Mind Over Matter - 7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I came to slowly, feeling a vague sense of déjà vu. The curtains were drawn around my bed again, muting the sunlight from the window. Turning my head a bit, I managed to catch a glimpse of someone sitting in a chair beside my bed. I didn’t say anything at first, just blinked to get my eyes to focus properly.

He was a doctor, I guess. At least, he was wearing one of those white lab coats doctors wear. I couldn’t make out the name stitched on it, though, because he had his arms folded tightly across his chest which wrinkled up the fabric. His head was down and his eyes were closed, so I figured he must be napping. He sure looked tired. His dark brown hair had fallen over his forehead, curling slightly at about eyebrow level, but the rest of it was sticking up in every direction like he’d been running his hands through it. It was kind of cute, in a way.

Whoa. Enough of that. That’s the sort of thing that got me kicked out in the first place.

I did a quick inventory. The IV was back – with an extra bag – as was the finger clip. My side had new bandages on it. The only difference from last time (thankfully) was the absence of the catheter. I could live with that.

I heard a faint stirring on my other side and looked over – into a pair of beautiful gray eyes. It took a couple of seconds before I remembered to breathe.

“Hello, there.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I nodded instead.

He leaned forward in his chair and laced his fingers together. “I’m Doctor Farris,” he went on. “Nice to see you awake.”

“Th-thanks.” I licked my lips. My mouth was really dry. “Joe.”

Doctor Farris stared at me for a second. “I know,” he said, then smiled. God, he had a gorgeous smile! I could feel blood rushing to my ears, so I knew I was blushing. “Want to tell me what happened?” he added.

I tore my eyes away from his face. “I… I needed a shower,” I muttered. I didn’t want to have to tell him anything. I knew he’d leave as soon as I did. It was stupid, I knew, but I wanted him to stay beside me for a while. I’d only just met him, but somehow I felt safe with him around.

Doctor Farris nodded slowly. “I see,” he said. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his left ankle over his right knee. “Your friends are very worried about you.”

I looked at him. “Who?” I asked. I hadn’t heard about Mr. D by the time I went for my shower.

“Cindy Masters and George Dawson.”

He was alright! I closed my eyes in relief.

“Joe?” Doctor Farris’ voice had an odd tone to it. “You okay?”

I nodded and looked at him. “I was worried.”

“About?”

“Mr. D. I thought he might… not have handled it too well.”

He smiled again. Damn, I wished he’d stop doing that! “You thought George might have had a stroke or something?” he asked. When I nodded again, he said, “He’s a lot tougher than he looks.”

“That’s…” I’d been about to say something smart-assed, but changed my mind. Mr. D was a good guy. “…Good to know.”

He sat up. “Joe,” he began. “We need to discuss what happened.”

I blinked. “What happened?” I echoed stupidly. God, why did this man make my insides melt?

“Not the shooting,” he corrected. “I meant the shower. Why did you need one?” I must have given him an odd look, because he added, “It was really late, you weren’t very strong – the last thing you should have wanted to do was get out of bed, Joe.”

“I felt… dirty,” I muttered.

He was quiet so long, I started getting worried. At last he said, “Have you ever been…”

I looked at him. “What?”

“Molested,” he answered quietly. “Or raped.”

I almost laughed. “No,” I said. “Never.”

Doctor Farris seemed to relax a bit. “It’s just… I’ve known people to do that when they’ve been… assaulted. I thought that might be the case here.” He leaned forward again. “What did happen?” he asked softly. “Can you tell me?”

I wanted to tell him everything. The thought scared the hell out of me. Instead, I shook my head. “I wanted a shower,” I whispered back.

He sighed and pushed himself out of his chair. “Alright,” he said. “I won’t push. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Inside, my brain was screaming No! Stay with me! but I just nodded. “Later,” I agreed.

Doctor Farris nodded once, shoved his hands in his pockets and left.

***

I was in the hospital for four days in all. Cindy and Mr. D came to visit once or twice, but I think they caught on to the fact that I wasn’t really in the mood for socializing. Doctor Farris appeared every day but, although we did talk, I purposely stayed away from the conversation he wanted us to have.

Cindy came to take me home on the day I was released. She got time off from work and drove my car over to get me. I was torn between wanting to go home and lie down, and wanting some real food to eat. In the end, I opted for the food. When we got to the diner she dropped me off at the front door and went to park the car, then hurried into the kitchen to put in an order for me and grab her apron.

She came back a few minutes later with toast and coffee. I was grateful for that. Although I hadn’t liked the hospital food (who does?), I didn’t think I could eat much. Sometimes Cindy’s perceptivity surprised the hell out of me. When I’d managed to eat it all, I slowly got up from the table, tossed down my money and headed to the counter where Cindy was working.

“All done?” she asked. I nodded. “Did you want anything else?”

“No thanks,” I said. “I’m not really very hungry.”

She nodded. “I suppose you’re more tired than anything.” It wasn’t a question. She dug in her pocket for a moment and then handed me my keys. “Your car’s out back if you want to head home, otherwise I’ll be off in about an hour if you want me to drive you.”

“Thanks,” I said, heading for the short hallway that led to the washrooms. I knew there was an employee exit back there. “I think I’ll be alright.”

Back at my apartment, I’d barely locked the door behind me when the phone rang. It was Cindy, making sure I was alright. When I’d convinced her that I’d arrived unharmed, she told me to get some sleep and she’d be by after dinnertime to see if I needed anything. Since she had a key to my place, I took the phone off the hook and went to bed.

***

I was awakened a few hours later by a knocking at the door. My head was still a little fuzzy as I stumbled out of my bedroom, otherwise I would’ve wondered how the person knocking got all the way up to my apartment without me buzzing them in. I leaned against the wall, one hand on the doorknob, and called out “Who is it?”

“Doctor Farris.”

I frowned. I hadn’t given him my address and he hadn’t mentioned a home visit. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have my brain picked – especially since I’d just woken up – but I didn’t want to be rude. I slipped off the chain, undid the deadbolt and opened the door.

Even half-asleep, I was struck by how incredibly hot he looked. He was wearing a camel-colored windbreaker, a pale blue polo shirt open at the neck and black slacks. His hands were jammed in his pockets and he looked embarrassed. I think. “What… what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he replied. “May I come in?”

I stepped back and he walked past me. He smelled good – like something earthy – and I bit back a groan as I relocked the door. Just my luck, he’d be as straight as a plumb line. “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.

“Sure,” he replied. “What have you got?”

I walked to the fridge and opened it. “Juice, beer, wine…” I let the door swing shut. “I also have tea and coffee, if you want.”

He leaned against the countertop. “Wine would be good,” he replied. “I’m not on call or anything.” He stayed there, propped up on one elbow, and watched me get down a couple of glasses and pour the wine. “Should I ask how you managed to get your hands on that stuff?” he asked.

I didn’t answer him. Cindy had bought it for me as a housewarming present, but he didn’t need to know that – and I didn’t want to get her in trouble. As I handed him his glass, I said, “It’s too cold. Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” He sipped thoughtfully and then said, “So…”

I put the wine back in the fridge and took out the juice. I couldn’t have alcohol with my pain killers. “So?”

He didn’t speak right away, just watched as I poured out my drink and put the juice back. I took my glass and headed into the living room. He moved to the armchair and dropped into it while I carefully lowered myself onto the couch. I sipped my juice and then set the glass on the coffee table. I didn’t really want it after all. The wine would’ve hit the spot, though.

“Doctor Farris…”

“Adam.”

I looked at him. He was watching me with those smoky gray eyes and I suddenly had the urge to kiss him. The thought brought a jab of fear in the pit of my stomach and I looked away quickly. “Adam,” I agreed. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you, but… what are you doing here?”

He sighed and set his glass on the coffee table. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” he said. “And to have that talk.”

I looked at him again and my stomach clenched. “No offense, but I don’t really have anything to talk to you about.”

He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach. His nice, flat stomach…Suddenly I felt as though I was going to be sick and I pushed myself off the couch and ran for the bathroom.

Several minutes later I heard a soft tapping on the door. I rinsed my mouth out with water, flushed the toilet and opened it to find Adam leaning against the doorjamb, a concerned look on his face. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Sorry,” I said.

“Come on.” He reached out, took my hand and pulled me into the living room. I curled up at one end of the couch, shivering, while Adam went into my bedroom. He came back a minute later with my blanket. “Here,” he said, wrapping it around me and tucking it in. “Better?”

I stared at him for a minute. He was so close and smelled so good… My stomach gave a threatening lurch and I closed my eyes and nodded.

“Joey,” he said softly. “You’ve got to talk about this. It must be pretty bad if the idea is making you sick.”

No one had called me ‘Joey’ since I was a little kid. Somehow – although I loved the sound of it – hearing him talk so gently made me feel worse. I shivered harder and hunkered down in my blanket. “Sorry,” I mumbled, gritting my teeth. The last thing I wanted to do was throw up in front of him.

Thankfully, Adam sat up and slid backwards away from me, resting against the opposite arm of the couch. “Let me tell you a little bit about myself, then,” he said. “Maybe a change of subject will make you feel better.” I relaxed a bit. He must have seen it, because he went on talking. “Okay, let’s see… My name is Adam Farris, I’m twenty-four years old, I was born here but raised in New York.” I opened my eyes slightly so I could watch him talk. It turned out to be a bad idea because as soon as I did, I focused on his mouth and my stomach flipped. I closed my eyes in a hurry and just listened. “I got shipped back here to live with my grandfather when I was sixteen. He and my uncle paid for me to go to medical school – which I’m not quite finished – and they both asked me to talk to you. They’re worried about you, naturally.”

Involuntarily, I opened my eyes. “Your grandfather and uncle?” What the hell?

Adam nodded. “I don’t suppose George told you,” he answered. “George is my uncle – well, great-uncle, actually – and Mr. Winters is my grandfather.”

“Mr. Winters… as in, my old principal?” Now my head felt like my stomach. When he nodded I asked “And Mr. D?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “My mother is Mr. Winters’ daughter. You didn’t know?” I shook my head. “Well… yeah. That’s what they are.”

I thought back to the day Mr. D told me to go to the school and see Mr. Winters. I remembered how he said that Mr. D wanted me to tell him that I was gay. I wondered then what their relationship was. Now I knew. “Why did you leave New York?” I don’t know where the question came from, but I knew it was important that I find out the answer.

“My father threw me out.” I waited. “I told him I was gay. My mother was a little upset, of course, but my old man lost it. She’s the one who phoned Gramps and… Joey, are you alright?”

I was having trouble breathing. I thought I was losing my mind. Here the most gorgeous guy in the world was telling me he was gay, and I was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. It must have shown on my face, because Adam jumped off the couch and crouched down in front of me. “Breathe, Joey,” he whispered, helping me to sit up. “Deep breaths. Come on.”

I struggled for a minute to draw air. By the time I actually managed it, my vision had started going blurry. “Sorry,” I said as soon as I could.

“Don’t apologize,” Adam answered. He was rubbing my upper arms with both hands. It felt really nice. “Don’t apologize, Joe – just talk to me.”

I was a little saddened by his going back to calling me ‘Joe’, but it wasn’t as though I could complain about it. I barely knew the man. I did know more about him than he did me, though. I think. “What…” I started, licking my lips. “What did Mr. D tell you about me?”

“Not much. You work for him, live over the store and got hurt when some guy robbed it.” I nodded. “There’s got to be more to you than that,” he added. “George doesn’t take to people like he did you.”

“I’ve heard that before,” I replied. “My friend Cindy said the same thing the day I got the job. Maybe he feels sorry for me, or something.”

“I doubt it. George is a real hard ass. He doesn’t feel sorry for people.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, then.”

Adam put his hands on my knees. “Maybe,” he said slowly. “You remind him of me.”

I looked up. He was staring straight at me. If I leaned down a bit, I could almost… I pushed the thought away at a sharp jab in my gut. “Maybe,” I answered. “I don’t know.”

He got a thoughtful look on his face. “Joey,” he began. My heart sang. My gut hurt. I was messed up, bad. “What happens when I do this?” He slid his hands up my thighs, over my stomach and up to my shoulders. I shivered.

“I… uh…” I think my brain was short-circuiting. I forced myself to say “It feels really good, but… not good, too.”

“Not good as in ‘not interested’?” Adam asked. “Or as in ‘wrong’?”

“As in ‘sick, twisted, depraved’…” He started to take his hands away. “Don’t.”

Adam frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t… don’t stop.” God, talk about screwed up. I felt like my head was going to explode. “Just…”

He got up from the floor and sat next to me. “So you’re interested, then?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I felt like I was being strangled. What the hell was wrong with me? “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I can tell you what I think is happening,” Adam said. “Your feelings are so repressed the mere thought of anything homosexual in nature is making you physically ill.”

I tried a smile. “They teach you that in medical school?”

He smiled back. “Some of it, yes,” he agreed. He watched me struggle for a minute and then got up, pulling me with him. “Come on,” he said. “You need a shower.”