When I woke up this afternoon my moms were both home. They were busy going over some stuff for a charity auction that they’re in charge of in a few weeks at the GLC. I walked right past them as I grabbed Ma’s keys and headed out the door. They didn’t seem to notice me, but that’s been a regular occurrence lately.

I can’t say I’m surprised when I get to the hospital and find my Dad sitting outside of Justin’s room. I guess I shouldn’t have tried to get any sleep. Dad looks miserable and Justin’s all alone, two more things that are my fault. Dad looks up and gives me a wave when he sees me.

“Why are you out here?”

I look toward the door figuring I’ll get an answer from it quicker than him.

“Justin told me to get out.”

I turn back toward him.

“He did not.”

I don’t mean it to sound like I’m calling him a liar, but I’m just not buying this story. He must mean that Justin made him leave, but he didn’t really tell him to get out. He can’t.

“Yes he did. I pissed him off pretty good.”

He shrugs and shifts his feet a little.

“He actually told you to get out?” I guess I’m lost here because last time I checked Justin couldn’t say more than ten words tops.

“Yup. He told me to get out of his sight too.”

A small smile appears on his lips before he looks away from me.

“Whoa.”

That’s really all I can say at this point. I have a ton of questions in my head, but they’re not coming out. I want to know why Justin threw dad out of his room. I want to know exactly what he said. I want to know how long Dad’s been out here. I want to know why he didn’t just leave after Justin kicked him out but all I can manage is Whoa. So I say it again.

“Whoa.”

“You better go make sure he’s okay. I’m dying for a smoke, but I’ll be back up here in about ten minutes. If you get a chance to come out here I need to talk to you.”

I nod and head into Justin’s room.

He’s awake and sketching when I walk in. He looks up at me but he doesn’t smile. I knew he’d blame me for the fight he got into with my dad.

“Hey Jus.”

“Hey.”

“Feeling better today?”

I remember how bad he was last night. His headaches scare me to death, but no one will tell me anything about them. His doctor just insists that he can’t talk about Justin’s condition with me, and then he dismisses me like the child he believes me to be.

“Yeah.”

“So you and my dad are fighting?”

I take off my coat and hang it next to the one that’s already there. I check the label and it confirms what I already knew, it’s my dads.

“Yeah.”

“What did he do now?”

He sets the sketch pad down and sighs.

“I get it. He was being himself.”

He sort of snorts and rolls his eyes shaking his head in agreement.

“What did he do?”

I feel bad as soon as I ask because I know that he can’t really tell me.

“Pushes…. too…. hard.”

I spin around and stare for just a second in shock. Well I’ll be damned. Justin is talking now. Way to go Dad!

“He’s been known to do that. He means well you know.” If I don’t defend him no one will.

“Is…. he still…. here?”

I’m almost shocked by him asking, because this has to be the first question he’s been able to ask besides “Why?”

“Yeah but he went out for a smoke.”

I look back over at his jacket and figure it’ll be a quick smoke for him. He’s not likely to stay out there long with the temperature below ten degrees.

“Fuck him.” Justin looks angry but his voice is softer.

“He really pissed you off huh?” He nods.

“Why…. is he…. still here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”

“Fuck him.” He says again.

He points to my dad’s jacket.

“Cold… outside?”

“Cold doesn’t begin to describe it.”

I shiver just thinking about it. At least this room is well heated. It’s almost too hot in here for me; Justin doesn’t seem to be overheated though so maybe it’s just me.

“His jacket…” He sighs.

“If he wants it, he knows where it is.”

I know I should take his jacket out to him. It’s cold and he’ll probably catch pneumonia now that I refused to take it. I could easily run it down to him, but he could have just as easily stuck his head back into the room and gotten the damn thing himself.

“You really told him to get out?”

Justin nods.

“You’re both idiots, you know that right?”

He rolls his eyes at me. At this point I really don’t care if I piss him off or not, he needs to hear this just as much as my dad does.

“You’re both still so fucking much in love with each other that it’s not funny, but you’re both still putting up this stupid front. How long is this going to last? For the rest of your lives?”

“He kicked… me out… first.”

Justin picks up his sketchbook and starts to draw. I’m sure that’s his not so subtle way of telling me that he’s not going to listen to anything else I say. Well that might work on some people but not on me.

“Yeah, he did. That was ten years ago and neither one of you have been happy since.”

Justin looks up and I can’t read his expression. It’s not quite anger, it’s not even sadness, it’s almost like he’s trying to cover up whatever it is that he’s really feeling and I only thought my dad was a master at that.

“Take him the… jacket Gus.” I would laugh now, because it is so obvious that he cares about Dad still, but it’s really sad to see Justin trying to shut off his emotions like this.

“Ok ‘Dad’.” I say sarcastically as I get up.

Justin raises his eyebrows at that.

“Hey if you’re going to act like him, I might as well pretend that you are him.”

I grab the jacket off of the hook.

“I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

That earns me a chuckle.

“Smart ass.” I hear him say it as the door closes.

Christ he is turning into my dad. That’s not exactly a comforting thought. I shudder at the mere thought of two of them for me to deal with? That’s too fucking scary if you ask me.

I find my dad outside shivering as he lights up a cigarette. He’s sitting down and I see a steaming cup of coffee sitting next to his cigarette pack on the bench. He looks over at me and I hold out his jacket.

“Thanks.” He says quietly.

He picks up the coffee cup, moves it to the other side of the bench and I sit next to him. As he puts his jacket on I take one of his cigarettes and light it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He grabs my wrist. I try to pull it free but he’s not loosening up his grip one bit.

“Drop the cigarette.”

“No.” I state definitely.

He lets go of my wrist and drops his own cigarette to the ground. He crushes it out with the toe of his shoe.

“Since when do you smoke?”

He’s not looking at me and I’m glad because counting right now I’ve only ever had two cigarettes in my life. The first one was when I was ten years old. It was with Tommy Mason, he’d swiped a pack from his mom. I coughed for an hour straight after that failed attempt at being an adult. I suck in a little of the smoke now and I can feel my nose crinkle up involuntarily. I just shrug and hold it out to him.

“I don’t. You want it?”

He smirks as he takes it from me. He inhales once and then drops it to the ground next to the other one. He goes through the same ritual of carefully crushing it out with the toe of his shoe.

“So what was that all about then?”

“I don’t know. It got your attention.”

“If you want my attention ask for it. Don’t do something stupid to warrant it.”

“Okay.”

“So what’s wrong?” He’s watching me now. I can practically see the wheels turning in his brain. He always wants to be one step ahead of people, but he isn’t sure where I’m coming from.

“I don’t know.” I answer meekly and it’s true. I’m not sure what’s wrong. Everything seems wrong, but he wouldn’t know about any of it. He hasn’t been around in the last two weeks so his wheels can keep spinning he’s not going to figure me out. Hell I can’t even figure me out.

“Something’s bothering you.”

He looks away and I stay silent for a few minutes. Finally the words start to spill out of me.

“No one takes me seriously. Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

“Cause you’re a kid.”

He smiles and pats me on the head.

“I’m serious Dad.”

I don’t know why I even bothered to talk to him. Why should he be any different than my moms? Why would he even take the time out of his busy schedule to listen to me? I lean back on the bench and close my eyes.

“I know you are Gus. So who won’t listen to you?” His voice has taken on a serious tone now and I open one eye to make sure he’s not just patronizing me.

“You, Justin, Mom, Ma…” I let my voice trail off.

“Maybe you just think we’re not listening.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and lights another cigarette.

“You might not think so, but you’re coming through loud and clear.”

That gives me some hope at least where he’s concerned. Maybe I’m getting through his thick skull. Of course that would happen at the same time that Justin’s going to start imitating Dad.

“Well one out of four ain’t bad.”

“Isn’t bad.” He corrects my English.

“I know.”

He sighs and puts his arm around my shoulder.

“You know Justin isn’t really mad at me, don’t you?”

“He’s not?” I look at him incredulously.

“Nope.” I wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t.

“Who’s he mad at? Me?”

Dad looks at me like I’m completely out of my mind.

“Why would he be mad at you?”

“Because everything is my fault?”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of this. Everything.”

“Bullshit Gus. None of this is your fault. Stop blaming yourself.”

“I didn’t stop him from getting hurt. That’s why he almost died. That’s why he couldn’t talk, that’s why he’s having these headaches. The two of you fighting is my fault. You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t made you come today instead of me. If I had gotten here sooner maybe you two wouldn’t be mad at each other.”

“And maybe he still wouldn’t be able to communicate?”

“That’s the only good thing that came out of this.”

Before I knew what was happening he had his arms wrapped around me in a tight hug.

“I’m not mad at Justin, okay? He thinks he’s mad at me, but he’s not.”

Then he leaned closer and whispered.

“You never know what could happen Gus. Maybe it won’t be the only good thing to come out of this.”

He says it so quietly that I wouldn’t even be sure that I heard him if I hadn’t felt his breath on my ear. I think I know what he means. At least I hope it’s what I think. He lets me go and stands up.

“Are you going home?” I ask him.

“No. I want to get back inside. It’s fucking cold out here.”

He kicks at my feet.

“Come on. Let’s go upstairs so I can annoy the hell out of Justin again for awhile.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something earlier.” I suddenly remember him saying that.

“Yeah I do want to talk to you. It can wait though. You can come by the loft tonight when you leave here. We’ll order something in, okay?”

“Yeah we can do that.”

I’ve really missed him. I know I was a shit not taking his calls, but he was a shit too for not coming to see Justin.

I follow him inside and once we get on the elevator and we’re alone he turns toward me.

“I have one question right now. Has Justin’s dad been back around?”

I wonder why he’s asking me that. I shake my head and look at him confused.

“I haven’t seen him since the day he punched you. Why?”

“I just wondered.”

I don’t really buy that, but as I’m about to press the issue the elevator door opens up and he steps out into the hallway.

“Come on sonny boy. You can go in first to protect me from flying bedpans.”

I laugh but I do go in before him. There aren’t any flying bedpans. In fact Justin looks relieved that Dad’s with me.

“We’re back.”

“Hey.” Justin says.

“Hey. Miss me?” Dad asks as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up.

“Miss me?” Justin says with a smirk.

“Did anyone miss me?” I ask and feign a hurt expression.

They both laugh at me or with me. I’m not sure and I don’t even care. It’s just nice that we’re all here and we’re all laughing.

To be continued…