Chapter 18 #2
Leslie gave one last warning look to his brothers and they scattered.
Then he led Joe toward his suite of rooms and opened the double doors.
There was a family room of sorts in the middle, a small kitchenette and half bath off to the right, bedroom off to the left with a full bathroom en suite including a jacuzzi tub.
Which sounded great right now, but not as great as Joe’s hands.
“Please forgive the mess, please forgive my brothers, and for the love of God, please forgive the fact that I live with my mom.”
Joe burst out laughing and then covered his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. Wait, you’re serious about that?”
Les rolled his eyes and stepped away from Joe. “Have a seat, I’m going to…um, I’ll be right back.”
“Is there a bathroom?”
“Yeah, there’s one around here or in my bedroom.”
They stared at each other for a minute and Joe pressed his lips together, fighting off a smile. “You look like you’re about to drop. The only thing that’s happening in your bedroom is me tucking you in tonight, got it?”
Leslie’s cheeks heated—he was an open book for Joe. “Right.”
Joe walked around the kitchenette to the half bathroom and shut the door.
Leslie hurried to the cabinet where he kept his nighttime pill box, and started popping pills as fast as he could get them down.
He guzzled three quarters of a bottle of water trying to get through them all and was just closing the lid when Joe came out.
Leslie tried shove the pill box into a drawer but it kept catching.
He smiled and tried to look innocent, but Joe raised an eyebrow.
“You really keep your trophies in the bathroom?”
Leslie barked out a laugh, left the drawer open and turned off the light in the kitchen on his way around the counter.
“Seemed appropriate. Look, Joe, I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here. I can get Sandy to drive you back.”
Joe held up Leslie’s keys. “I can get back when I’m ready. I came here to take care of you. Now where would you like your Joe Judd Migraine Special?”
Oh, yes, please. “Um, here? I guess?”
Leslie led Joe over to the overstuffed leather sectional and they sat next to each other. Joe turned his body, kicked his shoes off, and tucked a leg up under him.
“What do I need to do?”
“May I touch you?” Joe asked, his voice low.
Leslie whimpered and then cleared his throat.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice raspy. He rubbed his sweaty hands on his black khakis.
He’d decided on the black khakis, white polo shirts with the blue and gold Jackets logo for the coaching staff and Sandy had outfitted them all.
He preferred a uniform to having to pick out dress shirts and ties, but he loved his band tees and denim or Carhartt work clothes around the house.
Right now, he just hoped Joe couldn’t see the telltale signs he was nervous.
Joe waited for him to settle and then held out his hand. “Give me your right hand; we’ll start there.”
Leslie rubbed his pants again, hoping his hands weren’t as clammy as they felt.
Joe simply smiled and began moving his joints around gently, bending his fingers, feeling around the major knuckles and minor connections between bones.
“Relax and let me do the work, okay?”
“What are you… ow . ”
Joe pressed his thumb into the space between Leslie’s index finger and thumb, up against the bone.
“Acupressure. You ever try it?”
Leslie shook his head and sucked in a breath.
“I refuse to take pain medication,” Joe said, his eyes trained on Leslie’s hand.
“My doctor sent me to a holistic center and I learned all about pressure points. There are several places in the hands and feet that can help mitigate the effects of a migraine. Let me work on these and I want you to close your eyes for me, okay?”
Leslie complied. He didn’t care what Joe was doing, acupressure, witchcraft, satanic rituals, as long as he kept touching him. His hands were soft and nimble. And strong. They weren’t as big as Leslie’s, but he had enough strength to really apply pressure.
“Have you ever done guided imagery?”
Leslie shook his head and let it fall back against the couch. “Like meditation? I tried but it felt silly.”
“I get that. But I think it does help to find your special place to go to when you’re in pain. A place with no pain. Want to try?”
“I’ll try anything you say, Joe, just don’t stop touching me.”
Joe chuckled. “Okay, then. All right, I want you to picture a blank movie screen in front of you. You’re sitting in the seats—”
“Holding your hand?”
Joe sighed. “Yes, dear. You’re holding my hand.
Your eyes are focused on the screen and you’re looking forward to the pictures appearing.
When they do, you see light followed by deep, intense green.
The green splits into leaves of all textures and shapes.
The leaves pull away to expose a private slice of sand leading to crystal blue water before you. ”
Leslie’s skin grew warmer and the pressure in his head dissipated as he literally felt the heat from the sun blanket his skin.
He sank further into the couch and moaned.
Joe had moved to his other hand and was making small circles with his thumbs in certain areas: his thumb, the pad between the index and middle finger, the palm of his hand…
He heard Joe’s voice continue, but in his mind, he was already on that beach.
Without knowing, Joe had taken him to his family’s Hawaiian getaway, his father’s first extravagant purchase after signing with the 49ers.
Leslie and Barry spent a lot of time there with their mother while Rick Payton got knocked around on a football field.
It was a place for them to escape and explore as boys, and then as they got older, it became a refuge when their mother needed space from their father’s tirades.
“You’re tensing up.”
“Mmm sorrr…” Leslie could barely make his mouth work to form words.
He was too far away, wishing that the two chairs in the sand with a large umbrella between them were occupied by him and Joe.
He wanted to see Joe there, splayed out on a towel on a lounge chair, his golden skin covered with fine dark hair.
Maybe he wore swim trunks, or if it was just them, maybe he was covered only by a sarong.
Maybe he’d pull it off and Leslie would chase him into the water where they would cling to each other in the surf and—
“Feeling better?”
“Mmmm?”
“Shhh. Don’t open your eyes all the way. I’ve turned the lights down. Let me guide you to your bed. I’ll have you lay down with your head at the foot of the bed so I can work on your neck.”
Leslie did as he was told, leaning on Joe while they moved through the dark.
His mind remained on that beach, in the sun, with the warm breeze caressing his skin.
His shoes were tugged off and he imagined digging them in the sand, remembering how he and Barry used to bury each other up to their necks, how much he loved having that weight on him from the cool, damp sand in the hot Hawaiian afternoons.
Hawaii was definitely a place of memories…
“Why didn’t you come meet me in Hawaii, Joe?”
The beach faded to the dark room as he opened his eyes and the support of the sand on his neck changed to two points of pressure under the base of his skull—Joe’s thumbs.
“Where did that come from?” Joe had paused his movements but now he began his thumb circles again, this time with a little less fluidity.
“My happy place is there, well, the place I went was my place in Hawaii. I wanted you to meet me there, but you said you had to go back to LA. You never told me why?”
Joe was quiet for a long time and the pressure began to be a bit much for Leslie. One thumb circle hit a particularly sore spot and Leslie winced, sucking in a breath.
“I’m sorry, babe. Here. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, slowly and deeply.” Joe began applying gentle pressure strokes over the top of Leslie’s skull, somehow magically finding all of the tender spots and lovingly easing them.
“That feels so good.”
“I was afraid to come meet you. No, keep your eyes closed. No, I can’t talk to you about this if they’re open, you’re too close.”
Leslie placed his hands over Joe’s to still them. “I’m sorry. It’s okay, whatever it was. I just always wondered.”
Joe exhaled and sat back on his haunches. “I was afraid, Les. I knew if I came to you, I wouldn’t want to leave.”
Les smiled up at him, but kept his eyes closed. “Would that have been so terrible?”
“No, it would have been amazing. But Les, I wasn’t ready. I knew if I went to Hawaii, spent time with you, it would be great…but it also would have been the end of my dance career. I wasn’t ready for that.”
“But I would have supported whatever you wanted to do. You know that. I just thought…well, I was ready. It’s okay that you weren’t—if you’re not. I just wondered if it was something I said or did, if it was someone else.”
“Well, it was Lady Gaga, Les. Come on. Do you blame me for running off to join her tour? That’s what excuse I used to go back to LA. It was Lady G. I ‘had’ to go. That tour led to me doing the Superbowl gig with her, remember?”
Les shuddered. “Yeah. I remember it well.”
Joe sighed. “Really, though? I was afraid. I’m mostly not afraid anymore.”
Les held Joe’s hands still and he turned his face to kiss the inside of Joe’s left wrist, then the right one. “You’re here now. I’m so happy you’re here now.”
Joe leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I am here, and I’m not going anywhere, but I’m supposed to be helping you relax and go to sleep. ”
“Fine,” Leslie said, dropping his hands. “I still want to take you there. To Hawaii. I want to show you my secret hideaway.”
“I’d love to see your secret hideaway. Now go back there in your mind. You were almost rid of this tension.”
“Thank you,” Leslie sighed. “Thank you for taking care of me. Everything is better with you here.”
Joe snorted. “You say that now…”
But he kept up the pressure and Leslie went back to the beach and frolicked in the waves with naked Joe and they kissed and touched each other until a really loud buzzing sound—
“What the?”
Leslie sat upright and found his five o’clock alarm going off. He was so confused. He was still in his clothes and socks, but he was laying on top of the duvet with a throw blanket tangled in his legs and…
Oh, Joe.
Joe had been there. He’d been helping Leslie manage his migraine, which was totally gone. He’d even placed a pillow underneath Leslie’s head and covered him with a blanket. There was a note on his bedside table.
You are so peaceful when you sleep. So handsome. I hope the Joe Judd Migraine Special helped.
I’ll see you later today. You’ll have to come get your monster truck keys from me at some point.
Always,
Joe
Leslie beamed through his workout and shower, grinned through his morning meds, smiled as he cheerfully greeted Agnes for breakfast, and even laughed at his brother’s antics .
“What crawled up your ass and made you happy this morning? Wait…don’t tell me—”
“Randall Lee Payton, you watch your mouth.” Agnes lightly smacked Randy upside the head. Then she laughed when he found egg in his hair and stomped back upstairs to clean up again.
“You seem much better than you have most mornings lately. You have a good time last night?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“You’re just as bad as him. Joe drove me home, did an acupressure treatment for my migraine, and then he tucked me into bed. That’s it, you pervs.”
Sandy chuckled over his coffee and morning spreadsheets. “I didn’t say a word. I wish you would have told me you weren’t feeling well before we took off last night. It’s a good thing Joe was there. I think from now on one of us should drive you home at night—”
“Oh, come on. Let me enjoy a morning of wellness before you start mothering me.” He saw the look of hurt on Sandy’s face and went right to his side.
“Hey, thank you, Brother Sandy. I appreciate everything you do for me, but I don’t want to be a burden on you guys.
I hate that, you know? It was bad enough Joe had to see me like that. ”
“He knows, though, right?” Agnes had lost her teasing smile and was dead serious. “About the TBI? You told him, didn’t you?”
Leslie’s smile deflated. “He knows I have migraines. That’s as much as I’ve told him.”
Agnes tapped a long manicured finger against her spatula several times and stared.
“What? If things get worse or we get more serious, I’ll tell him. I promise.” His eyes burned and his chest squeezed. “I just want a little more time.” Time to make Joe fall in love with me and stay, time to get this under control, time to live my life before I’m not me anymore.
“Just be fair to him,” she said, looking down at her scrambled eggs. “Most likely, he’s not going to care. If he knows what’s good for him, it won’t matter. Just be fair.” She set down the spatula and walked out of the kitchen.
“Fuuuuuuu,” Leslie said, leaning against the counter.
“What’d I miss?” Randy said, coming back in the kitchen tucking in his Jackets coaching polo. “I’m not sure white was the best color, dude. I better stock up on stain remover.”
“You ready for today?” Sandy asked Les, his gaze unsure.
“Yeah. I’m ready. I feel good. Steady. No funky lights or auras, not even a stiff neck. I feel really good. Let’s go start our semester, huh? Go Jackets!”
“Go Jackets!” his brothers shouted. They all high-fived and Randy caught the end of the spatula, flipping it up until it splatted against his chest.
“Dammit! That was my last white one! I’m not going to be matching you guys.” He pouted as he pulled it off over his head.
“Fine, grab one of mine,” Sandy said. “But you better throw all of the dirty ones in the wash before we go.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Randy said, stomping out of the kitchen.
“You’re really okay?” Sandy asked. “Joe stayed a long time. I saw him leave around one. He was smiling.”
Leslie’s grin was back. “Victory is within my grasp.”
Sandy looked him up and down. “Your shoelace is untied.”
“Huh?”
Leslie looked down at his bare feet.
Sandy shrugged. “Made you look.”