Blythe walked out of the bedroom for a glass of water at about 11:30pm to see Greg in front of the tv softly playing some rerun of an old soap opera as he lounged there in silence; "hey mom," he muttered.
"Hey baby, what's going on?" Blythe asked, "do you want a glass of water?"
"Sure, sounds good. Thanks," Greg nodded, sitting up.
"Where's James?" Blythe asked, looking around as she handed Greg a glass of water and sat down beside Greg.
"He went to bed, probably about an hour ago. He did calm down, but I think that he was still really, really upset over everything that was said. He's really upset and feels disgusting from everything that Lisa said. He already feels emotions so deeply, so intensely, and so strongly without having this kind of crap put on him on top of that. And the weight thing, that really cuts him deeply as well. He isn't stupid or blind, he knows that he's putting on weight, but he can't help it, and its messing with his mind. And it's already hard without this. You know that James won't eat unless I eat, right? So, my colleagues at work all think that I deliberately pester him for lunch and dinner and to eat with me- but the reality is that if I don't, then he just won't eat. He will starve until he passes out at his desk. I'm really concerned that some of Lisa's comments that have been very repeated will affect his head. If he'll end up dealing with his anorexia or disordered eating again because of it. You remember what James looked like back in the 90s, don't you? How gaunt and thin he was? Back when he had really, really long hair that went down to his waist? I'm so pissed off at Lisa. She knew him back then, and she's a doctor. She knows what was going on, how couldn't she? And how much work he put into recovery, and how much I had to support him and how worried I was. Now, she just doesn't care; because that stuff doesn't go away," Greg vented.
"I remember," Blythe whispered, "he looked so, so sick back then. He was so thin. He looked like he was just skin over a skeleton," and Greg just nodded in heartbroken agreement.
"Now, I'm terrified that with all the stress of everything else that's gone on, that he will end up turning to his food intake as the only thing that he feels like he can control. That if he ends up getting sick again with it that it could kill him, men with eating disorders aren't taken seriously to begin with; and that's even if he seeks out help in the first place, which he probably won't because he thinks it's his fault entirely that he's putting on weight, and he's told me all these grand ideas for diets and things, which is really scaring me; because it's hard enough and stressful enough to force him to actually eat as it is. To eat, not just to push his food around on his plate and pick at it. Usually we end up sharing a meal, which he thinks he's doing for my sake, but really I'm just doing it so he has to eat and he knows that I know how much he eats," Greg looked upwards to drain the tears away before they fell down his face.
Blythe just wrapped her hands around him, holding him and feeling his genuine fear being palpable and as though it were radiating from him. "I'm so scared about and for him, mom, about how this is going to affect him. Lisa doesn't understand or just doesn't care about the gravity of the words she said to him today. How much it's going to wreck him. How much I've fought with him about food. How much he's fought too with his own thoughts and the demons inside his head, to be able to look at food in a healthy light; only to then be called disgusting and fat by someone who he really values the opinion of and views as a really close friend,"
Blythe sighed and just held Greg closer, "baby, you're doing everything you can to help him. James is so lucky to have you. If anyone can stop his eating disorder from relapsing, it's you,"
"It's not that simple. He already gets so, so obsessive about nutrition, food, and calories, he weighs himself at home twice a day and is always measuring himself to make sure he's not putting on inches around various parts of his body. I have to watch him like a hawk at mealtimes to make sure that he's actually eating the food and isn't just pushing it around on his plate. You know that when I make him soup or a milkshake or something that I already have to mix protein powder or something like Ensure in it so that he gets those extra calories without noticing it? Or that when I cook, I only cook when he's not at home and buy secret groceries to mix in to keep his caloric intake up to a level that's safe for a man of his height and build? I have to mix things like lard, copha, duck fat, full fat butter, buttermilk, ghee; all these other things in depending on the dish, and it's a balancing act- it needs to be enough so that it'll make a reasonable increase but not enough that he can taste it, or he won't eat any more than a few bites, and will then immediately either make himself vomit, or chug down laxative solution like water so his body won't accept it and so he spends a few hours sick on the toilet. And this behaviour was all before he went on this trip," Greg shook his head and laughed dryly, "I know I shouldn't lie to him like that but-"
"But it's the best way to keep him safe and healthy," Blythe interrupted, and Greg nodded his head.
"It's even like, we don't advertise it because we both wake up a lot earlier than Lisa, but James isn't dumb; he knows that taking olanzapine will make him gain weight no matter what he does- so getting him to take his medication to keep his moods stable and stop him from going; well psychotic, is an absolute struggle. I've not been sleeping because I know that he sneaks out to the hotel gyms at night to work out to get rid of as many calories as he can, so I have to stop him or he'll exercise himself into a cardiac arrest or something, he won't stop until his body forces him to. I'm even staying up all night tonight, and all night tomorrow if we're still here; because this hotel doesn't have a gym- and he absolutely will sneak out and spend all night running around downtown Detroit, a city he doesn't know, and will probably end up finding himself in trouble by jogging down a bad street at 3am and won't realise until he's being actively mugged, or worse. I know Detroit, I lived here for a couple of years while at university, you know that; and Uncle Rob lives here, so we visited him and Aunty Josie a lot when I was a kid, remember? There's plenty of fine areas where he'd probably be safe; but there are plenty of areas only a few blocks from those nice areas that he won't be," Greg continued venting.
"Greg, that's not your responsibility; you can't risk your own health by staying up 24/7," Blythe whispered, rubbing his back.
"It is though. He's my partner, and for him to get mugged, or worse… I couldn't forgive myself ever if I allowed that to happen. He's my one and only true love, the person I love more than anything. And the last time I allowed myself to fully fall asleep on this trip, I was sharing the spare bed at the ranch with both James and Lisa. I had a bad nightmare, mom, and a panic attack. It was only because Lisa woke up from hearing that and tried to get James up, but he wouldn't wake up. He was turning a sickening ashen blue, his skin was clammy and cool, he didn't even really have a pulse, mom, and he was barely breathing, and it was shallow, ragged, and irregular. The kind of breathing that happens immediately before death. As in seconds to a few minutes immediately before someone dies. Lisa had to do mouth to mouth on him to keep the oxygen flowing to his brain- and even then, I didn't know if he was too far gone and would be brain damaged anyway. It was only because I had Narcan in my bag that he had any chance of survival, and he needed two doses of that. I thought I'd lost him, I really had. Even after he was put in hospital, I cried like a baby for the entire three days nonstop. I was wailing like a baby, thinking he was gone forever; that I'd never get to hold him again, I'd never get to joke around with him, I'd never be able to talk to or talk things over with him again, I'd never see those big brown eyes staring back at me in a way I've never felt about anyone else in my life, I'd never hear his laugh or see his smile even one last time. I can't lose him again, mom. If that means that I have to stay awake watching crap hotel TV, then so be it," Greg admitted, before he completely broke down.
"That's terrifying," Blythe admitted to which Greg just nodded in response. "Well, if staying up all night is what we have to do, then it's what we have to do," Blythe smiled and squeezed his hand.
"Don't be silly, mom, just because I have to stay up doesn't mean you shouldn't get some rest," Greg muttered.
"And leave you here all alone, all night? Of course I won't do that," Blythe smiled, "I'm your mom, you're my son, and I love James like a son too. If this is what my boys need, then that's what they need. What else are moms for?"
"What about your migraine?" Greg asked, concern clear in his tone.
"It's passed. The triptans did their job, and I'm sure the Vicodin helped too. I slept a good amount of the afternoon and evening; I'm certain that I'll be okay, and if I'm not; then I suppose that I'll just have a nap in the morning. No biggie. I don't know if water alone will cut it though, do you want a coffee?" Blythe offered, "I'm going to get one for myself,"
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks mom," Greg accepted, "here, I'll get it for you,"
"You just stay there and rest your leg, I'll grab it," she stood up and walked over to the kitchenette and put some water on to boil.
"This isn't anything like how I expected this trip to go," Greg sighed when Blythe retuned with the steaming hot coffee. "Here, take a look at this," he pulled something out of his backpack at his feet and pulled out a red velvet box; "I bought it back in Aberdeen one afternoon when Lisa went to the mall, and James stayed behind at the ranch. I thought it was the perfect opportunity to buy it without James noticing anything," Greg opened up the box to reveal a golden ring with a few tiny, encrusted sapphires sprinkled inconspicuously along the top that shone only in the right light, which Blythe gasped in its beauty. "James has said, probably jokingly, since we started dating that he wanted a ring with sapphires to match my eyes so he could think about me whenever we're not together," Greg mumbled, flushing red with awkwardness and embarrassment. "I'd been hoping to take him to the national park one day, just the two of us and propose to him there, and that we'd start planning as soon as we got home. Obviously, that wasn't meant to be after what dad did,"
"Greg, your dad might not be at the wedding, but that doesn't mean that I won't be. I expect to be at yours and James' wedding. I don't know what James' family are like, how accepting they are; but even if they're not, you're both still going to always have a mom who loves and adores both of you and would do anything for either of you, and that is a promise," Blythe hugged her son, "the original proposal plan didn't work out, and that sucks, but the right time and place will present itself when the time is ready. I promise,"
"I don't know what James' family are going to think, or how they're going to react to the news," Greg sighed, shaking his head; "they've been nice when I've met them; but while they're not particularly religious, at least not as far as some Jewish families are; I don't think that they will necessarily be happy with James marrying another man. They're unhappy enough with him that he's been divorced three times. They're also fairly conservative. At least for Canadians," Greg joked dryly, "and James is their golden child; they're not going to be happy with him marrying another man because that means that they're never going to get biological grandchildren, and I get the feeling that bloodlines mean a lot to them. Although, given that James has been married three times before, and before we got together, he really got around; he was quite the party boy- I think, looking back that he probably did that as some kind of coping mechanism or way to prove to himself and others that he was straight before he admitted it to me that he had feelings for me. But because of all that, I wouldn't be surprised if he can't have kids, for whatever reason; given that there's no little James Juniors and Jamies running around,"
"You still have time to think about those things down the line if that's what you want," Blythe comforted.
"Yeah," Greg smiled, and they sat in silence for a few minutes until Greg turned the TV up a little louder when he noticed that a rerun of 'The X-Files', one of his mom's favourite television shows was about to begin, and they both relaxed into the couch, hearing James snore away in the bedroom, and seeing the snow fall slowly through the small window, as they both settled in for a long night, but glad to be in the company of each other; and Greg was glad that he was able to get so much of the things that had been worrying him off his chest, knowing that his mom would take the conversation to the grave for him.
