Chapter 26 #2
“I don’t blame you for any of it. You know that, right?
I might be freaking out a little over all the money you’ve spent.
I’m used to being self-sufficient. But what happened that day is not on you.
And I’m a stubborn ass who wants to be independent all the time, but I like that you want to take care of me.
I just want to be able to take care of you too. Hmm?”
Oscar’s lips twitched. He had always wanted to be a man like his father, someone who took care of others, someone who spread himself thin as a sheen of butter to nourish the people he loved.
For a long time, Oscar had felt so much like the one being taken care of: by Papa, by Grandma, by Lina.
By Lucas, too. He’d resented it. Not them—never them.
But he’d hated being the one who needed taking care of.
As he looked at Aaron now, a man who’d redefined Oscar’s life over the span of nearly a year, he couldn’t feel an ounce of resentment, nor remember its definition.
“You already do,” Oscar said. “In all the ways that count, you take care of me all the time.”
Aaron nodded, his shoulders easing, then turned to look at Dr. Andrews. It wouldn’t be a lie to say Oscar had completely forgotten about this man, witnessing the intricacies of their relationship without asking to.
“Well, looks like the two of you have this whole marriage thing figured out, don’t you?
” Dr. Andrews laughed, a warm crackling thing straight out of Oscar’s past. On his left hand, a wedding ring glinted, and Oscar hoped he was as happy in his own relationship as they were.
“Your feelings are valid, Aaron. We all want some measure of independence, and since you tell me you’ve started finding casual work again, I believe you’re well on your way. ”
“Yeah.” Aaron nodded, but Oscar wasn’t sure he agreed with the doctor. He knew his tells now, every twitch and its cousin on that beautiful face.
“And medical bills are very stressful, no doubt. What about before your symptoms? You told me they started mildly around the fall, which does coincide with your work trouble. But then you registered a spike in symptoms in February. Will you tell me what happened then?”
“Maybe I’m the spike,” Oscar said, scoffing at the irony. “It got worse when I left home, didn’t it?” He glanced at Aaron through the corner of his eye. “Was it too much, leaving you with Luigi for the week?”
“No, as if!” Aaron threw his head back, eyes widening behind his glasses. “Fuck. Yes.”
“Was there a trigger, Aaron?” The doctor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk.
“Yes.” Aaron drew in a breath. “I forgot. I was so preoccupied with this…”
Oscar wished he could reach for the fingers that now rose to cover Aaron’s face as he groaned, but the foundations of a house had no business interrupting a moment like this, so he sat still and waited.
“I went to see Mom that week,” Aaron said, running a hand through his hair. “While Oscar was away for his exams, I went to the care home. I didn’t think it through. I always go on the weekends, but I wasn’t working anymore, and my routine was disrupted. I was alone, you know?”
“Mhm,” the doctor said. “Was your mother having a hard time?”
“Not exactly.” Aaron shuffled around on his chair. “It happened when I left. I bumped into Robbie, my big brother. We were…when I was young, he and I were the closest among us four siblings.”
“But not anymore?” Dr. Andrews asked when Aaron hesitated.
“He didn’t even say anything. I know he saw me.
I was just coming out of her room, and he looked in my face.
And then he walked past me like I didn’t exist.” Aaron rubbed the corners of his mouth.
“I…I felt awful. I didn’t even get on the bus right away, just walked around. Yeah, it was very triggering.”
“Understandable. And did this happen before the coffee machine and the conversation with your friend?” Dr. Andrews asked.
“Yeah. The day before.” Aaron sighed, leaning back.
“Alright.” Dr. Andrews pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and opened the file.
“Well, this all adds up.” He looked at each of them, settling on Aaron, lips curving.
“Aaron, you did the right thing coming here for tests and scans, given your mother’s history, and if you ever have any doubts, I suggest you do the same.
In fact…” He picked a card out of a tray and slid it their way.
“If you ever have any concerns, call me on my cell, and we’ll discuss what’s happening before you make an appointment. ”
“It’s not advanced, then?” Aaron asked, nostrils flaring.
“Aaron, you don’t…” Oscar frowned, wondering whether there was something the doctor had said that he hadn’t picked up on. It sounded like clearance, like a clean bill of health, like—
Aaron’s eyes snapped to his, wide behind his glasses, lips parting as he registered true hope. His hand reached for Oscar’s, clasping his fingers. They turned back to the doctor.
“Your scans were clear, and the tests didn’t register the gene,” Dr. Andrews said.
“You don’t have any signs of dementia. Or anything else neurological.
Your symptoms did tick enough boxes for us to consider it, and it’s natural to make the connection, given your history, but it isn’t neurological.
There’s no guarantee for the future, not for any of us, but right now, you have nothing to worry about.
You’ve had a tough few months, and you’re also dealing with your mother’s condition, which can be a big load to bear.
Not to mention the big changes you’ve been through and all the difficulties that come with being in a marginalized group.
You’re very strong, Aaron, and it’s good to pride yourself on that, but none of us are invincible, and we all have periods where we don’t act like ourselves. ”
“I’m…I’m okay?” Aaron asked.
“You’re more than okay, Aaron,” Dr. Andrews said, glancing from him to Oscar, finally settling on Aaron again. “Go celebrate with your fiancé. You’re absolutely fine.”
Oscar was the one who burst into tears.