Slow Pitch

by Amy Lane

  “You don’t know how to whine.”

  Tenner laughed hoarsely, his throat going like broken glass. “Watch me.” And his stomach gurgled. “In about half an hour. For now, I need to go die alone.”

  Ross grunted. “I may need your upstairs bathroom, then.”

  They looked at each other miserably.

  “One, two, three, break?” Tenner punctuated the “break” by pushing himself weakly off the couch, and Ross followed. They split at the stairs, and the next two hours were spent in painful puking solitude.

  THIS TIME, Tenner managed to fall—clean and shivering and wearing only briefs—into the guest bed. Ross was there too, making him drink some of Patrick’s tea. Tenner gulped it down because apparently Pat and Desi knew their home remedies, and the tea really did help him feel better. But when Ross would have made him drink more, Tenner paused.

  “Have you had any?”

  Ross grunted, and Tenner made him drink the last of it.

  “Okay,” Tenner mumbled. “Get me another robe.”

  Ross was already in bed next to him. “Where are you going?”

  “To brew more tea. I want gallons of it. It shall be the only thing we drink. We shall both be brilliantly translucent vessels filled with whatever wonderful chamomile and ginger magic is infusing me right now.”

  Ross whimpered, shivering in the bed. “Can you bring me some ibuprofen, Oh Translucent One?”

  Tenner gave his own shudder. “Sure. I’ll take some of that myself.”

  LATER, TENNER would claim not to remember much of that week—but he lied. He remembered every moment of it. He remembered the fever, the shakes, the torn-up throat, the ripped-up chest, and coughing until he was afraid he’d crack a rib.

  He also remembered the hours of stupid sitcoms that made him and Ross giggle like children because God, anything was better than the misery of being sick.

  He remembered calling Nina and bailing on dance and then calling Hanford and bailing on the game and then calling Nina and bailing on the weekend.

  “Honey, are you okay?” Nina asked the second time he called. “That’s a long time to be sick!”

  “Ross is here,” Tenner told her, too sick to care about propriety. “We got sick at the same time, so Pat kicked him over here so he and Des could take care of the kids.”

  “Oh no. Poor guy. Stuck at some stranger’s house for a week. What were Pat and Desi thinking?”

  Tenner opened his mouth to say, “They were thinking since we were sharing germs anyway, we might as well just share the joys of being gross,” but then Piper’s voice came on the phone. “Let me have it—Daddy! You’re sick? You can’t be sick! Are you all alone?”

  “No, sweetpea. Ross is with me.”

  “Oh, good. Ross won’t let anything bad happen to you.” And then, in an aside to Nina, she said, “Ross is really strong, Mommy. And he’s even taller than Daddy. He can take care of Daddy.”

  “I take care of Ross too!” Tenner said, feeling defensive. “We take turns.”

  “Good, Daddy. You tell Ross that’s fine. You can take care of him too. I said it was okay.”

  Tenner’s head ached fiercely, and as he spoke, he started rooting for the ibuprofen in the kitchen cupboard. He’d made this phone call after Ross had drifted off to sleep in front of the television, and Tenner was feeling like they both needed to be in bed soon.

  “I’ll tell him that, baby. Me and Ross will take care of each other and you said it was okay.”

  “Good. I love you, Daddy. Mom says we can come by and visit tomorrow to make sure you’re not dead.”

  Oh God, he must have missed that part of the conversation. He leaned his head weakly against the cabinets. “No, honey. Nina, no. Don’t come. You’ll both get the crud. No, no, no. You can’t touch us or breathe our air or touch anything we’ve touched. I’m going to have to burn the furniture. Nina, don’t. Save yourselves.”

  “Have the two of you even eaten in the last week?” she asked, taking the phone again in exasperation.

  “Patrick keeps leaving big pots of soup at the door, ringing the doorbell, and running away.” Like the coward he was, Tenner thought bitterly, even though that wasn’t fair. “We’ve started washing the pot and leaving it on the step when we’re through with it so Desi doesn’t run out of cookware.”

  “Honey, I’m taking my Tamiflu, and I’ve got Piper on something for kids. We won’t lick your face or anything, but she really needs to see you’re okay.”

  “Just not for long. I’m serious about you guys not wanting a piece of this, okay?”

  “I understand. I need to make sure you and this virtual stranger aren’t dead.”

  “He’s a friend,” Tenner mumbled, needing to sit in the worst way. “One of the best. More than a friend. A—” boyfriend.

  “Sure, he is, honey. You’re brothers in germs. I get it. Now go to bed. I still have your key. I’ll just swing by tomorrow after work, okay? No germ swapping, I promise.”

  “Sure. Whatever. Going to bed now.”

  What could possibly go wrong with that?

  Because he knew. He knew that one look at the two of them together, the way they touched, the way they bickered, and Nina would get what Tenner had been trying to tell her, and all of this good feeling between them would be gone.

  But then, he thought fuzzily, he’d be left in the house with Ross, in sickness and in health. And God knew, they were dealing with the sickness at the moment, and they didn’t seem to hate each other. In fact, Tenner wanted nothing more than to climb back in bed and cough out his lungs next to the man he loved.

  So, not a total loss.

  “Bye, Ten. Feel better.”

  “Bye, Nina. I’ll try.”

  By the time Tenner got back to the couch, he felt like he’d been on safari for months.

  “Whowuzat?” Ross mumbled, shoving his back into the corner of the couch and opening his arms. The day before, Tenner would have told him to fuck off, because they’d been sweating like lathered moose. Today, they were down to a midgrade fever—uncomfortable, exhausting, but a much better cuddle temperature. Tenner burrowed in and turned bleary eyes toward the TV.

  “Nina. She’s gonna bring Piper by tomorrow. We should probably get dressed.” They’d managed two loads of laundry—sheets, underwear, and pajama bottoms—and were ready for a third.

  “I’ll break out the sharp threads and dancing shoes,” Ross told him. “Tomorrow.”

  “It’s a date.”

  “Speaking of… seriously. What day is it?”

  “Saturday.”

  Ross grunted. “Fuck. Fuckity bugger me fuck.”

  Tenner let out an amused breath. “Not anytime in this last week, no. Why do you ask?”

  “That’s why I’m mad. I’m down to three weeks.”

  Tenner grunted. “Fuck is inadequate,” he said, his heart aching. “I want my week back.” Ross would be gone two months—if he came back. Tenner hadn’t wanted to ask. How could he? He hadn’t even come out to Piper. God, how could he expect—

  “I’ll come back,” Ross whispered.

  “I should have my shit together by now,” Tenner muttered, broken. “I was going to be all functional, and my family was going to be happy and accepting, and my daughter was going to be so well adjusted, and—”

  “Aw, baby. You are functional, and your daughter is perfect. Like scary perfect. No, seriously, I’ve been living with Pat’s kids for five weeks, and they’re pretty awesome, but they’re horrible to each other. I swear, Abner borrows his sisters’ yoga pants for dance so he can fart in them. They’re rotting out at the crotch. It’s terrifying.”

  Tenner managed a weak chuckle, wondering how Ross could make him laugh even when they were both dying of the plague. “But I haven’t told her yet,” he bemoaned, and Ross gave one of those sounds that told Tenner he might have some bad news.

  “Ten?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Look, I have no concrete way of knowing
this, and we need to act like I’m wrong, but… uh….”

  Tenner pushed himself up on Ross’s chest with a concerned look. “What?”

  “Look, everything I know about kids tells me that she might have an inkling. That’s all. So, you know, don’t be surprised if she knows.”

  Aw. “So sweet,” Tenner murmured, patting his cheek. “So naïve. Kids really don’t give two shits what grown-ups do. You know that, right?”

  Ross met his eyes with bleary amusement. “Sure, baby. Let’s pretend that’s true.”

  Tenner collapsed back on his chest. “You make me tired just talking to you. Press Play.”

  “What’re we watching?”

  “Anything you want. You win today. Maybe tomorrow I win.”

  Ross yawned. “Good luck with that. Do we know when she’s coming?”

  “Sometime after ten.”

  “How do we know that?”

  “Because that is the absolute earliest the two of us can be up and showered and in clean clothes.”

  “That is totally fair.” He didn’t question any further, but he should have.

  But then, Tenner should have too.

  THE NEXT morning they felt marginally better—their fevers were still low-grade and exhausting, but they both managed showers, and after two loads of laundry, Ross could wear his own pajama pants and underwear as well.

  Pat had awakened them that morning with a half-gallon of orange juice and a big tub of sliced mangos, kiwis, and strawberries. He actually brought it to the door this time and didn’t just drop the supplies and run.

  “How you guys doing?” he asked seriously, scowling at them both. “Ross, you’ve lost ten pounds. Tenner, you’ve lost fifteen, and you’re shorter.” He yawned. “I’ll order you guys some groceries. You can eat and sleep for the next two days and maybe make it to work on Tuesday—”

  “Wednesday,” Ross said without batting an eyelash.

  “But Ross, I can make it back by Tue—”

  “Wednesday,” Ross said, looking at Pat meaningfully.

  Pat nodded. “Wednesday it is! But Ross, you’ve got to spend Wednesday night at the homestead so the kids know I haven’t killed you and buried the body.”

  Ross snorted. “They’re the assholes who gave me the plague. Burying my body would have been a kindness.”

  Pat nodded and yawned again. “Yeah. I’m not arguing. They’re going back to school tomorrow, but I think Desi and I are staying home and sleeping. This week, man. It’s like it dropped off the fucking map.”

  Pat took off after that, and Tenner and Ross had orange juice and all the vitamin C fruit they could handle—which wasn’t much at this point—and then sat down on the couch, exhausted.

  “Why Wednesday?” Tenner asked as Ross found the remote in what felt to be a routine they’d been practicing for years.

  “So we can have sex all day Tuesday.”

  Tenner stared at him. “Are you shitting me?”

  “I don’t know why that freaks you out. Dammit, the world owes me. I fall in love over an eight-week break, and one of those weeks is stolen by the plague? I want some sex!” He let out a little yawn. “Just as soon as we can both get it up, there will be sex.”

  “I have never in my life taken a sick day for sex.”

  “Heh, heh, heh. Well, technically, it’s a personal day for sex. If you were sick, you wouldn’t be having sex.”

  Well, couldn’t fault that logic. “Witness the last week.” Tenner yawned too and checked his phone. Nothing from Nina yet. He slumped against Ross, who in turn slumped against the pillows. Joe jumped up on his backside, determined to get every bit of snuggling out of his two human heating pads, and they both gave a prenap cough, then settled in to watch TV.

  Or really, settled in to sleep.

  Which was where they were when Nina let herself in.

  Reckoning and Wreckoning

  “TENNER?” THE voice was unfamiliar, but the tone was everything.

  Ross opened his eyes and looked into the face of the enemy.

  “Shh!” he said, maybe unnecessarily, because Tenner was limp on his chest and didn’t seem to be waking up for anything. “God, he’s asleep. Do you have any idea how much we would have given for real sleep this last week?”

  She gaped at him. A pretty woman—delicate, with dark hair pulled into a ponytail, pale gold skin, and wide brown eyes. She had the cutest little cupid’s bow mouth he’d ever seen. Obviously Piper’s mother, and those wide brown eyes were filling with hurt and anger.

  “Sorry,” Ross murmured. “Here, let me….” He wiggled out from under Tenner, who slid to the side and mumbled incoherently before hugging the throw pillow that had been bolstering Ross’s back.

  He stood creakily to his feet and grinned at Piper, who threw herself at him without reservation.

  “Ross! You and Daddy were napping together—it was adorable!”

  Ross wanted to shake Tenner awake so he’d hear that and know Ross was right. Naïve! Ha! But he contented himself with giving Piper a quick hug and then setting her at arm’s length.

  “All right, little Piper Cub, you need the rules. Me and your daddy have been very sick for a long time. No more hugs.” Her face fell, and he felt like an ass. “Here, let’s do elbow hugs. Stick out your elbow like this.” She did, shy delight taking over the disappointment, and he matched her stance and rubbed elbows with her. “That’s the only kind of hug we give when we’re sick, deal?”

  “Yeah, Ross. Can I go wake Daddy up and elbow hug him?”

  “No, Piper—” Nina said, but Ross shook his head, and to his relief, she quieted down.

  “Sure, sugar. Just only touch his elbow, okay?”

  “Okay! See, Mom? I told you he would take care of Daddy!”

  The closed expression on Nina’s face made Ross swear softly under his breath.

  “Yeah,” Nina said bitterly. “Ross can definitely take care of Daddy.”

  “Don’t be mean,” he said softly. “You being mean in front of Piper is his biggest fear. C’mon, Nina. You’re raising such a happy kid. Don’t wreck that.”

  Nina’s expression turned stricken, and she stalked into the kitchen, hauling several bags of groceries. Ross followed, hard on her heels.

  “He should have told me,” she muttered, setting the bags down so she could pace. “He should have….” She stopped and swallowed. “He tried,” she said as if to herself. “It’s like I can hear all the things he was trying to say and I just ran right over him. He tried to tell me, taking it slowly. ‘Cause God knows I don’t take surprises well. I suck at it. They make me fucking stabby. But….” She trailed off and looked at Ross in misery. “This was a surprise. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. And now I’m pissed off. And I probably have no right to be, but I am. I’m trying to make myself be a nicer person or a better person, but it isn’t working. And you guys are sick, and I’m pissed, and—”

  “Shh….” He smiled reassuringly. “You’re doing fine. Don’t beat yourself up too much. We….” He grimaced and gestured to the kitchen with the clean sink and swept floor. “We sort of cleaned up for you, and I’m afraid it tuckered us out. Ten even managed to spray-bleach the furniture and throw a sheet over it. He really didn’t want you guys to get sick.”

  Nina watched him as he spoke, her big brown eyes luminous and wide. “It is so hard,” she said, her voice gruff, “to reconcile the Tenner who works so hard to keep us healthy, to make us happy, to accommodate everything I need, with the guy who was asleep in your arms five minutes ago.”

  Ross blinked several times, not sure how to help with this one. “I…. See, I’m too close to this,” he said apologetically, thinking about how easy it was to soothe Tenner’s mother compared to the nightmare of understanding and resentment that was building in his chest toward Nina. “I can’t see anybody else. He’s the same guy. Piper is his priority—yes, even over me. I’m fine with that. My parents raised us all to worship the baby god. Give the child absolutel
y everything they wanted or needed, no questions asked. And you’d think that would make us all spoiled rotten. I mean, I’m the youngest, right? I should be a nightmare of self-interest. But that’s not what happened at all.”

  “What happened?” Nina asked blankly as if surprised to find herself in this conversation.

  “We grew up to worship the next baby god. The young person in the family comes first, and that love rolls downhill.”

  Nina swallowed again and reached for the bags, but Ross beat her to it.

  “Here, let me put these away.” He yawned into his shoulder. “You brought us food and that was so nice—”

  And that, of all things, seemed to help. “Sit,” she said shortly. “You’ve both been sick, and I’m here trying to do something nice, and I can’t make that happen if I’m having a bitch conniption.” She started pulling essentials out of the bags—fresh bread, preshredded chicken, salad fixings. When she opened the refrigerator, she made approving sounds. “Desi’s been making you soup,” she said happily.

  “Yeah. My sister’s the best.”

  She glanced at him, chewing that adorable little mouth. Oh, Tenner, if you were going to try for a girl, this would be the one. Ross could see how she’d appeal to him, to his chivalry, to his pixilated sense of humor. She wasn’t Ross’s type emotionally—high maintenance, even when she was working hard to be a lower-key person—but he had to give her points for trying.

  “You’re really Patrick’s brother-in-law,” she said, almost musingly. “I… I heard Pat and Desi talk about you a million times, you know. You’re sort of the family hero. I….” She shook her head. “Okay, I didn’t realize you were gay, and that shouldn’t mean anything. I mean, with Desi and Pat, it didn’t. You were just her little brother and she’s proud of you. Why would she mention that you’re gay? Like, she’s not going to tell me your sex life. It shouldn’t matter to me. So why am I surprised?”

  He smiled briefly, liking her repeated attempts to talk herself down. He could see why Tenner worked so hard to keep her happy—worked so hard to introduce things like his new relationship a little bit at a time. She wasn’t evil. She wasn’t even really bitchy. She was complicated. And obviously a good mother. Ross was going to have to work hard too.