Page 2 of Let Leaves Lay Where They Fall

“Oh please!” Jamie chuckles. “That’s not happening.”

“Those trails were always ripe with hairy little otters and big hungry bears hunting for prey.” Fond recollections distract him for a moment. “I’m sure it’s still the same.” He bites his lip.

Jamie is used to friends mocking his sparse sexual history and air of monogamous superiority. He’s tragically reserved, for a gay man. He knows it. The teasing is endearing. “Are people still doing that?” He plays naïve. “Don’t they just use the apps now?” He has a profile on Gaydr but as a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic with less than a handful of devastating past relationships, particularly the last nightmare, he hasn’t bothered dating in years. Single life keeps the peace. The dick pics are a naughty bit of fun though.

Andrew pulls a tan corduroy jacket with chocolate suede elbow patches from the rack next to the door. Twirls it around his body and slides both arms into its sleeves. “O honey. People will always be doing THAT any way they can.” He flutters his eyelashes and kisses the air. Slipping out the door, pulling it closed behind.

“Have a good day!” Jamie cheers through the old hollow plaster wall.

“You too! Don’t behave!” Andrew’s giggles descend the stairwell with his footsteps.

Jamie dumps the last of his coffee down the drain and washes the two mugs before heading back to his bedroom. He gathers the dirty clothes hamper and carries it to the hall. A bifold closet conceals a stackable washer and dryer set. He tosses the load in. Leaving the hamper next to the machines as a reminder to finish the chore later.

Back in his room, humming the dance riff about an off-limits lover the crew danced to last night, he paws through a dresser, pulling together the day's outfit. His favorite blue jeans, a white tee and an orange knit sweater with rolled hems. He tosses the clothes onto the bed, strips down naked and swipes up the towel hung behind the door. Adding the just shed clothes to the washer, bebopping his way across the hall.

The large circular mirror mounted above a pedestal sink, reflects the doe-eyed portrait of an aging man looking back at him. Stick straight sandy blonde hair, starting to recede, poking up at his crown and sweeping flat across his forehead. He tousles the mop with a squiggly rake of fingers. Smile lines crinkle edges. Full bowed lips pucker as he vices both cheeks in his palms. A disheartening sigh drains his chest.

He piles a rainbow toothbrush with minty paste and scrubs his teeth, turning the shower spigot to start the flow. It takes a bit longer than usual when competing for hot water with the washing machine. The laundry should have waited until after the shower.

Once the steam is climbing over the grayscale abstract floral curtain, he steps in.

Chapter 2

Nathan

“Ava Smith?” The stocky nurse with a mop of black curls and unruly facial scruff calls out over a waiting room scattered with eager patients gawking back at him, all hoping to be called next.

A plump woman with almond brown hair spilling out of a rushed ponytail stands and ushers the tiny girl at her side to follow. Wrapped in a baby pink puffer jacket with dark circles under sleepy eyes, the child melts off the seat and mopes behind.

The tall fancy brunette fidgeting in the front row of chairs with swollen lips bursting from injections gone bad, grumbles and glares at the nurse. He had scanned the charts before deciding on the most urgent from a backlog of patients. Sick child before pouting princess.

Nathan loves working in these small community health clinics. They tend to cater to people who don’t have access to regular physicians. Occasionally those with privilege still pop in expecting special treatment that they’re so used to. She makes her way to the reception desk to ask how much longer her wait will be.

He guides the poor child and her guardian through double security doors into the express care treatment gallery. “Hop up on that bed Ava, My name’s Nathan.” Coating his tone with sugary sweetness, pulling a curtain around them for privacy away from the large open clinic floor. “Tell me what’s going on?”

Ava stares at her feet, burrowing under the arm of the woman sweeping frazzled hairs off her sticky forehead.

“She’s running a fever and can’t keep anything down.” The concerned guardian says.

“I’m so sorry! Let us see if we can’t figure this out and get you feeling better. Go ahead and take your coat off for me?” Nathan pulls a blood pressure cuff from the rolling cart, wraps it around the little girl’s arm and attaches a pulse monitor to her index finger. He holds a thermometer to her forehead and records the numbers onto a computer tablet. “Are you Mom?” He looks up at the woman who nods yes in response, and back to the shy child, finally making eye contact. Nathan tries to soften his face. “How long have you been feeling yucky?”

“She came down with it late Friday night. So, it’s been all weekend now.” The mom answers. “We were hoping it would work itself out, but she seems even worse today than yesterday.” She places a hand over the child’s burning forehead and wipes a thumb across her brow.

“It’s that season.” Nathan double pats the bed with a palm. “Lay back onto the pillow Eva. Let’s get a blanket over you while we wait for the Doctor. Would you like some apple juice or water?”

“Apple juice.” Her little voice scratches. “Please.” Forcing a smile.

“Mom?” Nathan looks to the exhausted woman.

“Nothing for me, thank you.”

“Okay. You both sit tight. I’ll grab your apple juice.” Nathan struts to the nurses’ station at the center of the gallery. He pulls a juice box from the mini fridge underneath the counter and grabs a little blue teddy bear from a box of toys kept for entertaining kids.

The little girl’s eyes light up when she sees the toy. “The Doctor will be with you in just a bit, this is Teddy, he’ll keep you both company until then.”

Ava hugs the bear close to her cheek. Mom pokes a little plastic straw into the juice box and holds it to the child’s dry lips. “Thank you.” She forces a sleepy smile. Ava winces as the cold fluid hits her burning throat.

Nathan draws the curtain shut and leaves them to wait. Returning to the double doors, he pauses for a deep breath and pushes through. “Genevieve Anderson?” Scanning the room, pretending he doesn’t know who he’s calling for.

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