Chapter 14

Later that evening, Mark found himself alone on the deck as the others cleared up, having lost the argument that he was perfectly capable of helping. He was standing at the railing, watching the moonlight reflected on the water, when Amanda came out to join him. She stood silently in the shadows for a moment, watching this man who had been one of her dearest friends for so long. She reflected that Mark had always been a man who was very comfortable with who and what he was – never pretending or changing to conform to other people's expectations. It was so hard to see him struggling to find his place in the midst of his own life and friends. She saw him turn now to look back into house, and noticed how his eyes followed Steve, a slightly troubled look on his face. She stepped out into the moonlight to stand beside him.

"Mark?"

He glanced at her, startled, not having realized she was there.

"Amanda! I'm sorry; I didn't see you come out," he apologized.

"Is there something in particular bothering you?" she asked quietly. "Something about Steve?"

Mark focussed his attention on Amanda, surprised by how quickly she had picked up on both his distraction and its cause. He reflected that it might, in fact, be helpful to talk to this person who was obviously such a close friend of both his and Steve's.

"I was just thinking of the stress all this is putting on Steve," he said, trying to sound casual, but with a trace of his concern showing in his voice. "He's trying too hard to carry me through this."

"Mark, you've just been through a horrendous ordeal," Amanda responded. "It's going to take a little while before you're back to normal; it's only natural that Steve is going to want to do as much as he can to help you." She kept her eyes on her friend, sensing that there was more behind this than appeared on the surface. "After all, if it were the other way around, you'd be doing the same for him." She saw Mark's face turn to hers at that, an unspoken question in his eyes, and, with a sudden flash of insight, realized what it was that was bothering him.

"Mark, the reason this is so hard on Steve – and there's no use pretending it isn't," she admitted, "is because you two are so close. You have an incredible relationship – you understand and support each other. It's not just him looking after you, you know." She looked him straight in the eyes, a soft smile in her own. "There's a basic fact you don't seem to have grasped yet," she told him. "The reason we're all here for you is because you're always there for us. And that holds especially true for Steve. You're there for him when he needs you, Mark – always; you don't need to worry about that. Nobody's ever been in any doubt about that – least of all Steve."

The quiet certainty in Amanda's voice carried complete conviction, providing the reassurance that Mark so needed. It was important to him to know that the love and support Steve was providing flowed both ways, that he wasn't always on the receiving end. He looked back at her with a slight, grateful smile. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Amanda smiled at him with deep affection, and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. No more was said, as Steve and Jesse returned from the kitchen, and the two friends prepared to leave.

After Jesse and Amanda had gone, Steve looked closely at his father, observing the obvious signs of fatigue that lent an uncharacteristic air of frailty to the older man. It would take a little time, he knew, before Mark would completely regain his usual robust health and energy; a week-long illness saps anyone's strength and energy, and for a man of his father's age to have undergone what he had for a week, it would take more than a day or two to recover from the debilitating effects.

"Why don't you get some sleep, Dad?" he suggested, in what he hoped was a casual tone. "Everything's all cleaned up; I'll be turning in in a bit myself." He saw a gleam of humor in the blue eyes that suddenly seemed remarkably alert.

"Do I look that bad?" Mark asked.

Surprised, Steve realized that he hadn't deceived his father at all; Mark had noticed the scrutiny and had seen the concern his son had hoped to hide. Ruefully, Steve reflected that here was one more proof that his father's loss of memory wasn't indicative of a corresponding loss of his powers of observation. "No, but you do need to catch up on your rest," Steve responded, smiling.

Mark nodded in acknowledgement of this, but retorted, "You know, I could say the same of you. I know I can't claim to be sure of much, but I suspect that you don't always look this tired yourself!"

"Don't worry, Dad," Steve replied. "I'm planning on going to sleep soon too. I'm just going to watch some TV first to unwind a bit." He watched as his father went off to his room, then kicked off his shoes, grabbed a pillow and throw from the couch, and settled into Mark's recliner. He hadn't lied, he reflected. He was planning on sleeping; he just wasn't planning on doing it in his apartment. He remembered the sudden awakenings and alarms his father had experienced the previous night; his presence then had seemed to provide reassurance. Mark certainly seemed to be much more stable today, but he was still going through enormous emotional changes and adjustments, and Steve planned on being nearby in case he was needed.