I awaken wrapped up in Justin’s arms and I’m not sure how I got here. He’s sleeping peacefully and I slowly move out of his grasp and off of the bed. That’s when I see Lindsay sitting in the corner chair. I can almost feel her anger from across the room.

She stands up and motions for me to follow her out into the hallway. As soon as my pants are back on, I do go into the hallway but I don’t stop to talk to her. I’m making my way toward the coffee machine and I hear her footsteps behind me.

“Gus got home after midnight last night.”

I’m still walking, not turning around to see her face.

“I know. He was here.” I think he was here at least, I vaguely remember him being here with Justin when I came back.

We’re in a small alcove with a few vending machines and tables. I run my hand across my face trying to focus on the machine in front of me as I stifle a yawn. My head is pounding slightly and my back feel stiff from sleeping on that hospital bed.

“Brian.” She’s stopped now and demanding my attention.

“What?”

I’m fishing in my pocket for money and finally I have the coffee situation under control. So I turn to face her while it’s pouring into a little paper cup that has dropped from somewhere inside of the machine.

“I want to know if what Gus told me is the truth.” She’s got her hands resting on her hips.

“What did he tell you?” I ask now grabbing for my coffee.

She sits down at a small table next to the vending machines. I sit down across from her and sip at the hot liquid in my cup.

“He said you fell asleep at the loft and didn’t get back until after twelve. He says that you forgot to set your alarm clock. ”

I nod and smile at her.

“That sounds about right. Why do you doubt him? He’s a good kid.”

“Brian, I don’t want him out at all hours of the night. He could have been anywhere. I get the impression that he’s lying to me and I want to know where he was. Kids today have so much more to deal with than we did. He could have been at a party… with drugs…”

“Lindsay things were the same when we were kids. Parties… drugs…” It’s funny how she’s conveniently forgotten that it wasn’t that long ago that she did the same things she’s so worried about him doing.

“Brian you’re not funny. I just want the truth.”

“Lindsay relax. He was here.”

“He has a curfew Brian.”

She looks at me and her nose scrunches up.

“Brian… you smell like a distillery.”

I nod and continue drinking my coffee.

“Oh I see. I get it now. My son is lying for YOU. Jesus Brian… When are you ever going to grow up?”

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Never?”

“I wondered why you were in bed with Justin.” She’s standing now. She’s right next to me and pointing her finger down in my face. “You went out and got drunk… then you came back here. Christ Brian… When are you ever going to grow up?”

“Are we done?” I ask standing and walking toward the door. She doesn’t follow me, so I assume we are.

Justin’s stirring a little when I get back to his room. He’s reaching out and his eyes open when he doesn’t find me lying next to him.

“Brian?”

“I’m here.” He looks over at the corner chair and smiles. His smile fades though, as I see him open his mouth. He wants to talk and I know he’s probably got a million questions for me.

Just then someone brings in his breakfast tray. I see him picking at his eggs and he pushes his bacon toward the side of the plate.

“Brian?”

I look up and meet his eyes. He points to the bacon offering it to me. I shake my head and he picks up the wheat toast offering it. I smile and take it. We sit in a kind of awkward but peaceful silence for awhile.

“About last night…” I’m not sure why I’m even trying to explain.

Justin silences me by putting his finger up to his lips and shakes his head. I smile knowing that he’s not even expecting an explanation. He reaches out and gingerly traces my sore jaw and raises an eyebrow at me, obviously wondering how my jaw ended up bruised. I’m surprised Gus didn’t tell him, but it’s best that he doesn’t know. It would probably just upset him.

“It’s nothing.” I say and he nods knowing that I won’t talk about it.

After Justin is taken down for his physical therapy I head back to the loft for a badly needed shower. The bruising on my jaw is pretty noticeable so I decide not to shave, in a day or so the beginnings of a beard should completely cover it.

I get back to his room just as Justin is returning. He’s obviously tired and I don’t think I’ve seen him this weak since just after he woke up. His eyes are barely staying open and he’s not acting like himself at all.

“What’s going on?” I demand of the nurse as she helps him into bed.

His eyes flutter and he’s instantly asleep.

“He’ll be okay. It’s just some pain medication. A really bad headache hit him while he was in therapy.”

I must look as worried as I feel because she comes over and pats my back reassuringly.

“He’s fine. It’s normal. Try not to worry so much. He’s recovering quicker than the doctor’s expected.” She smiles at me as I walk over to the bed to get a closer look at him for myself. I push back his bangs and muse again at his need for a haircut.

“You worry too much.” She’s smiling at me and I give her my best effort at a smile. Finally she leaves me alone to worry in peace.

Almost an hour later Jennifer Taylor breezes into the room and immediately she starts to take over. She’s straightening things up as if the whole place is a mess. It’s not, but she’s in some kind of obsessive motherly housecleaning overdrive.

Justin is asleep; he was exhausted after his physical therapy today. He didn’t even fight with the nurse as she held his arm, helping him get into bed. His eyes closed almost immediately and I’d been sitting here watching him sleep for the last hour or so when she finally showed up.

This sudden headache of his has me worried. What if they missed something in his tests? Then I start to think that maybe I caused it somehow with my behavior last night. I remember him helping me into bed that might have been too much for him. He seemed alright this morning though… My thoughts keep going around and around like this as I watch Jennifer folding up an extra blanket next to Justin’s bed.

We haven’t said one word to each other, and as far as I’m concerned it can stay that way. She’s making more noise than anything else as she moves flower arrangements from the ledge near the window and brings them closer to Justin’s bed. She sets the arrangement that she’d had delivered today before her arrival on the small nightstand next to his bed. She picks up his sketchpad off of the nightstand and shoves it into one of the drawers.

“You might want to put the flowers back over by the window.”

She gives me a cold look. I move to the edge of my chair and point back at the window to give her the general idea.

“His allergies…. mom.” She doesn’t know what to do now. She realizes that she’s wrong, and she knows the smile that I’m giving her is about as phony as the one she’s returning.

“I think they’d look better over by the window. Don’t you?” She sounds condescending as if it had been her idea all along.

“Good idea and don’t hide his sketchbook.”

“I’m not hiding it. I was just straightening things up.”

“They have a housekeeping staff for that.”

She sits down and stares at Justin for a few moments then turns to look at me.

“How long has he been sleeping?”

“About an hour or so, he should be waking up soon.”

“When will his doctor be in?”

“He was already here this morning.”

“How long have you been here Brian?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I turn my attention to a magazine.

She sighs folds her hands together.

“I want to apologize to you Brian.”

“What for?” I look up at her.

“For calling Craig, I just didn’t know what to do Brian. I was so far away. I was so worried about him. I wasn’t thinking…”

“You’d rather have your ex-husband sitting here than me. I know what you were thinking.”

I stand up and leave the room. I can’t listen to her. I shouldn’t have to. She follows me into the hallway.

“Brian… why are you here?”

“I told you once. I care about him.”

“It’s not your responsibility. You also told me once that your only responsibility was to yourself and no one else. If I remember correctly you asked him to leave a week later.”

“Mrs. Taylor you don’t remember shit. You asked me to let him go. You told me that I was hurting him. Have you conveniently forgotten that conversation? You said he’d been offered a job in New York and that I was holding him back. I let him go… only now I don’t think there ever was a job offer.”

“He turned it down Brian. I don’t know why he did that, but it would have been a great opportunity for him.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter now. Like you said, I would have just kept hurting him.”

“Maybe I was wrong.” Her voice is so tiny now that I’m sure I’ve imagined her saying that.

I can’t take her right now. Not her superior attitude and not her attempts at being remorseful. I made my decisions then and I’ll stand by them today. I’m sure I was right ten years ago to let him go.

“You weren’t wrong. I wasn’t wrong.” I leave it at that, and I leave her standing alone in the hallway. As I walk away I think to myself ‘Maybe the timing was just wrong.’

To be continued.