by Ana Ashley
The guy whispered something in Isaac’s ear, which he seemed to agree to because he got up from the table.
“Isaac.” My face must have shown my confusion.
He stopped for a second before he looked at me with regret and said, “I’ve got to go.”
And with that, I was left once again staring at his back as he walked away from me.
17
Isaac
Lisbon – September
Normally the sound of waves crashing onto the beach was enough to get me running toward the cool waters of the Atlantic with my surfboard.
My brother Alex always said in a previous life I must have been a fish because whenever I wasn’t at work or with him, they could always find me at one of the many beaches on the Estoril Coast a few miles north of Lisbon.
I wasn’t so sure about that since I felt equally at ease in the city among the tall buildings and the people that always rushed like they needed to get to their destination yesterday.
Today, however, I found myself on the beach, but after getting there, I wasn’t feeling it. I’d got up early enough to catch the sun rising, grabbed my wetsuit and surfboard, and driven to one of my favorite beaches.
I’d had every intention of spending the best part of the morning on the water and then maybe stopping by Alex’s and catching my weekly fix of my niece Sofia’s cuddles.
In reality, as soon as I looked at the ocean, I didn’t feel like going in even though the waves were particularly inviting today.
I’d learned from experience to rely on my instincts, so instead, I sat on the sand, staring at the glittering reflection of the rising sun on the water.
Maybe I’d go for a swim later. It wasn’t as hot now as it had been early in the summer when this had been the best time to surf before it got too warm. Now, the mid-September breeze was expected and welcome.
The only problem with sitting on the sand was that my brain, as usual, refused to be quiet.
It was hard to not work all the time when running an LGBTQ youth center. After all, how could I sit back and relax when I knew there were too many young LGBTQ guys and girls that were suffering at the hands of others or were homeless?
Alex liked to remind me I wasn’t a superhero and couldn’t save everybody. What I did was important, but I was also a human being and needed to look after myself. But work was my refuge.
Fundação Arco-Iris was my entire world. I’d built it from the ground up with the help of my friend Tiago I’d met at university.
I’d been the gay kid kicked out of home by his homophobic parents, and had had something to prove to myself and to the world. Today, as the sun was warm on my face, despite the slight breeze, there was only one thing on my mind. Well, someone. Max.
I’d been hopeful about us keeping in touch after the time we’d spent together last Christmas in New York, even though I’d had no clue how a transatlantic relationship would work out.
Relationships weren’t really something I did well. Every time I met someone, it always ended with them breaking things off because I was always busy. There had been no one yet that understood my commitment to the center and the young people I worked so hard to help.
Something had told me Max was different from the other guys, which made not hearing from him much harder.
I wondered if I’d imagined the time we’d spent walking the streets of Manhattan, ice skating, going up the Empire State Building, and especially the time we’d spent in my hotel room.
A drunken night out with my best friend David on Valentine’s Day and a failed hookup with a stranger before I’d changed my mind and called it off before meeting up had been enough to make me swallow my pride and use the email address Max had given me. Just because he hadn’t made contact didn’t mean I couldn’t, right?
Once I’d sobered up and realized what I’d done, I was too embarrassed to even look at my email inbox.
A week later, I was spared the embarrassment when I’d checked my emails and realized the email I’d sent Max had bounced back. Email address not recognized.
I’d wondered if in my drunken state I’d misspelled the address. It wasn’t the case. Since Max had spelled it out so I could type it on my phone, this could only mean he gave me a fake address.
Some part of me, maybe the part that couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when we’d lain in bed together, didn’t want to believe he could do such a thing.
A fake email address didn’t seem like something he’d do, but then again, I still had the evidence sitting in my inbox. I hadn’t had the guts to delete it. Maybe I’d needed the reminder of his rejection so I could move on and stop thinking about him.
Except I hadn’t moved on, and then I ran into him earlier in the summer, in Lisbon of all places.
When I first saw him that night, I’d thought my eyes were playing a trick on me. Then he’d hugged me, and it had felt so right my brain had struggled to function.
His smell had been intoxicating and his arms so strong, so solid around me. It had felt like my heart had spent the last six months fragmenting and all it had taken was one hug from Max for the pieces to drift toward each other again.
That was until he’d opened his mouth.
The feeling of rejection had come back with a vengeance, along with hurt and anger. I must have been a sucker for punishment because when Max had asked to talk, I’d let him.
I don’t think I could have refused him any request no matter how much I tried to convince myself of the contrary.
Before we’d had a chance to speak properly, Fred, a friend and local police detective, had interrupted us.
Fred’s presence had reminded me of the reason I’d agreed to go out that night after David had asked if I’d wanted to go dancing with him and Joel.
I needed to focus on what was more important.
We’d need to talk properly. I’d heard part of his story and sensed there was more he hadn’t said.
I’d been conflicted but my sense of duty and care had won out in the end. I’d had to go. I’d also realized that I’d be able to get his contact details from David and Joel so I could park that conversation for another time.
Three months later and I still hadn’t done it. What a coward I was turning out to be.
“Those waves won’t ride themselves, you know?”
I looked up to see Fred standing next to me, his surfboard under his arm.
“How would you know, Detective?” I said. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you riding one.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I keep offering, but you keep turning me down,” he said, sitting down next to me.
Fred had been clear about his attraction to me from the moment we’d met.
I knew he wanted to take me out and see if our relationship could go beyond our common interests, but Max was holding me back.
Even after all these months, I still couldn’t bear the thought of being with another man after him.
Besides, Fred reminded me too much of Max: same blond hair, same desire to save and protect people—except I didn’t feel like the same chemistry.
“Man, you’re all spaced out. What’s going on?”
“What? Nothing, I’m fine. Just not in the mood to surf today.”
He looked me up and down and raised a brow.
“You’re never not in the mood to surf. Talk to Uncle Fred.” He bumped his shoulder against mine.
Could I let some of what was going through my head out? Maybe it would help talking it through.
“Where do I start?” I sighed and filled him in.
“Isaac, that’s… wait, in June? In Lisbon?”
“Yes, that night you got the lead on the missing kid.”
“Fuck, are you talking about the cute guy from the club?”
“Yeah, he’s the one.”
“Wow, and you have feelings for him?”
“I do, or at least I’d love the chance to explore them, but not only is this all messed up because of the no contact thi
ng before and then the club thing, he lives in New York and I live here. It’s also weird that our best friends are together.”
“Why is that weird?”
“Don’t know. Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m just finding excuses because now that I know how to get his real contact details, I’m afraid to do it.”
“Surely he also knows how to get your details, no?”
“He does, but I was the one who walked out on our last conversation. What if I reach out and he wants nothing to do with me?”
Fred put his hand on my shoulder. “Maybe I should confess something, too.”
“Confess what?”
His face went red.
“That night at the club. I knew we needed to be quick or we’d risk losing the kid again.”
“Yes…” What was he getting at? What did this have to do with Max?
“I was kind of jealous when I saw you with that guy. You were so focused on him like the club could have caught fire and you wouldn’t have noticed.
“I made it look like… maybe you and I were together. I saw the light in his eyes disappear. You were so focused on the missing kid you didn’t even notice, and I was just glad I had a genuine excuse to get you away from him.”
“Fuck, Fred. Seriously?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Jesus.” I rubbed my hands over my face. I didn’t want to be mad at Fred because the outcome would have been the same. I would have looked out for the kid every time. “Frederico Mendes, you owe me big time for that stunt.”
“You name it.”
18
Max
New York
“You look like shit.”
I chuckled. “Thanks, I love it when you shower me with compliments.”
Jacki was the new head nurse and fast becoming a good friend.
“I mean it, Max, when was the last time you went home?”
“Eight hours ago.” I rubbed my eyes and scratched my growing stubble, knowing my answer wouldn’t placate her. Going home for a shower after doing a double shift and coming right back to the hospital didn’t count as going home in Jacki’s eyes.
“Max,” Shelly, one of the other nurses, called out from a consultation room.
“Coming right up, Shell.”
Jacki put her hand on my arm. “Max, you’re a brilliant nurse, but you’re close to burning out. Take a day off before I make you.”
I nodded and then gave her a quick hug before walking toward Shelly.
One of my favorite things about this hospital had been working with Joel’s mom, Sílvia. When she’d died, I’d thought I wouldn’t be able to work here again, and I hadn’t been able to get through a whole shift without breaking into tears for a while.
Sílvia had been more than a friend or a mother figure. At work, she’d been my mentor, and without her here, I’d started doubting myself all the time.
When Jacki had arrived at the hospital, it was like a new version of Sílvia had joined the team. They had different ways of working, but their approach with the nurses was very similar. Jacki was firm but fair and made sure we were always fighting fit.
She was right; I needed a day off. If nothing else, I was dangerously close to running out of clean underwear.
I’d help Shelly out with this patient and then I’d go home.
Shelly met me halfway to the room, which meant whatever she wanted to say, she didn’t want the patient hearing. The curtain was closed all the way around the bed but it wasn’t soundproof.
“What’s up, Shell?”
“We have a kid in there, looks to be around sixteen or seventeen. He came in with hypoglycemia. He was shaking and dizzy at work. Apparently, his boss knows he’s a diabetic and gave him some orange juice, but it had no effect, so they called the emergency services.”
“How is he now?”
“He’s stable, but…”
“But?”
“He’s not talking to anyone. Earlier, I thought I caught a few words when he was on his cell phone. They were definitely not Spanish, so I’m wondering if he’s Portuguese or Brazilian. I thought maybe you could try talking to him.”
I loved the chance to speak Portuguese.
When I’d hung out with Joel at his place after school, I’d had to learn. Sílvia had had this rule that Portuguese was spoken at home and made no allowances for me, which now I really appreciated. Despite my accent, I was comfortable speaking Portuguese at a native level.
I asked Shelly to give me a few minutes alone with the kid and walked to the room, pushing the curtain aside to go in.
Shelly was right, the kid couldn’t have been over seventeen. His thick, dark-brown hair almost covered his assessing brown eyes that looked at me with clear distrust.
“Olá, o meu nome é Max e eu sou enfermeiro neste hospital.” I said my name and that I was a nurse at the hospital.
His eyes went wide. So he understood Portuguese. One point for Max.
“Can you tell me your name?” I asked, now in English.
“Diogo.”
“Diogo, do you know why you’re here?”
He nodded.
“Has this happened to you before?”
Another nod.
“The last time Mom got…”
He looked away as a tear ran down his cheek before he wiped it clear too quickly.
“I lost someone who was like a mom to me at Christmas. It hurts a lot. Is that what happened to you?”
He covered his face with his hands, small sobs escaping him. I pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down.
“I’m eighteen, I can look after myself,” he said with defiance, although he didn’t look like he was convinced of that.
“I have no doubt of that, Diogo. How about we have a chat and hot chocolate? I’ve been here since yesterday and could do with a treat.” I got a small smile. Two points for Max.
I found Shelly at the nurses’ station, updating her patient notes.
“Hey, Shell, you know the kid in C2?”
“Did you get any information out of him? We need to call someone.”
“Sounds like he lost his mom, possibly quite recently, and I’m not sure he has any family. Before we call Social Services, can I do some digging? I have a gut feeling this kid has already been on his own a little while. I just want to make sure he gets the right kind of help.”
“Max,” Shelly warned, “you can’t save all the kids that come through the door.”
I ran my hands through my hair, reminding me I’d recently got rid of my longer locks in favor of a low-maintenance, shorter style. I sighed. “I’m not trying to save him. I think calling Social Services may not be the right thing this time. Besides, he says he’s eighteen. If he’s telling the truth, we can’t do anything he doesn’t want.”
“First of all, you owe me one. Second, if you call Jean-Paul to help the kid you have to make sure I’m on shift so I can get my fix of his sexy French accent.”
“Deal.” I smiled and stretched over the desk to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“And if you want to keep your nuts attached, please tell Jacki.”
“Love you, Shell,” I sang as I walked toward the cafeteria to grab two hot chocolates.
A renewed rush of energy ran through me. Nothing gave me more pleasure than supporting my friends’ work with the center and getting involved with helping kids in need. If I was honest with myself, I liked it even more than being a nurse.
Diogo’s eyes lit up at the sight of the hot chocolate.
“Sorry, buddy, I asked them to go easy on the chocolate because we’re still monitoring your sugar levels, but it should be nice enough.”
He blew the steam off the hot drink and took a small sip.
“It’s nice, thank you. Are you going to call Social Services?”
“Diogo, I have friends that can help you. Since you say you’re eighteen, we won’t call Social Services, but I’d like you to speak to my friend Jean-Paul. Why don’t you have a rest today and we can t
alk again tomorrow. We’re keeping you in for observation, anyway. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”
“Thank you, Max.”
“Be nice to the nurses and they’ll bring you more hot chocolate tonight,” I said before heading out.
There was no way I’d have a day off tomorrow. The thought pleased me more than it should.
Using work as a way to stop thinking about Isaac wasn’t healthy, and Jacki was right, I was close to burning out, and I knew at some point I would have to get used to spending time with myself outside of work. Today, however, wasn’t the day things would change, but I could still do something for myself, I thought as I walked past my usual subway station toward Joel’s apartment.
“Sorry to interrupt your sexy times, but I’m in need of pastries,” I said into the intercom. I heard a huff before they buzzed me in.
David opened the door, looking like he’d been in the middle of a good and thorough make-out session. His hair was sticking out at all angles and his lips were swollen from kissing.
“Dude, at least make sure you do up your fly before you open the door.” I grinned as I walked past him. He scrambled to check his jeans.
“It is done up,” he grumbled.
“Yup, but now I know what you were up to a minute ago.”
“Stop teasing my boyfriend or there’ll be no more pastries for you,” Joel said from the kitchen where he was filling three cups with freshly brewed coffee.
I still couldn’t believe how happy my best friend was these days. Love suited him, or maybe it was who he was in love with.
“David, what have you got for me today?”
Since they’d come to New York, I’d got into the habit of dropping by with the excuse of having some of David’s amazing bakes.
“We’re going to Jojo’s house for the weekend at the end of the month. Join us?” Joel asked, knowing I loved to visit his late grandmother’s house in the Hamptons.
“Not sure I can. I’ll have to check my shifts.”
Joel gave me a knowing look.
“Maximus, it wasn’t a question.”
