Out of His Mind - 2. Philip

Chapter 2

Philip

Philip pulled into his driveway, and turned off the car. He got out and walked around to help Tait out and collect his bag.

As Philip pulled his suitcase from the car, Tait unfolded himself from Phil’s 2015 Mercedes-Benz SLC, and admired his friend’s beautiful ranch-style home. It was stone but had been painted white; the roof and overhangs were also white – the overall effect was stunning.

After he stepped from the driveway, Tait walked on the light-gray cement of the portico, and held on to one of the three thin gray columns that supported the permanent awning, which covered the front door and whole front of the house.

Philip joined Tait on the portico. “You okay?”

Tait nodded and turned to smile at his friend.

“Good. Let’s go in and get you settled.”

Philip unlocked the front door and ushered Tait inside.

Tait had always admired Philip’s taste. He had had the whole of the house, except the kitchen, painted a charming dove gray. It worked because Philip filled the house with color in other ways: bright fabrics, cushions, paintings and other art. And of course, books – mountains of them. Philip adored the written word in its paper form.

The house was large and had a kitchen, a family and living room, two and a half bathrooms and four bedrooms – one of which had been converted to a nice home office.

Philip led the way as he took Tait to a newly remodeled bedroom. He opened the door to a beautiful private guest room. Again done in dove gray, but the bright blues and silver fabrics helped lift it. There was a queen-sized bed, a large chest of drawers, two accent chairs and a bedside table. There was a small desk as well, a wall-mounted television and on the south wall, peacock-blue drapes covered a wall made of glass blocks and windowpanes. The sliding door opened onto a private patio and tiny garden.

“This is nice, Philip. Is it new?” Tait walked to the sliding door and noticed there were two Adirondack chairs, a small table, and large clay pots filled with bright-red geraniums, which sat under the large coral tree. The tree itself blazed with gorgeous red blooms.

“The room isn’t new of course, but the wall was redone in glass, and the door put in. I wanted guests to have some privacy when they were staying. You like it?”

Tait nodded. “Yeah, it’s great. And you can get through to the pool as well, I see.”

“Mmm hmm, that would be good for you. To get some exercise.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. When did you have it done?”

“About four months ago … um … just after you went into the hospital.”

Drawing in a breath sharply, Tait nodded.

“Sorry, T.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m overly sensitive.” Tait sat on the bed and shook his head. “Stuff happened while I was in there, I know that.”

“Well, make yourself at home. Unpack your things. Then come out to the kitchen; we’ll make some coffee and have a bite to eat, okay?”

Tait rose and walked to his friend, who opened his arms. “Thank you, Philip. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t ever have to find out, T. I promise. I’ll always be here for you.”

Tait laughed and stepped out of Phil’s warm hug. “You may live to regret those words.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Philip walked to the door and paused. “See you in ten minutes?”

“Yes, Phil. I’ll be there.”

Philip stood at the counter and made several sandwiches. Roast beef on rye, and cheddar cheese and tomato on white. As he prepared a salad to go with the sandwiches, he thought about how he’d met Tait.

<<>*<>>

Philip had always liked the written word. In school he worked on the school paper and yearbook committee. He took journalism in college, and landed a junior position with Scene Magazine, an LGBT publication when he graduated. Phil’s heart’s desire was to work for a publishing house, and he worked slowly and deliberately toward that goal. Philip had come a long way since his days as a reporter for Scene Magazine. He’d finally reached his goal of becoming a well-respected commissioning editor.

However, he’d still been a reporter for Scene Magazine when he first met Tait. His assignment was covering local events. Tait was an up and coming super-model. He was going to be in town to support an AIDS charity. Philip asked for an interview, and one had been granted. He’d been told Tait would contact him personally to arrange a place and time.

Philip had been surprised when Tait had actually called.

“Philip Lawrence?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Tait Adamsen. Listen, I’m free for dinner tonight, if you are. Can I buy, and we’ll chat then?”

Philip thought quickly and then replied, “Um sure, that sounds great.”

“Good, you know the local area; somewhere quiet but tasty would be good.”

“Okay. How about the Dunsmuir at seven? I’ll give you the directions – ”

They met at the Dunsmuir House at the appointed time, in the bar. Philip had ensured he’d arrived early and was nursing a rum and coke as he waited. He’d chosen a table that allowed him a view of the entrance.

Philip had dealt with famous people and celebrities before, and knew there would be the usual entourage and hangers-on when Tait arrived. He was still learning to deal with them.

As he stirred his drink, he watched the entrance and saw Tait enter – alone. Philip stood to catch Tait’s attention. The latter noticed and smiled as he walked toward Philip. Tait took Phil’s extended hand and shook it – firmly and warmly.

After the usual hello’s, they sat. The waiter arrived and took Tait’s order of unsweetened iced tea with lemon, and then Tait turned his full attention to Philip.

“First, thank you for agreeing to this interview Tait. Frankly, and please don’t be offended, I was surprised you did. I mean, I know you must be busy.”

“It’s no problem. I’ve read Scene and I like to support Community publications.”

Philip nodded and went on to ask about the fashion show, and Tait’s part in it, and then decided to test the waters on a more personal level.

“So, um, Tait, is there anyone special in your life?”

Tait sat back and smiled. “No, no one that special; my love life isn’t that spectacular.”

“You’ve been linked romantically with a couple of designers and photographers – the most current being Leonardo Amiello. Isn’t that right?”

“Well, yes that’s true. Leonardo and I are quite close. He’s a lovely man.”

“You’ve been seen as his escort at a number of events. Rumors are flying about you both. Is there anything more you’d like to tell us?”

Tait looked decidedly uncomfortable as he shook his head, no.

Philip put down his pencil and turned off his micro-recorder. “You’re not going to say any more about that, are you?”

“No. I like to keep my private life somewhat private.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you Phil? Anyone special in your life?”

Philip’s mouth gaped for a second before he recovered. “Oh, no not really. My job kind of gets in the way.”

“Really?”

“No.” Philip laughed. “I guess I just haven’t met the right guy.”

Tait considered what Phil had said for a minute, and then replied, “You never know when you will. Just keep an open mind, my friend.”

As Tait had stared, then spoke, Phil wondered about the younger man – had there been a message for him in that last sentence? Mentally shaking his head, he thought, ‘Oh get over yourself, Phil. You just met. Why would someone like Tait Adamsen be interested in you? And more importantly, he’s involved; don’t even think about breaking your rules now.’

The pair chatted companionably while they ate a light meal. Once it was over Tait provided Philip with his card and asked him to keep in touch. Tait then said he had other appointments to keep. He and Philip shook hands and said their farewells.

<<>*<>>

Philip stopped his ruminations when Tait appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Everything in the kitchen had been painted white: cupboards, walls and ceiling; the bead-board wainscoting was white as well. The color came from a bright boarder that was painted just above the chair rail; hand painted, it was a green vine from which bright red strawberries grew. The kitchen hardware was silver and red, and the counter-top was Lapponia Green marble; it looked like waves of emerald with creamy white brush strokes. Tait found it a comforting space.

Philip turned from his preparations and grinned. “Tait, come in – have a seat. Do you want to eat here, or in front of the television, or outdoors?”

Tait glanced at the small rectangular table. The pine-top was smooth and worn. He smiled at Philip. “Here, let’s just stay in here. Is that okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine. Here, can you put these out?” Philip placed linen napkins, knives, forks, and plates on the table. “Can you have a glass of wine? Or, do you even want one; I have soft drinks, water, whatever you’d like.”

“What wine? I can have one.” Tait arranged the silverware, napkins, and plates.

“Got a nice dry white, or white zinfandel; I know you like that.” Philip pulled a bottle from the fridge.

Grinning, Tait said, “You know me too well, Philip. Don’t you ever forget anything?”

Philip just smiled and put the bottle on the counter to open it and he thought, ‘Not when it comes to you. No, I don’t.’

Philip poured two glasses of the semi-sweet wine and put them on the table. He returned to the counter and tossed the garden salad with a simple oil and vinegar dressing, then added salt and pepper. Picking up the salad bowl and the plate of sandwiches, he put them on the table and sat down.

“Go ahead, Tait. Help yourself.”

Tait served himself salad, and took half of a roast beef sandwich and half a cheese and tomato. He watched Philip do the same.

Picking up the rose-colored wine, Philip said, “To you, T – to a complete recovery and new beginnings.”

Tait raised his glass and sipped. The sweet wine was crisp and cold. He forced himself to eat, the medication he was on affected his appetite. This was also one of the reasons the time schedule at the hospital made life easier – the food just arrived and he ate it, knowing he had to. Without the schedule he worried he’d forget, or just not bother, but Phil would be unlikely to let that happen.

Tait sipped his wine and gazed at the pink liquid in the plain glass goblet. “Philip?”

Philip glanced up and put his fork down. “Yes?”

Tait pushed a bit of lettuce with his fork and then regarded his friend; his green-gray eyes sought Philip’s warm chocolate-brown ones. “Philip, what am I going to do?”

Philip saw the sadness in his friend’s eyes and as much as part of him wanted to gather Tait in his arms and never let him go – he couldn’t. “Tait … please. Please don’t do this. Right now you don’t need to do anything.”

The forceful return of the fork to the plate surprised Philip, who jumped slightly at the sound. Those eyes were now the colour of a green stormy sea. “Fuck! Don’t you fucking do this too, Philip! Oh, don’t worry, just rest, just be a fucking useless waste ….”

Philip swallowed and took a deep breath. They’d told him Tait may have outbursts and that he needed to stay calm in the face of them. “Tait.”

Tait continued to rant and Philip tried again, his tone slightly sharper this time, “Tait! Stop it.”

This time Tait heard and he stopped, hung his head and tried to steady his breathing. “I … I’m sorry.”

Philip felt his heart break a little. “It’s okay, no need to be sorry.” He got up and walked around the table, and pulled the younger man to his feet. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Listen. Just be quiet and trust me; come on.”

Philip walked Tait through the house to the back of the living room and out the sliding doors. It was after 6pm and the sun was starting to set. Philip’s house was in the Burbank Hills and his property backed on to unspoiled land. It was here Philip took Tait for a short walk. They sat on a large rock and Philip put his arm around Tait’s shoulders; he spoke quietly, “It’s lovely out here, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Phil. I’m sorry, sometimes I get so angry.” He leaned into his friend. “Sorry. I’m not angry with you.”

“I know that, T. I know it’s something you can’t really help, but you need to try. You’ll learn that control again, slowly.”

Tait sighed; he was frustrated and tired. “Yes, Phil. I remember the doc saying that.”

“You just need time, and patience.”

“I’m trying. But Philip –” Tait turned to gaze at his friend. “What will I do? I mean once I’m better. I can’t model anymore, I mean look at me, who’d want me now?”

That was it; Philip felt a piece of his heart fall away. “Tait, things will work out. The scar isn’t as bad as you think. You’re still handsome, and still the wonderful guy I’ve known for what … ten years now? You can also get a second opinion about more surgery if you want to.”

“I thought it was a plastic surgeon that stitched this?”

“It was, but you can see another one. The guy in the hospital said the scar would settle down, but you had to give it time. And well Tait, honestly it’s not that big.”

Tait rested his head against Philip’s broad shoulders and nodded.

As the sun slowly kissed the horizon, the blue sky was streaked with red and gold, and pillows of clouds reflected all in shades of purple.

Philip Lawrence was unable to assuage the guilt he felt for his part in this, this mess, and thought, ‘Tait, I will always be here for you, and you can stay with me a month, or for the next fifty years – I’ll always take care of you.’ Aloud he said, “It’s going to be okay, don’t worry about anything right now – please.”

Tait turned and fully embraced Phil, as uncontrollable tears slid down his face.

After a moment Philip stood, and pulled Tait up with him. “Come on. It’s going to be too dark to find our way back, and the evening animals, including snakes will be out soon.”

They walked back arm-in-arm. As they reached the flagstone patio, motion sensors lit their way back to the house.

Once inside, Tait helped Phil tidy up from their small meal. They then gathered Tait’s medicines and made a schedule that could be stuck to the refrigerator. Close to 8:30 pm, Tait took the designated pill. Phil made some herbal tea and they settled in front of the television for a couple of hours.

Later, at the end of the latest episode of the current popular zombie show, Philip suggested to Tait that he get some rest. Nodding, Tait took a sleeping pill, changed and got into bed. Philip came in and sat next to him.

“T, if you need me, you know where my room is. Just come in, okay?”

“Okay, Phil. I will. Thank you for everything. I know I sound whiny but ….”

“It’s fine. You’ll start to feel more normal once you get used to being home.”

Unable to stop himself, Phil stroked Tait’s forehead and then kissed his friend gently in the same place. “Night, Tait.”

“Night, Phil.”

Philip closed the door to Tait’s room and leaned against it. He was tired and he worried if he could be the friend that Tait needed now. Guilt weighed on his shoulders and he carried it like Atlas carried the world. More than once he wished he could turn back time, or change history. Maybe if he’d been tougher on Tait, taken more of a stand – insisted.

Phil’s common sense intervened. ‘Stop it! You can’t do any of those things. You can’t fix this mess. All you can do help him now. Tait made choices – they weren’t your business or your fault.’

Phil walked through the house, checking the locks, turning off lights, and setting the alarms before he let himself go to bed and sleep.