Wedding Song 5:
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TWO DAYS LATER
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Bobby awoke suddenly in the very early darkness of Monday morning, missing Darien's presence. Vainly, he ran a hand over the sheets in front of him, but found only dying warmth and empty space.
"Damn it, Fawkes.... not again....." he groaned quietly, conscious of Bobbi sleeping only a few feet away. He wished he could have remained asleep as well, blissfully unaware of her mother's recent middle of the night departures, but the bond he and Darien shared was too tightly woven for that. If one sent a distress call, whether verbalized or silent, the other received and responded. Sitting up, Bobby swung his legs out of bed, pushed his feet into his slippers and went in search of his wayward partner for the third morning in a row.
He found him in the same place and the same position he had occupied on Saturday and Sunday morning; on his side, curled into a fetal ball and backed tightly into the juncture of two walls in the living room. Two of the heavy chairs that normally faced the coffee table were placed side by side in front of a contentedly sleeping Darien, as if he'd felt a need for a protective barrier. From what, Bobby was too tired to even begin to guess.
Sighing sadly, Bobby carefully moved the chairs back to their proper position, crouched down beside his fiancée and began to talk to him gently. "Darien. Hey, wake up, kid. C'mon, babe.... wake up. Darien, wake up."
Slowly, the other's eyelashes began to flicker and he grudgingly began to awaken.
"Bobby? Wha' time s'it?"
"A little past three a.m."
"Damn... I got the week off, remember? What the hell're you wakin' me up for?"
"You woke me up, oh sleepwalkin' love a'mine."
"I what..... oh, God.... where am I?"
"In the livin' room, like before. Your side of the bed was still a little warm, so I don't think you were gone too long. It's okay. You're safe. C'mon." he offered, extending a hand to help Darien to his feet. The hand was accepted and Darien was soon moving stiffly back toward the bedroom with Bobby's arm around his waist in support. Halfway there, a severe cramp struck his calf and he cried out. "What?"
"Charley horse! Couch, quick!"
"Nah, nah, nah. I got a better way. Sit on the floor... now lay back. Stretch out. Right." Once Darien had obeyed, Hobbes continued his instruction. "Which leg? Left? Gimme that foot. Bend the knee.... that's right. Put your foot flat on my leg.... good. Okay. Just try an' relax. Close your eyes.... breathe easy.... atta' boy. That's the way. Relax."
For several minutes, Hobbes massaged the knotted muscles of Darien's lower leg until the spasms eased and the pain melted away. Once he could clearly see in Darien's face that the cramp was gone, Bobby cautiously helped the other man to his feet again.
"Damn. That really worked. Is that an army trick or somethin'?"
"Kinda, yeah. That's where I met the guy who taught it to me. You ready to go back to bed?"
"I guess.... I really am sorry, Hobbes."
"I know, kid. It ain't your fault. I understand that."
"Wish I did. I'm not havin' nightmares.... none that I remember anyhow. I don't even have weird dreams anymore."
"You ain't stopped dreamin' completely have ya?"
"No. It's just now they're all kinda.... hazy and vague. Nothin' much to 'em really. Why?"
"Just somethin' the doc told me about dreams bein' important when you're not asleep. Dreams are the way our brains pull the day apart an' put it back together. If you stop dreamin' it's like... your CPU power source fried. The hard drive's solid, but the part that lets you work with the info an' make sense of it is toast. When that happens in your head....."
"You flip a circuit breaker?"
"Pretty much. 'Till somebody fixes the CPU." Hobbes finished as Darien slid back between the covers. Bobby moved around the bed to his side and joined him, wrapping an arm defensively around the other man. "Stay here, huh? Stay with me. You don't need to hide behind chairs. I'll protect you...."
"I wanna stay..... I don't know I'm doing it. Right up 'till the moment you wake me up, I think I'm still in bed...."
"It's okay. You got your first appointment with Doc Mason today. She knows her stuff.... she'll help you figure this out."
"God, I hope so."
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THAT AFTERNOON
"Darien. Come right in. It's so good to finally meet you. I already feel as if I've known you for years."
"Hi. Good to meet you too... I think. Don't take that wrong, I just meant.... forget it. I'm.... really tired."
"I see that. Have a seat and let's get started."
Darien moved cautiously into the large room and perched tensely on the edge of a chair. The doctor settled easily into a chair just in front of her desk and reached behind her for a notebook and pen. "I understand exactly what you were trying to say a minute ago. Therapy can be intimidating to think about, never mind pursue. Have you ever had counseling before?"
"Yeah.... a million years ago. Not that I had a choice about it...."
"School or prison?"
"Both."
"You think you know the basic process?"
"You ask questions I don't wanna answer, I get pissed, you get disappointed *and* pissed, I leave an' never come back."
Cheryl laughed softly, surprising Darien.
"I hope it won't turn out that way. Educational and prison counselors, that's a whole different ballpark from what I do here. Their caseloads are unimaginable, they have no time to really give any individual attention to the people they see and unfortunately a lot of them end up burned out and in therapy themselves."
"Okay.... so no questions. That's good. Stops the whole angst train before it even gets started."
"I never said that." Cheryl retorted, jotting quickly in her book. "You should be proud of yourself, you know. I am and I'm sure Bobby is too."
"Me? For what?" Darien replied, sadness and anger just barely coloring his voice at the edges.
"First you should know that Bobby told me nothing about the details of what happened on Friday because I wouldn't let him. If I hear about that day, I want it to be from you. All I'm aware of is that you've suffered a significant trauma and that's it's affecting you very deeply. Second, you have a lot to be proud of. You were able to acknowledge that, whatever this is, you couldn't handle it alone and you weren't afraid to reach out to someone close to you and ask for help. I'm here to offer you that help."
"And what if I'm not strong enough to do this?"
"You've taken the first couple of steps all by yourself. I'd say that shows a great deal of strength and courage."
"We'll see. So... how do we start?"
"We already have, but as an official beginning point, why don't you tell me what you can about yourself? Anything that's not classified, of course."
"Sounds like a game show. 'I'm Marlene, I'm from Pomona, I'm a stay at home mom with two wonderful children and a great husband.' "
"Something like that yes." the doctor replied, chuckling. "Well, now I know you have a wicked sense of humor. What else is there to know? Any family in the area?"
"No. Not close anyway. My grandma's up north.... mom's around somewhere. My aunt an' uncle are probably still kickin' up dust in So Cal."
"You didn't mention your dad."
"Yeah, it's not that I don't care, I just haven't seen 'em in a while. I'm tryin' to focus on now. The Bobs mean everything to me. My present an' my future are more important." Darien went on as if she had never asked about his father at all.
"I get it. Dad is off limits."
"In the extreme."
"For the moment." Cheryl tossed back lightly. "Let's talk about Bobby and your daughter."
"That.... I can spend all day on." Darien responded, the light of excitement in his eyes spreading to his entire face.
"So can he. He'd talk about nothing else if I let him."
"Yeah? That's cool." he said, dipping his head as if suddenly shy and grinning ear to ear.
"You weren't sure how he felt?"
"Huh? Oh, no! I know he loves me. No ifs, ands or buts, Bobby Hobbes loves me. It's just.... it's cool to hear that he's so stoked about havin' me in his life. It hasn't been easy for him. He had a lotta stuff to get through before he could even say the words. Now... he tells me he loves me every day."
"Do you feel like that will ever get to be routine, just something you say because it's expected?"
Darien considered this question silently for a little while then gave the doctor an answer she wasn't expecting.
"You married, doc?"
"Yes. As you say, 'to a wonderful husband.' Not in Pomona, but still...."
"Is he the one? The it that.... fills up the empty? I guess what I'm askin'.... is are you soul mates? Did you know the minute you saw him..... in the pit of your stomach an' on the back of your neck an' in the tips of your fingers an' toes..... did you know?"
Stunned by the accuracy and beauty of his words, Cheryl sat stunned for a long moment before she was able to respond.
"Incredible..... yes, if that's the definition.... I think he is."
"Then you know. Laundry is routine. Puttin' up storm windows is routine. Makin' breakfast.... is routine. Hearing the person you belong with, the one you'd rather die than lose, hearing them say I love you is about as far from routine as it gets."
"You're absolutely right. Well... that kills my next two or three questions. I don't have to ask if you think you know what love is or how you know you're in love. Let's move right on to your little girl, shall we?"
"Great idea. Let's."
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THAT EVENING
"Grip it tighter or it'll never do what you want. Move your left hand up a little. There. Better. Now head down..... concentrate. Come back nice an' easy... not too far.... an' stroke."
Despite following instructions, the garishly colored ball rebounded off the wooden structure several feet in front of Darien and rolled back slowly to rest at his feet.
"Crap."
"That wasn't so bad. Give it another shot."
"Forget it, okay? I told you I don't play mini-golf, Hobbes. I'm not exactly a sports kinda guy."
"It's not a sport. Don't take it so serious. We're here to relax, remember? Just hit the ball."
"Relax.... how am I supposed to relax? That stupid windmill's laughin' at me, I know it...." Darien groused, addressing the ball once again.
"This time watch the blades for a minute. Get your timin' right."
Darien gazed at the slowly spinning rectangles for a few seconds until he thought he had it down then hit the ball again. His second attempt sailed straight through the opening without a problem. "See? Told ya. Nice shot, buddy."
Grinning slightly in amazement, Darien stepped aside to let Bobby hit. When his ball too had vanished into windmill limbo, the pair strolled to the green side of the hole together.
"Thanks for this, Bobby. I really did need to wind down. Maybe I'll stay in bed tonight instead of playin' hide an' go to sleep at two a.m."
"That first appointment's a regular stress-fest, ain't it?"
"Yeah, at first. I like her though. She's pretty cool. I think maybe she can get me through this."
"I know she can. You're closer to the hole. You go first."
Darien planted his feet, looked from the hole and back to his ball a few times to make sure he was aligned correctly then gently tapped the ball with his putter. To his shock, it headed directly for the white plastic cup sunk into the astro-turf, circled the rim once and dropped in. Bobby high- fived him excitedly. "Way to go, partner! I knew you'd be good at this."
"It went in. It actually went in!"
"It damn sure did. Ready for the next one? They get harder as we go."
"Oh, I'm more than ready. How about a bet? High score buys the Chinese take- out?"
"Yeah, yeah. This ain't the Masters an' you ain't Tiger Woods. Let's see how you handle the waterfall, my friend...."
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TBC......
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TWO DAYS LATER
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Bobby awoke suddenly in the very early darkness of Monday morning, missing Darien's presence. Vainly, he ran a hand over the sheets in front of him, but found only dying warmth and empty space.
"Damn it, Fawkes.... not again....." he groaned quietly, conscious of Bobbi sleeping only a few feet away. He wished he could have remained asleep as well, blissfully unaware of her mother's recent middle of the night departures, but the bond he and Darien shared was too tightly woven for that. If one sent a distress call, whether verbalized or silent, the other received and responded. Sitting up, Bobby swung his legs out of bed, pushed his feet into his slippers and went in search of his wayward partner for the third morning in a row.
He found him in the same place and the same position he had occupied on Saturday and Sunday morning; on his side, curled into a fetal ball and backed tightly into the juncture of two walls in the living room. Two of the heavy chairs that normally faced the coffee table were placed side by side in front of a contentedly sleeping Darien, as if he'd felt a need for a protective barrier. From what, Bobby was too tired to even begin to guess.
Sighing sadly, Bobby carefully moved the chairs back to their proper position, crouched down beside his fiancée and began to talk to him gently. "Darien. Hey, wake up, kid. C'mon, babe.... wake up. Darien, wake up."
Slowly, the other's eyelashes began to flicker and he grudgingly began to awaken.
"Bobby? Wha' time s'it?"
"A little past three a.m."
"Damn... I got the week off, remember? What the hell're you wakin' me up for?"
"You woke me up, oh sleepwalkin' love a'mine."
"I what..... oh, God.... where am I?"
"In the livin' room, like before. Your side of the bed was still a little warm, so I don't think you were gone too long. It's okay. You're safe. C'mon." he offered, extending a hand to help Darien to his feet. The hand was accepted and Darien was soon moving stiffly back toward the bedroom with Bobby's arm around his waist in support. Halfway there, a severe cramp struck his calf and he cried out. "What?"
"Charley horse! Couch, quick!"
"Nah, nah, nah. I got a better way. Sit on the floor... now lay back. Stretch out. Right." Once Darien had obeyed, Hobbes continued his instruction. "Which leg? Left? Gimme that foot. Bend the knee.... that's right. Put your foot flat on my leg.... good. Okay. Just try an' relax. Close your eyes.... breathe easy.... atta' boy. That's the way. Relax."
For several minutes, Hobbes massaged the knotted muscles of Darien's lower leg until the spasms eased and the pain melted away. Once he could clearly see in Darien's face that the cramp was gone, Bobby cautiously helped the other man to his feet again.
"Damn. That really worked. Is that an army trick or somethin'?"
"Kinda, yeah. That's where I met the guy who taught it to me. You ready to go back to bed?"
"I guess.... I really am sorry, Hobbes."
"I know, kid. It ain't your fault. I understand that."
"Wish I did. I'm not havin' nightmares.... none that I remember anyhow. I don't even have weird dreams anymore."
"You ain't stopped dreamin' completely have ya?"
"No. It's just now they're all kinda.... hazy and vague. Nothin' much to 'em really. Why?"
"Just somethin' the doc told me about dreams bein' important when you're not asleep. Dreams are the way our brains pull the day apart an' put it back together. If you stop dreamin' it's like... your CPU power source fried. The hard drive's solid, but the part that lets you work with the info an' make sense of it is toast. When that happens in your head....."
"You flip a circuit breaker?"
"Pretty much. 'Till somebody fixes the CPU." Hobbes finished as Darien slid back between the covers. Bobby moved around the bed to his side and joined him, wrapping an arm defensively around the other man. "Stay here, huh? Stay with me. You don't need to hide behind chairs. I'll protect you...."
"I wanna stay..... I don't know I'm doing it. Right up 'till the moment you wake me up, I think I'm still in bed...."
"It's okay. You got your first appointment with Doc Mason today. She knows her stuff.... she'll help you figure this out."
"God, I hope so."
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THAT AFTERNOON
"Darien. Come right in. It's so good to finally meet you. I already feel as if I've known you for years."
"Hi. Good to meet you too... I think. Don't take that wrong, I just meant.... forget it. I'm.... really tired."
"I see that. Have a seat and let's get started."
Darien moved cautiously into the large room and perched tensely on the edge of a chair. The doctor settled easily into a chair just in front of her desk and reached behind her for a notebook and pen. "I understand exactly what you were trying to say a minute ago. Therapy can be intimidating to think about, never mind pursue. Have you ever had counseling before?"
"Yeah.... a million years ago. Not that I had a choice about it...."
"School or prison?"
"Both."
"You think you know the basic process?"
"You ask questions I don't wanna answer, I get pissed, you get disappointed *and* pissed, I leave an' never come back."
Cheryl laughed softly, surprising Darien.
"I hope it won't turn out that way. Educational and prison counselors, that's a whole different ballpark from what I do here. Their caseloads are unimaginable, they have no time to really give any individual attention to the people they see and unfortunately a lot of them end up burned out and in therapy themselves."
"Okay.... so no questions. That's good. Stops the whole angst train before it even gets started."
"I never said that." Cheryl retorted, jotting quickly in her book. "You should be proud of yourself, you know. I am and I'm sure Bobby is too."
"Me? For what?" Darien replied, sadness and anger just barely coloring his voice at the edges.
"First you should know that Bobby told me nothing about the details of what happened on Friday because I wouldn't let him. If I hear about that day, I want it to be from you. All I'm aware of is that you've suffered a significant trauma and that's it's affecting you very deeply. Second, you have a lot to be proud of. You were able to acknowledge that, whatever this is, you couldn't handle it alone and you weren't afraid to reach out to someone close to you and ask for help. I'm here to offer you that help."
"And what if I'm not strong enough to do this?"
"You've taken the first couple of steps all by yourself. I'd say that shows a great deal of strength and courage."
"We'll see. So... how do we start?"
"We already have, but as an official beginning point, why don't you tell me what you can about yourself? Anything that's not classified, of course."
"Sounds like a game show. 'I'm Marlene, I'm from Pomona, I'm a stay at home mom with two wonderful children and a great husband.' "
"Something like that yes." the doctor replied, chuckling. "Well, now I know you have a wicked sense of humor. What else is there to know? Any family in the area?"
"No. Not close anyway. My grandma's up north.... mom's around somewhere. My aunt an' uncle are probably still kickin' up dust in So Cal."
"You didn't mention your dad."
"Yeah, it's not that I don't care, I just haven't seen 'em in a while. I'm tryin' to focus on now. The Bobs mean everything to me. My present an' my future are more important." Darien went on as if she had never asked about his father at all.
"I get it. Dad is off limits."
"In the extreme."
"For the moment." Cheryl tossed back lightly. "Let's talk about Bobby and your daughter."
"That.... I can spend all day on." Darien responded, the light of excitement in his eyes spreading to his entire face.
"So can he. He'd talk about nothing else if I let him."
"Yeah? That's cool." he said, dipping his head as if suddenly shy and grinning ear to ear.
"You weren't sure how he felt?"
"Huh? Oh, no! I know he loves me. No ifs, ands or buts, Bobby Hobbes loves me. It's just.... it's cool to hear that he's so stoked about havin' me in his life. It hasn't been easy for him. He had a lotta stuff to get through before he could even say the words. Now... he tells me he loves me every day."
"Do you feel like that will ever get to be routine, just something you say because it's expected?"
Darien considered this question silently for a little while then gave the doctor an answer she wasn't expecting.
"You married, doc?"
"Yes. As you say, 'to a wonderful husband.' Not in Pomona, but still...."
"Is he the one? The it that.... fills up the empty? I guess what I'm askin'.... is are you soul mates? Did you know the minute you saw him..... in the pit of your stomach an' on the back of your neck an' in the tips of your fingers an' toes..... did you know?"
Stunned by the accuracy and beauty of his words, Cheryl sat stunned for a long moment before she was able to respond.
"Incredible..... yes, if that's the definition.... I think he is."
"Then you know. Laundry is routine. Puttin' up storm windows is routine. Makin' breakfast.... is routine. Hearing the person you belong with, the one you'd rather die than lose, hearing them say I love you is about as far from routine as it gets."
"You're absolutely right. Well... that kills my next two or three questions. I don't have to ask if you think you know what love is or how you know you're in love. Let's move right on to your little girl, shall we?"
"Great idea. Let's."
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THAT EVENING
"Grip it tighter or it'll never do what you want. Move your left hand up a little. There. Better. Now head down..... concentrate. Come back nice an' easy... not too far.... an' stroke."
Despite following instructions, the garishly colored ball rebounded off the wooden structure several feet in front of Darien and rolled back slowly to rest at his feet.
"Crap."
"That wasn't so bad. Give it another shot."
"Forget it, okay? I told you I don't play mini-golf, Hobbes. I'm not exactly a sports kinda guy."
"It's not a sport. Don't take it so serious. We're here to relax, remember? Just hit the ball."
"Relax.... how am I supposed to relax? That stupid windmill's laughin' at me, I know it...." Darien groused, addressing the ball once again.
"This time watch the blades for a minute. Get your timin' right."
Darien gazed at the slowly spinning rectangles for a few seconds until he thought he had it down then hit the ball again. His second attempt sailed straight through the opening without a problem. "See? Told ya. Nice shot, buddy."
Grinning slightly in amazement, Darien stepped aside to let Bobby hit. When his ball too had vanished into windmill limbo, the pair strolled to the green side of the hole together.
"Thanks for this, Bobby. I really did need to wind down. Maybe I'll stay in bed tonight instead of playin' hide an' go to sleep at two a.m."
"That first appointment's a regular stress-fest, ain't it?"
"Yeah, at first. I like her though. She's pretty cool. I think maybe she can get me through this."
"I know she can. You're closer to the hole. You go first."
Darien planted his feet, looked from the hole and back to his ball a few times to make sure he was aligned correctly then gently tapped the ball with his putter. To his shock, it headed directly for the white plastic cup sunk into the astro-turf, circled the rim once and dropped in. Bobby high- fived him excitedly. "Way to go, partner! I knew you'd be good at this."
"It went in. It actually went in!"
"It damn sure did. Ready for the next one? They get harder as we go."
"Oh, I'm more than ready. How about a bet? High score buys the Chinese take- out?"
"Yeah, yeah. This ain't the Masters an' you ain't Tiger Woods. Let's see how you handle the waterfall, my friend...."
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TBC......