Chapter 7
Charlie knew that the students subletting Larry's apartment had moved out last week, at the end of the semester. He also knew that at least one of them would be back for the second summer session, so Larry just planned to leave it empty for six weeks. Charlie reached him in his office at 10, and went for the shock factor.
"Larry. Archimedes and I are separated. I stayed with Don this weekend, but I really need some time away from everybody, to…to concentrate. I know your apartment is empty. Let me have it, just for a month."
"Charles. I'm still grading finals. If this is some sort of joke…"
"Please, Larry."
Silence for a few seconds. Then, "Oh, dear. You're serious. You're always welcome to stay with Megan and I."
"Lar. What part of 'alone' is escaping you?"
Eventually, as he had known he would, Larry caved. Even spent his lunch hour — a time when Charlie knew Alan would be out of the house volunteering at a local soup kitchen — picking Charlie up at Don's, taking him home for a few more things, then delivering him to the apartment.
Larry stood at the door and offered him a set of keys. "Charles, I…"
"You need to get back to campus. I need to not talk about this right now. Thank you, for letting me stay here. I'll pay what your students have been paying."
Larry sighed. "Charles. You will not pay. And we will talk about this. You can't hide from me forever — I know where you live. But now, you're right, I have to get back to campus. Do you have a therapy session this afternoon?"
Charlie nodded. "I'll call my Dad's cell, and have him pick me up here instead of at Don's."
Larry raised a hand to chew on a nail. "Please take care of yourself, Charles."
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Alan was already en route to Don's to pick him up. He wondered why Charlie was at Larry's old apartment, but he figured his son would explain that when he got there.
He wasn't thrilled with the explanation.
He was less thrilled when Charlie told him he wouldn't need to be picked up after his therapy session, or need any more rides. He was going to start taking the bus.
"I've already checked the routes, Dad. I can get from the apartment to the clinic in one transfer. I need to start building some stamina, so on Friday the doctor will give me work clearance."
Alan held his tongue. It nearly killed him.
Charlie paused, hand on the door handle, after Alan had pulled up in front of the clinic. He was looking out the window, away from his father. "Dad. Thank you. For the ride, and for trying to understand. Don't bother Don about this at work, please. He doesn't need the distraction — and frankly, neither do I. I'm working, here. I'm sure he'll call me after he gets home."
Alan sighed. Charlie seemed to be making everyone sigh, today.
"I'll try to give you some space. But I won't let you disappear."
Charlie turned to him and smiled. "Counting on that, Dad."
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Don must have had to work late, again. It was 7 before Charlie heard his ringtone. He steeled himself and flipped open the cell.
"I need this, Don. Please let me have this."
Great, Don thought. One line and the wind is completely blown out of all my arguments…
"Just take care of yourself," he finally said.
"It's Larry's apartment, Don, not Indo-China."
"Do it anyway. I've only got the one brother."
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By 8, he was exhausted. He was on the way to bed when the doorbell rang. He considered not answering it, but did, finally. Alan, plastic grocery bags looped over each arm, pushed past him.
"I won't stay. I had all those frozen casseroles, and you need to eat. And I got a few more things at the store. The drinks are supposed to be supplements to your meals, Charlie, you still need actual meals."
Charlie stood silently at the entrance to the kitchen and watched his father put things away. Unbidden, thoughts ran through his head as if on tickertape. He loves me. This hurts him. I need them. Dad. Don. Larry. Is that enough, or do I need Archimedes, too? How can I figure this out?
Alan finished stocking the kitchen and looked at Charlie for a long moment. He picked his car keys up off the counter and started to leave, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, next to Charlie, to speak quietly. "You get some rest, now." After years of practice, he could read Charlie's mind sometimes. Often that scared him. Sometimes it just made him sad. Like tonight. He slid a hand behind Charlie's neck and brought their heads together gently. "You will, you know. You'll figure it out."
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Don had been in meetings all day Monday, but on Tuesday, he called Archie into his office. This was awkward. He had to be careful how he did this.
"Agent Travis. I will say to you exactly what I said to one of your fellow agents just a few weeks ago. I understand that you're having difficulties at home. It doesn't matter how it came to my attention. The fact is that it did."
"Assistant Director Eppes, I'm handling that. Sir."
Man-handling was more like it, he thought, and forced himself back to what he had rehearsed. "You understand that as a federal Agent you have a responsibility to yourself, as well as your fellow Agents."
"Sir?"
"As Assistant Director of this office, all Agents are my responsibility. I will not have any of them endangered because one of them is having difficulty concentrating. If you need to request a leave of absence, or to be relieved of field duty, this is the time to say it."
"Assistant Director, I assure you that I am fine in the field. My mind is on my work. I take my responsibility to my fellow agents very seriously."
What about your responsibility to my brother? Again, Don reined himself in. "Then the last I will say about this today is to remind you of the resources available to you here in the L.A. office. If you'd rather not see an in-house counselor, we can arrange for referrals to those in private practice. A specialist in a certain field, for instance."
A smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you, Assistant Director. If my husband and I decide to see a marriage counselor, I'm sure we can find one on our own."
He nodded. "I won't bring this up again, unless your team leader or others come to me in concern over your work habits. If it reaches that point, we will have a much less civil discussion. Understood, Agent Travis?"
"Absolutely, Assistant Director." She turned and left the office.