Page 18 of Splintered
“EEG, MRI, CAT scan. I want to get some radiographs and a full blood panel as well.” She scribbled on her notepad. “I’ll order everything today. Someone from St. Ignatius will call you Monday morning.”
“That’s the Catholic hospital, right?” Ben frowned.
“It is. I have admitting privileges there.”
“What are you checking for, Doctor?” Evan finally asked.
“I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves,” she said carefully. “And I don’t want to speculate without any information. The last thing I want to do is add any worry to your burdens. But some things I am specifically looking to rule out are tumors or lesions in the brain, some kind of traumatic injury that has been overlooked, an infection or bacteria that might be causing higher intracranial pressure buildup, or any kind of seizure disorder or epilepsy.”
Ben and Evan shared a nervous glance.
“I’ll call you as soon as I get the results,” Dr. Kao said. “Most likely on Wednesday. I’ll have a preliminary plan for you then, Evan.” Standing, she held out her hand for them both to shake. “We’ll get through this, gentlemen. I’m here to help you, however I can.”
* * *
Chapter Six
Evan spentMonday at St. Ignatius, Ben dropping him off in the morning and picking him up on his way home from teaching. Tuesday he worked out in their home gym all day. He was a sweaty, disheveled mess when Ben got home, earbuds firmly in his ears. He kissed Ben chastely, made them both dinner, and then disappeared while Ben caught up on grading. Ben found Evan in the living room, sleeping fitfully on the couch with music still pouring from his earbuds.
Wednesday evening, when Ben walked in the front door, the furious pounding of the treadmill on full blast shook the walls and ceiling. He stared upward as dread flowed into his belly. Evan usually hit the treadmill this hard after bad news.
He dumped his stuff by the front door and followed the pounding up the warped and complaining stairs. Hard rock blared from wireless speakers in their workout room, drowning Evan in noise. He ran with his eyes closed, breathing hard, sweat drenching his chest, his back, running down his legs. The miles indicator on the treadmill ticked up into the double digits. He was over half a marathon’s distance.
Ben sat at the window seat in front of Evan and waited.
Eventually, Evan’s eyes slitted open and his fuzzy gaze focused on Ben. He dialed back the treadmill, slowing to a jog, and then to a walk, and wiped his drenched face with his discarded t-shirt tossed over the side rail of the treadmill.
“Dr. Kao called,” Evan grunted. He drank from his nearly empty water bottle. “She got the test results back.”
It’s a tumor.Ben’s chest caved in, his heart flattened, his lungs congealed to goo in a moment. His knuckles squeezed the wooden frame of the window seat so hard he thought his bones would shatter, his knuckles turn to dust.
“She thinks maybe epilepsy.” Evan wouldn’t meet Ben’s gaze. He wiped his face again. “Everything else was normal. Nothing unusual. So… maybe epilepsy.” He shrugged. “I got a prescription for clonazepam. She also wanted me on an anti-depressant, too. I, uh. Don’t have health insurance anymore, so I had to pay cash.” He shrugged, and his long body loped off the treadmill. He seemed distracted, rolling his neck, his eyes narrowing and blinking as if trying to shake something off.
“Have you taken your first dose yet?”
Evan shook his head. His glistening shoulders heaved up and down. “Didn’t want to take anything alone.”
Ben held out his cast-free hand. “I’m here.”
Slowly, Evan took his hand. His skin was warm, his fingers strong. Beneath his touch, though, he trembled. From the workout, or everything else, Ben couldn’t know.
“Let me cook you dinner tonight,” Ben said softly. “Let me take care of you.”
Evan nodded, sucking down the last of his water bottle. “Meet you downstairs after my shower.”
They walked out together, splitting at the stairway as Ben headed down and Evan turned into their room. Ben stopped and watched, his eyes greedily taking in Evan’s body, tracing his muscles, his strength, the lines of his legs. His gaze roamed upward to his favorite feature: Evan’s face, his smile, his eyes—
Earbuds stuck out of Evan’s ears.
I wear earbuds because music or radio or podcasts or whatever helps keep it pushed back.
Ben’s smile vanished.
He ended up in the kitchen, pouring a glass of wine with shaking hands and downing it all at once. The shower sounded upstairs, the open and close of the glass door. He closed his eyes.We will get through this.
But to what end? Was Evan biding his time, working on his health before the move to New York? When was he supposed to go? Everything about New York was a black hole, an unspeakable presence they skirted and avoided.
What if… Ben set the wine glass down on the counter. It trembled, almost tipped over. He held it steady.
