Hello, My Name is... - 5. Chapter 5 My reality...

He stirred, coming out of sleep at the sound of familiar voices off in the distance and blinked several times trying to focus. He yawned as he glanced around the room noticing the small person that laid next to him last night had gone, all that was left behind was his ‘Captain America’ blanket. The aroma of fresh coffee and cinnamon wafted through the air, luring him awake. He could hear talking; little voices that belonged to Liam and Ethan and a rich deep voice that belonged to his…husband. Christian sighed, feeling disenchanted as he gathered the little blanket in his arms and pulled it tightly against his chest, holding on to it as if his life depended on it. He remembered it and it felt good to remember something without thinking so hard.

He rested his head against his pillow, tracing the fullness of his lips with the tip of his fingers, and yes he remembered that too…David’s lips for the briefest of moment’s pressed against his own. The feeling was prodigious to say the least, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with that just yet. He sat up and reached for the bottle on the nightstand. Popping the cap, he shook two pills into the palm of his hand, and tossed them into his mouth, chasing them down with the water he had left from last night. He rolled over onto his side facing the wall, clutched his son’s blanket and wept silently.

…

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sleeping when the light tapping at the door stirred him from his heavy slumber. “Chris?” David’s voice was soft and gentle as he crept further into the room. “Hey, Baby,” he whispered as he eased closer to the bed.

“Yes.” Christian rolled over; his cheeks still tear stained and his eyes heavy.

David creased his brow. “Are you okay? How did you sleep?” He asked with concern while trying to gauge Christian’s demeanor.

“I’m fine,” Christian lied and looked away quickly, avoiding David’s stare.

“Chris.” David sat down on the bad and rested his hand on Christian’s arm. “I’m here for you; you know that, don’t you?” Christian nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. “I called Dr. Reeder and confirmed your appointment for this afternoon.”

“Thank you.” His voice was small and barley above a whisper.

“Um…here.” He handed him a ‘Blackberry.’ “Here’s your phone, it’s all charged. I have a meeting this morning with a client.” Christian’s body stiffened and David picked up on it immediately. “Don’t worry I’ll only be gone a few hours, I promise,” He assured him.

“You’re leaving me…alone?”

“This was not my idea,” David clarified, “I was going to work from home and do a conference call, but Dr. Reeder thought you could use the quiet time, but Chris-“

“No, no,” Christian interrupted, “its fine,” he said reaching for his phone. He examined the device, running his fingers over the key pad. “What about Liam and Ethan?” He asked, trying to get the phone to work. “Are you programmed in here; I mean if I need you?”

“Of course, let me show you.”

David took the phone from his husband and pressed a few buttons, bringing the phone to life. “Right here.” He pointed out even as he handed it back to Christian. “I was going to drop the boys off at school until I’m done,” David said, answering his first question. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I mean only a three hours…tops.”

“I’m sure.” Christian forced a small smile. David nodded and sighed, second guessing himself and the doctor as to whether or not this was a good idea.

“Liam and Ethan go to school?” Christian questioned even as he scanned the contacts in his phone hoping he’s recognize a name or number. “Aren’t they a little young?”

“It’s a Montessori school down the street. They have a great pre-K program; besides, they only go half a day. Tibby usually keeps them until either one of us is free to pick them up, but today I’ll get them.”

“Oh.”

“Daddy, all done!?” Ethan yelled from the other room. Christian arched his brow curiously as he rose up on his elbow; both he and David glanced toward the hallway.

“Potty time.” David grinned.

“Okaayyy.” Christian chuckled softly into his fist.

“Duty calls.” David smiled as he pushed himself off the bed. “Oh, I’m making coffee and French toast.” He bounced his brows playfully, hoping to whet Christian’s appetite before heading out.

“All that, and he cooks too.” Christian sighed through a nervous giggle before burying his face into his pillow.

~*~*~

Christian stepped hesitantly down the hall making his way toward the familiar, jovial voices coming from the kitchen. His eyes widened as he rounded the corner. He loved it. He didn’t get to see it last night, since he’d blacked out prematurely before dinner, but the kitchen was huge. It had lots of windows and a sliding glass door leading onto a screened in patio. The Viking appliances and titled floors offset the cherry wood cabinets and granite countertops perfectly. And the stove top was built inside the contoured island in the center of the kitchen. This was truly a chef or amateur cook’s dream. He could tell a lot thought went into the design of it.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the scene playing out before him, wondering if this was their morning ritual. Ethan sat in his booster seat drinking milk from his ‘Sippy cup, his little fingers and mouth a sticky mess, while Liam waited impatiently for his dad to finish his breakfast. With a spatula in one hand and plate in the other, David effortlessly flipped the cinnamon toast onto the plate and sprinkled it with powdered sugar before placing it in front of his son, tousling his hair before returning to his task.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Liam said while reaching for the syrup.

‘There’s the cook in this family,’ Christian thought to himself as he made his presence known. “Morning.” He waved shyly, not wanting to intrude on their family time.

“Morning, Daddy. Morning, Sunshine,” both Liam and David greeted with a warm smile. Ethan was still sucking strong on his Sippy cup so he had to swallow first.

“Daddy!” He giggled happily, bouncing in his seat while using both hands to set his cup down on the table. “Morning.”

“Hey, Buddy.” Christian smiled as he stepped further into the kitchen.

“Breakfast?” David asked even as he dipped another slice of bread into the egg batter. He had the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt was rolled up to his elbows, with his navy tie flipped over his shoulder to keep it from getting soiled, looking like a master chef.

“I’m not that hungry, but a hot cup of coffee sounds nice.”

“You didn’t eat last night, Chris, you really should eat something,” David advised lovingly. Christian shrugged and lowered his head. “But coffee is a good start.” David smiled sensing a little uneasiness.

“Thank you,” Christian said through a half smile.

“Have a seat and I’ll get you a cup,” David offered.

“More, Daddy.” Ethan grinned; holding up is empty plate, oblivious to the fact that there was syrup dripping on the table.

“Ethan!?” David chided through a heavy sigh while reaching for some paper towels. Christian laughed in amusement, watching as David cleaned off the table and Ethan hands.

“You’ve got your hands full, I’ll get it,” Christian offered stopping short of the cabinets. He narrowed his eyes and remembered he didn’t know where anything was. “Um….” He sighed combing his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, yeah…” David glanced over his shoulder. “To your left, in the cabinet.”

Christian got a cup and filled it with coffee. He spotted the creamer and Splenda on the counter. “I like the kitchen,” he commented while stirring his coffee. “I take it you like to cook.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” David replied as he made his way over to the stove. He had gotten Ethan all cleaned up and was about the drop another piece of toast into the skillet. Christian took a careful dip of coffee and rested his back against the counter, crossing one leg over the other casually.

“I may not remember much, but I know for a fact I can’t even boil water.”

“Burn it every time.” David laughed.

“Hey!” Christian objected playfully and swatted at David.

“Well…” David shrugged his shoulders. “When you’re right…”

“It’s nice anyway.” Christian nodded as he admired the layout.

“I just told you what I wanted and you made it happen,” David praised while flipping over the toast. “I’ll tell you Christian, you’ve single handedly remodeled this whole house.”

“Really?” Christian questioned incredulously.

“Yes. We’re doing pretty well financially, so you decided to go part time, that way you could be home with the boys and work on our house,” David stated casually while reaching for another plate. “Your last major project was the medical office building where you had the…” He stopped suddenly when he noticed the smile on Christian’s face fade. “I’m sorry, Chris.” He frowned through a deep breath.

“It’s okay,” Christian said as he tightened his hands around the warm mug. “It’s where I had the accident,” He stated more than asked.

“Yeah…” David said faintly. He turned off the stove and sat the pan aside. Christian felt bad, noticing the crestfallen expression on David’s face and stepped forward, careful not to invade his space. He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled. “It’s okay…really.”

“Not for me, Christian. Not for me,” he murmured softly. “It was the worst day of my life. I thought I lost you forever.” He looked into Christian’s eyes, sharing a forlorn glance. “So, this right here.” He gestured between the two of them. “I can take this. This beats the alternative any day. I really appreciate you deciding to come home with us.”

Christian ducked his head shyly. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he found that he had closed the space between them, feeling the need to provide comfort. He hated seeing David so sad. He stepped back, dropping his hand to his side and cleared his throat. “You know, I think I’ll have some French toast after all.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sure.” David beamed excitedly, and at that moment, Christian decided he’d much rather see David smiling. There was a moment of comfortable silence shared between them before Christian spoke up again.

“So, because I can’t remember.” He laughed humorously, inciting a light chuckle from David as well. “What type of work do you do?” He asked peering over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Oh. I’m a Financial Advisor for Dean Witter,” David answered while flipping over the toast.

“More milk, please,” Liam sang out, reminding his daddies that he was in the room.

“Okay,” David called over Christian’s shoulder.

“I’ll get it,” Christian offered as he opened the refrigerator door.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Well, you can’t cook, tend to the boys and talk to me at the same time.” Christian blushed slyly.

David stood behind the island, smiling admiringly, while watching Christian interact with their sons. He missed seeing them together and heart swelled with appreciation and with just a little bit of hope.

…

“So, you tell people how to spend their money,” Christian teased, as he settled down at the table next to Ethan who was working on his second piece of French toast.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that, though it’s more like corporations,” David added taking his seat across from his husband.

“But wait.” He narrowed his gaze at the handsome young man sitting across from him. “How old are you? You seem a little young for that type of job,” Christian noted. “When I think of a Financial Advisor, I think of old, balding men with beer bellies, smoking cigars.” He giggled while cutting into his French toast.

“And an office smelling like ‘Brut, right...’” David laughed.

“Yeah…” Christian muttered through a mouth full of food.

“Those days are gone. And to answer your question, I’m thirty-three,” David informed him before pouring syrup over his toast.

“So, I’ve got you by a couple of years,” Christian acknowledged, remembering that he was thirty-five. “That’s an impressive skill you’ve got that there.” He winked before cutting into his breakfast.

David ducked his head trying to hide his reddened cheeks. As Christian took another bite, he couldn’t help noticing David’s blush and he could tell he didn’t take compliments very well. He also couldn’t help noticing how blue his eyes were.

They ate, keeping the conversation light and casual between them with Ethan and Liam offering their two cents every now and then.

“You’ve got to help me out here,” Christian said as he polished off his breakfast. “Who rides?”

“Huh?”

“The bike, whose is it?”

“Oh, lord, that’s you all the way,” David replied while reaching for his coffee. “I value my life too much to get on one of those.” He laughed. “You might get me on a scooter, a push one at that.”

Christian laughed and shook his head amusingly. “I’ve always loved riding,” He admitted with a dreamy faraway look in his eyes. “My mom wouldn’t let me have one growing up.”

“I know.”

“Can we ride, Daddy?” Ethan asked with wide, curious eyes.

“No, son,” David shook his head, answering before Christian could.

“Awww…” Christian pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, feigning hurt feelings. “Sorry, Kiddo, but daddy said no.”

“What about me, Daddy, can I ride?” Liam asked sitting up like a big boy.

“Umm, how old are you?” David questioned through a devious grin.

“I’m 4 years old,” Liam announced proudly trying to hold up four fingers.”

David leaned forward, squinting his gaze at the little tyke and asked, “You wanna live to see five?”

“David!” Christian objected, sending him a stern glare before turning his attention back to his son. “Not today, Son.” Christian frowned playfully. “But if you’re a good boy, I’ll see if I can talk your dad into letting me take you around the block, if I promise to go really slow and you wear a helmet.

“Awww, okay,” Liam pouted.

David wiped his mouth and pushed himself up from his chair. “Come on boys, it’s time to get you to school,” he announced while picking up his plate. A small smile creased his lips when he noticed Christian standing up to grab Liam and Ethan’s plates.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem…really.” Christian smiled as he headed to the sink. He inhaled deeply feeling David’s presence behind him. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him for David’s scent was strong, yet not overbearing, some might call it intoxicating. He closed his eyes willing his body not to respond to the closeness, swaying slightly.

“Are you okay?” He heard David’s voice even as he felt the strong hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah.” He nodded while swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

~*~*~

“I’ll be fine!” Christian waved after shoving David and the boys out of the house, but not before David gave him the grand tour showing him things he felt were important. Even though his phone number was programmed in Christian’s phone, he insisted on writing it, along with the office number on a pad kept by the house phone just in case.

He closed and locked the door behind them and rested his back against it. He heaved a heavy sigh upon noticing how quiet it had gotten. Not only was he alone, but he felt lonely. “Okay,” He said to no one in particular, “Might as well do as the doctor ordered and see what I can remember.” He pushed himself off the door and headed for the kitchen to finish the dishes.

…

Ethan and Liam’s room was neat and tidy for a little boy’s room. Christian glanced around taking everything in; from the bunk beds, to their dressers, even the stuffed animals that littered their little beds. He assumed that Liam slept on the top bunk because he was older. His eyes stopped at their closet and he chuckled softly noticing how the adjustable clothes rods were just high enough for them to reach their own clothes.

He picked up the Paddington Bear off Ethan’s bed and held it tightly, hoping to stir something. He inhaled deeply and smiled. He didn’t understand how he knew this, but it smelled like his son. He gently placed it back on the bed just the way he found it and moved to the bookshelf in the corner. He lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs Indian style admiring the array of DVDs and books. He ran his fingers over each book as he read off the titles, and he had to admit he was impressed with their little collection.

…

After a while, he padded down the hall, wearing a pair of gray drawstring pants and a tee shirt sipping some Arizona Tea, he’d found in the refrigerator. His next stop was the study. He stepped down into to the room and his eyes immediately landed on the desk with all the blueprints and sketches scattered about. He couldn’t help but smile as he got closer seeing his name scribbled on different documents. “Wow,” He muttered to himself as he sat down in the big, wingback leather chair.

There was something familiar about this room. He felt comfortable sitting there, almost as if he belonged here. He ran his hands gingerly over everything; papers, pens and markers. He couldn’t explain the lump that had formed in his throat or the tear that streaked down his cheek. He noticed the Architecture Weekly calendar, more specifically the date that was circled in red. “Why is that date circled?” He questioned aloud. He wanted nothing more than to remember. A simple date and he couldn’t remember it. “Shit.”

He took a gulp of tea, when he noticed a few pictures on the desk on the other side of the room. He assumed that was David’s based on all the finance magazines and the oversized calculator on the desk. He couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that David’s desk was neater than his. “So,” He said as he pushed himself up and walked toward his husband’s desk.

He sat down in his chair, spinning it from side to side, not really wanting to disturb anything. He bit on his thumb nail spying out every little thing. He traced his fingers lightly over the key pad, clicking on the ‘plus’ key absent mindedly. “If only I could remember.” He sighed.

He scratched above his brow when his eyes spotted a picture at the corner of the desk. “What’s-“He reached over, tracing his fingers over the silver 5x7 frame of him and David before picking it up to get a closer look. Their smiles were as bright as a 4^th of July sky. They looked happy together. “Think,” He willed himself, but drew a blank. The picture was at night and they appeared to be in some sort of garden surrounded by red roses. He instinctively combed his fingers through his hair, noticing that in the picture it was longer. Many scenarios played in his head and all of a sudden, he dropped the frame as if he touched something hot.

“Oh my god.” He cupped his hand over his mouth. “What if this is our…” He tried to swallow the dryness in his throat. In the picture they were both wearing black tuxedos with white ties to match their tuxedo styled white shirts. They both wore a red rose on their lapel. He struggled to breathe as the reality started to sink in. Yes, he was told they were, and yes, he said he believed them, but…

He placed the picture back where he found it, grabbed his tea and made a quick exit.

David called for the fourth time, checking in on Christian, letting him know he was finishing up at the office and would be heading back home after picking up the boys.

He stood at the door, afraid to go inside. He knew he had to do this, he needed to. He felt like a child afraid of darkness. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there waiting to consume him. He owed it to Liam and Ethan. He owed it David to try, but more importantly he owed it to himself and his own sanity. He steeled himself and took a deep breath before stepping through the threshold.

It looked like any other bedroom, a bed…dresser, two night stands and a flat screen television mounted on the wall above an antique armoire, which stood out like a sore thumb. He made his way over to get a closer look and smiled as he ran his fingers over the unfinished wood. He noticed that someone, either him or David had started staining the side with a dark varnish to match the rest of the furniture. Stepping back he opened the cabinet to find nothing in particular, a few folders, a box of Italian handkerchiefs that had never been opened, along with a few other knick-knacks, but nothing that held any memory. He carefully closed the door, scanning the room before deciding to check out the closet next.

He stood in the middle, not sure whose side was whose, but what he could tell was that they both loved to shop. There were double rows of shirts and pants on either side, some still had the sales tags on them. Mounds and mounds of folded jeans and tees were housed above boxes of dress and casual shoes. He noticed a pair of running shoes tossed in the corner and glanced down at his feet wondering if they were his. His eyes slowly glanced up and he gasped, placing his hand over his heart. He couldn’t believe he still had it after all these years; his high school letterman jacket. “Wow.” He carefully took the jacket off the hanger and he was surprised that it was still in such great shape. “This!” he laughed, “This I remember,” He said happily as he tried it on, shocked to see that it still fit. It was slightly snug around the hip area, but other than that…

…

He sat down of the edge of the bed, placing the jacket next to him as if it was an old friend, and to him it was. It was something he remembered, something he could connect with. He ran his hands gingerly over the duvet. The colors, a soft brown and mauve, coordinated well with the rest of the furniture and accessories. He didn’t want to snoop, but again that was the reason for this scavenger hunt with said treasure being his memory.

He pulled open the drawer on the night stand, fingering through its contents. Toward the back of the drawer was a vintage, cream colored box that caught his eye. It looked pretty important. He carefully pulled it out and set it on the bed. “Let’s see what memories this unlocks…if any.” He sighed taking a deep breath before lifting the top. His cheeks turned crimson red and an audible sound escaped his lips when saw what was inside. “Shit…” He said faintly, “What the hell?” He narrowed his eyes afraid to touch anything. Inside the box was a tube of KY, warming lubricant, a plastic pair of hand cuffs and a ring of some kind. But what really sparked his curiosity was a string of metal beads. “What in the hell do you do with these? You don’t put these around your neck… do you?” He asked as he carefully pulled them from the box. “Man, these guys are freaks.” He snickered softly as he placed them back inside the box.

“Wait…these guys are us. Oh my god, do we? Surely we don’t.” He placed the top back on and set it back in its original spot. “Hum, it’s a good thing I don’t remember that,” he stated snidely as he noticed a stack of greeting cards with a light blue ribbon wrapped around them.

“This is better, cards.” He slipped the ribbon off and sorted through them. “Happy Birthday, eh?” He opened the card and a soft smile creased his lips. “To the handsomest, hunkest, sexiest husband on the face of the planet….” He read aloud as he rested his back against the pillows. He placed that one to the side and picked up another one. This one had a hand written message at the bottom which he read. “They say everyone needs someone. I’m just glad that the someone I need is you.” Christian sighed sadly when he read the signature. “Love always… Chris.” He tried to steady his breathing as his eyes read over the words again. “Love always,” he repeated as he felt tears fill his eyes. He swallowed hard and put the card aside. “Happy Anniversary,” he read, biting on his bottom lip. He scanned down to the hand written message again. “My sight is filled with one image at the center, and that’s you. I couldn’t see around you if I tried. You are my Big Picture, forever your husband, Christian.” He picked through card after card. “You complete me. If I ever lose this heaven. You give good loving…” All sighed by him to David.

Emotions the size of a tidal wave washed over him, almost drowning him. He was reading words he didn’t remember writing, it still didn’t register. The truth of the matter was- it appeared he loved this man and this man loved him. His hands were shaking so hard he couldn’t even get the ribbon back around the cards, not that he cared. He felt as if he was suffocating. He needed to get out of this room, it was too much, and he needed to breathe. “I’m gay,” he admitted as if he was trying to convince himself. Tears spilled down his cheek as he thought about his reality, when it hit him… “My father must have...” He choked out as he shoved the cards back in the drawer and slammed the door. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

…

“Okay, it’s just like riding a bike…literally,” he mouthed faintly as he started the engine on his Kawasaki Vulcan Voyager. He had found the keys, changed his clothes and was off. He took a deep breath, securing his helmet as he shifted into first. He had to admit, it felt good being on the bike, it felt like something he remembered. He picked up speed, shifting into second, tightly gripping the handlebars as he did so. With the sound of the engine humming in his ears and the wind against his face, he felt in control and it gave him a rush. He was riding on pure adrenalin, leaving everything and everyone behind. He didn’t know where he was heading, but he was sure he would know when he got there…