Chapter 7
I WAS surprised the next morning when we came up for brunch, around ten, that the family was there with two men I didn’t know. The way Landry fisted his hand in the back of my hoodie made me instantly wary, and the only thing I could think was that the two men were the problem.
“Good morning,” Cece greeted us.
“Good morning,” I said back, taking a seat at the table one away from Jocelyn, having Landry take the seat between us. I was uncomfortable, and when I was, normally I put Landry beside a wall and me on the other side of him. The closest I could come to safety here was his sister. I put my arm around the back of his chair as the older of the two men took a seat on the other side of Jocelyn with the other man next to him.
“Landry, you remember Dr. Armstrong.”
He nodded.
“And this is his new partner, Dr. Kellum.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, leaning forward, looking at Cece.
“Well,” she began, clearing her throat, “I was surprised to hear that Landry had never been medicated or seen a psychiatrist or gone into a treatment center for his bipolar condition once he left home. Since Dr. Armstrong is the one who diagnosed him all those years ago, I just wanted him to see Landry now and tell us what he thought.”
“For what purpose?” I asked her. Apparently “friends for brunch,” as we had been told to expect the day before, meant Landry’s old shrink. “Why are they here?”
She looked confused, like that had actually never occurred to her.
“Trevan.”
I looked at Mr. Carter.
“We just wanted Landry to speak to Dr. Armstrong, if he would.”
I looked around the table and realized that Hugh was missing, as well as William, but everyone else was there from the morning before, including both Landry’s brothers. I turned my head, my eyes flicking to Landry’s face.
“You have to believe me and not them, okay?” he asked me.
“Of course,” I assured him.
Landry turned his head and Jocelyn leaned back at the same time, giving my boyfriend a clear view of the man. “Yes?”
The doctor was smiling hesitantly. He was an older man, maybe late fifties, early sixties, handsome, tall. He reminded me of a high school principal; he had that look.
“So tell me about yourself, Landry.”
He cleared his throat. “We need to clear some things up first.”
“Like?”
“Well, for starters, I never did drugs.” He sighed heavily. “I mean, I did them, but mostly just to have something to do. I’ve never been addicted to anything.” He tipped his head back and forth. “Well, nothing pharmaceutical.”
The table went wild, and he started laughing and then turned in his seat to face me.
“Fuck them,” I told him. “Just look at me and tell me.”
Noise raged around us, and he opened his mouth to try to speak, but I couldn’t hear him. He could barely hear himself.
“Shut up!” I roared, standing up fast and overturning my chair, which brought the room to a sudden hush. “If you all can’t give him the courtesy of letting him speak, we’re leaving right fuckin’ now.”
No one said a word.
Slowly, I gazed at each of them, one after another. I finally returned my full attention to Landry as I picked up my cushioned chair and sat back down beside him. “Go ahead.”
He released a deep breath. “Okay, see, I hated this place. I hated them.” He gestured at his parents. “I hated the rules and the restrictions, and so I tested and pushed to see what would happen, how far I could go.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Nothing worked.” He shrugged. “I mean, Trev, I stole and I left vials of coke in my gym bag and left joints in my dad’s Jag and nothing. No one said a fuckin’ word to me.”
I nodded. Limits I understood. Landry needed a very tight leash or he didn’t feel loved.
“I was a rich spoiled brat, and I know that now, but still….” He shrugged. “No one gave a shit what I did, where I went, who I saw; no one. So I escalated it. I stole and I had raging parties and I got drunk and crashed the cars and still… nothing.”
“May I please interject,” his father barked at him.
We both turned to him.
“We cared, Landry. We tried to get you help and—”
“But you never said stop. You never said, ‘I’m gonna beat the shit outta you if you don’t cut this crap out.’ You never cared, Dad. You only cared when I got caught with Will in the stables, and you and his dad found us because I made sure you would.”
His father’s mouth hung open.
“Please,” Landry scoffed. “Do you have any idea how long I had sex with Will, Dad? All junior year, all summer, all senior year… we fucked like bunnies.”
I didn’t have to make everyone silent; they were all staring at him, completely dumbfounded, even Jocelyn. He had them all floored.
“But after that, after you saw us, after you had to apologize to his father, explain it to his mother, people at the country club—then it was different. Then I was crazy. Then I was addicted to drugs. Jesus, that shit was hysterical. I barely did any drugs. I mean, sure, some for recreation, but Trevan can tell you: I haven’t done any since he’s known me.”
All eyes on me.
“He hasn’t,” I assured them. “I don’t do them, he doesn’t do them. We’re too busy.”
He gestured at me as if to say “of course” and continued, “Yeah, exactly. Trev works, I work. I have a business. Drugs are too expensive and way too time-consuming.”
“But—”
“Dr. Armstrong,” he said, getting up, walking over to the man, standing over him. “Why did you think I was bipolar?”
He coughed. “You were manic, Landry.”
“Or I was just bored out of my mind.” He shrugged. “I mean, Trevan has cousins, you know, who sit and play video games, and they are just angsty, moody pieces of crap.”
“Agreed.” I nodded.
“And you ask, you know, ‘What’s wrong? Why are you sad? What’s going on?’ And it’s nothing. They can’t tell you. They can’t articulate it. They’re just teenagers. When Trev gives them money, when we take them to a concert, do anything out of the ordinary for them, they brighten for, like, a second and a half, and then they go right back to reading their manga and posting on their blogs and snarling. Maybe, and I’m just throwing it out there, maybe that was me. It’s just a thought.”
Dr. Armstrong was studying Landry’s face.
“I mean, who died and made it necessary for me to be happy and smiling every hour of every day?”
“Landry,” he said gently, “I understand what you’re saying, but son, you had such inflated highs and terrible lows. You went into a rage once that took your father and I both holding you down and my nurse giving you a sedative to calm you. That is not my imagination.”
“Sure. And maybe I can still flip out a little sometimes, but so can all of you.”
“Landry—”
“I live with him.” He pointed at me. “Day in, day out, I wake up in bed with him in the morning and I go to bed with him at night. I have quirks, I need specific, what?” he asked me. “What would you say?”
“Structure,” I told him. “You need your routine. As long as there’s that, you’re fine.”
He shrugged and smiled at Dr. Armstrong. “I don’t like change. I don’t like people I don’t know around me, or close to me, and I definitely don’t like anyone around Trevan.”
Everyone was back to looking at me.
“I know I’m a little messed up. I know that he does a lot to keep things smooth and calm, and I do stupid things like buy boots.” His voice went out on him.
“It doesn’t matter,” I assured him.
The tears were there suddenly. “I was such a brat.”
“Yeah, so, who cares?” I grinned at him. “Come here.”
He charged back to me, flung himself down into my arms, and buried his face in my shoulder. “I love you.”
“Yes, I know,” I soothed him, rubbing his back, releasing a deep breath and squeezing him tight as he squirmed around in my lap. “Stop fidgeting.”
“I told you I didn’t do drugs.”
“And I believed you.”
“I know you did, but I thought if you knew what a fuckin’ brat I used to be, then you’d know it wasn’t gonna change and then you for sure wouldn’t want me.”
“Oh for crissakes, Lan, I love you no matter what, no matter what stupid-ass shit you do. I’m not going anywhere, and one of these days you’ll stop testing me and you’ll just know.”
He shook his head. “I don’t test you. I just do stupid crap. I know you love me. You’ve shown me, and when you make me do what you want—that’s the best.”
I grunted.
“Remember that time you locked me in the bathroom at Tim’s party because I was dancing on the coffee table and I was gonna strip?”
“I remember.”
“And when I screamed myself hoarse, you used his bungee cords to tie me up and then carried me out over your back?”
I nodded, mortified that he had just related that story, but what could I do?
“Yeah.” He shivered hard. “That was awesome.”
I squinted at him.
“And when we got home you tied me to the bed and—”
“Hello,” I cut him off. “TMI, baby, okay? Seriously?”
“Oh.” He looked around, smiling sheepishly at the looks of absolute horror on everyone’s face. “Sorry.”
“But you know,” I said into the sudden awkward silence, “maybe me manhandling you and being rough with you isn’t such a good thing. I’ve been thinking that maybe I should start seeing someone about that. I don’t wanna ever hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me.” He was adamant.
“Yeah, but Margo, you know, Adele’s friend that works with her at the clinic, she said that she’s got a really great therapist, and I was thinking, when we got back, that I’d go and see this guy.”
He squinted at me before he got up off my lap, took hold of my bicep, and walked me over to the edge of the room. When he turned to face me, his eyes were narrowed with worry. “You don’t need to see anybody. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Maybe not, but I should check it out.”
He was agitated, shaking his head, biting his bottom lip.
“Baby?”
His hands went to my chest, and he leaned close. “I don’t want you to go see some stranger by yourself. I wanna be there with you, okay?”
“If that’s what you want. But this guy might want to talk to me alone.”
He pressed his lips tight together. “Yeah, but I live with you, so he’ll probably wanna talk to me too.”
I shrugged. “Could be. You know more about that than me.”
His eyes flicked to mine. “You already talked to Adele?”
“Yeah, and you remember Margo; you liked her.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, so I figured when I got back, I’d call this guy up.”
“After you talk to Gabriel.”
“Yeah, that comes first,” I said, chuckling a little. “Obviously.”
“Okay,” he agreed and nodded, hands clutching at my sweater. “We’ll go together and talk to this guy ’cause I don’t know him, and you know I don’t like anyone I don’t know being around you.”
I knew that. I was counting on it. “Good, all settled,” I told him, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. “Now let’s go back and finish this.”
We returned, and all eyes were on Landry as I took my seat.
“So,” he went on, “after you guys”—he gestured at his parents—“were sure I was nuts and wanted to check me into that clinic in New York, I told you I was fine. I told you that being gay didn’t mean I was crazy. I might be crazy, but I’m a gay crazy man, not a crazy man because I’m gay. Does that make sense? You thought if you got me sane that I wouldn’t be gay anymore, and that’s ridiculous. So I left to save us all a lot of heartache. The fact that it took you getting sick, Mom, for you guys to want to talk to me pretty much tells me I was right.”
“No, Landry, you—”
“I can’t be fixed, Mom; my sexual orientation is homosexual, plain and simple. Maybe if you had come at me without saying that if I was sane, I wouldn’t be gay… maybe things between us would have been different.”
“But it doesn’t matter,” she told him.
“Now it doesn’t,” he replied. “But that wasn’t the case eight years ago.”
“Ohmygod,” Chris groaned, looking back and forth between his parents and Landry. “He was right. All this time and he was right? You cut him off because he was gay, not because of anything else.”
“It’s not that simple,” Neil told his son.
But it was.
“Christ,” Landry sighed, glancing at me. “Are you hungry? ’Cause I’m starving.” His smile was beautiful, making his blue-green eyes sparkle.
“Yeah.”
“Come on, let’s get some food.”
Breakfast was a buffet, so Landry and I went to pile our plates full of food. He left first, walking back to the table, promising me coffee.
“Trevan, is it?”
I turned and Dr. Armstrong was there. “Yes.”
He sighed deeply. “I appreciate what you did there, and I’m sure the Carters do as well.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Landry needs help, and you’re making sure he gets it by using yourself as the patient when we all know it should be him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You handle him very well. I don’t remember him ever being so contained, so calm.”
He would not get me to incriminate my boy on any level. The fact that he was even there felt like an ambush to me.
“I see that the Carters were misguided,” he said and coughed. “But that does not mean that Landry does not need help.”
“Not him, me. I’m the one who needs a shrink. If he decides down the road that he wants one as well, then he will.”
“Trevan—”
“I have problems; you heard what he said.”
“I heard him say that he was out of control and you took care of him. That’s what I heard.”
I shrugged. “He agreed to go with me when I talk to someone, that’s all I know.”
“He’ll go with you because he thinks he’s doing it for you.”
“Or he won’t think he’s doing it for me, but he’ll do it for me anyway because he doesn’t actually wanna hurt me, and maybe he worries about that.”
He grunted. “That’s hardly fair, you denying things and then suddenly telling me that whatever I think, you know already.”
I shrugged.
“So Landry gets to pretend he’s doing it for you, seeing a therapist, and he gets to keep his pride intact, is that it?”
“That’s it.”
He stood there just staring at me.
“Doc?”
“That’s very selfless,” he said softly, his eyes locked on mine. “He has the potential to be very dangerous, you know.”
“Or not.”
“Or not,” he agreed.
I shrugged. “Don’t worry. If I die, no one will sue you for not committing him.”
“I couldn’t commit him if I wanted to. He’s not a danger to himself, and there’s no evidence that he’s a danger to others.”
“Nope.”
“This is fire you’re playing with.”
“Lucky I’m an earth sign, huh? So he can’t hurt me one bit.”
He was confused.
“Astrology. I’m a Capricorn.” I shrugged. “Supposed to be hot in bed, but I dunno, it’s probably a load of crap.”
He grunted. “He’s very fortunate to have you.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him. “It goes both ways.”
I left him at the buffet table and walked back to the table and sat down. As promised, there was coffee, and, fortified, I turned my attention to Cece.
“I want to talk about your remission.”
“Oh.” She was surprised. “Yes, what about it?”
“Hit me with the specifics. Me and Landry need to know.”
She looked back and forth between us. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything.”
“Yes, but—”
“He’s good,” I told her, my hand on her son’s chest. “I’ve got him. We need to know about you because he and I hafta go home tomorrow, and we need to know what’s happening with you, when we can come back, and if you’re up to flying out to Detroit to meet my family.”
She was stunned. “You want me to meet your family?”
“Yes, ma’am, of course I do.”
She looked at me, waiting, then at Landry, who was also waiting, both of us ready for her to tell us the plan.
“I….” She stammered, looked at her husband. “Neil?”
He looked at Landry and me. “Boys, we… Trevan….”
“Sir?”
“Do you understand how wildly inappropriate this is to ask? I mean, we don’t want Landry in a homosexual relationship. We don’t want him in the business he’s in, consorting with people below his station. You understand that we want him to stay here with us and for you to leave.”
“You do?” I smiled at him. “I thought you liked me.”
“I––we––”
“I know I surprised you, both of us did probably. Landry’s different.”
“Yes he is,” his father agreed with me. “But Trevan, the path Landry’s on is not the one we want him to follow.”
“Maybe,” I assented, “but what you want or think isn’t gonna change anything. You get that, right? He loves me, he loves my family—my mother especially—he loves his business, and he loves Detroit, his friends, all of it. So you have, like, zero chance of screwing up my life by taking him away from me.”
“I—”
My hand went up to shut him up. “So let’s get beyond all that. Forget it. I figured maybe you’d want to take a shot at knowing Landry, getting your family back together and all. Do you?”
He stared at me.
“Sir?”
“You are just the strangest man I’ve ever met.”
I grunted. “Yeah, well, I’ve had a weird few days.”
“Trevan—”
“Thanksgiving’s in like two weeks. Whaddya say?”
“I say yes,” Cece chimed in, nodding. “I want everyone together.”
I turned to look at Jocelyn. “You and Hugh? Yeah or no?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, so, maybe you bring someone new, huh?”
Her eyes were leaking tears as she looked at me. “You would… that would… yeah?”
“’Course. You’re the one we give a shit about; bring whoever the hell you want. We’re a warm welcome just waiting to happen.”
“Yeah,” Landry told her, taking her hand. “You can come see my shop, and if you want, maybe you can stay. I would love it, and what’s keeping you here?”
She nodded, her voice gone.
“It would be nice,” I told her.
“I would love it,” she said.
Landry beamed at her, kissing her hand, leaning his cheek on it. Of all of them, I could tell she was the one he liked best. They actually had a chance at the brother/sister bonding thing if she visited and played her cards right.
Scott looked incensed. “What the hell is—”
“Me,” Chris said suddenly. “For Thanksgiving? Lan?”
“I gave you a bracelet, didn’t I?”
He sucked in his breath.
“Even though you thought I was a drug addict and a crazy person, I forgive you.” He smiled at his brother. “I’ll even let you sleep on my couch if Scott doesn’t want it.”
“I’m not going to Detroit for—” Scott started, but his mother cut him off.
“Suit yourself,” Cece told him. “The rest of us will be in Detroit for Thanksgiving.”
“Mother, have you lost your mind? You can’t go to Detroit!” he yelled, getting up, beginning to pace. “Dad!”
“Your mother never wants to go anywhere,” Neil Carter told his son. “She’s been too scared to leave her doctor. But now she wants to take a trip, which I hope will be the first of many.” He sighed deeply. “Oh yes, Scott, we are most definitely going to Detroit.”
Whatever Neil Carter thought about me didn’t matter in the least. His wife wanting to travel he took as a very good sign. Landry being willing to reconnect, give them a chance, was more than he could have asked for, and now he finally saw it. He was not going to miss the opportunity to be with either one of them.
“I look forward to us having an adventure together,” he told his wife.
Cece put her hand on his face, and he covered it with his own, the love in his eyes easy to see. Watching his wife want to do something, want to travel, to live, that was gutting him.
“Me too,” she told him. “Maybe afterwards we could go to New York. I haven’t been to Broadway in a hundred years.”
“I would love that,” he said breathlessly.
“Good,” she said before turning to smile at me. “It’s settled. We’ll be there, and if there’s a change and I can’t, you’ll come back to see me, won’t you, Trevan?”
“Yes,” I promised her.
She reached for me and took my hand. “Thank you, for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
When she let me go, I turned back to my boyfriend. He was looking at me.
“What?”
“It won’t ever be like yours, Trev. You get that, don’t you?”
His family was not like mine—yeah, I knew that.
“It’s cold in Detroit,” Scott muttered a second later.
We all looked at him.
“It is, right?”
“You can borrow a coat,” I promised him.
He shot me a look and I laughed, which turned the grin he was working hard at not allowing into a full-blown smile.
Landry was stunned.
Jocelyn burst into giggles.
Chris obviously had no idea that Scott’s face could do that, smile.
It was nice.
“Trevan.”
I looked back at Cece.
“It’s you, you did this. You gave me my family back.”
“No,” I corrected her, tipping my head at Landry. “It’s him. My dad always said if your family is together, everything will be all right. Your family wasn’t together, but now it is.”
“Now it is,” she agreed, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Dr. Armstrong, are you all right?” Landry asked him.
“Yes, Landry,” he said and cleared his throat. “I am.”
My boyfriend turned and smiled at me. “You’re right, weird couple of days.”
Truly.
MR. CARTER, who I’d thought didn’t love his son, mauled Landry at the breakfast table, hugging him so tight he couldn’t breathe. I liked it; breathing was overrated anyway. And after that, the light came from heaven just like it did on Paul on the road from Damascus, and the man apologized to me. Gay or not, poor or not, ethnic or not, I seemed to be an excellent influence on Landry, and his wife liked me. He actually hugged me, which freaked Landry out a little and his brother Scott a lot. It was funny.
Jocelyn explained about Hugh after Dr. Armstrong and Dr. Kellum left, about how she had been cheating on her husband and how great Hugh was being about it, how he just wanted an amicable divorce and for them to split everything fifty-fifty. She thought that they might even still be able to be friends and really hoped so. He was her best friend, and not being able to talk to him about the affair was the part that had hurt.
I didn’t understand about being friends with exes unless no one had done anything wrong and you just got sick of looking at each other. It was beyond me. But more power to Hugh if he could let it go, his wife’s betrayal, and not be bitter. He was a better man than I was.
While I enjoyed sitting there listening to everyone talk, watching Landry, I realized that he was still not engaged. At home, at family dinners, holidays, barbecues, whatever, Landry sat and argued and laughed and was loud. He was asked his opinion and gave it, sometimes harshly, sometimes gently, but never shyly, never like he was being now. It was not in him to sit back and simply observe. That he was doing so pained me.
“Quit,” he said softly.
My eyes met his.
“It’s not the same.” He spoke the words under his breath. “I know your family. I don’t know mine.”
My heart hurt for him even as he pressed into my side.
Later, as I stood looking out at the enormous grounds, the man-made lake, and the edge of the stables, Mr. Carter walked up beside me.
“I hadn’t counted on Landry returning home,” he said to me. “I never thought he’d come. It makes everything so much easier.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I let it go.
“Thank you,” he said, tipping his head at his wife and children sitting at the table. “We’re a family too. We might not be one you understand, but we are one.”
I turned to look at him. “I only make judgments if he gets hurt, Mr. Carter, not for any other reason.”
“Your own pride, your own comfort, doesn’t factor into things?”
“No, sir, not if you love someone.”
“We agree on that,” he said even as he caught his breath. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know the man well enough to pry.
LANDRY surprised the hell out of me, and even though I was worried, I was glad to see him trusting us to be apart.
I had to go home; his father had asked him to stay through the weekend. Landry had agreed and planned to fly back Sunday morning because he needed to be back at work on Monday. He had inventory and ordering to do, and billing and all sorts of assorted paperwork hell. So I was leaving that night, Thursday, and I’d see him in two days. The fact that he felt good enough to let me get on a plane without him made me happier than I could express. And I hoped that time alone with his family would bring closeness. Maybe it was me. Maybe without my presence, they would all rebond. I was hopeful. I had a twinge of worry, but he had shown them, and me, how strong he was, how in control. I left that afternoon, and he was bouncing up and down in the back seat of the limousine as Chris told him that they were all going hot air ballooning the next morning.
Outside departures, I kissed him and told him I loved him.
“I know.” He smiled wide. “Take care of things at home and let me know exactly what’s going on tonight when you call me.”
“I will,” I told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. I waved from the curb afterward.
My phone rang when I was in line to get coffee. “Yes, dear?” I teased him.
“I just, uhm, had this horrible revelation.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re happy I’m staying here because you’re worried that you’re gonna go home and somebody’s gonna kill you, huh?”
“Actually, that thought had not crossed my mind.” I chuckled. God, his brain. “I was just happy that your father asked and you said yes is all.”
“Oh. Who’s picking you up at the airport?”
“Javier and Dave.”
“Okay, tell them I said hi.”
“I will. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, but he sounded wilted before he hung up.
The plane ride home was nice. I sat beside a mother with an infant in her lap and a toddler in the seat between us. He was cute and wanted to talk, and I gave him my phone to play games on.
“Ohmygod, thank you,” his mother said, gripping my arm.
“It’s fine,” I assured her.
When I changed planes in Dallas, I was sitting next to two guys who were wannabe gangsters. Ever since I was a child, my father used to smile and say that his son did not suffer fools. Nothing had changed. I leaned against the window, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.
In the terminal, I saw Javier and Dave. Hard to miss them in their suits and trench coats and scarves.
“Why are you guys dressed up?”
“I came from work.” Javier chuckled, his hand on my shoulder. “And Dave is dressed like an adult because, lo and behold, he had a job interview today.”
I looked at my friend. “And?”
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “He took me for drinks after.”
“That’s gotta be good,” I said, looking back at Javier.
“God, I hope so. Being the breadwinner in this family sucks.”
At which point my friend Dave, whom I had known since the fifth grade, smacked his boyfriend of four years really hard.
“Crap,” Javier groaned, squeezing my shoulder.
They were good together, and even though Dave had been looking for a job going on six months, they were still doing fine and had not, Javier assured me, had to dip into their savings. Tall, tan, beautiful Javier Gomez and short, bald, round David Schroeder made love look effortless and sweet. Sometimes guys looked at Dave and thought they could take Javier from him, and then Javier himself would quickly, easily, and effectively shut them down. No, Dave was not a super model, but God, Javier worshipped the ground the man walked on and vice versa. They were what I wanted for me and Landry.
“Where’s your boy?” Dave asked me suddenly, squinting.
“He stayed with his parents in Vegas until Saturday. He’ll be back Sunday night.”
“Oh.” Javier looked at Dave, who lifted his eyebrows and then turned back to me. “Was that a good idea, darling?”
I shrugged. “Sure, he’s fine there.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
I looked at Dave; he forced a smile and nodded too.
“Will you two knock it off? Landry’s not broken; he can handle a lot of shit by himself.”
“Yes,” Javier agreed, “but not as much as you think. C’mon, let’s get you some food.”
The drive was nice, as was the company and the banter and dinner at one of my favorite places. I got treated, too, which was the best part. Once they dumped me at home, I staggered into my bedroom and passed out.
I thought I had been asleep for hours, but when I opened my eyes, it had been maybe twenty minutes. The reason I was up was that my phone had rung, and after a minute of fumbling around, I answered it even though it was not a number I knew.
“Hello?”
“Trevan?”
“Yep.” I was barely awake.
“This is Jo.”
“Oh, hey, how’s Landry?”
“Well, after all that this morning—” She paused and sucked in her breath. “As of right now, Landry’s having a meltdown.”
“Define ‘meltdown’.”
“He’s bouncing off the walls.”
I grunted. “Did he eat?”
“What?”
“Feed him. When he’s hungry, he gets antsy and sort of frantic. Feed him, preferably like a big hamburger or something heavy so he’ll sleep.”
“You’re serious.”
“Yeah, go ask him if he wants to eat. I’ll stay on the phone.”
The sound was muffled, and I started to drift.
“Ohmygod, Trevan.”
“Yes, I’m awake.”
“That—he’s hungry.”
“Yeah, I know, gotta go, falling asleep,” I cut her off. “Put him on the phone.”
“Are you—”
“Please.”
Again there was muted noise, and then, “Trev?”
The voice I loved. “Hi, baby.”
“Are you okay? I worried that you weren’t okay, and then I thought who can I call, what can I do this far away, and I started thinking that maybe your sister would—”
“Love,” I said, my voice deep and husky, “deep breath. I’m fine. You need to eat something, yeah?”
There was a catch of breath. “Maybe.”
“I think yeah.”
“Okay.”
“So go eat and call me tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m going to bed.”
“You’re going to bed?”
“It’s late here.”
“Oh.”
“But I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. In the morning.”
“First thing you wake up, you call me.”
“Okay.” He sounded happy.
“Okay, baby.”
“I love you.”
“I love you back.”
And he was humming when he hung up.