by J P Barnaby
“Yes, I remember Ms. Burgoff very well,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.
“She told us that your partner, Dr. Huehn, had an affair with a sixteen-year-old female patient. He is currently serving time for that indiscretion, is he not?”
“He is,” Dr. Thomas said, but again, did not elaborate.
“Your practice closed soon after his arrest. She also told us you showed up to an APA function so intoxicated you could barely stand. Rumors started throughout the psychiatric community in Chicago that you’d become an alcoholic. Do you deny the rumors?” she asked point blank as she stared him down from across the table. The meal was forgotten in the showdown, and Aaron could do nothing but watch with a sick feeling in his stomach.
“I do not deny that I drink; however, I have never done so before a session or even when Aaron is in the house. What I do in my personal time is really none of your concern, and for the record, I haven’t talked to Huehn since his arrest. He hid his affair from everyone, including the staff at the clinic. The only reason anyone found out about it was because of the girl’s pregnancy. The LLC offered Emily and her family a very generous settlement, which I can’t discuss because of a confidentiality agreement, but from what I understand she’s doing very well with the female therapist I recommended for her. I am not a monster, Mrs. Downing. If I didn’t care about your son’s well-being, I wouldn’t be here letting you take your anger out on me,” Dr. Thomas told her, and sat back in his chair, taking another long drink of water. His dinner sat cooling on its plate on the burgundy placemat.
“And what is it that I’m so angry about, doctor? Are you going to do some dinner table analysis?” She laced her voice with sarcasm, and Aaron started to rise and say something to her, but a look from Dr. Thomas stayed him.
“I am not here to antagonize you, Mrs. Downing. I’m here to see if we can come to an amicable solution so that I can continue to help your son,” he answered.
She snorted. “How have you helped him so far? I haven’t seen any changes in him during the last few months that can’t be attributed to his new friendship with Spencer, or working out his issues on his own.”
“Mom, when is the last time I had a panic attack? When is the last time you had to feed me tranquilizers like candy? You want to know what Dr. Thomas has done for me? You want to know how he’s started to give me my life back?” Aaron asked before turning to Spencer.
“Touch me,” he told Spencer in a low voice. “Anywhere you want, just touch me.”
“Aaron, this really isn’t necessary,” Michelle said in a high, panicked voice, no doubt steeling herself for one of Aaron’s meltdowns in the middle of the dining room.
“Aaron, please…,” his father said, his voice mingling with Michelle’s in their fear and concern.
“Do it,” he told Spencer while his parents looked on in horror. Spencer reached over and brushed Aaron’s cheek with his fingers. Aaron’s eyes closed for just a second as he felt his boyfriend’s touch against his face, and then he lifted a hand and held Spencer’s palm against his skin. The gasp he heard belonged to his mother, and he raised his head to see her eyes filled with tears. So, with his free hand, he reached along the table and took her hand.
The tears fell freely.
“How…?” she asked, completely at a loss for words as her tears turned to sobs. The free hand not covered by Aaron’s flew to her mouth, and her quiet cries were the only sound in the room. A chair scraped the tile, and John stood up. He moved around the table to stand next to Michelle and put an arm around her shoulders.
“With Dr. Thomas, I found that my problem is with touches I don’t control. If I reach out and touch you, or I tell Spencer to touch me, I’m controlling it. I still have some issues with being touched unexpectedly, but we’re working on that. Well, we were working on that,” Aaron said with a shrug and pulled Spencer’s hand back down to the table, where he held it.
“What else are you working on?” she asked, and Aaron noticed that she didn’t use past tense when talking about his therapy. The slip encouraged him. Spencer must have heard it too because he squeezed Aaron’s hand gently. Aaron looked up at Dr. Thomas.
“I can’t reveal the content of our therapy sessions, even to your parents, without your permission. Since I don’t have any waivers with me, I can’t divulge any information. If you want them to know, you’ll have to tell them,” he said with a small smile, and Aaron wondered how much of that was true.
“Well, we’ve been working on identifying my triggers for flashbacks and stuff. We found some that I had no idea of—like storms. I didn’t remember that it stormed that night while I was there. So, when it storms, I have a problem leaving the safety of my room. The smell of gasoline, the sight of blood, being touched unexpectedly, all of these things can trigger an episode. Dr. Thomas has encouraged me to find an online support group for rape victims. I found one, but haven’t talked to anyone yet. I just watch the other conversations and see that I’m not as alone as I thought. He showed me that I can distract myself using video games and escape what happened for a little while. That’s just what we’ve accomplished together in the last two months. Imagine what I would have been like in a year, if I could have kept working with him,” Aaron said, again being sure to use past tense so his mother would understand he didn’t want his therapy sessions to be over.
“That’s…,” his mother started.
“Impressive,” his father finished, causing her to look up at him.
“Aaron, we want you to make progress, we do. I’m just scared. What if something happens and Dr. Thomas is no longer able to treat you. What will you do then?” she asked, and Aaron got the impression she was going to make that more descriptive, but decided to spare Dr. Thomas’s feelings.
“Then Dr. Thomas can refer me to another therapist, one he thinks I’ll work well with. I’ll continue using the blog to work out my issues. I’ll keep using the tools we’ve developed. But, honestly, I’ve talked to Dr. Thomas almost every day for the last two months, and I have faith in him. Please, Mom, call off the injunction. I promise to talk to you about what’s happening in my therapy and if I have any concerns about it. I’ll sign a waiver so you can talk to him too,” Aaron insisted, and felt hope well up in his chest. God, he felt like a little kid begging for a puppy, but if that’s what it took, he’d do it.
“I just… I don’t know,” Michelle said again, looking up helplessly at her husband for support.
“I started working with a colleague earlier this week, engaging in therapy myself,” Dr. Thomas offered. “We’re encouraged to have our own therapists for the stress of caring for patients. I haven’t had one for quite a while.” The way he leaned forward in his seat, it almost looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t.
“Oh… I’m glad you’re going to be… feeling better,” she said lamely. It seemed to Aaron as if she were grasping for straws, but something in her expression changed and she looked up again at her husband.
“I’ll talk to Harry about pulling the injunction in the morning,” his father said, and Aaron squeezed Spencer’s hand tightly in his. A wide smile broke across his face, and Spencer’s father smiled back. The wonder in Michelle’s voice tugged at Aaron’s heart.
“There’s my son,” she whispered.
Epilogue
TIME SEEMED to solidify. One moment rolled into the next as Aaron watched each passing second on the clock and waited. He had no idea what Spencer planned for their afternoon together; his friend had merely said they were going out. His fingers jumped rhythmically against his leg as he considered the possibilities. Spencer knew Aaron wouldn’t want to be around people, so dinner or the movies were out. A concert or play was out because it would be even less likely if Spencer couldn’t hear it, but for Spencer, he might try. Maybe. He didn’t like uncertainty or surprises—not anymore.
Aaron didn’t understand why they had to go out in the first place. Over the last few months since they’d made their relationsh
ip official, they’d watched dozens of movies—either in the rec room at Spencer’s house or the family room at his house, always with his head on Spencer’s chest—where they read the closed-captioning together. He liked just being alone with Spencer, talking or touching or kissing. Being around people would make him edgy and tense and they’d probably have a miserable time.
The doorbell rang, and Aaron nearly vomited.
He heard his mother greet Spencer as she let him in, asking him where his coat was. In his slow cadence, Spencer told her he’d left it in the car. Aaron couldn’t help but smile, both at the reassuring sound of Spencer’s voice and at his mother’s caring nature. Some of the fear dissipated as Aaron upended his soda to drink the last few swallows before dropping the empty can in the recycling bin. Shuffling footsteps got louder as Spencer came up the hall and into the kitchen. He looked adorably windswept, his cheeks pink with the blustery February cold. The big gray hoodie, the one he wore everywhere, wrapped around him like a cloak, and his hands were shoved deep into the pockets.
Spencer’s eyes lit up when they found Aaron’s.
“Hey.,” he said as he stepped right up to Aaron. He touched Aaron’s face gently, as if Aaron were made of paper, something fragile but beautiful. It made Aaron feel special, and he leaned forward and covered Spencer’s mouth with his own in a tender, welcoming kiss. Spencer’s face was chilled but his lips warm as they molded to his again and again. Aaron pulled back just enough so Spencer could see his face.
“You have to tell me where we are going. I can’t… I can’t deal with it. Please…,” Aaron said as he bored holes in Spencer’s faded T-shirt with the intensity of his embarrassed stare. While he understood things were better than they’d been a year ago, or even six months ago, his insecurity still forced him to wonder if he would never be the guy Spencer wanted.
“It. Is. Okay.. I. Packed. Some. Stuff. To. Go. Ice. Skating. At. The. Lake. Behind. My. House.. We. Can. Get. Skates. At. That. Sporting. Goods. Place. On. Calumet.. I. Do. Not. Know. How., But. I. Want. To. Learn.,” Spencer said, his face full of hopeful regret.
Aaron sighed. Spencer had never done anything to scare Aaron or hurt him, not on purpose. A day skating sounded nice. It sounded normal, something he and his brothers would have done before their world changed. He just hoped that, on a Tuesday morning, the place was going to be quiet, but with a jacket, scarf, and hat, he doubted anyone would be able to see his scars.
He could be just like everyone else.
“I know you’re sick of being trapped in the house with me. We can go skating,” Aaron said, and though Spencer couldn’t hear the sigh or the trepidation in his voice, Spencer put a hand on his shoulder anyway. Aaron relaxed, and a real smile spread across his face.
“We. Will. Take. It. Slow..”
“You shouldn’t have to take everything slow because of me. Maybe you should be with a guy you can take out in public, or show off to your friends, or fuck.” Aaron’s face heated with the admission, but he didn’t look away. Spencer needed to understand what he was giving up in order to be with Aaron. He needed to know Aaron wasn’t going to magically get better and be the perfect boyfriend just because they could kiss without him having a meltdown. Spencer shook his head.
“You. See. Me.. That. Is. All. I. Have. Ever. Wanted.. We. Can. Figure. Everything. Else. Out..” He placed a small chaste kiss on Aaron’s lips, and Aaron felt him smile. Their fingers entwined, and Spencer held tight as he led Aaron toward the front door.
“The. South. Side. Of. The. Lake., Away. From. The. Houses., Is. Pretty. Quiet.,” Spencer told Aaron as they pulled out of the Sportmart parking lot and back onto the main road. He had gotten Aaron’s shoe size and disappeared into the building. Aaron had actually started to worry before he came back, red-faced, with two pairs of skates and two pairs of thick socks. From his muttering, Aaron had gathered that Spencer had to work hard to make the salesclerk understand what he wanted. Even with the hardship Spencer had to deal with, he never asked Aaron to go inside with him. Aaron could get through an afternoon of skating for Spencer. He could.
It took less than fifteen minutes to pull into Spencer’s subdivision, but rather than turning on his street, they continued past it and turned on a much smaller side street, one that was barely paved. The bumps were amplified in Spencer’s small car, and finally, they reached a small dirt parking area. One other car sat idling in the lot, steam rolling up from the exhaust. Once Spencer and Aaron passed, it pulled out and drove up the small road they’d just come down. They were alone.
Aaron climbed out of the car and looked around. The quiet stillness of the snow calmed his nerves. The lake was more of a large pond than an actual lake, and since the temperature had been below zero for the last week, Aaron figured it was pretty well frozen down to the bottom. Even though he’d never been to that particular lake before, he could see his mother bringing him and his brothers here as little kids, pulling them on a sled, or teaching them to skate on the ice. He could almost see himself out there, fearless, flying across the ice as his mother rushed to keep up. That invincible boy was gone, drowned in the horror and fear of monsters in the dark. He thought maybe through Dr. Thomas and Spencer, though, the boy could be a phoenix and rise from the ashes of his former life. The smallest flame of hope burned inside him, and he nurtured it as he waited for that day.
Spencer came up beside him and squeezed his hand.
“You. Okay.?” he asked as he searched Aaron’s face. Aaron simply squeezed back and smiled. They walked over to a picnic table where Spencer dropped the two bags he’d been carrying. The first, Aaron recognized from the sporting goods store, and it held their skates. The second was a backpack, and the way Spencer slung it onto the table made it look pretty heavy.
“What’s in the bag?” Aaron asked as Spencer looked up with Aaron’s skates and socks in his hand.
“A. Bunch. Of. Muffins. And. A. Thermos. Of. Hot. Chocolate..” He dropped the skates and socks onto the bench and wrapped his arms around Aaron. “I. Like. This. Already..”
Aaron looked around as a cold breeze washed over his face.
“I like it too.” He pressed his lips to Spencer’s, sharing leisurely kisses like they had all the time in the world to spend next to the lake. He liked the warmth and security of Spencer’s arms as they held him, his hand rubbing lightly up and down Aaron’s back. It was soothing, and loving, and just… sweet. He bumped against the table, and Spencer’s hardening cock pressed into his hip through their jeans. Fear rose up in Aaron’s throat, and he pushed it down. They were outside in thirty-degree weather. Spencer wouldn’t want to fuck in the snow. The thought persisted as the kissing grew more intimate. He put his hands on Spencer’s chest and pushed back a little.
“Sorry.,” Spencer said immediately and tried to discreetly adjust his erection in his jeans. Aaron watched, his own physical reactions still masked by fear and doubt. Though he’d talked about it, somewhat awkwardly, with Dr. Thomas, Aaron had no idea if he would ever be able to have a sexual relationship with Spencer. While he’d been able to jack off a couple times without completely freaking out, that was so much different than getting naked with someone, even someone he trusted, and opening himself up. Dr. Thomas said it would happen, that he’d be able to open up to someone he trusted eventually, but not to force it, and celebrate the small steps he took in his life.
“Don’t be sorry. I just wanted to ask you something.” Aaron looked over Spencer’s shoulder toward the lake, not sure how he wanted to word his question. He didn’t want it to come out sounding like an accusation, because he couldn’t blame Spencer if the answer was yes, but it hurt to think about anyway.
“Ask. Me. Anything.,” Spencer replied, and stopped putting on his skate to give Aaron his full attention. Something in Aaron’s face must have told Spencer the conversation would be important.
“Do you remember when you sent me that message over chat by accident, the sex one?” he asked and turned his gaze awa
y from the lake and back to Spencer. A frown crossed Spencer’s face, but he nodded.
“I. Remember..”
“Do you still do that?” Aaron asked before he could lose his nerve. He didn’t know why the question was so important to him. If Spencer wanted to talk to other guys to get his rocks off because Aaron couldn’t do that for him, he should be able to. Being upset or jealous felt so fucking selfish to Aaron, and he didn’t want to be selfish. He wanted to be giving and loving like he thought a good boyfriend should be, but it hurt. It underscored all Aaron’s inadequacies.
“No.. I. Have. Not. Talked. To. Anyone. Like. That. Since. You. Kissed. Me.. It. Felt. Like. A. Betrayal. To. You. And. To. Them.. You. Are. The. One. I. Want. To. Be. With. Like. That..” Spencer reached out and touched Aaron’s face, stroking Aaron’s cold cheek with his warm fingers.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to… to… give you what you want,” Aaron finished. He couldn’t even say it. If he couldn’t say it, how could he ever get up the balls to do it? Frustration filled him, and he wanted to tell Spencer he should find someone else, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the thought of not being with Spencer.
“I. Told. You. Before., Aaron., All. I. Want. Is. You..”
Aaron thought about the sign he’d looked up on the Internet. It scared him to think about sharing it with Spencer, but the feeling had been bursting inside him for a while, wanting to come out. It’s almost like if he didn’t say it, something in him would break.
“I’ve been looking up signs on the Internet to go along with the ones you’re teaching me, and there’s one I wanted to show you.” Aaron took off his gloves so he could make sure the meaning came across. His face, already a little flushed from the cold, heated at the thought of what he was about to do. Spencer looked puzzled, as if he couldn’t understand what Aaron would sign that would make him blush like that.
