Chapter Five #2
I followed Patsy around, picking up my scattered belongings and dumping them in the box he held.
The photo albums were the greatest loss.
Someone had run over them, ruining my parents’ wedding photo and others my mother had methodically glued into the books as I grew up.
I wondered what had gone through the driver’s head when he ran over the photo albums like that.
He probably considered my things just more detritus along with the rest of the trash staining certain neighborhoods of Hollywood; I felt sick all over again.
Underneath my suits, I spotted my mother’s small Catholic Bible and picked it up, brushing grime off the battered leather cover.
In her last days, how many times had I read to her from this book she loved.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I carefully tucked it away in one of the boxes.
It was a dear keepsake my father had given her on their wedding day.
I was just grateful the thieves had deemed it as having no value, and left it behind.
It didn’t take more than five minutes to gather all my things from the street, packing them away in the few cardboard boxes which I’d left in the car.
I’d somehow come back in the morning to hunt for anything I couldn’t see in the dark.
Perhaps I’d find my mother’s crucifix discarded like trash.
It was the one thing from her jewelry box that was worth anything, and then only to me.
The balance of her jewelry was costume…all but her wedding ring which I always kept tucked into my wallet.
Even the crucifix was made from only glass beads and stainless steel, not worth much to thieves.
“Is that all of it then?” Patsy asked.
I thought for a few seconds and then remembered I’d tucked my driver’s license and employment paperwork in the glove compartment.
“Hang on one more second, Patsy.” I ran around to the front passenger door and felt myself pale the moment I got it open and saw that someone had opened the glove box and spilled the contents onto the floor.
I picked up the employment paperwork consisting of some government forms which needed to be filled out but couldn’t find my driver’s license anywhere.
I began to panic as I rifled through the glove compartment and all over the floor and seats; it was nowhere to be found.
“What’re yer lookin’ for? Is somethin’ else missin’?”
I straightened and turned to Patsy as I felt his hand on my shoulder. “My driver’s license. I know it was here…with this paperwork,” I muttered, once again, bending down and searching the carpeted floor of the car.
“Why wasn’t yer license in yer wallet?”
I sighed deeply, straightening again as I turned to look at him.
“The last time I was at Caltech, I took it out because human resources wanted a copy of it. I remember rolling it up in the paperwork they gave me and shoving it in the glovebox. I meant to take it out, but I was so excited about the new job, I completely forgot about it. Do you remember me telling the gunman I didn’t have a wallet the night we were robbed? I hadn’t been lying, Patsy.”
He looked at the car seat where papers were strewn. “And yer sure it’s not there?”
I nodded, looking back at the car. “My wallet is missing too.”
“And yer money?”
I snorted. “I had less than twenty-five dollars in there.”
He nodded slowly, looking awkward. “Okay, Wes.” He patted my shoulder again. “Come on then, mate. Let’s go back to my place. I know yer starvin’ and ya look knackered. When was the last time ya took a pain pill?”
The truth was, I hadn’t. I hated taking anything that made my brain feel muddled. My job required me to function with a high level of intellect and I couldn’t make complicated numerical calculations when I couldn’t think straight.
“I haven’t had a pill since we picked them up from the hospital pharmacy,” I said, patting the bottle of pills in my pocket almost guiltily as we finished loading the rest of my things in Patsy’s car.
“I can’t believe it, Wes,” he grumbled. “All right. Come on then. You’ll be comin’ home with me.
” He waited until I’d dropped back into the passenger seat of the old VW bug before climbing behind the wheel.
“I only live about five minutes away, so we’ll get ya fixed up in a jiffy.
” He started the engine with a roar and then drove back out onto Santa Monica.
True to his word, Patsy’s apartment was just around the corner and down the block from the convenience store where we’d first met.
His first-floor unit was in a building close enough that Patsy could walk to it, even though the neighborhood wasn’t the greatest. I somehow didn’t think the Irishman would have a problem in that department, though.
Unless facing superior firepower, I had a feeling Patsy could handle himself in almost any situation.
I hadn’t asked but given the way he’d deferred to his boss on the telephone and treated his friend, Napoleon, I had no doubt he’d served in the military. I’d just have to ask him.
I thought about that for a second. In only twenty-four hours, I’d come to know Patsy very well and already considered him a friend.
There was something very down-to-earth and honest about him.
Based on how friendly he’d been with the two brothers, Rami and Raj—whom I considered friends—I knew there was kindness inside the man.
And all that had been before learning that he volunteered his time to help feed the homeless and how concerned he was when he found out someone had hurt Father Gilmartin.
He’d spent the day taking me to be seen at the hospital after searching me out just to make sure I’d tended to the bullet wound.
The truth was…it would’ve gotten worse and made me really sick if he hadn’t taken me in.
Patsy made me feel inexplicably happy when he grinned impishly at me or laughed at something I said.
He made me feel unfamiliar things too, like butterflies in my stomach when I’d held his hand.
He’d never made light of my situation or deliberately made me feel bad about how the less than appealing odor from not showering on a regular basis and sleeping in my car clung to me.
And he’d never made me feel less than in any way, even when he’d caught sight of what had to have been devastation on my face at the sight of my few possessions thrown on the ground.
He lived up to his last name. Patsy really was one of the good guys.
I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his small, cluttered apartment when he opened the door, immediately setting a box filled with my belongings on the tile floor just inside.
Somehow, the stacks of magazines and discarded shoes and clothes littering the room stood in stark contrast to the put together individual he appeared to be.
There was nothing about the apartment that didn’t contradict the stereotype of all gay men being great decorators or uber clean freaks.
Patsy was a man’s man in every sense of the word.
I glanced around his living room, noting the empty pizza box and coke can on the coffee table.
He looked back over his shoulder as I closed the front door.
“Sorry about the mess,” he muttered just above a whisper.
I smothered a laugh as he tripped over a discarded boot before kicking it across the room, swearing in a language I suspected was Gaelic.
“Maid’s day off,” he said, smirking as he glanced at me.
The humor in his voice cut off abruptly as his smile faded along with the dimples in his cheeks.
He took a step forward and narrowed his eyes to look closely at me.
“Yer not lookin’ so good, Wes. Have a seat and I’ll get ya a bottle of water to take a pill. I’m guessin’ yer in pain.”
He waved absently in the direction of the couch, and I walked over to sit down as he moved away, heading toward the kitchen.
“I live here alone so it doesn’t have the lady’s touch,” he called out.
I watched him open the refrigerator, grab something, and walk back into the room, holding out a bottle of water to me. “Right then. Take a pill.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot, quite obviously waiting for me to do as I was told.
I thanked him and grabbed a pill from the bottle tucked away inside my coat.
After downing it and drinking nearly the entire bottle of water, I felt better.
I chalked it up to being really dehydrated since there was no way the pill could kick in that fast.
Satisfied, he returned to the kitchen, presumably to start getting something together for our dinner. I watched him walk away, feeling guilty for not having the energy to help. My eyelids had never felt heavier, so I let my head drop back on the couch to rest my eyes for a few seconds.
I came slowly awake as someone shook my shoulder. “Wes?” My eyelids fluttered open as Patsy’s face swam into view. He was wearing a wide grin. “Hey there, sleepy head,” he said.
The moment I realized where I was, I sat forward with a start as the sweet face hovering above mine came fully into focus.
“Patsy?” I frowned, blinking away sleep as I looked around the semi-dark living room which was now filled with the heavenly scent of fresh baked goods.
My stomach growled loudly as I reached up to scrub the sleep away from my face with both hands.
The twinge in my bicep made itself known, though I could tell the painkiller had definitely taken the edge off.