by J P Barnaby
“I know all about you, Dr. Thomas. We researched you thoroughly when we were looking for a therapist for Aaron. I thought you were a savior until I found out you’re an alcoholic and your practice closed because your partner was having sex with an underage patient. That’s not the kind of help my son needed or deserved. Now I find out you’ve been treating him without my knowledge or consent. How are you getting paid, Dr. Thomas? I haven’t gotten any kind of statement from the insurance company. Was that part of the plan to hide it from his family? What are you doing with my son?”
Spencer’s eyes were wide as he looked between his father and Aaron’s mother. He looked sick, but unsurprised by the accusations. Did he know his father was an alcoholic? Did he know about the underage patient? He lived with Dr. Thomas; he had to know something. Aaron didn’t believe Spencer’s father would hurt him or set back his recovery. He’d been helping Aaron.
“Mom,” Aaron said after taking a deep, steadying breath.
She clutched at her handbag, and her wide eyes filled with tears.
“I… I need to talk to your father about this. I don’t like him treating you. Maybe we can find someone else, someone who—”
“No,” Aaron interrupted. “Dr. Thomas has done more for me in the last couple of months than anyone has ever done. He’s taught me techniques to help control things that set me off. He’s helping me work through some of the stuff in my head.”
“Let’s go home and talk it over with your father,” she said, and her voice broached no argument. Aaron looked helplessly at Spencer and then at Dr. Thomas.
“Mrs. Downing, Aaron is an adult. If he wants to continue treatment, I will abide by his wishes.” Aaron’s mother started to interrupt, but he continued. “However, I did tell Aaron it would be better for him to include his family in therapy. I was under the impression you were at least aware of his choice. Why he’s not mentioned it, I can only make an educated guess. But this is his life; you need to take his wants and needs into consideration.”
“I have always made sure my boys had what they needed. All of them. You’ve known him for what? A month? Two months? How could you possibly know what he needs? Is your son getting what he needs from you?” Michelle’s face paled as Spencer stepped up beside his father, ready to defend him, but she stood resolute in her judgment.
Aaron saw the fight coming; he could feel it. Still shaky from the mind mapping exercise and the memory he’d had to conjure for it, he couldn’t take watching them fight. They, along with his father and brothers, were the people in his life who meant the very most to him. He also needed to work out what he’d heard about Dr. Thomas. Not about the partner getting caught with an underage patient, but about the alcoholism. The doctor really had no control over what his partner did, but he did make the choice to drink. With the memory of the men’s beer-laden breath still fresh in his mind, Aaron didn’t want to think about the atrocities men could do to each other while drinking.
“Mom, let’s just go home, please….”
With a soft look at her son, Aaron’s mother relented and turned to go. Only when they were in the car and safely out of the Thomas’s subdivision, did Aaron pull out his cell phone and send a text to Spencer.
AARON: I’m sorry I didn’t tell my mom about therapy. My parents picked all of my therapists, and none of them helped me a bit. It was the first decision I’d made on my own since that night. I didn’t want anything to ruin it.
SPENCER: It is okay. My dad is not angry.
AARON: Are you angry?
SPENCER: Me? Of course not. I just wish I would have gotten to spend some time with you today.
AARON: Me too.
“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dr. Thomas,” Aaron said, breaking the awful silence that filled the car. She glanced over as she stopped for a red light, and he continued. “I… I heard you and dad talking a couple of months ago about… an… an institution, and—”
“Oh, Aaron….” She pulled over to the side of the road and into the parking lot of their local grocery store. God, he’d been there a million times when he was a kid, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d set foot in it. It was just one more part of his old life that seemed a million miles away. His mother turned completely in her seat so that she faced him, and one tear slipped down her cheek. “That night, your father was upset about Allen. He feels so helpless because he wants to make things better for you and he can’t. I’m so sorry you heard it, because he didn’t mean it. We never wanted you away from us.”
“Allen heard it too. He had come in to apologize for yelling at me, and he stood in the hall and listened with me. Anyway, Dr. Thomas is helping me, Mom. I even…,” he started, but couldn’t quite finish. He wasn’t sure that kissing was something guys talked about with their moms. But then, Aaron didn’t have the same kind of relationship with his mom that most guys did. Theirs was closer.
“You even what, sweetheart?”
“A couple of days ago, I saw a chat message from Spencer’s dad to him by accident. He was talking about how Spencer liked me. So I told him I liked him too.” Nerves and embarrassment making his voice higher and faster, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down before he continued. He couldn’t tell her about the kiss. He didn’t want to make things worse. “It felt… normal, and right.”
Aaron’s mother watched him for a long time, until the silence became uncomfortable.
“We don’t know if a relationship would work between us, but I just… I wanted to try. I really like him, Mom. He makes me feel almost… safe.”
“Honey, when you get into a relationship like that, when anyone does, you never know if it’s going to work out until it does. You just have to have faith in the other person and a little patience. Yes, you guys have a few obstacles in your way, but most couples do—they’re just different ones.”
“You really think we could make it work?” Aaron could hear the hope in his voice and did little to contain it. He wanted his mother’s assurance that everything would be okay; the same assurance he’d gotten from her for as long as he could remember. If his mother told him they had a chance, he would believe her.
“I think you can do anything you put your mind to, Aaron. But I don’t want you with a therapist who is going to do more damage than good.”
The family decided to put off Allen’s dinner for another night. Aaron sat at the breakfast bar after dinner while his mother loaded the dishwasher. She soaked the enchilada pan for far longer than she would normally take. She took the burners off the stove and scrubbed them down. He sighed when she went into the cabinet and pulled out oven cleaner.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly, trying to sound casual. His mother had mentioned to his father they needed to talk about something later, something about Aaron. Allen and Anthony glanced up from their dinners as their father hesitated and then nodded. No talk about Aaron ever went well in their house. Allen shot a nervous glance at Aaron, who mouthed to his brother that it was okay. The entire family walked on eggshells where Aaron was concerned, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron wanted it to stop.
“Honey, I just… I don’t know what the right answer is for this one. I’m hoping your father does.”
“A right answer about what?” John Downing asked as he came into the kitchen, probably looking to see what was taking Michelle so long to initiate their conversation. He picked up a dish towel from the counter and started to dry the burners from the stove.
“Aaron, you should go up to your room so your father and I can talk,” his mother sighed as she pulled the drain on the kitchen sink. He watched as she wiped her hands on a towel hanging on the handle of the oven door, and tried to figure out how to frame what he wanted to say. For most of his life, his mother had done everything for him, and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but he needed to start taking ownership of his life, just like he took ownership of his therapy.
“Mom, this is really important to me. I think I need to be a
part of the conversation,” Aaron told her. He turned to look at his father, who stared at him. It had been a very long time since he’d had an opinion on anything that happened in the house. Usually, he simply took his medication and tried very hard to be something resembling human. He hadn’t completely worked out what it meant that his therapist was an alcoholic, but he wouldn’t stop seeing Dr. Thomas. It was the first time in two very long years that he had any hope. No one would take that from him.
“Okay, Aaron,” his mother said, and it looked like she didn’t think it would be worth the battle. She held a hand out in the direction of the kitchen table. Aaron led the way, followed by his parents, and sat, not at his usual seat in the back, but at the head of the table nearest the door leading to the deck, where his father normally sat. His parents sat next to each other on the front side of the table nearest the kitchen. He liked that they held hands.
“Could someone tell me what’s happening, please?” John Downing asked, and to Aaron it looked as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable not knowing what the conversation would be about. It was clear from their kitchen talk that he was the only one who didn’t know what they’d be discussing.
Aaron’s mother squeezed her husband’s hand and began. “This afternoon, when I picked Aaron up from Spencer’s house, I found out Aaron has been seeing a therapist and kept it from us.”
It was probably the nicest way she could have said it.
His father frowned. “I don’t understand. You haven’t talked to any of the therapists we’ve met with. Why would you try to find one on your own? Why meet him in secret? Why Spencer’s house? Did you think we wouldn’t understand?”
His father’s voice, hurt and confused, made Aaron’s throat constrict painfully. He’d never meant to hurt his parents. He’d never meant to hurt anyone.
“John, he heard us talking the night of Allen’s date. He thought we were going to send him to an institution,” she told her husband with a flash of anger across her delicate features. His father blanched as his eyes, so like Aaron’s, widened with shock and remorse.
“Oh, Aaron, I was upset, and I… we… it never… I’m so sorry.” It was the first time in his life he’d ever seen his father stammer or search for the right words. Always so perfectly articulate and poised, he never fumbled.
“I told him that,” Michelle assured her husband as he worked to pull himself back together. He didn’t cry, but sorrow and remorse radiated from him—kind of the way Aaron used to be. After a few minutes of silence, he looked to his wife and asked the question that needed to be asked.
“So, why does Aaron seeing a therapist pose a problem? Just the fact that he’s sitting here at the table, participating in the conversation, shows that something is helping. A few months ago, he’d have gone to his room and let us decide what should happen for him.”
“The therapist he’s seeing is Spencer’s father, Henry Thomas,” she said with a sigh, and when her husband didn’t immediately show any sign of recognition, she elaborated. “You and I looked into taking Aaron to Dr. Thomas when he first came home. Then we found out his practice had closed because his partner slept with an underage patient.”
“Oh, that’s right. Wasn’t he the alcoholic?” The smile slid from his father’s face as he remembered, and suddenly, Aaron felt bad for Dr. Thomas. Was that all anyone thought of when his name was mentioned? Just like Aaron. The scars, the attack—that’s all anyone thought of when Aaron’s name was mentioned. It’s like he didn’t exist; only his reputation existed, and he had a reputation for something he hadn’t even done. Just like Dr. Thomas and his partner sleeping with a patient.
“Yes, that’s why I’m worried about Aaron seeing him. I’m also worried that he’s been hiding his therapy,” Michelle said with a glance at Aaron, who they were talking about like he wasn’t sitting at the table.
“I didn’t know about the alcoholism, but even if I did, it probably wouldn’t have stopped me. I hid it from you because it was the first adult decision I’d ever made, and I didn’t want anything to mess it up,” Aaron said, but didn’t add the unspoken like what’s happening right now before he continued. “I don’t care who his partner slept with. He didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he’s done lots of things right. That first day I went to Spencer’s house to work on the project, I had a flashback. Not only that, I hit my head on the coffee table and split it open so there was blood. Dr. Thomas knew exactly what to do, and he’s been helping me ever since. He’s teaching me ways to deal with the attack, helping me figure out what my triggers are for the flashbacks, and we’ve found some healthy outlets for my stress.”
“Aaron, it’s not that we doubt what’s he’s doing. I’m just worried about his intentions, and about his drinking problem. What if he’s a violent drunk? What if he hurts you?” his mother asked.
Aaron hoped they could see what kind of progress he’d made over the last few months, hell, over the last few weeks, and understand that, whatever his failings, Dr. Thomas was a good influence.
“He never drank while I was there. I had no idea about the alcohol until you mentioned it today. Every session has been controlled and had some kind of purpose—like the one you saw today. He’s been working with me to help identify the triggers that set off my panic attacks. You’ll notice I haven’t had a bad one in a while. Storms, blood, being touched unexpectedly, even the smell of gasoline—they all trigger memories in my head of that night. I have been learning to either avoid them, or manage my reaction to them. Stress makes them worse. Dr. Thomas has been teaching me ways to reduce my stress. I have an online blog I work out my feelings in. He had me start looking for online support groups so I could talk to other people who understood, because that helps me not be so isolated. There are, like, a million different things he’s been doing to help me and….” Aaron held his mother’s gaze and steadied himself before he spoke again. “And I’m not going to stop seeing him, Mom. I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate that, but I’ve felt more human in the past month than I have for two years. Spencer has been taking me to his house for therapy, and Dr. Thomas isn’t charging me, so it doesn’t go through the insurance. I love and respect you both, but you can’t stop me from staying under his care.”
“Aaron, we just want what is best for you,” his father said as his mother stared open-mouthed at him.
“Dr. Thomas is what’s best for me.”
Hours later, Aaron lay in bed and stared unseeing at the darkened ceiling. They’d talked for nearly two hours, always coming back to the same point about Dr. Thomas’s alcoholism. He couldn’t believe his parents wanted to take away the one thing in his life that made him feel human.
Twenty
“THEY HAVEN’T said anything else about it. Maybe they’re looking for a psych ward to stick me in,” Aaron said with a sigh as he let his head fall back onto the couch in the rec room and closed his eyes. Spencer held on tight to Aaron’s hand, ignoring the blatant looks his father gave them from his wing-backed chair. The coffee table in the center of the room seemed to be the line in the sand. It had been a hard couple of weeks with finals, wrapping up the project, and Aaron’s mother’s epic meltdown.
“Aaron, they can’t have you committed unless you are an immediate danger to yourself or to others. Nothing you have told me in the last several months leads me to believe you’re either,” his father told Aaron, apparently to keep him calm, but Spencer could feel, just by the lack of tension in his hand, that Aaron wasn’t stressed. It felt more like he was resigned. Spencer had enough tension for both of them. In his heart, he knew the confrontation wasn’t over, but he had no idea where things would go next.
“I. Know. They. Want. You. To. Stop. Seeing. My. Dad., But. They… Do. They. Like. Me.? Would. They. Make. You. Stop. Seeing. Me.?” He hated the vulnerability in his voice, but Aaron was the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time. His chest ached with the thought that Aaron’s parents might talk him out of being with him. More
and more each day, especially during moments like this, sitting on the couch just holding hands, he was growing to love Aaron. He’d fight for that, against his father or Aaron’s parents, or anyone else that tried to separate them. They’d gone through too fucking much.
“No, I don’t think so. Even if they did, I wouldn’t care,” Aaron said, and the corners of his mouth turned up into a soft, secretive smile. With a quick glance at Spencer’s father, Aaron mouthed soundlessly I’d miss you. You make me feel special. Besides, you’re a great kisser.
Spencer had never seen Aaron be so frivolous and flirtatious before. It lightened his heart, and he leaned over very slowly and kissed Aaron on the cheek.
His pocket buzzed, just as his father looked up toward the hallway.
Doorbell
“I’ll get it,” his father said and pushed up out of the recliner. Aaron rested his temple against Spencer’s cheek. Spencer turned his head slightly and kissed Aaron’s forehead. They sat like that for a minute, which turned to two, and then five before Spencer’s father returned to the room carrying a manila envelope and some official-looking papers. He looked sad, almost resigned, when he sat back down in the chair.
“Dad., Is. Everything. Okay.?” Spencer asked and brought his head up from where it had been resting on the top of Aaron’s. His father flipped through the paperwork, and Spencer saw that the front page looked like some kind of court document. It had the boxes in the top left and some kind of seal or stamp on it.
“Aaron, your parents have filed an injunction to prevent me from treating you. I’m sorry.” He handed Aaron the bundle of papers, held together precariously by their fold, and walked back out to the hallway. Spencer had a feeling he would find his father in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar with a drink.
Aaron already had his cell phone in hand when Spencer looked up into his reddened face to see the rage building.
