51. Jay
Chapter fifty-one
Jay
J ay’s adrenaline pumped all the way up the stairs, his body wired and alert like at an intersection, only instead of lights and turning cars and surprise pedestrians, he kept watch for shifting weight and wobbly steps and gasping breath. If Mom started to topple, he’d catch her before she could lose her balance. And set her down gently, not keep her upright, so her blood wouldn’t hang out in her legs and not be able to climb back up to her heart and lungs and head.
On the way up in the car, Alice had read him stuff from articles on her phone about heart failure. They didn’t know anything about Mom’s symptoms or stages, and Henry hadn’t had time yet to tell them the details. But Mom seemed good, not bedridden. She’d taken a couple of catnaps during the decorating, just fifteen minutes or so. And she stopped at the top of the stairs and asked to sit down in the new chair against the wall there. Not new-new, but new in that spot, so she and Henry must’ve put it there for her to rest on.
He knelt beside her while she puffed and held tight to his arm.
“I sound like that too, on the steep hills. It’s okay to need a minute to recover.” Henry had been right about not making her trek out to the tree rows. “It’s smart to listen to what your body wants.”
Moving her to their house wouldn’t be great for her. All the stairs would be hard, and they didn’t have a skinny one-person elevator like some fancy houses. Alice had said in the car that they might need to think about those options to get Henry home with them sooner. She’d warned him that these would be big talks with a capital B. Maybe even some uncomfortable arguing.
He’d tried hard today to make openings. Breakfast had been weird, like Henry had forgotten he could hand work off to them. Entertaining Mom and Lina wasn’t tough at all, but getting Henry and Alice to take the hint and go talk was impossible. But Henry was back to his usual self now, and tonight they could finally reconnect.
“Thank you, Jay.” Mom’s breathing retreated to regular ins and outs. “You’re very patient. Your quiet stillness is delightfully calming. Henry and Alice must appreciate that.”
His quiet stillness? Jay, the jester of movement and mayhem. “Not sure I’ve ever been accused of being the quiet one before.”
She tapped his arm lightly, and he extended it like a grab bar the way Lina had done whenever Mom needed to get up. She pressed down, practically lighter than a sack of groceries. “Comfortable in your skin, then. Watching you dress the tree was like being at the ballet. You’re graceful when you move, Jay. Compact. Powerful.”
The reward center in his brain rang the happy bells. Aside from Henry and Alice, people didn’t say stuff like that about him. Or—hmm. Maybe Will and Emma lately, too. He should jot that down to talk with Danny about. Did people not compliment him, or did he just not hear them when they did? Or maybe he’d been giving off vibes that warned people not to even try.
“Thank you. I’m not—people don’t—” Working on accepting instead of throwing away compliments was on his list. He didn’t have to explain or downplay anything. “Thank you.”
Threading her arm through his, Mom stepped forward, and he shifted to match her. “I’m only sorry Henry didn’t sit down more often to simply enjoy it. He and Alice both seem a tad high-strung today.”
Three steps, four, and he lowered his voice in case it carried down to the entryway. “Is that why you asked me to help you upstairs? So they could get unstrung?”
Her smile was a whole sentence.
“You gotta teach me how you do that. At home I volunteer for tasks”—which he would carefully not mention was a favorite activity—“and give them time to do the talking thing that way. But today I would’ve had to shove them both in a room and not let them out.”
Not for lack of trying on Alice’s part. She’d approached Henry more than once, and every time instead of wandering off somewhere together, they’d veered off on their own paths. She might’ve gotten cold feet about owning up to visiting her folks.
Mom’s giggle came from the back of her throat, muffled behind closed lips. “I confess, I hadn’t thought to try that approach. Perhaps tomorrow, if she hasn’t pried him open yet.”
Alice was right; Henry needed more help than he was saying. Even his mom could see it, and Henry almost never showed things on the surface. He’d been missing their support as much as they’d been missing his structure. Like Danny said, Jay could reach out first. He could get the momentum rolling to help them all catch up to each other on the right track.
Mom’s bedroom door stood open a crack; he pushed it wide. The furniture had been rearranged. A big cozy chair sat beside the bed, a blanket folded over the arm. A flutter tickled his stomach. “Is that where Henry sleeps?”
No momentum would go anywhere if Henry left them alone again. They needed time together, just them, so Henry could remember he was more than doctor’s appointments and nursing care.
“Not tonight, it isn’t.” Mom leaned into his shoulder and rubbed his arm, sighing slowly. “Will you bring that nightgown”—she nodded with her chin toward the end of the bed—“into the bathroom and set it on the counter for me? If you’ll wait by the door, that would be most helpful. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
He detoured to grab her pj’s and returned to escort her into the bathroom. Her things were lined up neatly by the sink; he set the nightgown at the end of the line. The soft rug in front of the cabinet was gone.
“Tripping hazard,” she answered his question. “Henry has stashed it in the linen closet until he has the chance to properly secure it. He has an exacting list from a packet the cardiac unit gave him about elder care.”
Her eyes didn’t roll, but her voice sure sounded like they should. She studied him, making magic with a single twist in her hair, pulling out a fastener and letting silver like the tree garlands fall around her face. “Sometimes fear lurches us toward attempts at control that are destined to fail, because so much of life is uncontrollable. All we can do is help one another navigate the unpredictable.”
That was what he’d been doing back in September. Fearful and lurching into telling his family about Henry and Alice, not knowing how much he wanted control over his identity, over how folks saw him and treated him.
“Darling?”
“Sorry, right, I should—” He thumbed toward the open door and backed out, pulling the door with him. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”
Leaning against the wall, he waited, ears open. Water running, tooth brushing, normal bed stuff. No thunks or thuds or cries for help. Past the bed, the living room part of the bedroom had just one lonely chair by its coffee table. The other one had been dragged up by the far nightstand. The nearer nightstand held a mix of pill bottles and art supplies that spilled over on some gadget. The bed was neatly made the way he did theirs at home, with the comforter tucked under the edge of the pillows in a neat line and flipped over the top. He hustled over and turned down a triangle of sheets so Mom could get into bed easier, and hustled back so he wouldn’t miss if she needed him.
But she emerged on her own, in her ankle-length nightgown with her sleeves at the elbow, and let him escort her to the bedside. Smelling of flowers, she hugged him with cozy strength. “Thank you for your help tonight, Jay, and for your joy all day long. You lifted my spirits immensely.”
I didn’t do much sat on the tip of his tongue, but he pushed it aside for the second answer that came to him. “I had a lot of fun today, Mom. I’m glad we’re all together for the holiday.”
“As am I.” With a pat for his back, she let go and sat on the edge of the bed.
He raised the sheets while she swung her legs up and in, and he tucked her in with the care he used to give his nieces and nephews. “Do you want me to refill your water?”
“That would be lovely, thank you. The pitcher is just on the dresser there.”
He got her a fresh glass and moved the old one to the tray; it could go to the kitchen in the morning. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, I have my book and my sketchpad to entertain me until I fall asleep. You go spend time with those spouses of yours. See if you can get Henry to settle, would you? He may listen more to you and Alice than to his mother right now. Here.” She waved him closer and planted three kisses on his cheek. “One for each of you. I am so very pleased to have you as my bonus son, Jay. Your sweet optimism is a model Henry needs.”
Him, a role model for Henry? Mom had all sorts of surprising opinions. He stood tall, his chest maybe puffier than before. She was counting on him to help Henry sleep tonight. “Goodnight, Mom. We’ll see you in the morning.”
She said goodnight as he turned off the overhead light, leaving just the bedside lamp. He shut the door behind him. The downstairs was dark as he crossed the main hall; only the little lights on the wall led him past the whole length of the house to Henry’s bedroom at the other corner. The door was shut.
Ear to the wood, he listened for a few seconds. No voices. He stepped inside.
Alice swiveled, shirts clutched in her hands. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s Mother? Henry’s in the shower. I’m hanging up our clothes for the week. Wanna help?”
“She’s good.” He joined in, trailing Alice with an armful of clothes. “Reading before bed.”
“Perfect. She’s so much better off than I thought she’d be. That should help Henry be less worried; she’s obviously making great progress.” Alice kept her voice to a whisper, so he stayed close while she hung the stuff he held out. “I’m thinking relaxation first and talk second. I wish I’d been able to get him to talk earlier so we could just be together tonight, but he’s so tense and focused.”
He wasn’t gonna say it, but Alice was pretty tense and focused herself, slinging pants over hangers and draping them in straight lines like Henry was gonna check them with a ruler.
She swiped the last pair from his hands and prodded his chest with her finger. “We need to work those levers and shift his brain into a different gear.”
“Good thing I’m an expert lever-worker.” He couldn’t even keep a straight face for two seconds. “Nice bike metaphor.”
She scrunched her nose like a bunny at his laughter. “I do try to speak your language with more than my body.” Dropping a kiss on his chin, she nuzzled up his jaw to his ear. “But if we get those good brain chemicals flowing, I think we’ll have an easier time remembering we love each other while we talk about difficult stuff.”
“Like how to help Mom long term?” If they couldn’t move her in with them, maybe Henry could spend the middle of the week with her and long weekends at home. He kissed Alice’s cheek, quick and sweet. “That’s from her. She says we gotta keep Henry from sleeping in a chair again tonight.”
“She’s right.” Alice fussed with the final pair of pants more than the rest, plucking invisible fuzzies off them until he took her hand and squeezed it. She heaved a shoulder-dropping sigh. “I think we should go with our original game plan from last night. He’s been on his own for two weeks, acting like a home-care worker round the clock. He’ll have been missing us, and I know how much he enjoyed that call with you when you opened your gifts.”
She’d told him in the car Henry called their long-distance scene delightful in a text to her the next morning. If Henry had been there in the playroom with him, maybe Jay would’ve crawled to him. Gotten cuffed and collared. Had his leash tight in Henry’s fist and Henry’s cock in his throat. His body ached for Henry’s familiar touch, for the hand at the back of his neck gripping his hair and guiding his head as he took all he could hold. For the rumbling praise and pride in him. He’d been Henry’s best boy before anything else, the first time in his whole life he felt right and good.
“You want me to start?” Momentum. He could do that. Once he got the least bit bossy, Henry would take over.
“I’ll help with that, but you’re the big guns, stud.”
She did not, sadly, grip his groin and check out the big gun, which was starting to pay attention.
“We don’t need to go crazy with complicated games.” She took his other hand in hers and swayed closer, breathing softly against his neck. “Just remind him that we’re here for him, show him how we can take care of the stress and the weariness and the insomnia.”
The day had started off rough and gotten better and better. Relaxing Henry would be the ice cream bowl before bed. But Alice still had a checklist of Important Talk to cover. “He might fall asleep after.”
“That would be amazing, like ten out of ten.” Tilting back, she raised her face and gazed at him with big eyes, Christmas morning pouring out of speckled hazel wreaths. “If we need to wait until morning to talk because he lets go of enough stress to sleep through the night? Sweetheart, you can pick any room-check reward or Friday scene you want, and I will work to make it happen.”
His dick fully joined the conversation, thumping against his boxer-briefs. “The votes are in—”
Alice laid a gentle finger across his lips. “Hear that?”
The only sound in his ears was his heartbeat. “Hear what?”
“Exactly.” She worked her hands into his waistband and tugged out his henley. “The shower’s stopped.”
He folded forward, shivering with excitement but not cold as she pulled his shirt over his head. “Game time.”
“Go team,” Alice murmured, and kissed him deep, twining her arms around his neck.
He got all the best jobs.