Dance With Destiny

by Sloan Johnson

  Andrew reaches in his back pocket for his wallet. I take a minute to look him over. He’s been so busy taking care of Cara and me that I’m not sure that he’s even thought to look after himself. “Yeah, make sure you get Cara something. She says she’s not hungry, but she can’t not eat.”

  “And you?” I ask.

  “I’m good.” There’s no sense in fighting with him. I shove the money into my pocket and head toward the elevators. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You’ll call if there’s any news, right?”

  Andrew rolls his eyes. “No, I figured we’d wait until you get back to surprise you,” he says sarcastically. “Yes, I’ll call if anything changes in the next few minutes.”

  Five hours later, the nurse from earlier shakes me awake. My body hurts like hell from being slumped over the wooden arm of the chair, but without the aid of adrenaline, it was impossible to keep my eyes open any longer. “He’s awake and asking for you.”

  I’m out the door before she can finish her sentence. I sprint down the hallway to Tony’s room. Cara stands when I walk into the room, offering me the seat next to Tony’s bed. “He’s in and out, but he wanted you in here.”

  I lean over, tears of joy hitting Tony’s forehead as I kiss him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” I whisper in his ear. Tony’s hand squeezes my fingers, letting me know he can hear me. “I love you, Tony. I can’t lose you.”

  I fall back into the chair, thanking God for bringing him back to me. I never thought the day would come when I used the words ‘only a fractured spine’, but that’s the situation we’re facing right now.

  I sit through the night, never closing my eyes for fear I’ll miss Tony being awake. But he doesn’t wake up again. The nurses say it’s common for him to sleep most of the time because it’s his body’s way of healing. That’s fine, but I feel like I need to see those icy blue eyes, just once, so I know he’s really in there.

  Andrew and Cara return in the morning, looking much better after showering and a night of sleep at home. The doctor comes in a little after nine to look at Tony’s chart. He begrudgingly apologizes to me for his behavior, ensuring me that the nurses have informed him of Tony’s wishes that I be allowed in the room at all times. I’m not sure what Tony said to the nurses, but the doctor now believes that Tony is legally my husband. And as soon as he’s able, I plan on making that a reality because I will never go through this shit again and don’t want him to either should anything happen to me.

  Tony will be in ICU for a bit yet, and in the hospital for at least a month, but Dr. Mayhew assures us that everything’s looking better than even he expected. It’s the best news we could hope for after the state we found him in almost two days ago.

  While Tony takes another nap, Andrew and Cara excuse themselves for a bit. I can’t say that I blame them because this place is enough to drive anyone crazy. With nothing better to do and no reading material in arms’ reach, I lay my head on the edge of the mattress. Just as I drift off to sleep, I hear Tony’s gravelly voice humming. It’s not cause for alarm because he’s still highly medicated. “I will survive!” Tony belts out with great enthusiasm. My eyes snap open and I look up at my boyfriend, who currently makes stoned look sober.

  “Feeling good?” I ask, trying to hide my amusement.

  “…as long as I know—” His voice is scratchy, but it’s still the sweetest sound in the world. I lean in to kiss Tony’s forehead as he continues trying to sing.

  “What in God’s name is he doing in there?” a voice roars from the hallway, cutting off Tony’s serenade. Cara confronts the enraged man and it hits me that this is the first time I’ve seen their father since the wedding, and I wasn’t paying attention that day. Of course he’d show up as his son started belting out Gloria Gaynor as if his life depended on it.

  “Dominic is in there because he loves Tony,” she yells. Andrew’s rushes to his wife’s side. “He is in there because he is the one who saved your son’s life. He is in there because Tony threatened to kick the shit out of anyone who said he wasn’t welcome. And he is going to stay in there because he’s the man your son intends to spend the rest of his life with. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you leave.”

  When I try to stand, Tony’s hand tenses around mine, pulling my attention back to the only person who matters in my life. His eyes are closed and I hope he’s somehow succumbing to the drugs again so he’s oblivious to what’s going on in the hall.

  “I’m sorry, but you four will need to lower your voices, otherwise I’ll be forced to call security.” I glance over my shoulder to see Bev, the head nurse, poking her finger in Mr. DeLuca’s chest. “When your son was awake last night, he asked for Dominic to be allowed at all times and we are abiding by his wishes.”

  “Seeing as he’s not coherent right now, I will not accept your word on this matter. Please, by all means, get security down here. He is not family and I’m the one calling the shots now.” Tony’s mom and sister are trying to get Mr. DeLuca to calm down, but he pushes them both aside. Not in an abusive manner, but definitely making it clear that he won’t be controlled by a woman.

  “What seems to be the problem here?” a familiar voice asks. A gruff voice that I’ve been on the receiving end of more times than I can count. A voice I haven’t heard since Christmas Eve. My entire body stiffens, realizing that the situation is about to get worse. I can almost see the glee in my father’s eyes when he kicks my ass out of my fiancé’s room. My sister told me he got a new job, but never told me where. It’s just my luck that it’s here and he’s on duty now. My entire childhood, he swore he’d never have a job that kept him inside. Until the economy tanked, he had a successful landscaping company, but at this point work is work. I keep staring at him, because looks so out of place in his security uniform.

  “I want that man removed from my son’s room,” Mr. DeLuca demands. “He’s not family and therefore is not welcome.”

  “Father!” Cara shrieks. “You know damn well that Tony wants him in there with him. You’re a bitter, hateful man and I think it’s safe to speak for my brother when I say neither of us will ever forgive you for this.”

  My dad takes a step closer to Cara. He places his hand on her shoulder, looking into the room. Our eyes meet and he seems…sad. He’s not eager to do this. He’s not angry to hear that I’ve found a man that wants me in his life. A vice tightens around my body making it hard to draw a breath.

  “Ma’am, you need to calm down,” my father informs Cara. He stares her down with eyes that I know are just as deep as my own. “Is that young man your brother’s boyfriend?” he questions.

  “No, sir.” She reaches for Andrew, pulling him close to her back. He wraps his arms around her middle, resting his hands on her stomach. “He’s more than that. They were recently engaged and I know Tony wants Dom by his side. He needs Dom by his side if he’s going to get through this.”

  My father closes his eyes and wrings his hands. When he opens them, I know shit’s about to get real in a hurry. His expression is the one that I’ve only seen a few times in my life, when I fucked up beyond belief.

  “Sir, I’m inclined to believe what your daughter is saying,” he says bluntly. “I was on-duty in the emergency department when that young man ran into the building, falling apart because the man he loves was dying. I’ve seen him when I was doing my rounds, sitting in the waiting room, praying with your daughter that your son would make it through the night—”

  “That’s just dandy,” Mr. DeLuca bites out. “But none of that changes the fact that he’s not family. I would appreciate it if you would do your job and remove him so I can find out how my son is doing.”

  My dad steps so close to Mr. DeLuca that I’m sure he can feel the rage coming off Tony’s father in waves. But it’s okay because Tricolis stand up for what they believe in and don’t back down to anyone.

  “Sir, if you truly want that, I will have to abide by your wishes.” My heart drops. I don’t bl
ame my father; he’s bound by the regulations of the hospital. “But before I do anything, I want you to think about something and think hard. Are you willing to never see your child again when he finds out what you’ve done?

  “I understand more than you will ever believe what it’s like to find out your child, your son, is gay. I know what it’s like to sit up late at night and wonder where you went wrong and what you did to make him this way. But more than all of that, I know what it’s like to sit home alone on Christmas, wondering if you’ll ever see him again because you’ve said so many hateful things to him over the years, making it known that you will never wholly love him, simply because of who he is.”

  Tears stream down my face. I wonder how much of what he’s saying is for Mr. DeLuca and how much is things he can’t bring himself to say directly to me. The kid in me wants to lurch out of my chair and throw my arms around my father’s neck, thanking him for jumping to my defense, but I won’t give Mr. DeLuca the satisfaction. If he knew who he was speaking to, I’m certain he would demand a supervisor come to the floor immediately, which would likely wind up with a different outcome.

  “I can see you thinking.” My father’s tone is low and menacing. “I’d love to give you all day, but there are other matters I need to tend to, so what will it be? Am I going to kick out the man that any parent should hope their child fall in love with or are you going to act like a reasonable human being? I’m sure that’ll be a stretch for you, but someday, you’ll thank me.”

  “Where do you think you get off speaking to me this way?” Mr. DeLuca sneers.

  “I’m speaking to you this way because it’s apparent to me that I, a lowly security guard, know more about your son’s relationship than you do.” My father steps away, easing his posture. Andrew looks like he’s about ready to bust out laughing, while Cara and her mother gape at my father. Andrew looks into the room and smirks. I nod, biting my lips so I don’t start laughing. Of all the guards in all the hospitals, they wound up calling my father, who seems to have had an about face in his own bigoted thinking.

  “Nurse, please call the attending physician and have him meet me in the family waiting room,” Mr. DeLuca barks at the first person he sees. “And Caroline, if you could please ask that boy if he could take a break from his bedside vigil, I would appreciate it. I won’t have him removed, but I also have no intention of sharing my time with my son with him.”

  I let out the breath I’ve been holding, lifting Tony’s hand to my lips. “Baby, I’m going to take off for a bit, but I’ll be back. I love you,” I whisper in his ear. Tony opens his eyes, letting me know he’s fully aware of the altercation in the hall. Whether or not he’ll remember it when the drugs wear off is another story, but I’m not concerned with that right now.

  “Love you. Hurry back.” Tony gives me the best duck lips he can manage and I bend over to kiss his goofy face before leaving.

  I walk out of the room, not acknowledging the man I would love to knock out right now. My dad reaches up to squeeze my shoulder but says nothing to give away our relationship. I flash a quick smile in his direction before turning to walk down the hall. While I wait for the elevators, I tap out a quick text to Andrew, letting him know that I’m going back to the house to shower and change. I still don’t feel right about leaving, but this is what’s best for Tony.

  It’s been five days since the accident that I was sure was going to kill me. I chuckled the first time the doctors told me how lucky I am to be alive because they only saw the aftermath. I’m the one who lived through every second of it. The last thing that went through my mind before I fell unconscious was that I was going to die and put Dom through the pain no one should go through in his life. And he was going to have to do it twice.

  Dom does a double take when he walks into the room. Thanks to the help of my nurses, I’m sitting in my wheelchair beside the bed. He leans over to kiss me, keeping his hands hidden behind his back. “Whatcha got there?” I ask. If not for this fucking brace, I’d lunge toward him because I know it’s something to eat. Last night, he asked me what I wish I could have while I was bitching about the nasty shit they try to pass off as food around here.

  He hands me a raspberry malt and my face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. “The nurses said it was fine, but you have to take it slow.” I take the lid off the paper cup so I can use the spoon because I have zero patience and no interest in taking it slow. Dom can’t really expect that much from me when I haven’t had anything that tasted like more than soggy cardboard since I got here.

  Dom snatches the cup out of my hands, earning what I hope is a menacing glare. “Gimme,” I demand, reaching for the cup, trying to ignore this fucking plastic brace that keeps me from moving the way I want to.

  “Only if you take it slow,” he reminds me. “And if you’re up to it, Bev said we can take you outside today, too.”

  Music to my fucking ears. There’s almost nothing worse than being cooped up in the hospital when it’s gorgeous outside. I haven’t bitched about it because there was a period when I faced a much worse alternative, and I’ll take being caged in here over being dead any day of the fucking week.

  “Fine,” I pout. Dom pulls a chair up next to me and we sit in silence until the last drop of my malt is gone. “Now can we go outside?”

  True to his word, Dom heads out to get Bev and she gives us the okay to go outside, but only for a little while. We head to a small courtyard and sit watching the cars drive by until it’s time to go back in. There’s no conversation because we’re both pretty much talked out after a few days with nothing to do but talk and sleep when I’m not in therapy. The accident has completely changed my outlook on life. I don’t need to be the spastic one, the life of the party. Sometimes, just knowing there’s someone who loves you sitting next to you is enough.

  Dom notices the moment the pain gets to be too much. I’m trying to not take the pills any more than I have to, but something as simple as sitting takes a toll on my body right now. He pushes me inside and back to my room. Once I’m back in bed, yet another task I can’t wait to be able to do on my own, he takes his place at my side, but doesn’t sit.

  “Baby, I’m going to head out for a while. Your parents are going to be up soon and I’d prefer to not be in the room when they get here.” Dom brushes his lips against mine. I hold his hand tightly, not ready to say goodbye yet. But, this is the way life has been since the day I woke up for good. No one has filled me in on the details, but my father isn’t pleased that I want Dom with me as much as possible, so they’ve worked out a schedule for who is with me when. “I’ll be back at six. I promise.”

  He kisses me once more and brushes the hair away from my eyes. I wince when the pad of his finger catches one of the many cuts, but even the pain is welcome because it means I’m alive.

  The doctor arrives shortly after my parents, detailing the plans for my treatment. It’s only been a few days since they filled me with rods and pins and other sundry shit that guarantees I’ll never have an easy time at the airport again, but he’s pleased with my progress so far and the fact that I’m getting used to my brace. Spending the entire summer with hard plastic molded from my armpits to waist sounds like hell, but again, I’m alive so I won’t bitch about it.

  There’s so much I could whine about, but the accident has made me realize that life’s too short for wallowing. It’s also too short to live for others, which is why I plan on telling my parents to go back to the city, as that’s best for all parties. They don’t like being up here and they’re making life a living hell for me, Dom, and the entire staff of the hospital.

  “How long will I be stuck here?” I ask after Dr. Mayhew goes over my treatment plan. Dom’s already talked to the fire chief back home and told him what’s going on. I have officially battled my last blaze since there isn’t much call for paraplegic firefighters. Maybe it’s immature and petty, but that realization is one of the only ones I’ve blown up over. I fought my parents for yea
rs over my dream, defied them by actually doing it, and now it means nothing.

  “It’s going to be at least a month, probably more,” the doctor informs me. “If necessary, we can discuss a transfer to a facility closer to home, but even that won’t happen for a while.”

  “Yes, we’d like him moved to Mount Sinai as soon as possible,” my father chimes in. Funny, I’m the patient and this is the first I’ve heard about moving back to the city. Even if they offered the best spinal cord injury treatment in the world, I’d be tempted to refuse to go there because it’s where my father wants me. If I do ask to have my treatment transferred to another city, it’ll be because I have talked to my doctors and listened to their recommendations.

  “Doctor Mayhew, we’ll discuss my long-term treatment when the time comes. For now, thank you for the information. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” The doctor quickly takes the hint and excuses himself, allowing me to focus on more pressing matters. “Mom, Dad, I think it’s time for you to go home.”

  I stare out the window, not allowing myself to even look at the disgust I know is on my father’s face. Or the hurt in my mother’s eyes. I feel bad for her because I can see how hard it is for her to play the dutiful wife while wishing she could be the nurturing mother. More than once, I’ve wondered how she would have reacted to everything if not for her loyalty to my father. I’ll probably never know, but I’d like to think she’d be more caring.

  “What do you mean?” My father’s genuinely shocked to realize he’s being dismissed. “You need someone here to oversee your care and make sure your needs are being met if you have any hope of walking in the future.”

  I flinch at my father’s words, figuring this is one more disappointment the old man will add to the growing list. He hasn’t said it, but I suspect he blames me for the accident, even though Andrew admitted that the ATV I was riding needed repair.