The Sweet Tooth

by Margot Larson

  “Can I get you something to drink while you figure? Maybe you can stay for lunch? I’ve been cooking lunch for him or he won’t eat until Solomon, Mathieu’s boyfriend, gets home and makes dinner. It’s nothing fancy just salad or soup and sandwiches.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. It will be nice for him to have someone else here. I’m running out of stories to tell him.”

  Evelyn watched Anders from the dining room, “Can I help with anything?”

  “No, thank you. I have a routine going these last few days. He usually nods off around this time every day. I wake him up to eat and make sure he takes his afternoon pill, he’ll work a little bit more and then I leave for work. Solomon says when he gets home Mathieu’s usually out cold again.”

  “What do you do?” She got the scanner set up but Mathieu’s laptop was password protected so she couldn't proceed any further, “I’ll have to wait for him to wake up to do the rest.”

  Anders answered the question she had asked, “I own, manage and am head-chef at my own restaurant.”

  “Which restaurant?”

  “Anders’ Steakhouse.”

  “Oh? I’ve been there. I’m not a big steak eater but I had the best steak I ever had there.”

  “Stop. I’m blushing,” he really was.

  The two chatted about their jobs while Anders finished making salad and sandwiches for three. When he was done Mathieu was gently woken and the three settled down to eat. They tried to engage the Irishman in conversation but he only replied with one word answers, nods or shakes of his head. When they were done eating Anders washed the dishes while Mathieu scanned the sketches and emailed them to Evelyn. Anders waited for Evelyn to be done speaking to the artist before he gave Mathieu a big hug, said good-bye and promised to return the next day.

  Evelyn and Anders walked down the stairs and out together. She turned, “It was very nice meeting you. Thank you again for lunch. How soon did you say Mathieu will be taken off the medication?”

  “It was very nice meeting you too and you’re welcome. Solomon said his doctor was going to start with her next visit on Monday.”

  “I hope everything works out for him. I’d hate to have to make another visit like this one, professionally I mean.”

  “I understand. Maybe I’ll see you at the restaurant soon.”

  “Maybe,” she smiled up at him.

  ***

  When Solomon got home his lover was passed out on the sofa like he had been since he started taking the medication. The blonde was worried about the side effects his lover had been experiencing. Elise had said that the side effects wouldn’t be so bad and Solomon thought that if this wasn’t so bad he’d hate to see what bad looked like. He knelt next to the sofa to kiss his lover awake, “Hello, my love.”

  Mathieu smiled and leaned into Solomon’s touch, “Hello. Is it that time already?”

  “Yes, love. Are you hungry? Or maybe we can try going out again?”

  Mathieu shrugged but let himself be pulled up from the sofa. Halfway to the door he stopped, “Solomon?”

  “Yes, love.”

  “Can you just hold me for a while?” Mathieu had tears in his eyes. He hated how he felt or in his case, didn’t feel.

  “Of course, love, for as long as you need.”

  The two sat on the sofa and Solomon took Mathieu in his arms. Solomon reminded Mathieu of their love like he had promised; caressing the Irishman’s back and threading his fingers through the curly, brown locks, while whispering how much they love each other.

  When Mathieu was calmer Solomon turned the focus back to basics, “Are you hungry, Baby? Want to help me make something?”

  Mathieu agreed to help and Solomon was glad his boyfriend was taking an interest in something other than sleeping.

  Scallop and Spinach Salad with Bacon Vinaigrette seemed pretty easy to make so Solomon had asked Mathieu to order scallops. Like Mathieu taught him, Solomon prepared all the ingredients before they started cooking; bacon – chopped; red onion – sliced thin (Mathieu did the onion); sugar, cider vinegar, whole-grain mustard, sea scallops, salt, pepper, vegetable oil and baby spinach. The bacon was cooked and removed from the pan to drain on a paper towel-lined plate. The onion and sugar cooked in the bacon fat until softened. The vinegar and mustard completed the salad dressing which was kept warm in a covered bowl while the scallops were seasoned with salt and pepper and cooked in the cleaned out skillet. The spinach was tossed with the dressing and plated before being topped with the scallops and bacon.

  After dinner Solomon again asked Mathieu if he wanted to try and go outside, maybe for ice-cream. To Solomon’s surprise Mathieu agreed again. They made their way down the stairs with no problem but Mathieu stalled at the doorway, “It’s okay, Baby. I’m right here. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. Nobody is going to laugh or point at you. People will only look at you because you’re gorgeous and they’re wondering what you’re doing with a troll like me.”

  Mathieu smiled at Solomon’s attempt to ease him, “You’re so silly. You know you’re hot.” He opened the door and the two just stood there for a few minutes before Solomon took Mathieu’s hand and led him out the door.

  CHAPTER 17

  Not many people are on the street on the hot summer night preferring the air conditioning indoors so the trip to the ice-cream shop is uneventful but Mathieu refused to go inside; complaining about the amount of people he could see through the front window of the small shop and even though he wasn't feeling attack symptoms Mathieu wouldn’t be swayed. Solomon made Mathieu promise he wouldn’t stray from the bench outside the shop and ran in to get them their treats. It took longer than Solomon expected to buy the ice-cream; vanilla with chocolate jimmies for Mathieu and black cherry for himself; but Mathieu was still on the bench when he came out. The blonde was a little annoyed with his boyfriend especially when he saw the way the other was sitting on the bench, this was something they were supposed to do together; the first time Mathieu had been outside; they were supposed to be happy.

  Mathieu’s eyes were squeezed shut; his head was down; he was leaning forward; his elbows on his knees; his hands balled into fists and resting at his temples. He was silently praying that nobody tried to talk to him or God forbid touch him. He felt someone sit tight up against him on the bench. The Irishman; eyes still closed, turned to face the man next to him “Solomon?”

  “Of course it’s me,” Solomon snapped. “Here, take your ice-cream. What’s wrong?”

  “You know,” Mathieu said softly feeling like a chastised child as he took the cone from his lover’s hand but not really wanting it anymore.

  “I only think I know. I want you to tell me.”

  “I’m afraid that if I look around I’ll see everyone looking at me. I’ll see in their eyes that they know there’s something wrong with me and they’ll pity me,” he rested his head on the blonde’s shoulder.

  Solomon put his arm around his boyfriend, “There’s more, isn’t there? Please don’t make me pry it out of you, just tell me.” It was hot; Solomon was cranky and there was ice-cream dripping onto his hand faster than he could lick it off.

  “I don’t want to see him again but he’s your friend and if I look around he’ll be there and he’ll do something to me again. I don’t want to have any more setbacks. I want to be off these drugs.”

  “Mathieu, no friend of mine would’ve done what he did to you. I told Anders that there isn’t a choice to be made here. I love you. If Adrian has a problem with you or how much time I spend with you then he should’ve said something to me instead of taking it out on you. He knows what could’ve happened to you when he did what he did,” Solomon stood and held out his hand to the brunette.

  Mathieu hesitated but took his lover's hand as he rose from the bench and thought for a moment about what could’ve happened and he shivered, “I’m thankful Anders was there. He doesn’t have to come over every day either but he does. He’s a really good fr
iend.” They walked along in silence for a block before Mathieu remembered something, “You never mentioned the pieces he’s hung on the walls. How do they look?”

  Solomon halted his steps, “Who? What pieces? What walls? You’re walls? My walls? I didn’t notice any new pieces,” Solomon was starting to get frustrated at having to play twenty questions.

  Mathieu rolled his eyes and licked at his ice-cream as he tried to keep an avalanche of jimmies from slipping onto his hand, “No, silly, the restaurant. Anders has several framed collages of your photographs. The black and white one is especially nice. I haven’t seen them in person, just pictures Anders sent me. They look really good. When I was talking to him about the one I was doing for you I said that there was a lot of pictures left. He said to have more collages made and he’d hang them in the restaurant. I had them delivered straight to him because I thought if I saw them framed I wouldn’t want to give them up. You didn’t notice them, did you?”

  “I was too busy trying to get drunk the last time I was there and he didn’t mention them. Maybe we can go over for dinner and we can see them together. What do you think?”

  Mathieu wanted to be excited but he just couldn’t because of the medication. He had looked at the gallery photos of the steakhouse on-line and he really wanted to go, maybe surprise Anders, he just couldn’t do anything but smile even though his smile looked almost like a frown. He hoped Solomon understood, “Solomon?”

  The blonde will never get tired of hearing the way Mathieu says his name but for some reason that night Solomon had a short fuse, “What?”

  Mathieu noticed the change from Solomon’s usual response of ‘yes, love’ but asked, “Is it okay if I don’t have any more of this?” He held the cone out to Solomon.

  “Mathieu, you don’t have to ask. If you don’t want any more throw it away.” They both threw their half-eaten cones into a trash bin. Solomon though he knew exactly how to get out of his bad mood. He grabbed Mathieu around the waist and pulled the Irishman to him. He tilted his head up to kiss along Mathieu’s neck and jaw line, “Let’s go home,” he whispered in his boyfriend’s ear, “and go to bed.”

  Mathieu wanted to, he really did; he just didn’t feel it. He pulled back from his boyfriend and cupped Solomon’s face in his hands brushing his thumbs over cheekbones, “You deserve so much more than I can give you right now. This is the first time I’ve been outside in two years and it’s only because of the pills dulling my feelings. I should be happy and I can’t be. I want you too but I can’t feel the passion on the pills. I’m sorry.”

  Solomon knew he was not being rejected because Mathieu didn’t love him but it still stung. They hadn’t been intimate since the night Mathieu agreed to take the pills and he missed their physical closeness. He couldn’t hide the disappointment and frustration in his voice as he removed Mathieu’s hands from off his face, “It’s okay, Baby. I can wait.”

  The Irishman sighed, “You shouldn’t have to wait. I’m sorry I’m so messed up right now.”

  Solomon reminded himself that everything would be back to ‘normal’ over the next week or two but it was hard for him to hold his tongue, “Mathieu, stop being such a martyr all the time. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”

  “A martyr? Is that how you see me?” Mathieu knew he should be angry but he felt nothing; walking away was the only thing he could do.

  Solomon quickly caught up and stopped his boyfriend with a hand to the arm, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m hot and cranky. I don’t know why I said it. Let’s just go home. Alright?”

  Mathieu shrugged out of Solomon’s grip and drew back, “It’s not alright. I’ve told you from the start that you deserve somebody normal. You said you’d be here for me, through everything and now I find out that you think I act like a victim. This isn’t an act Solomon. This is the way I am. I don’t get days off. I’m doing the best I can. I told you I would be different while taking the pills and I am. You promised me to see me through it. If you can’t handle it let me know now so I can get over a broken heart while I can’t actually feel it.”

  Solomon watched in stunned silence as Mathieu walked away again. Now he knew what it felt like to be empty. Solomon caught up to his boyfriend just outside the house, “Mathieu. I love you. I’m sorry. I’m stupid, okay? I was hurt when you said you didn’t want to have sex with me. I miss you that way. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so touchy. Please, don’t walk away again. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m going to bed. You need to think about your expectations and the promises you made to me and decide if you still want to keep them. I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind. Good night.” Mathieu opened the front door and climbed the stairs to his flat leaving his boyfriend to stare after him.

  Just like that Solomon felt dismissed. He wondered how things got so out of control. They were going outside for the first time; they were supposed to be happy now he felt like they’re on the verge of breaking up. Yes, he was frustrated (and horny) and he shouldn’t have said what he did but he apologized; he didn’t really mean it. He had no explanation for his crankiness besides the hot weather. His shoulders slumped and he climbed the stairs to his own flat to sleep alone for the first time in months.

  ***

  Mathieu slowly woke the next morning to very unfamiliar feelings and sounds. His head and hand hurt like crazy and he was a little dizzy. There was a steady beeping that was very annoying and making his head ache even worse. He slowly looked around the hospital room; Solomon was asleep in a chair to his right and Anders in a chair at the foot of the bed. He looked down at himself; he had heart monitor pads on his chest and IV in his left hand, a bandage on his forehead and he was wearing a blue hospital gown. Emotionally he didn’t feel any different; he was still numb.

  Anders’ whispered voice brings Mathieu’s attention back, “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “What happened? Why am I in hospital?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Mathieu shook his head slowly, “The last thing I remember is saying ‘good night’ to Solomon and then climbing the stairs and going into my flat.”

  Solomon, wakened by Mathieu’s voice, sighed and ran his hands through his hair, “Your sliders were open and I was on my balcony because I couldn’t sleep. I heard a noise from your place. You didn’t answer when I was knocking and calling out for you so I let myself in. I found you on the floor in the kitchen, there was blood on the floor by your head, and you were passed out surrounded by broken glass and two empty wine bottles. I couldn’t wake you and your breathing was very shallow. I thought you were dying. What were you thinking drinking so much while on those pills? You shouldn’t have been drinking at all.” Solomon broke down and Anders knelt next to Solomon’s chair to comfort him.

  “I’m sorry, Solomon, I’m so sorry for everything,” Mathieu held out his hand but Solomon didn’t take it.

  “You have a concussion and stitches in your forehead. I hope you’re happy now. You almost killed yourself. If I hadn’t been on the balcony I wouldn’t have heard you fall. You could’ve died and the last thing we did was fight,” Solomon turned his face into Anders to hide his tears.

  “Please, Solomon. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Mathieu holds both arms out to Solomon.

  Anders took Solomon by the shoulders and guided him into Mathieu’s arms. Solomon collapsed onto the hospital bed on top of his boyfriend and cried, “I could’ve lost you. Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

  “I won’t, I won’t. I promise. I’m so sorry.” Mathieu rested his left hand on his boyfriend’s back and threaded the fingers on his right hand through the blonde’s hair.

  Mathieu spent two days in the hospital because of his concussion and the doctors concern about his drinking while on medication. When Solomon and Anders arrived to take the artist home Elise was in the room talking to the patient. Solomon introduced Anders to the doctor and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Mathieu asked El
ise and Anders to excuse him so he could talk to Solomon. The two left the room and Solomon settled down on the bed next to his lover, “Elise had to come because they wanted to do a psychiatric evaluation on me because of the drugs and drinking. She had to sign some papers confirming that I was under her care and that what I did wasn’t intentional to the best of her knowledge.”

  Solomon and Mathieu had had a long talk about what had happened that night and had forgiven each other though it was still a touchy subject and was likely to be brought up again.

  “Elise is going to let me come off the meds. She’s really upset about what I did. She wants to set up a session with the both of us. Will you agree to come?”

  “Of course I will. Did she say why she wants us to have a session together?”

  “She said that it’s not unusual for couples to have some sessions together. She said that you may want to have some on your own too.”

  “That I’ll have to think about.” Solomon thought he had been doing a good job dealing with Mathieu’s disorder, until the other night anyway.

  Solomon called Elise back into the room and told her he had agreed to participate in some sessions with Mathieu but that he had to think about having sessions on his own. She said she understood and they made arrangements to meet at her office the following Wednesday evening if Mathieu was able to make it out. If he couldn’t make it out she would see them at the apartment. After she left Anders reentered the room, “I like her. She’s funny.”

  Mathieu and Solomon looked at each other; eyebrows raised, “Funny?”

  “Yeah, funny and nice,” Anders’ face reddened just a little but it was still seen by the couple on the bed.

  Mathieu smiled, “Are you crushing on my doctor? My boss will be jealous.”

  Solomon was clearly missing something, “Why would your boss be jealous?”

  “I met Evelyn, Mathieu’s boss, one day last week when she stopped by to check on the status of some sketches Mathieu was working on. We chatted and she stayed for lunch.” Anders explained. Mathieu sent a grateful glance to the tall Englishman when he didn’t mention the missed deadline.