“Daddy.” Bo pushed Gage’s eyelids up with his chubby fingers, grinning down at Gage with an abundance of enthusiasm that had no right to exist at such an early hour in the morning. Gage, freshly wrenched from a deep sleep, shrieked in terror and flailed. Reality collided with the nightmarish dream world he’d been living in seconds before, and the blurry sight of a young human face through the darkness looked hauntingly demonic. It only took a second for him to realize what had happened, but it was a second too long—he’d thrashed out from beneath Bo, who plopped down onto the bed with a rounded “oomf!” and a thud, like a mischievous, wheezing sack of potatoes had been tossed onto Gage’s lumpy old mattress.

“Baby,” Gage gasped. He rolled onto his side and drew Bo into his arms, expecting tears. Instead, he was rewarded with laughter, then a harsh cough. Despite it, Bo cuddled against his chest and snuggled him hard, wiggling his body back and forth, like if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to burrow his way behind Gage’s ribs. “Baby, I’m sorry. You scared me when you woke me up.”

“Sorry,” Bo said, although he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “Morning, Daddy.”

“Morning, baby boy.”

Gage kissed Bo’s forehead. His heart hammered in the way it did on nights when he stacked energy drinks with coffee in order to wake up enough to stream. The terror would subside soon enough, but until it did, Gage’s skin would tingle, and his hair would stand on end. The nightmares he’d been having were lost to him now that he was awake, but the feeling they’d evoked from him remained. Claustrophobic immobility. Unpreventable, aggravating helplessness. It was like having both feet suctioned deep into pools of molasses, knowing if only he could get free, he could make progress… but not knowing where to start when it came to freeing himself.

To soothe some of his discomfort, Gage stroked Bo’s hair and contemplated the course of their morning. A quick glance at the clock on the floor revealed it was just before six. He’d make Bo some breakfast, get him in the bath, dry and dress him, and from there—

“Daddy?”

“Yes?” Gage blinked back into focus, looking at Bo through the dark. He’d pulled back from Gage’s chest slightly, just enough so that he could peer up at him.

“Mmm. Where Mal?”

“Mal?” Mal, with his huge heart, looked after Bo on days when Gage had to work during the day—usually when he posed as a life model for Alex, or on weekends when he could stream during the day and still bring in enough revenue to make it worth his time. “He’s at home, sleeping. Why?”

“Wanna see Mal.” Bo sighed. He settled down and traced his hands clumsily over the front of Gage’s t-shirt. “Miss him.”

“You’ll see him soon.” Gage’s eyes burned, and he craved to shut them for just a little longer to eke more sleep out of his morning, but Bo needed him. He’d put on some coffee, silence his exhaustion with caffeine, and tackle the day. As soon as the respiratory specialist’s office opened, Gage would call them and set up an appointment. There had to be an opening not all that far out—doctors held places open for emergency cases, didn’t they? Bo was easily an emergency. “What are you most excited to do when you see Mal again?”

Bo didn’t hesitate before he replied. “Laugh.”

The honesty pierced Gage’s heart, and he held Bo a little closer. “We’ll laugh again soon, baby. I promise.”

Three days later, Gage sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair. Bo balanced on his lap. The office they’d been admitted to was small—barely bigger than Gage’s bedroom. It was equipped with an examination table and all the regular medical charts that Gage associated with a doctor’s office, but contained machines that Gage had no name for. The white metal finish of their tubes and rods and wires were coldly sterile and foreboding. Gage did his best not to look at them. Had he been sitting in the office to diagnose a problem within himself, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but knowing that those sleek, intimidating machines might be used on his son? It made him shiver.

Bo, however, was bored—Gage could tell by the way he tugged at his shirt and squirmed. When Gage wasn’t watching him, he reached for Dr. Russo’s desk, seemingly enchanted by the cylindrical container of tongue depressors. When Gage guided his hands away, Bo whined and wheezed and struggled.

“It’s not often that we see young patients in the clinic,” Dr. Russo admitted. He sat a polite distance from Gage, a pen in hand and a notepad resting on his lap. He’d already scribbled a few observations down. Gage figured it had something to do with the audible, crackling wheeze that accompanied each of Bo’s exhalations. “Can you describe what’s been going on?”

“Sure. Um.” Gage looked down at the blond mop that was Bo’s hair. “Last year in April, Bo started to get sick. At first, I thought it was just a regular cold, you know? But he was sick for longer than usual, and… and he wasn’t acting right. I took him to see a GP, he was diagnosed with asthma, and I started treating him with nebulizers to help his breathing.”

The tip of Dr. Russo’s pen rested on the paper. “Was he being treated with corticosteroids, leukotriene modifier, combination inhalers…?”

The question ruffled Gage, clenching in his stomach like the drop on a roller coaster. Was he a failure as a parent if he couldn’t spout off the chemical names of the medications Bo had been on? The longer he searched his memory, looking for answers his brain didn’t want to give up, the more the sensation of frustrated inadequacy tightened its grip on his mind. What would Dr. Russo think of him? How could he prove he wasn’t totally incompetent after this?

“Here.” At last, Gage slid Bo’s medical history across the desk to Dr. Russo. He’d given a copy to the nurse who’d assembled his chart, but he knew enough to always keep an extra copy on hand, just in case. Right now, he was glad for it. It saved him, even if only slightly, from his embarrassment.

Dr. Russo looked down at the paperwork, up at Bo, and down again. His pen scribbled across the notepad, but Gage couldn’t read the chaotic, spiky script. Doctors, he decided, wrote terribly not because they were too busy or too attentive to their craft to try to keep their letters straight—they wrote in obscuring ways so that their patients couldn’t follow along and stick their noses where they didn’t belong.

The hairs on the back of Gage’s neck stood on end. He hooked his arms around Bo and held him a little closer. Bo issued a frustrated wheeze and squirmed, his sharp elbows digging into Gage’s sides.

“And there was no improvement while he was being medicated?” Dr. Russo asked.

“None.”

“Did he display any adverse reactions?”

“No.” Gage frowned. “I mean, he didn’t get any better, which to me is an adverse reaction, but he didn’t get worse.”

“Is the wheezing noise constant, or intermittent?”

“Constant. But it’s not always so bad. When he runs around or exerts himself, it gets a lot worse, and he struggles to breathe. But these days, he doesn’t have as much energy as he did when he was healthy. He doesn’t really run around anymore.”

“And he began to display symptoms approximately a year and a half ago?”

Had it really been that long? Gage winced. “Yes.”

The scratch of a ballpoint against paper filled the space between them. Bo whined again and turned around on Gage’s lap, burying his face against Gage’s chest. Gage petted his hair and wished that they were anywhere but here—the sharp look in Dr. Russo’s eyes was judging, and the smart, concise way he spoke made Gage feel like he wasn’t enough.

“I need to order some additional testing in order to know for sure what’s going on,” Dr. Russo said as he wrote. “We’ll need a chest x-ray to examine his lungs. I’d like to have him take a spirometry test, and we’ll draw blood for a blood gas test.”

“That’s all?” Gage sat up a little straighter, hopeful. He didn’t know what a spirometry test was, but if Dr. Russo just needed an x-ray and some blood drawn, he could figure out a way to afford that. It wouldn’t be so bad.

“I can’t say for certain. It depends on what the tests unveil.” Dr. Russo looked Gage over, and a shiver passed down Gage’s spine. There was a mildly predatory look in the doctor’s eyes, like he saw Gage as a commodity rather than a patient. “What I know for certain is that your son is sick, Mr. Langston. The medical history you submitted lists no known history of illness… are you sure there’s nothing? If not on your side, then perhaps on the side of the child’s other parent?”

“No.” Gage shook his head. “I don’t know about any illnesses. His father and I are both healthy.”

Dr. Russo said nothing, but the way the skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes said that he wasn’t entirely certain that was true. Gage lifted Bo, who made a choked sound of protest, and settled him again on his lap.

“You’ll need to take him to have blood work done. Here’s a referral for his tests.” Dr. Russo scored the top paper on a pad on his desk and tore the sheet free. He handed it to Gage. “You’ll need to arrange for the x-ray as well.” He pulled open a drawer and withdrew another pad, scoring it as well. The paper tore cleanly from the rest, and Dr. Russo extended it to Gage. Gage accepted it, already feeling a little overwhelmed. “When you have the tests done, the results will be sent to my office. When I have them in, we’ll schedule a follow-up appointment to go over the results and have Bo conduct the spirometry test.”

“Okay.”

“With any luck, within the next few months, we’ll have our answers.” Dr. Russo smiled, but there was an odd quality to it that left Gage wondering whether it was genuine or not. There were times, although they weren’t often, when Gage wondered if some of the lingering looks he got were from men who’d seen him. It was disconcerting to know that there were people out there who knew his face well enough to recognize him, but who he would never be able to identify. “If there’s anything else that you can think of that would cast some light on Bo’s medical history, or if his symptoms start to change or deteriorate before your next appointment, call back.”

“Okay.” Gage didn’t know what else to say. He wished that he’d thought to ask Alex or Mal to come along to help him with Bo—he felt like an idiot, uncertain about what was going on while wrangling a bored, sick preschooler. If he’d had someone else there to entertain Bo, he would have been able to devote his attention to Dr. Russo. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dr. Russo saw him to the office door. Before Gage left, he handed him a folded paper. When Gage frowned curiously at it, Dr. Russo elaborated. “Bo’s medical history.”

“Oh.” Heat rose in Gage’s cheeks. He ducked his head and took the paper, feeling more embarrassed than ever. “Sorry. I, um, I forgot.”

“Clearly. Have a good day, Mr. Langston. I’ll see you again soon.”

Gage nodded. His tongue was tied, and his words felt like they’d be treacherous if he dared let them out of his mouth. Panicked, he clutched Bo to his chest and rushed down the hall, eager to get out. When his heart stopped racing and his mind cleared, he’d look into how much it would cost to get testing done, but for now, he needed a moment to pull himself together.

He could do this. He was strong.

But by the time he made it to the car, his hands were shaking so badly he could barely fit the keys into the ignition.

xVerity: $435? Shit, TD…

TeenDad2: It could be a lot worse.

xVerity: and it could be a lot better, too. The blood test is another hundred, right?

TeenDad2: yeah

xVerity: do you have that kind of money to spend right now? How much was the visit to the doctor?

TeenDad2: it was just a consultation so it wasn’t so bad. Like, $200

xVerity: If I lived nearby, I’d try to pull some strings for you, but I don’t know anyone in Aurora. I’m sorry, TD.

For a moment, Gage closed his eyes and allowed himself to internalize those words. xVerity, who’d started the Single Dad Support Group chat, and who acted as the cool voice of reason for the men within it, wouldn’t have said one thing and meant the other. He truly was sympathetic to Gage’s struggle, and in a small way, hearing that someone understood what he was going through made the situation better.

TeenDad2: That’s sweet of you. Thank you. I really appreciate it

LoveHarley: Hey TD, just catching up but ouch. Can you start a GoFundMe or something? I mean, that’s just the beginning of your expenses, right? You’re going to need several follow-up appointments, maybe more tests if your doctor isn’t able to make a recommendation, then the prescription itslef…

LoveHarley: *itselk

LoveHarley: oh ffs, ITSELF

Gage snorted. Even though he was rattled from the appointment, Harley always made him laugh.

TeenDad2: I don’t know, Harley. I’ve never had to do anything like this before. I mean, some of Bo’s prescriptions are covered under Medicaid, but it doesn’t cover the testing. And I’m nervous that eventually, the medications won’t be covered either. I mean, some of the drugs on the market are really scarily expensive. Like, stupid expensive. Hundreds of thousands of dollars for a monthly dose expensive. I couldn’t even dream of having hundreds of thousands of dollars over the course of ten years.

xVerity: You need to get on an insurance plan ASAP, TD.

TeenDad2: That would be great if I could afford it. I had a free consultation like, idk, a year ago or so, maybe? Or maybe two years ago, and the guy was basically like, you can pay $250/mo and still have a $15,000 deductible, or something stupid like that, and I just… that’s crazy.

xVerity: But if Bo’s medication is catastrophically expensive, would you rather pay $15k/year plus the monthly insurance rate, or what, the actual million dollars it would take to afford a $100k/mo prescription?

A million dollars a year. More than that, even—almost a million and quarter. Until that moment, with it spelled out on his screen, Gage hadn’t realized the magnitude of what he was dealing with. If Bo was seriously sick—if there was something wrong with him that was rare, or difficult to treat, or otherwise expensive, he could be in the hole for a million dollars a year.

The shock wore off all at once. Like a safety net had been snatched out from beneath him, Gage plummeted into a cold, dark place. If Bo was on medication all his life to manage symptoms, then what? He had another eighty or ninety years to go. The numbers expanded like spray foam in Gage’s mind until they filled it entirely.

There was no way he could make that kind of money, and there was no way he could ask that from Alex—not that Alex would be able to make that kind of money, either.

Gage dropped his phone on his chest and raked his hands down his face, tugging at his skin until it was taut and uncomfortable. A headache throbbed near the top of his skull, scrambling his brain. Nausea crept up on him, and saliva pooled in his mouth too plentifully to be comfortable no matter how many times he swallowed.

Could he afford the monthly insurance payments on top of everything else? If he put in more hours, and if he asked Mal to take Bo more often, then maybe…

His phone buzzed another few times. In a daze Gage lifted it and woke the screen. The Single Dads had continued the conversation.

LoveHarley: And then there’s all the accidents or unexpected circumstances that happen when you have a little kid. Like, getting tonsils/adenoids removed, or broken bones at soccer practice, or if you’re anything like I was as a kid, all those high-speed stunts you get up to on a normal, crappy bike not equipped to handle them.

xVerity: It’s a lot to worry about. TD, I know you’re probably freaking out right now, but all of us are here for you. We’ll figure out something together.

Gwynning: You guys are so chatty tonight. Alex keeps giving me the evil eye every time the phone buzzes

LoveHarley: omg Gwynn! You’re back!

LoveHarley: I feel like TD now, celebrating you haha. We’ve all missed you lately! Anyway, we were just talking about TD and medical bills. His baby needs some tests done. They still don’t know what’s wrong. We’re trying to figure out how to get him on insurance or what to do about it. Any ideas, oh brilliant mathematician, or… whatever you are? Lol. Numbers are kind of your thing.

Gwynning: @TeenDad2, what are your job prospects like? Is there any chance you can find a job with full benefits?

Gage swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and replied. His fingers moved sluggishly across the screen, often missing the correct letter. He hadn’t been so uncoordinated since he’d gotten drunk off the free champagne at one of Alex’s exhibitions.

TeenDad2: no. I dropped out of college before I even went to a single class because I found out I was pregnant with Bo, and I knew there was no chance I could study full-time and still support him

Gwynning: What about other skills?

TeenDad2: no

LoveHarley: what about personal connections? Do you know anyone that could hire you even though you’re not really qualified?

TeenDad2: No.

It wasn’t the entire truth, but Gage didn’t feel like trying to explain himself. Alex’s mother—his sort-of aunt by marriage—could have found a job for him within her company, Synecta. Even if it was mopping floors, or manning a desk, or shredding paper, Gage knew she would have taken him on. But the problem was, she didn’t know about Bo. None of his family did. If she’d found out, she would have told Gage’s parents, and word would’ve spread. Aaron’s family would have discovered the truth, Aaron’s fathers would have pulled him from university and brought him back home to take responsibility for the life he’d helped make, and Aaron’s future would have been shot. All of his hopes and dreams would’ve shriveled and died. Gage didn’t want that for him, and he’d promised Aaron that he could be strong while they were apart. So he’d hidden himself away in the city, told his family he was too busy with school and work to come back to visit regularly, and made short holiday visits when it was necessary while Mal watched Bo.

The options he could have fallen back on under regular circumstances weren’t available to him—not if he wanted to keep his promise to Aaron.

LoveHarley: Okay, so, crazy idea but bear with me here. If YOU can’t get a job with health insurance, why don’t you marry someone who has it?

xVerity: Oh my god, we are not going to advocate fraud in this group

LoveHarley: I’m sorry, xV

xVerity: I mean, I guess, considering the circumstances, it’s not a BAD idea, but morally, it’s dubious.

LoveHarley: …so are you on board the insurance fraud train?

xVerity: I’m not.

LoveHarley: I bet Knot would be. Paging @KnotMyProblem

A potently bitter taste spread through Gage’s mouth. KnotMyProblem had been increasingly absent from the group chat since Gage had confronted him earlier that week, and tagging him in a post made Gage nervous that he’d say cruel things out of spite. Having KnotMyProblem call him out in front of the other Single Dads was the last thing Gage needed.

TeenDad2: It’s okay you guys. I know I’m screwed. You don’t have to take sides on this…

But as he hit enter and sent the message, KnotMyProblem had already started typing.

KnotMyProblem: I’m been summoned by Harley, no less. What’s up, Dads?

LoveHarley: Knot, do you think that Gage should marry someone so he can get on their insurance?

KnotMyProblem: Hell yeah, I do. Your kid is sick, TD. You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Doesn’t mean you’ve got to be in love with them or have a relationship or anything.

LoveHarley: I think so, too. And hey, all of us are single except for Gwynn… maybe we should set up a Single Dad Insurance Fraud Ring

xVerity: Oh my god, Harley, are you serious?

LoveHarley: I mean, I think TD is the only one without insurance, though

xVerity: I cannot believe all of you right now

LoveHarley: So, who wants to marry TD? @KnotMyProblem, you’ve got kickass insurance, don’t you? Wanna marry TD and help get his kid better?

Never had Gage wanted to escape from a conversation so badly. His heart leapt into his throat, and he stared at the screen in horror as his head pounded. This couldn’t be happening.

KnotMyProblem: Are you kidding? I’d marry TD’s fine ass in a heartbeat. Let’s commit insurance fraud together. Getting naughty in the best way. ;)

No.

Gage set his phone aside and covered his hands with his face, hiding away from the world. KnotMyProblem knew how he felt. They’d had conversations about this. Why was he pushing? It left Gage feeling cheap and objectified, like what he thought or said didn’t make a difference. The only person he wanted was Aaron.

Aaron, who was across the ocean and so busy with school that they didn’t talk much anymore.

Aaron, who’d promised to come back home to him, but who’d been offered jobs all over the world… except for in Aurora.

What KnotMyProblem had said crept back into the forefront of his mind, decaying the trust he’d had in the dream he’d shared with Aaron when they were younger, before Aaron had left for Europe. Would Aaron ever come back home? By hiding Bo from him, Gage hadn’t given Aaron a reason to return. There was their relationship, of course, but after so long spent apart, did Aaron really feel the same way? They were older now, and time had changed them. All this time, Gage had been strong for him—he’d wanted the future Aaron had promised him more than he’d wanted anything else in the world—but Bo was sick, and the salvation he needed wasn’t on his way back to America any time soon.

What was he supposed to do? Bo needed his help. He needed his help right now.

TeenDad2: ok

Everyone started typing at once. The next few messages that arrived did so almost instantaneously.

xVerity: TD, you’ve got to be kidding.

LoveHarley: Whoa, no way??

KnotMyProblem: Shit, TD… are you serious? You really want to do this?

Gage’s stomach lurched. His heart crumpled in on itself like it was blackened with rot. His reply was only three letters long, but no three letters had ever made him feel as ill.

TeenDad2: I do.