She turned to Loren. “Even one night of sleep deprivation can mess with that brain chemistry, even
one night
. He needs to be militant about his sleep.
“No caffeine,” she went on, “since caffeine can affect your rest and cause agitation. It’s best to just cut it out entirely. And the drinking, Eliot.”
Loren saw Eliot close his eyes and tilt his head back in his chair with a sigh.
Dr. Babcock’s voice was firm as she spoke to Loren. “Alcohol can neutralize the effectiveness of his medication and could also cause liver damage, seizures, and other very nasty side effects.”
“Shit,” Loren breathed, looking at Eliot again.
“I know that drinking has gotten you through some bad times, Eliot,” Dr. Babcock said more gently, “and that there have been instances where it’s seemed to have helped you more than the wrong meds you were on. But you’ve got to stop now.”
Loren reached out and touched Eliot’s cheek, waiting until he opened his eyes and looked at him, his green eyes a little dull, a wary fear lurking in the depths.
“Hey,” Loren whispered, “I know you can do it, El.”
“The alcohol abuse recovery program in this hospital is excellent, Eliot,” Dr. Babcock said. “Take advantage of the resources you have available to you, no matter what the circumstances were that brought you here. Loren’s right, you can do it, and we’re all here to help you. Support is key, Eliot, and I can see on Loren’s face that things are going to be different now in that area.”
They spoke for several minutes about support groups and talking therapy for Eliot.
“I’m the med doctor, not the feelings or therapy doctor, and my other bipolar patients have benefited greatly by things like cognitive behavioral therapy, where you work on changing the way you look at and perceive things. I’m going to give you a couple of referrals, Eliot, and I want to encourage you both to join a support group.”
“I’ll—we’ll—do whatever it takes, Dr. Babcock,” Loren said, his voice firm.
“I’m not saying there won’t be struggles, because this is not an easy disease to manage, but it’s doable and possible with a lot of hard work and vigilance. Eliot deserves all the best things in life. He’s a wonderful person and I’m very fond of him.”
Loren could see Eliot’s face suffuse with pleasure, and Loren smiled at Dr. Babcock.
“Team Eliot all the way,” he said, somewhat facetiously, and he was delighted when she reached across the table for a fist bump.
“Okay, what other questions do you have for me, Loren?” Dr. Babcock folded her hands on top of the stack of Eliot’s charts.
Loren thought for a moment. “I guess my biggest concern right now is being able to recognize—I don’t know what else to call them except danger signs,” he said slowly. “And once I do recognize them and get concerned, what can and should I do?”
The doctor nodded. “I think I’ll let Eliot answer part of this. Eliot? Can you describe what you’re feeling when you think you’re heading up the mood scale? What can Loren watch out for? The more you learn to anticipate and recognize your own mood fluctuations, the more proactive you can be at managing them too.”
Eliot didn’t say anything at first, and Loren squeezed his hand in encouragement. “Tell me, El, so I can work with you on this.”
“The first thing I notice is lights and colors get so bright, almost painful,” Eliot whispered at last. “All the little hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle, sometimes feel like they’re standing on end.”
Loren swallowed hard, then said, “Go on.”
“Noise gets too loud, it hurts my ears and my head. My thoughts start to race, not too much at first, but enough to where it’s hard for me to sleep or think about anything specific such as remembering to eat. Then I want to talk, like the words are crowding up in my throat, and if I don’t let them out, I’ll start screaming.”
“So excessive talking is something you can watch out for, Loren, probably the first thing that you would notice,” Dr. Babcock murmured, not wanting to interrupt Eliot’s train of thought. Loren nodded, then scooted closer to Eliot, letting him feel his closeness and warmth.
“I’ll jiggle my leg or dig my nails into my palms to stop the talking,” Eliot continued hoarsely, “or sometimes, Loren, I’ll just go out and find someone to fuck.”
Loren caught his breath, and Eliot said, a note of pleading in his voice, “It’s not about the sex, it’s about—”
“It’s just another form of communication, isn’t it, Eliot?” Dr. Babcock asked. “You’re communicating with your body instead of your words.”
“Yes,” Eliot said, “and I don’t care who I do it with when I’m like that. I’ve picked up women, men, couples. Half the time I don’t remember details, just that I can go all night like the Energizer Bunny. One night—” He swallowed. “One night I found myself in an unfamiliar part of town, my shirt missing and my pants unzipped, and I don’t remember how I got there or what happened. There were scratch and bite marks on my back and neck, blood on my thighs—”
“Oh, El,” Loren said achingly, and he wrapped his arm around Eliot’s shoulders and pulled him close.
“You were very, very ill when all that happened, Eliot,” Dr. Babcock murmured. “We’re going to do everything in our power to ensure it never gets that bad again.”
Eliot stared down at his hands. “I feel so ashamed,” he whispered. “How can you want to be with me, Loren, knowing all of this?”
“Oh God.” Loren leaned over and kissed the top of Eliot’s head, saying fervently, “It wasn’t your fault, baby. You were taken advantage of in a vulnerable state, and the assholes who did that to you are the ones that should feel ashamed. Not you. Never you.”
Loren pulled Eliot into his lap, and wrapped him up in his arms. “I want to be with you because you’re you. Because you have the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever known, and you’re strong and resilient in so many ways, ways that leave me in awe.” Eliot heaved a ragged sigh, and Loren whispered, “I want to be with you because I love you, plain and simple.” He lifted Eliot’s chin and kissed him, dimly hearing the conference door open and close as Dr. Babcock left them to their moment.
“IT REALLY
is the end of an era, huh?”
Loren turned at the sound of Kai’s voice, and he gave a sad smile as Kai walked over and leaned against the wall next to him. He’d spent the day with Loren, assisting him with sorting through some last-minute stuff and helping supervise the movers who were packing the boxes and loading the van.
Loren looked around, sighing, “Yeah. When I bought the place and moved in, I never imagined I’d be leaving it someday, at least not like this. Five years, Kai, and a lot of blood, sweat, and cash went into this damn house.”
“A lot of good memories in this place,” Kai said wistfully, and Loren knew he was thinking of those nights watching football, drinking beer, talking. Sex was a part of their relationship, but overall it was a small part, and Loren missed their talks and quiet time together more than anything else.
As if reading his mind, Kai said, “No matter where our lives take us after this, Loren, I will always be here for you. You know I’m just a phone call away, right?”
“Ditto, Kai,” Loren whispered, and he brought his hand up and stroked the back of his fingers down Kai’s cheek. “You’ll always mean the world to me, you know that? Make Jeremy take good care of you, or I’ll kick his ass.”
Kai snorted and then grew serious. “We’re in a great place now, Loren, Jeremy and I. We’ll take good care of each other.”
“That’s all I need to hear,” Loren said, and he cupped the back of Kai’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Jesus, I’ll miss you. Keep in touch?”
“Always,” Kai vowed. “You’ll never get rid of me. Just try.”
Just then a deep voice drawled from the doorway, “Seems like every time I turn around, you have your hands all over my boyfriend, Smith. I’m starting to get a complex.”
Loren gave Jeremy a mock sneer, then kissed Kai on the cheek with a loud, deliberate smack before letting him go. Kai rolled his eyes at the two of them and then went into the kitchen to gather up his keys and wallet from where Loren had seen them tossed on the island.
“Everything packed up and on its way?” Jeremy asked, looking around the empty room. He was dressed in his usual running gear of black tights and a pullover Gore-Tex jacket, and Loren knew he was coming off at the very least a three-hour run. Jeremy was a dedicated long-distance runner, his body whipcord lean, his face sharp and angular. At first glance he could give off the appearance of being a severe, unapproachable cold fish, but all Kai had to do was enter the room and Jeremy seemed to light up from within, cool gray eyes turning to molten silver. Then the man was breathtaking.
“Yeah, just have some dude who’s coming to buy my bedroom set in about an hour. I want to buy new stuff down in Arizona, start over fresh.”
“You know I’m a big believer in fresh starts,” Jeremy said, and Loren nodded. He knew Jeremy’s story, how he lost his husband and surrogate baby within a month of each other around two years ago, and how he had fought his way back from crippling grief, depression, and drug addiction to rebuild his life and law practice from the ground up.
Loren was there when Kai met Jeremy purely by chance, and although they had had their share of bumps in the road, Jeremy and Kai were in a very good place now. Love and contentment radiated off the two of them, and Loren was satisfied Kai was truly happy and where he needed to be.
Kai came back in and moved to Jeremy’s side, and they all stood there for an awkward moment before Jeremy asked, “Kai said you already have a buyer for this place?”
“Yeah,” Loren replied, and he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “A friend of my brother’s on the police force. His wife just found out she’s pregnant and they want out of their apartment. The timing was perfect.”
“It’s meant to be, Loren,” Kai said. “When do you start your new job?”
“Three weeks. The background checks are done, and when I get down there, I can do the new-hire orientation and get the other bureaucratic bullshit out of the way. And then I can spend a little time with Eliot in the hospital before I get too busy.”
A troubled look crossed Kai’s face, and Loren, who knew him well, said drily, “Spit it out, Kai.”
Kai sighed and leaned against Jeremy, who wrapped his arm around his waist.
“I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”
Loren smiled. “Nothing to be worried about, Kai. There’s absolutely nothing about my new life that I’m not looking forward to with eagerness and hope.”
“Of course not,” Kai said, “but you’ve worried about me for eight years. Let me return the favor now. You know that all I want is the best for you, Loren.”
“I know, Kai. Come here and give me one last hug good-bye. I think Jeremy wants to go home and get out of those sweaty clothes.”
Jeremy shrugged, then walked over to Loren and stuck out his hand. “Take care, Loren. We’ll see you around, okay?”
They shook hands and then Jeremy tactfully went out to wait for Kai on the small front porch, giving them one last private moment together. Kai moved into Loren’s arms without hesitation and Loren pulled him close, tears stinging his eyes at how natural, how right, this had always felt.
“I wouldn’t trade these last eight years with you for anything, Kai,” he whispered. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.” Kai placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Be happy, Loren.”
They let go of each other with reluctance, and as Kai went out the door, he turned and mouthed, “I love you too,” before pulling the door closed behind him. Loren watched through the window as Kai and Jeremy walked to Kai’s Jeep arm in arm, and before long he was alone with his empty house and his memories.
THE NEXT
morning Loren hit the road in his own personal truck, heading south down the I-5 toward Phoenix and his new life. His leave-taking from his family had been pretty low-key, thank fuck. Everybody knew the value of the opportunity Loren had been given, and they were nothing but happy and supportive. He still hadn’t told them about Eliot, though, and he didn’t plan to until Eliot was released from the hospital. Loren wanted a chance to settle and reconnect before their relationship was subjected to scrutiny. Kai would be bad enough, Loren thought with a snort, warmth coursing through him at the thought of his friend and his concern.
As he drove Loren’s thoughts turned back to Eliot, and he wondered how things were going, on impulse dialing Dr. Babcock’s office to check on him. He got her answering service, and it wasn’t long before she called back. Loren tried to marshal his thoughts as they got their small talk and greetings out of the way.
“How is Eliot doing?” he asked, gripping the steering wheel as he waited for her answer. “These three weeks have been hard, not being able to talk to him.”
“I know,” Dr. Babcock replied, a thread of sympathy in her voice. “The initial intake period is always hard on everyone, families and patients. Of course you understand that it’s necessary so that the patient can settle in without distraction, but I do know it’s difficult.” She went on in brisk tones. “Eliot is doing well, for the most part. He’s had a depressive episode, but it’s been fairly mild overall, so that tells me his meds are supporting him.”
Loren tensed. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, he is.” Dr. Babcock’s voice was gentle. “You need to understand, Loren, that his brain chemistry is very fragile and always will be, that even when he’s considered stable and in remission, he’s never going to be ‘cured.’ Our goal is the best quality of life we can achieve for him, and like I said before, it’s going to take ongoing vigilance and constant support.”
“But even when he’s stable, he could still get depressed, and—and manic?” Loren swallowed hard, clenching his fingers again on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
“Yes, it’s very possible,” she replied. “What we want to avoid are the manic breaks and the resulting psychosis, Loren. All those things we talked about before, good sleep, no alcohol or caffeine, avoiding stress, will help reduce the severity and duration of any episode he has. And I have patients who have gone years without severe episodes once we’ve achieved stability. It’s possible, and there’s hope. I don’t ever want you to think there’s no hope.”