the Dance

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the Dance Page 43

by Alison G. Bailey


  Nancy was a true artist. Each bite of roast melted in my mouth. Pairing it with the Barbarsco made me want to cry tears of joy.

  Hart lifted his glass, letting it hover in front of his mouth. “Did you see Will today?”

  I stopped eating but kept my gaze down, not wanting him to see the guilt in my eyes. “No. Work was crazy and I needed to go home and get ready to come here. I texted him and he said he was feeling better. He might get to come home next week.”

  A funny feeling spread across my chest. Other than having a baby, there was no good time to be in the hospital. But there was something especially lonely about being in one during the holidays. People should be with those they love, not cooped up staring at sterile white walls.

  A spurt of air hit my face snapping me out of my head. Hart finished blowing out the other candle.

  “What are you doing?”

  With his plate on his lap, he rolled away from the table. “Packing up the food.”

  My stomach twisted. The last thing I wanted to do was to ruin this night for us. We deserved time together.

  I pushed away from the table and followed him into the kitchen. “Why? We’re not done eating.”

  “We’ll finish at the hospital.” He tilted his chin toward the cabinet. “Paper plates are in there.”

  “Hart . . .”

  He stopped what he was doing. “Bryson, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve.”

  I leaned over, took his face between my hands, and kissed him hard. His hands came up and buried deep in my hair.

  “You’re a good, good man, Hart Mitchell,” I whispered against his lips.

  “Was there ever any doubt?” He grinned.

  “Not in my heart and soul.”

  Hart and I packed up the food and corked the wine, putting all of it in the rolling cooler along with paper plates, napkins, and silverware. I lifted the caramel cake, which was also from Nancy, and placed it in one of my grocery totes I’d left here. As I pulled on my coat, a thought occurred to me that could derail our spreading of joy and good food.

  “What if the night nurse won’t let us bring the cooler in? They can be pretty strict.”

  As Hart tugged his black knit cap down over his blond hair I chuckled to myself. In all black he looked like a sexy spy or a burglar.

  “We’ll be fine. The ladies know me.” He winked.

  “I bet they do. But as charming and sexy as you are, I don’t think it will work in this situation. The night nurse on duty this week has been a guy.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Chad.”

  Flashing me a lopsided grin, Hart said, “We’ll be fine.”

  Since it was the holidays the hospital was quieter than normal with only a skeleton staff. Once the nurse’s station was in sight Hart told me to hold back with the cooler while he took the tote. I found the perfect spot by the fake Christmas tree in the corner, allowing me to be close enough to hear the conversation without being noticed. Sweet as you please, Hart rolled right up to the desk with tote in lap.

  “Merry Christmas, buddy.” Hart smiled.

  Dark-haired, portly Nurse Chad’s seafoam green eyes lit up like twinkling stars.

  Chad shifted his gaze from side to side, making sure no one was within earshot. “Well, look who the cat dragged in, Hottie McGee.”

  “How’s it going, Chad?”

  “Much better now,” he said flirtatiously.

  The Hart effect was in full swing.

  “I’m here to see my friend Will Forsyth. Wanted to bring him some holiday cheer.”

  It might have been my imagination but it sounded like Hart choked a little on Will’s name. The fact that Hart was doing this made me love him even more, which I didn’t think was possible.

  Craning his neck, Chad peered over the desk. “Whatcha packing?”

  “A few snacks.”

  Fiddling with the top button of his shirt, Chad said, “Hmm . . . now Hart, you know the hospital frowns upon outside food or drink being brought in. Especially on this floor. There are some very sick people up here.”

  Hart lifted the cake out of the bag and placed it on the desk right under Chad’s nose. “I’d sure like to share some of the holiday with you too, Chad.”

  Chad’s cheeks glowed redder than Rudolph’s nose. His gaze swung between the cake and Hart. Honestly, I couldn’t tell which he wanted more.

  “It is the holidays. And since the patient is doing better, I see no harm.”

  Hart reached for the cake. “You’re the best, dude.”

  Gripping the other side of the cake plate, Chad said, “You can leave this here.”

  “No problem.”

  Hart tossed Chad a lazy grin as he rolled back away from the desk. Tilting his head to the side, he gave me the signal to join him. As I scooted past the nurse’s station, a glaring pair of seafoam green eyes followed me.

  “Hart, don’t forget to come see me later for a little something sweet.” Chad scrunched up his face in my direction.

  Free and clear, Hart and I headed down the hall toward Will’s room.

  “That guy’s a piece of work. He actually gave me the stink eye.”

  “You’re adorable when you’re jealous, Bryson. You have nothing to worry about. Chad’s too much man for me.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Once standing outside Will’s room, I looked over at Hart. “You sure you want to do this? You don’t have to.”

  “Yes I do. It’s important to you so it’s important to me. The fact that I think he’s a fucking bastard is beside the point.”

  I kissed his lips before giving the door a light knock.

  Will’s muffled cough filtered through the cracked door. “Come in.”

  Poking my head in, I smiled and said, “Merry Christmas.”

  At first I couldn’t tell if Will was shocked or confused. My guess was a little of both.

  Will’s voice had gotten a little stronger but was very hoarse and scratchy. “H-ey. What are you doing here?”

  I pushed open the door revealing my cohort. “We’re here to celebrate Christmas with you.”

  Will’s gaze shifted to Hart, causing his expression to go slack.

  “Merry Christmas, motherfucker,” Hart said sarcastically.

  The tension in the air was stifling as the two men locked in a staring contest. Time stood still and I stayed put, waiting to see if Hart and I were even staying. After a few moments, the edges of Will’s mouth twitched until a full-blown laugh erupted. Blowing out a deep breath, my body felt weightless. It had been such a long time since I shared anything positive with Will.

  With the tension lifted, Hart and I slipped into the room and set up the feast.

  Pressing the button on the side of the bed, Will sat up and watched in astonishment. “What is all this?”

  “Christmas Eve dinner,” I explained, clearing off the hospital table to make room.

  Like a well-oiled machine, Hart unpacked the cooler, handing off each item to me. I dished out the food while Hart poured a small amount of wine into the plastic hospital cups.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Will said with a slight shake in his voice.

  I divvied out the silverware. “You can thank Hart. If it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be about to sink your teeth into this deliciousness.”

  Will’s head jerked in Hart’s direction. “Really? How’s that?”

  “The dude at the desk has a hard-on for me.” Hart blurted out.

  More laughter filled the room. I won’t ever stop being amazed by Hart. The way he was handling this situation was beyond anything I could have expected. Just the fact that he offered to come and spend time with my ex spoke volumes about the type of character he possessed and the depth of his love for me.

  Raising his plastic cup, gazing at me, Hart toasted. “To love, life, and happiness.”

  Warmth started in my cheeks and spread the entire length of my body as I took a sip of wine.

  “I’d
like to add to that toast if you don’t mind,” Will said.

  With my gaze on Hart, I searched for any signs that indicated he thought Will was stealing his thunder. Catching the subtle glint in his eyes, I knew he was fine. “Sure.”

  All three of us raised our cups once more.

  Grateful dark brown eyes looked directly at me and Hart. “To friendship, generosity, and kindness.”

  “Cheers!” We said in union.

  The dinner conversation was fairly benign—holiday memories, football, and basketball took up most of the talk. It was as if we’d all taken a silent vow not to delve into any explosive subjects. After the food was gone we were all too full to bother with dessert or dealing with Chad. The guys watched ESPN while I cleaned up. They made random comments here and there but for the most part were quiet.

  Even though I was exhausted and craved alone time with Hart, I was in no rush to end the night. Our visit seemed to really help Will’s spirits. It was no secret this would more than likely be the last holiday he would see so it needed to be a happy one. I curled up in the recliner draping an extra blanket over me. My eyelids drifted down as ESPN faded into the background. The next thing I knew the raspy deep voice of the man I loved swirled in my ears.

  “Not a problem,” Hart said.

  “I mean it. Coming here tonight was very generous of both of you. I know Bryson’s being pulled in all directions.”

  My eyes stayed closed and my ears open.

  Hart cleared his throat. “She’s a strong woman.”

  “Yeah, she is.” Pause. “Bryson said you went to high school with us.”

  “Just senior year.”

  Cough. Cough. “Funny, I don’t remember you.”

  “You were busy getting hit in the head with a football. Besides, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowd.”

  “I know but Bryson and I did. All of our friends were the same for the most part. It’s just odd she remembered you well enough to recognize you at the rehab after all these years.”

  Hart was silent for a long time. When he finally responded there was tension in his tone. “Look, Will. I’m sorry you’re sick. No one should have to go through this disease. But you and I will never be friends. I tolerate you because you’re in Bryson’s life. I’m here for her. Period.”

  “Are you in love with her?” Will asked with a slight tremble in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you better be good to her or I’ll come back and go all poltergeist on your ass.”

  The sounds of Sports Center replaced the tense voice. Snuggling deeper into the chair, I faded back to dozing with a smile on my face, feeling loved and protected.

  “Bryson!”

  I bolted straight up in bed at the sound of Will’s strained voice coming over the baby monitor.

  Will was discharged three weeks ago on New Year’s Day. With his immune system being so compromised the pneumonia took a big toll on his body. His cough had gotten deeper, his body was weaker, and his appetite was almost nonexistent. With each day that passed he seemed to be spending more time in bed. While in the hospital Will noticed the vision in his right eye had deteriorated, another side effect of the disease. He was able to get around the house on his own and take care of himself. But with the loss of vision and his weak body driving had become a thing of the past. Nancy had been kind enough to work my schedule around any doctor visits Will had since I was his driver now. Will put on a brave face, claiming to be feeling better and stronger. But I couldn’t see any evidence of it.

  I shook the sleep from my head while tossing the blanket off of me. After work I had come up to my room to change clothes. Before heading downstairs to make a dinner Will probably wasn’t going to eat, I lay down on the bed. Apparently my body needed the rest because an hour later, I was startled from a deep sleep by Will’s call. Looking down, I checked to make sure I had indeed already changed into my pair of navy blue sweatpants and gray sweatshirt.

  For some reason as I ran out of the room I took the baby monitor with me. It had been one of the gifts my parents had bought when I was pregnant. I was able to donate the things Will and I had bought for the baby, but I kept everything both sets of grandparents bought. When Will came home from the hospital this time, I thought we could put it to good use in case he needed me during the night. Moans and a coughing fit blared through the tiny speaker as I descended the stairs.

  I headed into Will’s room without knocking. He was sitting on the side of the bed hunched over with his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. The brown long-sleeve crewneck his body once filled out, hung loosely to his skeletal frame.

  “Sorry, I didn’t get here quicker. I fell asleep,” I said, as I squatted in front of him.

  His face was beet red while his lips were faintly tinted blue due to his uncontrolled coughing.

  “Do you want me to get your oxygen?”

  Raising his index finger, he shook his head in response. Will’s poor lungs had been beaten up so much between the cancer and the pneumonia that Dr. Rudolph put him on oxygen. At first Will argued with the doctor, not wanting to be tethered to the tank, but breathing won out. He still used it only as a last resort.

  After several deep inhalations through his nose, Will’s breathing regulated and the coughing subsided.

  Lifting his gaze to mine, he said, “I wanted to take a shower but I was having a hard time standing and then the fucking coughing started.”

  “I’ve told you over and over to call me when you need to get up. You’re not steady enough on your feet yet to be trying it on your own.”

  The whiny Will from the rehab had disappeared and in his place was the stubborn Will. When Dr. Rudolph ordered a walker and a wheelchair on discharge from the hospital, Will was not happy and refused to take them. Without Will knowing, I went back the next day to pick up both items and stored them in the large hallway closet. Better to be safe than sorry. I understood where Will was coming from. AIDS was stripping everything from him little by little and he was determined to put up a fight to the end.

  “I’m not a baby, Bryson.”

  “Then stop acting like one and ask for help.”

  “Would you please help me into the bathroom so I can take a shower?”

  Standing, I teased. “See, that wasn’t too difficult.”

  As Will draped his arm around my shoulders, I wrapped mine around his waist and lifted. Gripping my shoulder like he was hanging on for dear life, Will and I slowly made our way toward the bathroom, each step harder than the last as his energy level dwindled. Once inside, I helped him lower onto the shower seat we’d gotten the second day he was home from the hospital. His legs weren’t strong or steady enough to risk standing in a shower.

  Turning on the water, I aimed the handheld showerhead away from Will. “I’ll get the water going so it can heat up.”

  Will nodded without looking toward me.

  I gathered the shower gel, shampoo, washcloth, towel, and a pair of pajamas, placing everything on the small portable folding table we’d set up.

  “Do you want your shaving kit?”

  Will shook his head.

  “Do you need me to help you get undressed?”

  Dark brown tear-filled eyes looked up at me. “I need help standing to get my pants off.”

  “Okay, I’ll pull you up and then you can steady yourself on my shoulders, while I slide them down.”

  Will put his hands in mine and I tugged him into a standing position. Once he felt secure enough, I undid his jeans. His body tensed and his fingers dug into my skin as I pushed the denim and his boxers down to mid-thigh. Easing Will back down, I squatted and gently tugged his jeans and underwear off. As I looked up, I caught tears running down his sunken cheeks. His dignity was being ciphered off a little more each day. I wasn’t sure whether or not to say anything. I didn’t want to make him feel even more self-conscious but I also didn’t want him to feel less than the person he was.

  “Thank you, Bryson.”
>
  I stood and folded the pair of jeans. “No problem.”

  “I don’t deserve your compassion but I need you to know how much I appreciate it.”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said, “I know. I’m glad I can be here for you.”

  A faint smile ghosted over his thin lips.

  “I’ll go get supper ready. Call me when you’re done or need anything.”

  He simply nodded as he wiped his tears.

  Pulling the door shut, I caught Will taking off his shirt. My hand flew to my mouth as an audible gasp escaped me. Thank god the shower drowned it out enough so he didn’t hear. I’d felt how thin Will had gotten whenever I helped him walk but to see it was another thing. The once athletic body had been eaten away. His shoulder blades were bony and protruded out so far they looked as if they could cut through his skin. And there had to be at least a dozen or more Kaposi lesions scattered up and down his back.

  Tears stung the back of my eyes as the tightening in my chest grew so intense it shattered my heart. I wondered what went through Will’s mind when he looked in the mirror. He seemed more interested in making amends rather than sharing his feelings about what was happening to him. As his body weakened, I saw the fear in his eyes strengthen. But at this point, I couldn’t tell if Will was afraid of dying or living.

  “Bryson!”

  My body jumped, causing the spoon to slip from my hand and into the big bowl of chicken salad I was mixing. I looked up to find Nancy standing in the doorway of her office, glaring at me, pointing at me, summoning me. My mind quickly flipped through possible reasons as to why she was pissed off at me. Nothing obvious was popping up at the moment.

  “Bryson!” Nancy’s voice bounced off the walls.

  “Coming!” I quickly covered the bowl of chicken salad.

  Wiping my hands with the rag, I hurried across the room and into Nancy’s office.

  She was sitting behind her desk looking intently at the computer. “Close the door and sit down, please.”

  Behind the gruff intimidating exterior Nancy was a caring and good-hearted person. A year ago she was the only one willing to give me a chance to prove myself with this job. She’d become a bit like a second mom to me. But there were still times when she scared the shit out of me.

 

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