite the inside of my cheek, hard.

"Guv, calm down. Don't be a plonker." He actually rumbles with laughter. "You poofs ... always the drama. Did it occur to you that the lad might just be a bit rattled and might need a bit of time to himself?"

"Then why the fuck didn't he say something? Why just walk out of the hospital like that? The little twat didn't even wait for the doctor to check him out!"

"Did you?"

I glare at the cell in my left hand. "We're not talking about me. There's nothing wrong with me. I only stayed in the fucking hospital because they were keeping Justin in."

"Maybe he thought you wouldn't let him go."

"Then he'd have been fucking right!"

Boot snorts. "Maybe he's coming here."

Please God. "Yeah. That's why I'm calling. I need to ask you a favour ... another favour."

"Go for it."

"I can't come down yet ... I've got to talk to Gus before I do anything else ... I can't just leave it for Mel to deal with. I promised. I know you've probably got a lot of other things to do, but is there any way you can hang on at Britin until I get there ... just in case he shows up?"

Boot sighs heavily. "I think I gave you the answer to that the first time I met you. If I could drag my soddin' arse all the way to Pittsburgh to look out for the lad, I'm sure can hang around here for a few more hours."

I close my eyes with relief. "Thank you. And not only for this ... for everything else, Boot. Most of all for getting Justin and me out of there last night."

"I watch out for me own, guv. I told you that. You don't need to thank me."

"Well, I am. I owe you big time ... I won't forget it."

He laughs. "I'll call it in one day. Now go talk to your nipper. If the lad turns up here, I'll see to him. Don't worry, guv."

He hangs up.

I stuff my cell into the back pocket of my jeans and get up, heading for the steps. I figure I can get a light for my cigarette from the gas jet on the hob, if I don't set my fucking hair on fire in the process. I can smoke it while I'm waiting for Mel's call to say that she and Gus have left hospital; then I'll get a cab and join them at her place. And once I've spoken to Gus, I'll go and find Justin and I'll ... deal with it.

I'm not letting him go. That just isn't an option.

One step at a time, Kinney. One step at a time

TBC