"Coup de Foudre" 86
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
“Ted,” said Cynthia, poking her head into his office first thing Monday morning. As usual she was perfectly turned out in a dark pink suit, her blonde hair expertly fluffed, but there were shadows under her blue eyes. “Meeting this afternoon at 2:00 sharp. In Brian’s conference room. Okay?”
Ted had barely gotten his briefcase open and he badly needed a cup of coffee. Or five. “If this is about those specs for the Dandy Lube account, I haven’t had a chance to finish them yet. Blake and I were at the hospital until late last night and…”
“It’s not about Dandy Lube,” said Cynthia. “It’s about Brian. And bring his personal file.”
“But…” Ted was taken aback. “What about Brian?”
Cynthia gave him her most serious ‘boss’ look. “Be there at 2:00. This is important.”
Now Ted really needed that coffee. He’d hardly slept all weekend and he wasn’t ready to deal with any more Brian trouble.
He’d driven back and forth between his condo and the hospital, and then between the hospital and Brian’s rental, and then between Brian’s rental and Debbie and Carl’s house, and then between the hospital and Michael and Ben’s place, and between the rehab center where Blake was on duty and the hospital, again. And, finally, home. But only for a few hours, because then he had to come to work.
“Oh, Bri,” Ted sighed. “I wish you were here, chewing me a new asshole and telling me what a loser I am, instead of in that fucking hospital bed.”
He took out Brian’s file and laid it on the desk. So many documents and such a potential legalistic mess. Brian’s personal financial records, his documents for Kinnetik, papers relating to Gus, others relating to Ron, and added to those, Justin’s stash, including the old medical proxy and power of attorney that Justin hoped would keep Mrs. Kinney and her brood from zooming down on top of Brian like the Flying Monkeys from ‘The Wizard of Oz.’
This would all be moot if Brian would only wake up. At least Ted hoped it would be moot. It had been 48 hours since they induced Brian’s coma and it should be time for the doctors to be bringing him out of it.
“But we must be cautious,” warned Dr. Sun, the neurologist handling Brian’s treatment. “The swelling in his brain has been reduced, but he is still in very serious condition.”
“I thought he’d be waking up by now!” Michael had said. “I need to talk to him. I need to make sure he’s okay!”
“That’s what we all want,” said Dr. Sun patiently. “But we must proceed at the pace of healing. You cannot rush the brain, especially an injured brain. Have you ever heard of Shaken Baby Syndrome?”
“I have,” Carl offered. “I arrested a perp once. A guy picked up his girlfriend’s kid when he was high and shook it to stop it from crying.”
Dr. Sun raised an eyebrow. “And what happened to the child?”
Carl looked very uncomfortable, like he was sorry he’d spoken. “The baby died. We booked the perp on manslaughter charges and he went away for 10 years.”
“Just so,” Dr. Sun nodded. “Mr. Kinney’s head hit the hard pavement and his brain was shaken like that small baby’s. Luckily, he was wearing a helmet, which absorbed much of the shock. I do not use that analogy to frighten you all, but to emphasize the grave nature of this injury.”
Dr. Sun may not have meant to frighten them - they were all scared shitless already - but the thought of Brian Kinney’s brain rattling around in his head like a pea inside a gourd was not a promising one. Michael was quickly losing it, while Deb’s mood swung from upbeat to weepy in moments, and poor Gus still seemed to be in shock. And throughout it all Justin remained stoic - and in charge. Ted wasn’t sure when it had happened, when the little twink they all condescended to had become a man, but it was true. In the years that Brian was in Los Angeles and Justin was out of their sight, he’d grown up. Underneath he might be cracking up, but in public, in his dealings with the doctors and nurses, he was steady and forthright. He’d told Ted that his main desire was to take care of Brian and that’s what he was doing.
Ted worked on the Dandy Lube account all morning, grabbed a quick salad from the break room for lunch, and at 2:00 he was in Brian’s conference room. Present was the core Kinnetik Team: Cynthia, the Office Manager; John, the Creative Director and Senior Account Manager; Bob Murphy, the Senior Art Director; Danielle Harrison, the Sales and Marketing Manager; and last, but far from least, Theodore Schmidt, Senior Accountant. The only person missing was Brian A. Kinney, Founder and CEO of Kinnetik, Inc. And he was the one they all wished were there.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard about Brian’s accident,” Cynthia began. “This meeting is to clarify the situation and answer all your questions, as well as make some decisions of how to proceed while Brian is recovering.”
Cynthia briefed them on the accident, asking for Ted’s input to fill in the blanks. She assured them that the doctors said Brian would be out of the hospital and back to normal… eventually. That made everyone very nervous. It was one thing to run Kinnetik with Brian in Los Angeles and just a Skype connection away, but a Brian who was less than 100% physically and mentally was a real concern. Brian was not only the leader of Kinnetik, he was the face of the agency, its image and symbol. Without him there would be no company… and then what would they do?
“The best thing is not to panic,” said John. “We will carry on as we have always done and wait for Brian to come back up to snuff.”
“But when will that be?” asked Murph. “The clients will want to know who’s in charge. And the people in my department - the rumors are already running rampant. They’re afraid for their jobs and I don’t blame them. I’ve worked with Brian since we were at Vangard and he’s gone through a lot of ups and downs, but this is something else. This is really serious. What if he can’t come back to work? I notice that Justin Taylor didn’t come in this morning. He had a bad brain injury a while ago and I know it took him a long time before he was back to normal. I’d like to hear from him.”
“Justin is at the hospital with Brian,” said Ted. “He was with him when he had the accident. So was Brian’s son, Gus.”
“I knew they were getting together,” commented Danielle. “Everyone’s been gossiping about it. Tell us the truth, Cynthia - was Brian drunk or high? And what about Justin Taylor?”
“Brian was not drunk or high,” Cynthia said firmly. “I talked to his neurologist about two hours ago for his prognosis. And Justin wasn’t on the motorcycle. It was a freak accident. Brian wasn’t even going very fast. It happened in front of his house - the bike hit something and spun out, that’s what the police think. So don’t be making the circumstances of this accident worse than they were. No one was at fault. Yes, Brian and Justin are having a relationship, but you, Murph, know the history behind that. They’ve been together on and off for years, even before Brian met Ron, so this is not some tawdry office fuck.”
“Yeah,” said Murph. “Weren’t they supposed to get married or something?”
Ted nodded. “They called it off because…” Ted hesitated, unsure of how much to share. “Justin got an opportunity in New York and Brian wanted him to take it. But Justin is stepping up now. He’s there at the hospital, making sure Brian’s okay. I know that for certain.”
“So is Justin on leave, too?” asked Murph. “What about the Bonevil campaign? Larry Ramson is going to want to know what’s going to happen with it.”
“The new Bonevil campaign will proceed as scheduled. That’s what Brian would want,” said John. “He would never expect this business to be disrupted on his account. Mr. Taylor will contribute what he can, when he can, I’m sure. But for now I agree with Mr. Schmidt that Brian requires him the most at this moment. I’m certain we can all step into the breach as needed. Am I correct?”
There was some grumbling, mainly from Murph and Danielle, but in the end they all agreed. What else could they do? This was an unfortunate circumstance and they’d all have to adjust - everyone working at Kinnetik would have to. They also agreed that the details of Brian’s injury were not to be the business of the entire office - or the clients. Brian had been in an accident and he’d be out recovering for an unspecified time. That’s all anyone needed to know. And anyone requiring - or insisting on - further information was to be directed to Cynthia. She’d deal with them promptly. And that included gossip about Brian - or about Justin.
“I will update you all as soon as there are further developments,” said Cynthia. “I hope to visit Brian later this week and discuss a few things with him. But not until he’s feeling better. His doctor will keep me in the loop. Thank you all for coming.”
As they all got up to leave, Cynthia signaled for Ted to stay. He had Brian’s folder in front of him, but she hadn’t referred to it in the meeting. Now, apparently, was the time.
“Is this all the stuff?” Cynthia paged through the documents.
“Everything I know about,” said Ted. “He has a lawyer out in L.A., but you have his number.”
“Yes, I spoke to him,” said Cynthia. “And the man who drew up the documents for Brian and Justin before their commitment ceremony. He didn’t remember much - that was over ten years ago - but he said that they were the best he could offer Brian at the time. And I spoke to Kinnetik’s attorney. He’d like to look these over before he makes a judgment.”
“Are they good?” asked Ted. “I mean, are these health care proxies legal?”
Cynthia shrugged. “I don’t know. With Ron dead, Gus is Brian’s next of kin. But he’s a minor, which leaves Mrs. Kinney and Brian’s sister.”
“And he specifically states that he doesn’t want either of them to have any say in his care!” said Ted. “That must count for something.”
“I know.” Cynthia frowned. “But they could make a case that they’re not estranged from Brian, mainly based on the fact that he’s been supporting them all these years. You know that, you’ve been sending them the checks.”
Ted cringed. “True. But it’s more like payoff money than support. Money for them to keep as far away from Brian as possible.”
“That mother!” said Cynthia. “No wonder poor Brian is so screwed up! Do you remember the time she came to the office and stared telling Brian to repent or some such nonsense? I thought Brian was going to throw her out the window. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so upset.”
“Yeah, that’s when she found out he had cancer,” Ted added. “I think she came to gloat.”
“That’s terrible!” said Cynthia. “And what is even more terrible is that the attorney wants me to call and tell her that Brian’s in the hospital. And he wants me to do it today.”
Ted almost choked. “You can’t! That’s exactly what Justin’s been trying to avoid - the last thing Brian would want!”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” said Cynthia. “But if we don’t contact her then Kinnetik could be held liable. The attorney pointed out that until all these documents are vetted, Mrs. Kinney and her daughter are still legally Brian’s next of kin, especially since Gus is a minor.”
“Jesus,” said Ted. “What a fucking mess!” He pictured Mrs. Kinney showing up in the ICU, maybe with a priest in tow - perhaps even one Brian had fucked in the distant past - and demanding to see her son. Tangling with Justin. Or Michael. Or Debbie. Or all of them at once. The entire gang would probably be banned from Allegheny General, all while Brian was comatose. Unless the commotion were to wake him up! Well, stranger things had happened - and Ted still remembered coming into consciousness after his drug overdose to the sounds of Brian fucking a studly intern in the other bed in his room.
“You said it,” Cynthia agreed. She closed the folder and tucked it under her arm as she prepared to leave. “I’ll have these sent over to the law office as soon as possible. Maybe they can come up with a decent strategy - at least until Brian wakes up."
Until Brian wakes up.
“Listen, Cynthia,” said Ted. “Do you think you could hold off calling Mrs. Kinney. I mean just for today. What would it hurt if you waited until tomorrow morning? Or for 24 hours?”
Cynthia gazed at Ted coolly. “You mean have it slip my mind?”
“You never told John and the others that Brian is in an induced coma,” said Ted. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want them to assume the worst,” Cynthia confessed.
Ted smiled. “Then you’ll agree that a little omission isn’t a bad thing - if it’s done with a good purpose, right? And making poor old Mrs. Kinney worry about her son in a coma is actually a good thing. The shock wouldn’t be good for the old lady. But if you wait until tomorrow…”
“Then Brian might be awake. Or at least waking up. And he can tell the doctors exactly what his wishes are.” Cynthia said as she weighed her options.
“You don’t want a scene in the ICU, do you? And Justin would be in the middle of it,” said Ted. “You don’t want a helpless Brian to be the center of some tug-of-war between the religious nutcases and the fags?”
“No, I don’t want that.” Cynthia sighed. “I owe Brian my entire career. I guess protecting him is the least I can do.”
“It’s what we’re all trying to do,” Ted confirmed.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait until tomorrow afternoon. But I’m going to be on the phone to Justin and that doctor to find out what’s happening, because I can’t wait too long.”
“I understand,” said Ted. “Thanks, Cynthia.”
Cynthia smiled. “Brian has a good friend in you, Theodore.”
“I know. Who would have ever thought?” Ted said. “Because I owe my career to Brian, too. We all seem to owe a lot to someone who has always claimed that he never does anything for anyone, that he lives by the code of selfish self-interest.”
“That’s bullshit and always has been,” said Cynthia. “And even Brian knows that. If he can remember it when he wakes up. I hope he does.”
“I hope so, too,” said Ted. “I hope he remembers everything - for his sake and everyone else’s. But especially for Justin and Gus.”
Pittsburgh, July 2016
“Ted,” said Cynthia, poking her head into his office first thing Monday morning. As usual she was perfectly turned out in a dark pink suit, her blonde hair expertly fluffed, but there were shadows under her blue eyes. “Meeting this afternoon at 2:00 sharp. In Brian’s conference room. Okay?”
Ted had barely gotten his briefcase open and he badly needed a cup of coffee. Or five. “If this is about those specs for the Dandy Lube account, I haven’t had a chance to finish them yet. Blake and I were at the hospital until late last night and…”
“It’s not about Dandy Lube,” said Cynthia. “It’s about Brian. And bring his personal file.”
“But…” Ted was taken aback. “What about Brian?”
Cynthia gave him her most serious ‘boss’ look. “Be there at 2:00. This is important.”
Now Ted really needed that coffee. He’d hardly slept all weekend and he wasn’t ready to deal with any more Brian trouble.
He’d driven back and forth between his condo and the hospital, and then between the hospital and Brian’s rental, and then between Brian’s rental and Debbie and Carl’s house, and then between the hospital and Michael and Ben’s place, and between the rehab center where Blake was on duty and the hospital, again. And, finally, home. But only for a few hours, because then he had to come to work.
“Oh, Bri,” Ted sighed. “I wish you were here, chewing me a new asshole and telling me what a loser I am, instead of in that fucking hospital bed.”
He took out Brian’s file and laid it on the desk. So many documents and such a potential legalistic mess. Brian’s personal financial records, his documents for Kinnetik, papers relating to Gus, others relating to Ron, and added to those, Justin’s stash, including the old medical proxy and power of attorney that Justin hoped would keep Mrs. Kinney and her brood from zooming down on top of Brian like the Flying Monkeys from ‘The Wizard of Oz.’
This would all be moot if Brian would only wake up. At least Ted hoped it would be moot. It had been 48 hours since they induced Brian’s coma and it should be time for the doctors to be bringing him out of it.
“But we must be cautious,” warned Dr. Sun, the neurologist handling Brian’s treatment. “The swelling in his brain has been reduced, but he is still in very serious condition.”
“I thought he’d be waking up by now!” Michael had said. “I need to talk to him. I need to make sure he’s okay!”
“That’s what we all want,” said Dr. Sun patiently. “But we must proceed at the pace of healing. You cannot rush the brain, especially an injured brain. Have you ever heard of Shaken Baby Syndrome?”
“I have,” Carl offered. “I arrested a perp once. A guy picked up his girlfriend’s kid when he was high and shook it to stop it from crying.”
Dr. Sun raised an eyebrow. “And what happened to the child?”
Carl looked very uncomfortable, like he was sorry he’d spoken. “The baby died. We booked the perp on manslaughter charges and he went away for 10 years.”
“Just so,” Dr. Sun nodded. “Mr. Kinney’s head hit the hard pavement and his brain was shaken like that small baby’s. Luckily, he was wearing a helmet, which absorbed much of the shock. I do not use that analogy to frighten you all, but to emphasize the grave nature of this injury.”
Dr. Sun may not have meant to frighten them - they were all scared shitless already - but the thought of Brian Kinney’s brain rattling around in his head like a pea inside a gourd was not a promising one. Michael was quickly losing it, while Deb’s mood swung from upbeat to weepy in moments, and poor Gus still seemed to be in shock. And throughout it all Justin remained stoic - and in charge. Ted wasn’t sure when it had happened, when the little twink they all condescended to had become a man, but it was true. In the years that Brian was in Los Angeles and Justin was out of their sight, he’d grown up. Underneath he might be cracking up, but in public, in his dealings with the doctors and nurses, he was steady and forthright. He’d told Ted that his main desire was to take care of Brian and that’s what he was doing.
Ted worked on the Dandy Lube account all morning, grabbed a quick salad from the break room for lunch, and at 2:00 he was in Brian’s conference room. Present was the core Kinnetik Team: Cynthia, the Office Manager; John, the Creative Director and Senior Account Manager; Bob Murphy, the Senior Art Director; Danielle Harrison, the Sales and Marketing Manager; and last, but far from least, Theodore Schmidt, Senior Accountant. The only person missing was Brian A. Kinney, Founder and CEO of Kinnetik, Inc. And he was the one they all wished were there.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard about Brian’s accident,” Cynthia began. “This meeting is to clarify the situation and answer all your questions, as well as make some decisions of how to proceed while Brian is recovering.”
Cynthia briefed them on the accident, asking for Ted’s input to fill in the blanks. She assured them that the doctors said Brian would be out of the hospital and back to normal… eventually. That made everyone very nervous. It was one thing to run Kinnetik with Brian in Los Angeles and just a Skype connection away, but a Brian who was less than 100% physically and mentally was a real concern. Brian was not only the leader of Kinnetik, he was the face of the agency, its image and symbol. Without him there would be no company… and then what would they do?
“The best thing is not to panic,” said John. “We will carry on as we have always done and wait for Brian to come back up to snuff.”
“But when will that be?” asked Murph. “The clients will want to know who’s in charge. And the people in my department - the rumors are already running rampant. They’re afraid for their jobs and I don’t blame them. I’ve worked with Brian since we were at Vangard and he’s gone through a lot of ups and downs, but this is something else. This is really serious. What if he can’t come back to work? I notice that Justin Taylor didn’t come in this morning. He had a bad brain injury a while ago and I know it took him a long time before he was back to normal. I’d like to hear from him.”
“Justin is at the hospital with Brian,” said Ted. “He was with him when he had the accident. So was Brian’s son, Gus.”
“I knew they were getting together,” commented Danielle. “Everyone’s been gossiping about it. Tell us the truth, Cynthia - was Brian drunk or high? And what about Justin Taylor?”
“Brian was not drunk or high,” Cynthia said firmly. “I talked to his neurologist about two hours ago for his prognosis. And Justin wasn’t on the motorcycle. It was a freak accident. Brian wasn’t even going very fast. It happened in front of his house - the bike hit something and spun out, that’s what the police think. So don’t be making the circumstances of this accident worse than they were. No one was at fault. Yes, Brian and Justin are having a relationship, but you, Murph, know the history behind that. They’ve been together on and off for years, even before Brian met Ron, so this is not some tawdry office fuck.”
“Yeah,” said Murph. “Weren’t they supposed to get married or something?”
Ted nodded. “They called it off because…” Ted hesitated, unsure of how much to share. “Justin got an opportunity in New York and Brian wanted him to take it. But Justin is stepping up now. He’s there at the hospital, making sure Brian’s okay. I know that for certain.”
“So is Justin on leave, too?” asked Murph. “What about the Bonevil campaign? Larry Ramson is going to want to know what’s going to happen with it.”
“The new Bonevil campaign will proceed as scheduled. That’s what Brian would want,” said John. “He would never expect this business to be disrupted on his account. Mr. Taylor will contribute what he can, when he can, I’m sure. But for now I agree with Mr. Schmidt that Brian requires him the most at this moment. I’m certain we can all step into the breach as needed. Am I correct?”
There was some grumbling, mainly from Murph and Danielle, but in the end they all agreed. What else could they do? This was an unfortunate circumstance and they’d all have to adjust - everyone working at Kinnetik would have to. They also agreed that the details of Brian’s injury were not to be the business of the entire office - or the clients. Brian had been in an accident and he’d be out recovering for an unspecified time. That’s all anyone needed to know. And anyone requiring - or insisting on - further information was to be directed to Cynthia. She’d deal with them promptly. And that included gossip about Brian - or about Justin.
“I will update you all as soon as there are further developments,” said Cynthia. “I hope to visit Brian later this week and discuss a few things with him. But not until he’s feeling better. His doctor will keep me in the loop. Thank you all for coming.”
As they all got up to leave, Cynthia signaled for Ted to stay. He had Brian’s folder in front of him, but she hadn’t referred to it in the meeting. Now, apparently, was the time.
“Is this all the stuff?” Cynthia paged through the documents.
“Everything I know about,” said Ted. “He has a lawyer out in L.A., but you have his number.”
“Yes, I spoke to him,” said Cynthia. “And the man who drew up the documents for Brian and Justin before their commitment ceremony. He didn’t remember much - that was over ten years ago - but he said that they were the best he could offer Brian at the time. And I spoke to Kinnetik’s attorney. He’d like to look these over before he makes a judgment.”
“Are they good?” asked Ted. “I mean, are these health care proxies legal?”
Cynthia shrugged. “I don’t know. With Ron dead, Gus is Brian’s next of kin. But he’s a minor, which leaves Mrs. Kinney and Brian’s sister.”
“And he specifically states that he doesn’t want either of them to have any say in his care!” said Ted. “That must count for something.”
“I know.” Cynthia frowned. “But they could make a case that they’re not estranged from Brian, mainly based on the fact that he’s been supporting them all these years. You know that, you’ve been sending them the checks.”
Ted cringed. “True. But it’s more like payoff money than support. Money for them to keep as far away from Brian as possible.”
“That mother!” said Cynthia. “No wonder poor Brian is so screwed up! Do you remember the time she came to the office and stared telling Brian to repent or some such nonsense? I thought Brian was going to throw her out the window. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so upset.”
“Yeah, that’s when she found out he had cancer,” Ted added. “I think she came to gloat.”
“That’s terrible!” said Cynthia. “And what is even more terrible is that the attorney wants me to call and tell her that Brian’s in the hospital. And he wants me to do it today.”
Ted almost choked. “You can’t! That’s exactly what Justin’s been trying to avoid - the last thing Brian would want!”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” said Cynthia. “But if we don’t contact her then Kinnetik could be held liable. The attorney pointed out that until all these documents are vetted, Mrs. Kinney and her daughter are still legally Brian’s next of kin, especially since Gus is a minor.”
“Jesus,” said Ted. “What a fucking mess!” He pictured Mrs. Kinney showing up in the ICU, maybe with a priest in tow - perhaps even one Brian had fucked in the distant past - and demanding to see her son. Tangling with Justin. Or Michael. Or Debbie. Or all of them at once. The entire gang would probably be banned from Allegheny General, all while Brian was comatose. Unless the commotion were to wake him up! Well, stranger things had happened - and Ted still remembered coming into consciousness after his drug overdose to the sounds of Brian fucking a studly intern in the other bed in his room.
“You said it,” Cynthia agreed. She closed the folder and tucked it under her arm as she prepared to leave. “I’ll have these sent over to the law office as soon as possible. Maybe they can come up with a decent strategy - at least until Brian wakes up."
Until Brian wakes up.
“Listen, Cynthia,” said Ted. “Do you think you could hold off calling Mrs. Kinney. I mean just for today. What would it hurt if you waited until tomorrow morning? Or for 24 hours?”
Cynthia gazed at Ted coolly. “You mean have it slip my mind?”
“You never told John and the others that Brian is in an induced coma,” said Ted. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want them to assume the worst,” Cynthia confessed.
Ted smiled. “Then you’ll agree that a little omission isn’t a bad thing - if it’s done with a good purpose, right? And making poor old Mrs. Kinney worry about her son in a coma is actually a good thing. The shock wouldn’t be good for the old lady. But if you wait until tomorrow…”
“Then Brian might be awake. Or at least waking up. And he can tell the doctors exactly what his wishes are.” Cynthia said as she weighed her options.
“You don’t want a scene in the ICU, do you? And Justin would be in the middle of it,” said Ted. “You don’t want a helpless Brian to be the center of some tug-of-war between the religious nutcases and the fags?”
“No, I don’t want that.” Cynthia sighed. “I owe Brian my entire career. I guess protecting him is the least I can do.”
“It’s what we’re all trying to do,” Ted confirmed.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait until tomorrow afternoon. But I’m going to be on the phone to Justin and that doctor to find out what’s happening, because I can’t wait too long.”
“I understand,” said Ted. “Thanks, Cynthia.”
Cynthia smiled. “Brian has a good friend in you, Theodore.”
“I know. Who would have ever thought?” Ted said. “Because I owe my career to Brian, too. We all seem to owe a lot to someone who has always claimed that he never does anything for anyone, that he lives by the code of selfish self-interest.”
“That’s bullshit and always has been,” said Cynthia. “And even Brian knows that. If he can remember it when he wakes up. I hope he does.”
“I hope so, too,” said Ted. “I hope he remembers everything - for his sake and everyone else’s. But especially for Justin and Gus.”