LIFE IN CHAOS
By
Kathleen Hayes
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PUBLISHED BY:
Life in Chaos
Copyright © 2012 by Kathleen Hayes
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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This story was originally written as a part of the Goodreads.com M/M Romance Group’s Love is Always Write event. For more info visit us at https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/20149.
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Dedicated to Julia.
She wrote the prompt that inspired the story.
Thanks to my various betas, without you this story would be much poorer.
Thank you also to Dr. NP who made sure I didn’t make up random medical stuff and was kind enough to take the time to answer ridiculous questions like “Would a CAT scan sound more like an alien space ship or a giant hammer banging against a tin can?”
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“We make our lives out of chaos and hope and love”
-Stephen Nathan
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Chapter 1
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The gravel scraped on my shoes as I climbed the steps up to the lookout at the top of Mount Bonnell. It was close to sunset, and on any other day the small park would have been crowded with picture takers, couples, and outdoors enthusiasts. It was about to start raining, though, so the park had pretty much cleared out. When I reached the top, I took the left-hand trail. It would lead me to where I could look out over the lake and not be hemmed in by short stone walls and a wooden pavilion.
As I sat there, staring out over the waters of Lake Austin, the coming storm rolled steadily towards me. In the thin sunset light, the sky seemed to turn an odd orange-green color that I have only ever seen watching Texas thunderstorms. The air had a static-y ozone feel to it and I could almost taste the electricity when I breathed deeply. Purple clouds roiled in the distance, casting night-like shadows over everything in their path. Lightning shot in all directions within the clouds, like it couldn’t figure out which way the earth lay. Occasionally a bolt would get it right and shoot out towards the ground, thunder following immediately as if cheering at its success.
Eventually, the clouds swelled and seemed to hover at the tipping point, until all at once they exploded with a torrent of water. The fierce rain blinded me to the city beyond and to the lake in front of me. I let it pelt my skin and soak through my clothes. The power, the sheer magnitude of what was barraging me overtook my senses. Compared to this natural phenomenon, I was tiny, a mere speck in relation to the cosmos. The chaos and pains of my life were overpowered and lost their sharp edges.
The storm lasted only a few minutes. That’s how it is here - fierce, intense power, but over and gone before you can snap your fingers. As the rain eased off and the full dark of night fell, all the things I had been holding at bay rushed back into me and I doubled over in pain.
Finally, I took out my phone and did what I had been trying to build up the courage for all evening. I dialed his number.
Six Months Ago
We were sitting on the couch watching reruns of Firefly when it all went wrong. Everything started when the phone rang. It was in the middle of a gripping scene where two of the main characters were being tortured while trying to plan their escape and I would have let the phone ring, but we were at Andrew’s place and he answered before I could beg him not to.
I paused the TiVo when I heard him say, “Hi, Mom,” knowing it would be a long conversation. I always feel a little awkward sitting around when someone else is on the phone, so I went to the kitchen to start cleaning up all our take out boxes from dinner. By the time he hung up, I had wiped the counters, thrown away all the rotten leftovers from the fridge, taken out the garbage, and made coffee.
My first clue that the evening was going to be worse than a paused television show was Andrew’s tone of voice when he called out, “Shawn, I need to ask you something.” It wasn’t angry. It was more resigned, or possibly disappointed. I tried to keep a smile on my face as I walked back into the living room.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“My mom invited us to Thanksgiving dinner.” That’s when I knew what had been in Andrew’s voice. He knew I couldn’t go. He knew why I couldn’t go. But he was still asking.
See, my Dad is mayor of a small town in backwoods Texas - the kind of town that makes Rick Santorum look liberal- and every year on Thanksgiving, he throws his Annual Fundraiser Gala. Family is Expected to attend. Yes, that is a capital “E” expected. The only thing that could be worse than not attending is not attending because I was with my gay lover’s family. Not that they knew I was gay, or ever would.
I looked at him, sure that my thoughts were clear on my face. “And?”
“Will you come?”
“You know I can’t. My mom would kill me for missing my Dad’s Gala.” I said this with as much calm as possible. This was an old fight with us. At some point, one of us would lose our cool and we would start yelling. Nevertheless, nothing in the world could have prepared me for what he asked next.
“Then, can I go with you?”
I just stood there, dumbstruck, for a good thirty seconds, and I am sure my horror was apparent in my expression. This was when I expected him to start yelling. But again, I was surprised.
With almost complete cool, he said, “Is the idea of spending a holiday, any holiday, with me really so repulsive? No, don’t answer that. You know we have never spent any holiday together because you can’t tell your family about us. And I thought I could deal with that. I thought that over the years you might change your mind. But I was wrong. On both counts. If you ever need anything, I will always be here for you. But I can’t do this half relationship thing anymore. Please be gone when I get out of the bathroom.”
He walked towards the bathroom at the end of the hall and shut the door calmly. The little click of the door knob as it slid closed was the only sound in the apartment. I stared after him, momentarily confused, trying to process what had just happened. After an unknown amount of time, I heard the toilet flush and the sink start to run water.
Those sounds knocked me out of my reverie. I grabbed my wallet and keys from the table by the door and left. It wasn’t until I reached the bus stop at the corner that I realized tears were streaming silently down my face.
Present Day
As I sat there, the cold and wet of my soaked clothing seeped into my bones. By the time the phone started ringing, I was already shaking.
Andrew’s voice sounded slightly confused but not hostile when he answered, saying, “Shawn? Are you okay?”
It was no surprise to hear him ask that. After that day, there had only been a few stilted calls between us (first trying to make up, then trying to return various belongings to their original owner's custody). He knew I wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong.
I couldn’t keep the shaking out of my voice when I said, “Can you come and get me? I can’t drive.” It was true, I couldn’t. Not anymore. I had taken a cab to get here.
“Um, Sure. Where are you?”
“Covert Park, over on Mount Bonnell.”
“You’re outside?! In this weather?”
“Yeah, I’ll explain when you get here.” I was shaking so hard, I c
ould barely keep hold of the phone anymore. It had been a bad treatment today.
“Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thanks. I’m up at the top, off the left trail.” I managed to get that out before I had to either hang up the phone or drop it.
I sat on the ground with my back against one of the large rocks and I hugged my arms around myself, shivering violently, as I waited for Andrew to show up.
I was near to unconscious with cold and pain by the time he crested the rise and spotted me in the dark. The bright beam of his flashlight passed over my face once without stopping before it swerved back and stayed fixed upon me.
Since the last time we had seen each other, I’d shaved my head (as a preemptive strike against losing my hair) and lost about 30 pounds due to the nausea from my treatments. I am sure looked like a pale, gaunt ghost of my former self, if his reaction was anything to go by.
He rushed towards me, stumbling over the uneven rocks in the dark. He stopped mere inches from grabbing me up into his arms, apparently unsure of how or if he should touch me.
“Oh my God, Shawn. What happened to you?” He asked, in a hushed whisper. Even spoken that quietly, his words flew out on the cool air, over the flat surface of the lake below and seemed louder than they were.
I was shaking so badly at this point that I could barely get words out. “C-c-can you t-take me home?” I saw a brief battle in his eyes as he debated pressing me for details, or just doing as I asked. In less than a breath, though, he said, “Yes, of course.”
He leaned over to help me up, but as I tried to stand, bracing myself on his arm, my legs gave out completely. I was surprised when Andrew merely lifted my emaciated body and carried me like a baby, with one arm under my shoulders and one under my knees. I felt warmer already, as his body heat seeped into my left side. With a sigh of relief, I let my head fall against his shoulder, feeling safe for the first time in so long. I was asleep before he got to his car at the bottom of the stairs.
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Chapter 2