by Lissa Kasey
He knew all about cognitive behavior therapy and dialectical behavior therapy. Enough that he could teach classes on both. Often in groups when the topics got brought up, he could point out skills others could use in their situations. The therapists always praised Nate’s knowledge of the skills, then told him he must not be using them.
He’d used them all. All day, every day for months. Meditated until he should have had Buddha coming out of his ears. Identified emotions. Tried to change emotions. Tried to tie them to some event, a traumatic childhood or some other bullshit. Only they weren’t. He feared fear. The fear made him depressed. And sometimes he was depressed just to be breathing. Time had given rise to life circumstances that would make anyone depressed and anxious, like his pending job loss and possible foreclosure. But those things had been two years in the making. All of this had begun with a migraine. He’d take the migraines back just to have his brain clear again. Now that he was finally off lithium and gabapentin he could sort of remember where things had started to really go wrong. It had started with the meds and the change in location of his job. Maybe Jamie had been right all along and the office job had made him sick.
He'd been out on sick leave for months. Time which was quickly running out. His migraines had vanished under the hail of emotional issues. Now he was just plain crazy. On the rare occasion he did sleep, he dreamt about all the mistakes he’d made to get where he was. The bad choices of trusting doctors who never listened to him, to pushing himself to the edge over and over, and trying to save himself in a thousand self-destructive ways.
He put a pillow over his head and tried not to think about it.
Nate dozed lightly, tossing and turning, just on the edge of consciousness, waiting for the dinner call. But it was an orderly who roused him.
“You have a visitor,” the man in dark blue scrubs told him.
Nate frowned at him. Who would visit him? Hell, he couldn’t get anyone to pick up the phone when he called from the hospital. Not his estranged family or even his neighbors. And the hospital phone system was always too complicated to call long distance. If Jamie even knew he was there. Nate hadn’t spoken to him in months.
They were wrong, Nate thought. Misery does not love company. He didn’t want to show Jamie how bad he was. He didn’t want the man to walk away. So he’d cut ties himself. A semblance of control that was all a lie. Nate didn’t have many friends. None other than Jamie outside of work. Work friends were just that. Friends at work. They didn’t want his trouble. All had long since stopped calling to check on him. His pain was too much for them. It was too much for Nate most days too.
“Who?” A neighbor maybe? Nate hoped they hadn’t brought the cats to the humane society or something.
“Jameson McKendal.”
Nate blinked at the orderly. “You must be mistaken.”
“We have his ID. If you don’t want to see him, we can send him away.”
“No. No. Don’t send him away. I…” Nate’s heart skipped a beat. What could Jamie be doing here all the way from Washington? Nate ran his hands through his hair and tried to remember if he’d showered today and brushed his teeth. Yes. Of course. Because the orderlies tracked those things, and Nate always tried to be a good patient. “Where?”
“I’ll escort him down to the meeting room at the end of the hall.” The orderly left and Nate stood frozen beside the bed. Did he really want Jamie to see him this way? Was he going to turn Jamie away after he’d traveled so far to see him? No. That was beyond rude.
The maroon shade of his scrubs wasn’t his color. He’d packed for this trip, but had been too out of his own head to care enough to wear any of the things he brought. Did he have time to change?
Nate stood there a minute longer, debating. Confusion and indecision ruled his life. He didn’t trust anyone, especially not himself anymore. What if he made the wrong decision? Was there a right decision?
He sighed and headed toward the meeting room. What the hell. Everything else had given up the ghost. This was probably the end of his friendship with Jamie too. Might as well give him one more straw to suffocate him. Another reason to end everything. All he had left was his cats. The only tie that kept him here. Those cranky old brats who still cuddled and purred like he was the most important person in the world. Tears filled his eyes at the thought of them being put down just for being old and alone after he was gone. He wouldn’t do that to them. The pain crushed him every day, but he refused to end it just because they needed him. Jamie loved animals, maybe Nate could convince him to take the cats home with him. Then Nate would be free to put an end to his own suffering.
And then there he was. Jamie. Big as always. But kind. He looked like a teddy bear, dressed in flannel and jeans. Tall, stocky, a little heavier through the middle, but not enough to hang over his belt. He looked good. Nate’s heart gave a little jolt, a glimpse of feelings long buried. He still loved Jamie, even as broken as he was now. Nate sighed. Was this real? Was Jamie really here?
“Jamie?” Nate began, not really sure what to say.
But suddenly Jamie’s arms were around him, hugging him tight.
The orderlies jumped to action. Touching wasn’t allowed. Nate couldn’t remember why.
“It’s okay,” he said. Nate returned Jamie’s hug, then pulled away to stare up into Jamie’s face. He was crying. “Oh! Jamie, what’s wrong?” Nate’s protective instincts took over right that second. An urge to wreck anyone who’d upset Jamie ignited in his gut. “Don’t cry. Everything’s okay.” Nate would make it okay if he could. “What are you doing here?”
“I called. You didn’t answer. So I tried the neighbors. They told me where you are. And here I am.” He reached out as though to touch Nate’s hair, but stopped before his fingers could make contact. The orderlies lingered close, watching.
Nate waved a hand at the little meeting room. “Should we go sit down?”
“Sure,” Jamie said heading into the room and taking a seat. Nate followed, leaving the door open. If he closed it, the nurses would just open it again anyway.
Nate sat down opposite of Jamie. “You look good,” Nate told him. He always looked good. Even scruffy and hungover after a comic con bender.
“You look thin. Are you eating?”
“Three meals a day here. Full of carbs. It’s horrific. I’m sure I’ll be fat by the end of the week.”
A smile curved the corner of Jamie’s lips. “Smart-ass. Glad to see that isn’t completely lost.”
Nate’s joy faded a little. Yeah, most of who he had been vanished long ago.
“Stuck my foot in my mouth, I see,” Jamie said after a moment of awkward silence.
Nate really didn’t know what to say. “Why are you here?”
“For you. I thought that’d be obvious.”
But Nate hadn’t done anything to maintain their friendship. He had given Jamie an out. A chance to escape before being saddled with a crazy person as a friend. “I can’t give you anything,” Nate said.
“Why would you need to? I never asked for anything.”
“I’m not who you remember me to be.”
Jamie shrugged. “Right now, sure. But it won’t always be that way.”
“You don’t know that,” Nate protested. Tears burned in his eyes, threatening to fall. Almost two years he had suffered. Lost, confused, broken.
“Neither do you,” Jamie pointed out.
They fell into another awkward silence. Mostly because Nate was too lost in the voices replaying in his head of worthlessness and hopelessness to respond.
“I love you,” Jamie said after a moment. “We’re friends. Best friends for life.”
“Even if I’m crazy?”
“You’re not crazy.”
Nate sighed. He was crazy. Hadn’t everyone told him so? Numerous doctors, nurses, therapists, and coworkers. He had to admit Jamie’s affection warmed his gut a little, though Nate was too tired to believe it.
“I want you to come home with me,”
Jamie said after a while.
“Huh?”
“My home in Washington.”
Nate sat in confusion, trying to make sense of the words. To Jamie’s home? It was so far away. And what about Nate’s stuff and the cats? Then there was the whole psych ward thing. They wouldn’t just let Nate walk out of the ward. Not without a doctor’s clearance. His stays were usually a week long at least, while they fiddled with the meds again and again. Though that short amount of time wasn’t enough to make any changes for the good or bad.
“Leave all this behind. Pack up your stuff and your cranky critters, and come to the island with me. Start over. No strings. Just the support of a friend as you get back on your feet.”
What an impossible dream. Nate wasn’t well enough to make a decision like that. What if he was wrong? He blinked at Jamie, not sure what to say.
“You said you’d tell me when you’re ready. I think you were ready a long time ago. You’re just too afraid to make the move. Held here by the expectations of others. Expectations the world forced on you.”
That was true enough.
“I’m safe here,” Nate said instead.
“Are you?” Jamie asked. He looked around. “How many meds have you tried? How many times have you been back here? What have they done to make you safe other than locking you in a prison?”
Nate tried to think of something to say. “They keep me safe from myself.”
“I’ll take on that role.”
Nate shook his head. It was too much to ask of any friend. “No.”
“Nate, you’re not going to hurt yourself. Especially not since you have those wonderful, cranky old cats to care for, and soon you’ll have me in your business, keeping you busy. Helping you heal. You won’t have time to think about how off your brain is.” Jamie held out his hand, palm up. “Come home with me.”
“What about the house and the car and…”
“Let me worry about all that. You just focus on you and the cats,” Jamie said.
“But I’m stuck in here.”
“Not for long. Let’s see if we can get one of your doctors to chat. Okay?”
Nate found himself nodding. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was agreeing too, but he took Jamie’s hand, sliding their palms together and interlacing fingers. Jamie’s hand was warm, solid, real. He wished, not for the first time that Jamie were more than a friend. But he was here now. That was a start wasn’t it?
Chapter 2
Planning for a big move might have daunted Nate if Jamie hadn’t taken over to help him pack and ride with him for the long drive. Getting free of the hospital had been easy. Nate had given Jamie authorization to talk to his doctors and get copies of all his records. He’d spent one more night in the ward, but had gone home early the next morning with enough of his medication to last three months. Nate worried what would happen when the three months were up.
“Who’s taking care of your animals?” Nate demanded to know. Jamie had two acres of land and almost a dozen critters who called it home, from a rescued miniature goat to a couple of old cats, a pony, and a bunch of rescue dogs.
“Graham is checking in on them.” Jamie threw all Nate’s books in a box. “Why do you have all these still? I thought everything was on your reader now.”
“There’s something about paper…” Nate said caressing one of his many hardcovers. It was all sci-fi and fantasy. Some were even signed. Most of them, if they had ebook versions, he had those too. And his collection was much smaller than it used to be. “I got rid of seventeen boxes when I moved here.” As a kid he’d dreamed of writing the next great sci-fi novel. Or even the script for a video game. He had hundreds of stories started and saved on his computer. Nothing ever got finished. That was the hardest part after all, finishing.
“And that was how long ago?” Jamie asked, wiping a thick layer of dust off one.
“Almost six years ago.” Hard to believe he’d been in the townhome that long. It was the first place he’d had in his life that had been his and felt safe. “I feel safe here,” he said quietly. “I’m worried that I won’t…”
“You will,” Jamie said. “I’ve got a lot of land. No one comes out that way. I’m never far away, even if I’m working. There’s also Graham and Charlie close by if you need some company that’s not mine. You’ll just want to keep your shoes away from Harry, but otherwise, you’ll be fine.”
“Harry the goat,” Nate grumbled with a half laugh.
“He’s very hairy.”
“Does he make those creepy screaming goat noises like on YouTube?”
“Nah. It’s more of a titter. Sometimes like a sheep. He loves shoes. Canvas for some reason. No idea why. And that sucker can climb. I find him on the roof all the time.”
“You have a two-story house.”
“Yep.”
Nat couldn’t imagine what having a goat on the roof would be like. “The drive will be hard with the cats.”
“I have stops mapped out,” Jamie said. Because of course he did. He was sort of the ultimate Boy Scout. Lists, guidelines, organization, those were Jamie’s happy place. “Places that allow pets. Twenty-some hours is a long drive for us too. No way are we doing it in one haul. I’m not crazy.”
But he was a little. He’d flown all the way to Minnesota on a moment’s notice to help a man he barely knew quit his job and move in with him.
Jamie glanced up. “Stop. Whatever is in your head, stop. I swear there is more shit in your head than anyone I know. No wonder you get fucking migraines. You never give it a minute to power down.”
“I’m sorry,” Nate said automatically. “I was just thinking we barely know each other.”
“That’s bullshit. I’ve known you for over a decade.”
“Online.”
Jamie shook his head like it was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. “’Cause you wouldn’t have flown out to see me in a heartbeat if I needed you?”
“You know I would,” Nate defended.
“Why is it different when I do?”
“Because you’re normal.” Not broken.
“Normal. What even is that?” Jamie shook his head.
Nate went back to packing, biting his lip and trying not to cry. Stupid how much he felt like crying lately. Tears burned from his eyes anyway and he kept himself turned away from Jamie. How many times in his life had he heard someone tell him to be strong when they heard about his ongoing depression, anxiety or health issues? Most of the time medication helped. Only when something in his life spiraled out of control did he find himself floundering in the worst of the darkness.
Leo made his way into Nate’s lap, purring and curling up, even though Nate was still moving to pack everything up. He bent over the ancient cat, pressing his face into Leo’s gray-striped fur, letting the tears fall. Jamie didn’t care. He’d seen it enough, heard it many times. Nate just wished there were fewer reasons for him to cry. His fear of change was huge. Nate hoped he could survive it.
Jamie cleaned off a bookshelf and carried it out to the garage. He had found an inexpensive storage unit for Nate to store his furniture. A truck would arrive in the morning that movers would load and then would be delivered to the unit. Nate glanced at his bed. He didn’t have another even though he had a spare bedroom. Maybe he should take the couch and let Jamie have the bed. Jamie was bigger and he could stretch out.
“Hey, what’s in your head?” Jamie asked.
“Sleeping arrangements.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s not a big deal.”
“You should take the bed.” It was the polite thing to do.
“It’s your bed, man. The last time you’ll be sleeping in it for a while.”
“Shit,” Nate cursed. He loved his bed. Even though he never slept well, it was still a comfort to be lying in bed, wrapped in his blankets, his cats snuggled around him. It was the only stress reliever that seemed to work.
“I have a spare bed,” Jamie said. “It’s comfortable. We’ll
pack your blankets and it might take a little time for the cats to get used to it, but I’m sure they’ll be cuddled around you in no time.” Jamie grinned at Leo in Nate’s lap. “I’m still waiting to meet AJ.”
Apple Jack “AJ” was Nate’s middle cat who was at that moment hiding under the bed as she hated strangers. In fact, the only person she ever let near her was Nate. She was also a huge cat, round like a bowling ball, but as she didn’t seem to be overeating, it appeared to be more genetic. She was his most demanding cat, needing constant care as she was so chubby that she couldn’t clean her own behind, lots of brushing of her thick coat, and snuggles to keep her from chewing her stomach bloody from stress.
“She’ll come out when the activity stops. She probably won’t go near you. You’re more likely to get Leo or Riley to come for a scratch. Leo might even sit in your lap.” Riley, Nate’s black cat, sat perched on top of an empty wardrobe surveying the room like the god he was. He was solid black except for a white medallion on his chest. He was not a lap cat, though he often liked to lie close to wherever Nate was. “I need to find the brush. Riley has knots again.” Perpetual knots. Nate suspected the majestic cat had arthritis already, which was why he always had knots on his back.
“We’ll give them all proper care tonight. I brought along the Thundershirts I’ve used for mine when they are stressed. Made sure they are clean. We’ll just have to see who needs them the most as I only have two.” Jamie picked up a box of books and disappeared downstairs with it. The shelves were empty, Nate’s room almost bare. He had a collection of action figures that he’d debated on bringing or not. Since they had a U-Haul trailer rented and attached to his car, they had the space, so Jamie had already insisted on packing them. The kitchen things would be put in storage. The property management company would have cleaners come through before it was rented out.
The idea of someone else living in his house made Nate nervous. What if they broke something? What if they tore up the place? Again with the what-ifs. He tried to reason through it. The management company he’d chosen was very reputable. They had pages of guarantees and paperwork he’d signed indicating they would protect the value of his property. He also wouldn’t be responsible for late-night calls with leaking pipes or broken appliances. He might have to replace something if it broke, but the maintenance call went to the management company.
