Love and Lists

“The dragon on the ceiling has bingo teeth,” Dad says in a serious tone.

My eyebrows rise in surprise at his response, and I turn to my mom as she gets up from his bedside and walks over to me.

“Um, you should probably just ignore everything he says at this point in time,” she whispers.

“No, really. There are sharks on the planes in the window of the palm tree. My chin feels funny,” Dad mutters, reaching his hand up and scratching his nose.

“What the f**k is wrong with him? Is he having a heart attack?” I question.

We both turn to look at him when he bursts out laughing, pointing at his feet. “There are kittens licking my toes! Look at the kittens! Hi, little kittens!”

Mom sighs and turns back to me. “The doctor is still running some tests, but right now it doesn’t look like a heart attack or anything serious. He was at work and told Drew he felt funny—dizzy and nauseous. Then all of a sudden he told Drew he couldn’t feel either of his arms so Drew freaked out and brought him here.”

Dad continues to point and laugh at the kittens that aren’t there, and a few minutes later, Tyler joins us in the room.

“I parked your car in the garage, Gavin. Saw Drew and Liz outside. They’re going to call everyone and let them know what’s going on.”

Tyler tosses my car keys to me and I put them in my pocket. I was so worried when we got here that I jumped out of my car in front of the emergency room and told Tyler to go park my car.

“So what’s going on with big daddy? Is he dying?” Tyler asks as he sidles up to my mom and puts his arm around her shoulder.

She elbows him in the ribs and moves away. “I’m going to chop off your arm and beat you with the bloody stump. Gavin, I’m going to go get some coffee. Keep an eye on your dad. Call me on my cell if he starts crying again.”

Mom walks over to my dad and kisses him on the cheek before leaving the room. I move around to the side of his bed and take the seat my mom had been occupying.

“How are you feeling, Dad?” I ask.

“These chicken feet have pot whistles,” my dad complains to the ceiling.

I sigh and look over at Tyler. He looks a little guilty. He’s biting his nails and staring wide-eyed at my dad.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure all of your wishes that he would die so you could make a move on my mom aren’t coming true,” I tell him with a laugh, trying to lighten the situation now that I know Dad isn’t really having a heart attack.

“My penis is a pirate and I fight crime with a meat whistle sword. Who wants to pet my goat?” Dad asks.

“Oh, Jesus, you’re going to kill me,” Tyler moans.

“What are you talking about?”

Tyler stops biting his nails and begins pacing back and forth at the end of the bed.

“I need to tell you something, but you have to promise not to kill me,” Tyler begs.

“Dad, I’ll be right back,” I tell him as I get up from my chair and move around to the end of the bed, grabbing Tyler’s arm to get him to stop pacing.

“FAIRYDUST!! EVERYONE GETS FAIRYDUST!” Dad yells.

“Oh my God, this is bad. This is really bad,” Tyler mutters as he stares at my dad.

“Tyler, what the hell is your problem?”

He sighs and turns away from my dad to look at me nervously, biting his lip. “So, remember yesterday morning, naked and afraid?”

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again,” I complain.

“Yeah, well, I just now remembered why I was naked. The night before, after you passed out, I made some chocolate candies in your kitchen. And then ate one.”

I stare at him in confusion and then shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, and?”

Tyler bites his lip again and glances nervously between my dad and I.

“Shhhhhh, the puppies are making glue,” Dad warns us.

“And, um, well, they were ‘shroom chocolates.”

He looks at me worriedly and I’m still not catching on so I shrug again.

“Hence the reason for my nakedness. I was high that night,” Tyler adds.

Still not getting it, I stare at him in confusion.

“I made six chocolates and I ate one. But when I left your house that morning, there were only four chocolates left. Which means …”

I turn my face away from Tyler slowly and stare at my dad who now has his leg bent and his foot in his hand, staring at it intently.

“There’s no marshmallow in this. WHY THE FUCK ISN’T THERE ANY MARSHMALLOW? Tell the beaver to stop singing. I don’t like that song.”

Oh no. Oh my God. My dad stopped over that morning to drop off my mail.

“So yeah. I’m guessing this means your dad is tripping his balls off,” Tyler mumbles. “Hey, at least it’s not a heart attack.”

Now that I have this information, I should be a little bit relieved. I mean, Tyler’s right. At least it’s not something serious. But now I have to tell someone, like my mother. And she is going to kick my ass. I could just take this information to the grave, but I can’t let the doctors continue to test him for no reason. That’s just cruel.

“Gavin, oh my God, I got here as soon as I heard. Is your dad okay? What’s going on?”

Turning, I see Charlotte rush into the room and she throws herself in my arms. It feels so good to have her body pressed up against mine that for a minute I forget about the problem at hand. She squeezes me tightly to her, and I take a moment to just breathe her in. We haven’t spoke at all since the kiss, which is really unusual for us. We talk every single day whether it’s in person or via text. I’m not embarrassed at all by what happened between us at Fosters, but the fact that I haven’t heard from her since then makes me wonder if she is. And if she is, at least she’s able to put it aside and be here for me. At least the fact that she still cares about me hasn’t changed. But if I tell her that my dad isn’t really sick, and the reason for him being in the hospital, she’s probably going to be pissed and no longer concerned for my well-being.