Only Love Page 19

  Max held up his book for Jed to read: Gastroparesis—My Personal Journey.

  “Really?”

  Max finally met Jed’s gaze. “Yes, really. I tried to Google gastroparesis on Dan’s phone, but I couldn’t spell it. Carla gave me this.”

  “Enjoying it?”

  Jed winced at the harsh sarcasm in his tone, but Max didn’t flinch. “No, but some of it is beginning to make sense.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Max closed the book and set it aside, still loosely holding Jed’s hand. “Yeah. I’m trying to understand why this happened, and I think I have a theory.”

  “You do?”

  “Maybe. You spent your whole childhood looking after Nick, and you were a leader in the Army too, right?” He leaned over the bed and peered closely at Jed. “You’re always looking after people. I don’t think it ever occurs to you to look after yourself.”

  “Nice theory.”

  Max stared hard at him for moment, then sat up, breaking the strange spell between them. “Yeah, well, I’m working on it. We can talk about it later. Rumor has it you’re going to be here a while.”

  “What?” Jed moved to sit up. The room darkened, like his head had dropped off the face of the earth and left his body behind.

  Max eased him back down with gentle hands. “Take it easy, buster. Apparently you’ve got some moody blood, and you have to stay here until it’s fixed.”

  Jed didn’t respond well to being restrained, even by Max, but the door opened before he could find the equilibrium to struggle and Dr. Howarth appeared in the doorway, his face stern and disapproving.

  Max started to slide from the bed. Jed shifted painfully and caught his elbow. “Don’t go.”

  “Um….” Max bit his lip, and Jed felt his heart break. How could he have ever been so angry with him… how could he ever believe Max’s reticence was malicious?

  Good to the bone….

  Jed tried to speak, but nausea overcame him. It seemed that two words at a time were about his limit. Dr. Howarth intervened, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind him. “Don’t leave on my account. If Jed’s happy for you to stay, so am I. I could use the help in convincing him to take better care of himself.”

  Jed swallowed hard, fighting the urge to puke on Dr. Howarth’s shiny shoes. He held out his hand to Max. “Stay, please?”

  Max stayed. He took Jed’s hand and settled back into his place on the edge of the bed while Dr. Howarth pulled up a chair.

  “Okay, I know you’re pretty beat up, so I’m going to keep this as brief as I can. I’ve had a look at your blood work. In terms of anemia, it’s not good. I tested you a month ago, and your levels have dropped through the floor since then. You were well last time I saw you. What’s changed?”

  Jed thought back. Until a few days ago, he’d felt okay. His fitness was improving all the time, and some days, he hardly felt the pain in his leg.

  “Anything you can think of? Stress? Changes to your diet or eating habits?”

  The doctor was more right than he knew. The constant nausea was a problem, but it was manageable if he remembered to eat. Trouble was, without Max placing plates of food in front of him, it was often sundown by the time it occurred to Jed, and by then he didn’t see the point….

  “He’s been by himself a lot recently. He doesn’t remember to eat when he’s on his own.” Max squeezed Jed’s hand but kept his gaze averted. “And there’s been some… family drama over the past few weeks. It’s been stressful for everyone.”

  Dr. Howarth made a note. “That’ll probably do it. When did the sickness start?”

  “Yesterday, I think.” Jed looked at Max. “It’s Thursday, right?”

  Max met his gaze and nodded.

  “Abdominal pain?” Dr. Howarth asked

  Jed broke his stare with Max. “Yeah.”

  “Can you show me where?”

  Dr. Howarth stood and came toward him. Max jumped down from the bed and retreated to the corner of the room. Jed felt cold without his touch, but the toe-curling sensation of Dr. Howarth pressing on his belly was enough to distract him.

  He winced.

  Dr. Howarth frowned. “Is that sore?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about here?”

  Jed gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

  Dr. Howarth relented and stepped back. “Any chest pain?”

  “Not until this morning.”

  “I can see you’re dizzy and off balance too. Have you passed out at all over the last few days?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Dr. Howarth glanced his way. His gaze lingered for a moment before he made another note. “You had an irregular heartbeat when you came in. That seems to have resolved now, but I want to run some more tests to be sure. I also want to conduct an endoscopy. The gastroparesis and anemia can exacerbate and mimic each other. I think it’s most likely that the gradual drop in your iron levels brought on the relapse, but we need to be sure there’s nothing else going on. Do you have any questions?”

  “Can I go home?”

  “In a few days. I want to keep you in and treat this anemia properly. Your blood pressure is always on the low side, but it’s really low right now. Even if I discharged you, I doubt you’d get very far. How long since you last kept some food down?”

  “A day or two.”

  “Water?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Dr. Howarth let out one of his patented patient sighs, the type of sigh that irritated Jed beyond belief. “I know you don’t want to stay, Jed, but I think we need to look at this long term, and try and figure out a way of managing it better. Otherwise, you’re going to end up back here with the same problems.”

  Jed was silent. He knew the doctor was right, but the prospect of having a tube forced down his throat was daunting. They’d wanted to do it in Boston, but he’d resisted, distracted by dealing with the smashed-up state of his leg. No, scratch that. Distracted by not dealing with anything at all.

  “What’s in the IVs?”

  Max’s voice startled Jed. The last time he’d looked, he’d been absently fiddling with the zip on his hoodie, though Jed knew he was absorbing it all in his own way.

  “Saline for hydration, and intravenous iron. I’ve set him up for a four-day cycle. You’re familiar with the side effects of the treatment, Jed. It’s the same as the shots you had. Initially, you might find you feel worse, but give it a few days. It will help in the end.”

  “What are the side effects?”

  Max again. Dr. Howarth smiled. Jed wanted to punch him. “Nausea, sickness, abdominal pain. Headache and fever are also possible. I’m going to schedule the endoscopy for tomorrow. You’re nil by mouth until then, but I’m guessing that’s not a problem right now.”

  Not really.

  “What about tea? Can he have tea?”

  “Not yet. Might be helpful after, though. Everything’s going to feel a bit tender for a little while after the procedure. Do you have any more questions?”

  Jed shook his head. He was beginning to feel redundant in the conversation. “I’m good.”

  Dr. Howarth gathered his things. “Okay, I’ll leave you to rest, and check in on you later. How’s the sickness? Do you want some more Zofran?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Fuck Zofran. The drug stopped the physical action of throwing up, but the resulting vertigo was far worse than the nausea it eased. Now that the fog of sedation was beginning to clear, he felt like the damn bed was sliding down a hill.

  “Fair enough. Call a nurse if you change your mind, or if you find yourself in pain. We can help you, Jed. It’s what we’re here for.”

  Dr. Howarth left without giving Jed another chance to ignore him. The door closed with a quiet click. Jed looked for Max, but he didn’t have to look far. Max was already back in his place on the side of the bed.

  Max leaned over and cupped Jed’s face in one hand. He
stroked his cheek with his warm, calloused thumb. Jed closed his eyes, lulled by the gesture, and for a while neither of them spoke, but then Max sighed. “Are you pissed off with me?”

  Jed forced a heavy eye open. “What for?”

  “For talking to your doctor. I could tell you didn’t like it.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  It was true. He’d expected Max’s questions in one form or other. He was a curious guy by nature.

  “Good, because I’m not sorry. Some doctors are douche bags, but not that one. He’s good, and he wants to help you.”

  “I know.”

  Jed shifted slowly onto his good side. His injured leg was stiff and sore from being idle in bed for so long… come to think of it, he had no idea how long he’d been at the hospital. His mind was hazy. He remembered being sick the night before Kim arrived to turn his world upside down, and every word of their conversation, but things blurred after that. He had a vague memory of Dan hauling him off the kitchen floor, but he couldn’t be sure it was real. “What time is it?”

  “Just after seven.” Max pulled back the sheets so Jed could flex his leg, but Jed could feel the tension rolling off him.

  “Something on your mind?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? I feel like my brain is about to explode.”

  His choice of words reminded Jed that he wasn’t the only one with health problems that couldn’t be ignored. “Are you feeling okay? Where’s Flo?”

  Max scowled. “She’s outside terrorizing the waiting room. I’m fine. I’m… frustrated, not just with this, with everything. It’s such a bloody mess.”

  “What’s bugging you most?”

  “Honestly?” Max let out an irritated breath of air and rubbed his hand over his head. “I know it’s ironic, and hypocritical given what Kim told you yesterday, but I’m so bloody pissed off you didn’t tell me you were ill. I could’ve helped you. It didn’t have to be like this.”

  Jed took a moment to absorb that Max seemed to know Kim had been to see him. His mind was slow, clouded by pain and drugs, but the conversation he’d had with Kim would stay in his mind forever. “You do help me, more than you know. And I’m sorry, okay? It’s something I had to deal with, and I guess I didn’t deal with it very well.”

  Max put a cautious hand on Jed’s chest. He rubbed a small circle that made Jed’s eyes fall closed for a brief, soothing moment. “Trust me, I understand that part. I just don’t get how you could let me… how you could sleep with me when you knew we were both hiding something so huge from each other.”

  “Because it didn’t change anything, at least not for me.”

  “But it did, didn’t it? I saw the way you looked at me the night of the wedding, like you didn’t recognize me, and maybe you didn’t. That’s not right, Jed. It’s not bloody right.”

  Jed started to shake his head. The room swam. He licked his dry lips and let his head fall back on the pillow.

  Max gave him a moment, then took his hand again. “I’ve only been with one other person since my… since I came to America. I lived with him and tried to be everything he needed me to be, but I couldn’t do it because there was a big black hole between us, like a bridge I couldn’t cross. It was different with you. Everything’s different with you.” He paused and took another deep breath. “I would’ve told you about my parents, Jed. I don’t know when or why, but I would’ve. I don’t think you ever would’ve told me about this.”

  Jed closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see Max so sad, but he had nothing left.

  Max pulled the thin sheets back over him, and his kiss on Jed’s cheek was like a gentle breeze.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MAX DRUMMED his fingers on the arm of the hard plastic chair. His stomach growled. It was midmorning, and he’d missed breakfast, but he didn’t care. Unable to sleep, he’d caught a bus back to the hospital at the crack of dawn, only to find Dan had never left. Jed had been unwell overnight, and Dan had stayed by his side throughout.

  The sickness had eased by the time Max reached Jed, but the pain was so bad he’d needed a shot of morphine. Max didn’t get much sense out of him before he passed out, and he didn’t wake up until an orderly came to take him down for the scheduled endoscopy.

  Endoscopy. Max scowled. Yet another word he’d had to look up. He didn’t want to live in ignorance of what Jed was going through… of what he’d already been through. He wanted to know it all, to have enough knowledge to support Jed the way he deserved, but, fuck, it was hard. Max was horrified by what he’d learned the past day or so, and it was almost enough to make him forget that Kim had saved him the trouble of confessing his own deepest and darkest secrets.

  Almost. In many ways, Max didn’t know how he felt about that. He’d had twenty-four hours to reconcile himself with the fact that Jed knew everything, but despite years and years of hiding, from himself as much as anyone else, Max couldn’t find it in himself to care. None of it mattered, not now. For the time being—for the next half hour or so, at least—nothing mattered except seeing Jed safely return from having a camera-tipped tube forced down his throat.

  Max got up and walked to the large window in the waiting room. The sun was out in Portland, disguising the bitterly cold wind. From behind the spotless glass, he could almost pretend it was a bright summer day instead of the back end of winter.

  The thought depressed him. Jed couldn’t spend the summer in the hospital. Max had plans for the summer, fantasies he’d dreamed up while hard at work alone in the boat shed. Fishing, swimming in the lake, all the produce he wanted to show Jed they could grow in the garden. Jed liked the garden. Max often saw him reading on the stone steps to the greenhouse. Only the lashing rain drove him indoors.

  Dr. Howarth said he only wanted to keep Jed in a few days, but as Max stared across the hospital parking lot, a persistent sense of foreboding began to brew in the pit of his stomach. Jed had an incurable, life-changing condition, and so did Max. Realistically, what kind of future did they have? What if they both got sick at the same time? How could he take care of Jed if he couldn’t take care of himself?

  “Max?” Hector Valesco appeared quietly beside him, placing his warm weathered hand on his arm. “You all right there, son? How’s that boy doing?”

  Max smiled in spite of himself. Jed would turn thirty-three on his next birthday. Aside from his rakish grin, there was nothing boyish about him. “They took him away to do an endoscopy… a test on his stomach.”

  “Ah, I think Carla was talking about that this morning. It doesn’t sound nice, but it is a quick procedure, she said. It shouldn’t take long, no?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  “Then come away from the window, son. Rest a little. Anna will be cross if she sees you so weary.”

  “Anna’s here?”

  Hector drew Max away from his staring contest with the window and led him to the hard plastic chairs. “Not yet. She had to stop at Carla’s with some groceries, but she will be here soon. Lord help the boy when she gets her hands on him.”

  Max could relate to that. It had been a few years since a seizure had last landed him in this very hospital, but Anna Valesco’s fussing wasn’t so easily forgotten.

  The image of her smothering Jed was comforting. Max slouched down in his chair and tried to let Hector’s gentle small talk wash over him, though Hector seemed to know he wasn’t in the mood to chat. About ten minutes had passed when a nurse popped her head around the waiting room door. “Are you with Sergeant Cooper?”

  Max started. It felt strange to hear Jed referred to by his military title. He saw it on his mail all the time, but it was rare that anyone acknowledged it aloud. “Is the procedure finished?”

  “Not yet. There was a delay in starting. Jed hasn’t responded well to the sedation. Would you like to come down and sit with him? It might help.”

  “Um….” Max looked down at his twitching hands and jittery knees. He longed to go to Jed and comfort him
, but in his heart he knew he couldn’t be without Flo right now.

  Hector laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go. Are you going to be okay by yourself?”

  Max nodded tightly. Flo was at his feet. He’d be fine.

  Hector left, and Max was alone, but not for long. Carla and Anna joined him a few minutes later. They bustled around him, chattering about this and that. He ignored them until Carla flopped into the seat beside him.

  Max dropped his head to her shoulder. “Where did your mum go?”

  “To Jed’s room. I think she’s going to spring clean it before he gets back. How are you holding up? Did you talk to Jed last night?”

  “A bit. He didn’t say much, though.”

  Carla hummed. “Yeah, Dan said he was pretty out of it. Hopefully, he’ll be a bit better today.”

  Max let the silence hang for a while, until he asked the question that had been niggling at him since Carla had answered Dan’s call the day before. “Did you know he was sick?”

  “Yes.” Carla eyed him with a steady gaze. “He didn’t tell me, and he never really talks about it, but I read it in his file before he first came to see me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you know I couldn’t, don’t you? I still shouldn’t talk about it with you, but if it’s any consolation, I don’t think he deliberately hid it from you.”

  “I get that. At least I think I do.” Max had been pissed the night before, but his anger had stemmed more from helplessness than a sense of betrayal. “It just doesn’t seem fair. He’s been through so much already.”

  “He’ll get better, Max, but it’s going to take some time.”

  Max got up, shrugging off her comfort, and drifted back to the window. “I know. I just hate that he has to deal with this.”

  Carla let him be after that, and though time seemed to drag along at a maddeningly slow pace, it felt like he’d just blinked when Hector walked back through the door.

  “He’s sleeping,” Hector said before anyone could speak. “I think I bored him with all the tales of my childhood. He’s heard most of them before, after all.”