"Coup de Foudre" 101
From Justin's notebook.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
Justin’s Notebook: Brian Back Home, Day 2
So far, so good?
I hope.
Michael came over today to hang out with Brian. He brought some movies and video games and we ordered pizza. It went pretty well. First we played Pong. Talk about a blast from the past! Michael and I played first, letting Brian watch what we were doing. Of course, Gus kept saying, “This is lame! This is so stupid!” That is, until he started playing with Michael and getting his ass kicked. Then he really wanted to win. Typical.
Then Michael played with Brian. It took a while for Brian to get the hang of it. We were all kind of holding our breath, waiting for Brian to get frustrated, or angry, or whatever - but he didn’t. He kept squinting at the screen and then at the control stick, unable to coordinate what he was seeing with what his hand was doing. But then he got it. It’s like something kicked in and then he was okay. Michael was sort of letting him get points at first, but then they were really playing. Gus was saying, “Come on, Dad! You can beat him!” and Brian really was doing it. He missed a lot, but he also hit more and more the longer he played.
I think Michael has the right idea. These games like Pong are pretty simple, but that’s the point. Brian doesn’t need to think about anything except hitting the ball back and forth. Hand and eye coordination. And he seemed to get more confident the more he played. That was the best thing.
After we’d played for a while the pizza came. Carmel insisted on serving it to us before she went back into her room to watch her telenovelas. “Next time you come over, Mr. Michael, you bring your husband and I’ll cook for you all,” she said. Carmel obviously doesn’t approve of any food in the house that she didn’t make. She and Deb are like two peas in a pod about that.
“That would be great,” Michael told her.
“Tell her to make carnitas,” said Gus. “They’re the best.”
Carmel was basking in all the praise.
Meanwhile, Brian was not really eating much of anything. He’d take a bite of pizza, then a little salad, then another bite of pizza, then he’d just watch everyone else eat. This is beginning to worry me because he lost weight in the hospital and can’t afford to lose any more.
Michael noticed it, too, because before he left he took me aside and asked about it. I was honest with him and he could see that I’m very concerned.
“Let Ma bring some food over. I know Brian’s housekeeper won’t like it, but…”
I stopped him. “It’s not the food. It doesn’t matter if Carmel makes it, or Deb, or it’s pizza delivered on a silver platter. It was the same way in the hospital. He has no appetite. Until he gets that back, he’s not going to eat.”
“Then what do we do?”
“I don’t know. Just keep trying, I guess.”
“Maybe if I bring over some…” Michael looked around like he thought Gus might be listening, but Gus was in the TV room with Brian, watching the end of the Marx Brothers movie. “Weed.”
I’d thought of that, too, but I don’t want Brian it start up any of his old Brian habits - at least not until he’s better. He hasn’t smoked since the accident, or had a drink, or done any drugs except the ones the docs prescribed. They warned me about keeping him away from alcohol, which might interact with his meds, and also about anything that might be over-stimulating, like just about any of Brian’s favorite drugs, including poppers. But maybe a joint might not hurt, especially if it gives him the munchies.
Note to call Alex Wilder and ask him what he thinks.
“Can you get some?” I asked, even though I know scoring marijuana isn’t something Michael is in the habit of doing. Back in the day it was Brian who bought the dope and then they’d smoke it together.
“How hard can it be? Every kid who walks into my store probably knows exactly where to go.”
“Jesus!” I said. “Don’t ask kids who come into the store where you can buy weed! You’ll end up on some scuzzball alert list. If Dr. Wilder says it’s okay, I’ll find some for Brian.”
Before Michael left he asked Gus to talk to him for a couple of minutes and they went out on the back deck. The movie had finished, so I asked Brian if he wanted to watch something else, maybe some TV? But he just shrugged. I turned on the news and he stared at that for a while. Then Michael came in to say goodbye.
Gus came in and sat down next to Brian on the big sofa, completely ignoring me, of course, the way he’d been doing all evening. “Hey, Dad. Michael asked me if I could help out at his store in the afternoon, but that I had to ask you first. I want to do it. No offense to Kinnetik, but it’ll be more fun to work at a comic book store. Is it okay with you?”
Brian looked at Gus and it gave me the shivers because he looked so blank, like he was hearing the words, but nothing was registering. “Huh?”
“The comic book store. Can I work there? Carmel can drive me over after lunch and then Michael said he’d take me home in time for dinner. Okay?”
“Sure,” said Brian. “If you’re with Michael it’s all right.”
“It should be fun!” Then Gus started rambling on about the comic books and how he was going to help Michael with inventory and how Michael promised to give him free comic books and all that. And Brian nodded and nodded, but he was just vegged out. Luckily, Gus didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s getting late,” I said finally. “I think we all should get to bed.”
Gus glared at me, but he didn’t argue. It was obvious that Brian was exhausted. But then came the tricky part. I had to get Brian into bed and then go into my own room for the night or else Gus was going to have a shit fit. But I also knew Brian wanted me to sleep with him. So it was going to be a problem.
Gus followed me and Brian upstairs and stood in the doorway while I got Brian undressed and into bed. He was practically falling asleep anyway, so I thought it would be easy to get him settled and then go into my own room.
Except Brian wasn’t having it. He grabbed my arm and kept pulling me onto the bed - all while Gus was standing there, seething.
Finally, I said to Gus, “Look, Brian needs me in here. Whether you like it or not, I have to be here in case he needs anything.”
“Because you want to be in here!” Gus snapped.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I do want to be here with Brian. And Brian wants me here. That should be enough. This isn’t about me and it sure isn’t about you. You want me to sleep on the floor? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t give a damn. But Brian wants me with him. And whether you like it or not, that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“You’re just taking advantage of him!” Gus retorted. “That’s what you do! You’re a fucking weasel!”
And that’s when Brian suddenly sat up and said, in a perfectly clear and coherent voice, “Gus, go to bed! And shut the door behind you!”
“But, Dad!”
“I said go to bed. This is none of your business.” Brian blinked a couple of times, like he was trying to focus his eyes. “I’m tired. So fucking tired. Justin, turn off the lights, okay?”
“Okay, Brian. Go to sleep.”
Gus stood in the doorway for a moment, then he turned and ran down the hallway to his own room, slamming the door behind him. I thought about going after him, trying to talk to him, but I thought I’d only make things worse. By the time I got undressed, went to the bathroom, and got into bed, Brian was out like a light, snoring lightly.
So I got out my notebook and updated this - the end of Brian’s second day at home. Dr. Peretti wasn’t kidding when she said this was going to be a long haul. I feel as exhausted as Brian. But at least now Gus will get out of the house for a couple of hours every day. That should be good for all of us.
Gus’s attitude is going to be a major problem. I’ll have to ask Alex Wilder about that family counseling. We might be needing it sooner than later. Either that or a large mallet to knock him out for days at a time.
But Brian - I just really love him so much. And sometimes I feel so worried and helpless I think I’m going to scream. It makes me think about when I was just out of the hospital and Brian came to take me back to the loft to stay with him. And he was so great to me. I realize that now. So patient, even when I was a sick brat and had headaches and nightmares and tantrums and was terrified of the entire fucking world. The only place I felt safe was in the loft. In Brian’s bed. But even then I wouldn’t let him fuck me. He could touch me - he was the only one - but… I just couldn’t do any more than that. I seriously thought I’d never make love again and that made me want to fucking die!
Yeah, eventually things got better and I tried to forget all my trauma, but I never got over it, I only pretended that I did. That Pink Posse shit! That was part of it all. And Ethan, too. And the go go boy thing with the Sap. God that was so long ago! All the mistakes I made make me embarrassed now. How many times did I lash out at Brian? How many times did I want to hurt him because I wanted so much to hurt myself? I pushed and pushed and pushed. And he always took me back. Always. He always loved me. Too bad it took me so damned long to understand just how much.
Brian is sniffing in his sleep. His eyelids twitching.
I wonder if he dreams about Ron? I wonder how often he thinks about him?
I know it’s wrong to be jealous of a dead person, but I am. I can never let Brian know just how jealous I am. I have no right to be jealous. Ron stepped up when I went on my merry fucking way, leaving Brian alone again. Taking him for granted. It seems like Ron never made that mistake. I guess he had his faults, plenty of them from what I’ve heard, but he loved Brian. And he loved Gus. And they loved him. Which means I’m going to have to work all that much harder to prove I can be what Brian needs. And I have to be patient with Gus, even when I want to kick him in his smug little ass. Because he’s hurting, too. He’s scared and guilty and he’s only a kid. He lost one father and then almost lost another. I know I acted out, too, when I was his age, but it’s hard not to want to blow up at him.
That’s enough for now. Tomorrow I have to start all over again and so does Brian. Fucking baby steps.
And Sunday we’re all going to Deb’s for dinner. That should be another crazy scene, but it’s necessary. Something like normal. Even though everything in the world right now is far, far, far from normal.
Maybe it’ll never be normal again.
I just don’t have any fucking idea.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, July 2016
Justin’s Notebook: Brian Back Home, Day 2
So far, so good?
I hope.
Michael came over today to hang out with Brian. He brought some movies and video games and we ordered pizza. It went pretty well. First we played Pong. Talk about a blast from the past! Michael and I played first, letting Brian watch what we were doing. Of course, Gus kept saying, “This is lame! This is so stupid!” That is, until he started playing with Michael and getting his ass kicked. Then he really wanted to win. Typical.
Then Michael played with Brian. It took a while for Brian to get the hang of it. We were all kind of holding our breath, waiting for Brian to get frustrated, or angry, or whatever - but he didn’t. He kept squinting at the screen and then at the control stick, unable to coordinate what he was seeing with what his hand was doing. But then he got it. It’s like something kicked in and then he was okay. Michael was sort of letting him get points at first, but then they were really playing. Gus was saying, “Come on, Dad! You can beat him!” and Brian really was doing it. He missed a lot, but he also hit more and more the longer he played.
I think Michael has the right idea. These games like Pong are pretty simple, but that’s the point. Brian doesn’t need to think about anything except hitting the ball back and forth. Hand and eye coordination. And he seemed to get more confident the more he played. That was the best thing.
After we’d played for a while the pizza came. Carmel insisted on serving it to us before she went back into her room to watch her telenovelas. “Next time you come over, Mr. Michael, you bring your husband and I’ll cook for you all,” she said. Carmel obviously doesn’t approve of any food in the house that she didn’t make. She and Deb are like two peas in a pod about that.
“That would be great,” Michael told her.
“Tell her to make carnitas,” said Gus. “They’re the best.”
Carmel was basking in all the praise.
Meanwhile, Brian was not really eating much of anything. He’d take a bite of pizza, then a little salad, then another bite of pizza, then he’d just watch everyone else eat. This is beginning to worry me because he lost weight in the hospital and can’t afford to lose any more.
Michael noticed it, too, because before he left he took me aside and asked about it. I was honest with him and he could see that I’m very concerned.
“Let Ma bring some food over. I know Brian’s housekeeper won’t like it, but…”
I stopped him. “It’s not the food. It doesn’t matter if Carmel makes it, or Deb, or it’s pizza delivered on a silver platter. It was the same way in the hospital. He has no appetite. Until he gets that back, he’s not going to eat.”
“Then what do we do?”
“I don’t know. Just keep trying, I guess.”
“Maybe if I bring over some…” Michael looked around like he thought Gus might be listening, but Gus was in the TV room with Brian, watching the end of the Marx Brothers movie. “Weed.”
I’d thought of that, too, but I don’t want Brian it start up any of his old Brian habits - at least not until he’s better. He hasn’t smoked since the accident, or had a drink, or done any drugs except the ones the docs prescribed. They warned me about keeping him away from alcohol, which might interact with his meds, and also about anything that might be over-stimulating, like just about any of Brian’s favorite drugs, including poppers. But maybe a joint might not hurt, especially if it gives him the munchies.
Note to call Alex Wilder and ask him what he thinks.
“Can you get some?” I asked, even though I know scoring marijuana isn’t something Michael is in the habit of doing. Back in the day it was Brian who bought the dope and then they’d smoke it together.
“How hard can it be? Every kid who walks into my store probably knows exactly where to go.”
“Jesus!” I said. “Don’t ask kids who come into the store where you can buy weed! You’ll end up on some scuzzball alert list. If Dr. Wilder says it’s okay, I’ll find some for Brian.”
Before Michael left he asked Gus to talk to him for a couple of minutes and they went out on the back deck. The movie had finished, so I asked Brian if he wanted to watch something else, maybe some TV? But he just shrugged. I turned on the news and he stared at that for a while. Then Michael came in to say goodbye.
Gus came in and sat down next to Brian on the big sofa, completely ignoring me, of course, the way he’d been doing all evening. “Hey, Dad. Michael asked me if I could help out at his store in the afternoon, but that I had to ask you first. I want to do it. No offense to Kinnetik, but it’ll be more fun to work at a comic book store. Is it okay with you?”
Brian looked at Gus and it gave me the shivers because he looked so blank, like he was hearing the words, but nothing was registering. “Huh?”
“The comic book store. Can I work there? Carmel can drive me over after lunch and then Michael said he’d take me home in time for dinner. Okay?”
“Sure,” said Brian. “If you’re with Michael it’s all right.”
“It should be fun!” Then Gus started rambling on about the comic books and how he was going to help Michael with inventory and how Michael promised to give him free comic books and all that. And Brian nodded and nodded, but he was just vegged out. Luckily, Gus didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s getting late,” I said finally. “I think we all should get to bed.”
Gus glared at me, but he didn’t argue. It was obvious that Brian was exhausted. But then came the tricky part. I had to get Brian into bed and then go into my own room for the night or else Gus was going to have a shit fit. But I also knew Brian wanted me to sleep with him. So it was going to be a problem.
Gus followed me and Brian upstairs and stood in the doorway while I got Brian undressed and into bed. He was practically falling asleep anyway, so I thought it would be easy to get him settled and then go into my own room.
Except Brian wasn’t having it. He grabbed my arm and kept pulling me onto the bed - all while Gus was standing there, seething.
Finally, I said to Gus, “Look, Brian needs me in here. Whether you like it or not, I have to be here in case he needs anything.”
“Because you want to be in here!” Gus snapped.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I do want to be here with Brian. And Brian wants me here. That should be enough. This isn’t about me and it sure isn’t about you. You want me to sleep on the floor? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t give a damn. But Brian wants me with him. And whether you like it or not, that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“You’re just taking advantage of him!” Gus retorted. “That’s what you do! You’re a fucking weasel!”
And that’s when Brian suddenly sat up and said, in a perfectly clear and coherent voice, “Gus, go to bed! And shut the door behind you!”
“But, Dad!”
“I said go to bed. This is none of your business.” Brian blinked a couple of times, like he was trying to focus his eyes. “I’m tired. So fucking tired. Justin, turn off the lights, okay?”
“Okay, Brian. Go to sleep.”
Gus stood in the doorway for a moment, then he turned and ran down the hallway to his own room, slamming the door behind him. I thought about going after him, trying to talk to him, but I thought I’d only make things worse. By the time I got undressed, went to the bathroom, and got into bed, Brian was out like a light, snoring lightly.
So I got out my notebook and updated this - the end of Brian’s second day at home. Dr. Peretti wasn’t kidding when she said this was going to be a long haul. I feel as exhausted as Brian. But at least now Gus will get out of the house for a couple of hours every day. That should be good for all of us.
Gus’s attitude is going to be a major problem. I’ll have to ask Alex Wilder about that family counseling. We might be needing it sooner than later. Either that or a large mallet to knock him out for days at a time.
But Brian - I just really love him so much. And sometimes I feel so worried and helpless I think I’m going to scream. It makes me think about when I was just out of the hospital and Brian came to take me back to the loft to stay with him. And he was so great to me. I realize that now. So patient, even when I was a sick brat and had headaches and nightmares and tantrums and was terrified of the entire fucking world. The only place I felt safe was in the loft. In Brian’s bed. But even then I wouldn’t let him fuck me. He could touch me - he was the only one - but… I just couldn’t do any more than that. I seriously thought I’d never make love again and that made me want to fucking die!
Yeah, eventually things got better and I tried to forget all my trauma, but I never got over it, I only pretended that I did. That Pink Posse shit! That was part of it all. And Ethan, too. And the go go boy thing with the Sap. God that was so long ago! All the mistakes I made make me embarrassed now. How many times did I lash out at Brian? How many times did I want to hurt him because I wanted so much to hurt myself? I pushed and pushed and pushed. And he always took me back. Always. He always loved me. Too bad it took me so damned long to understand just how much.
Brian is sniffing in his sleep. His eyelids twitching.
I wonder if he dreams about Ron? I wonder how often he thinks about him?
I know it’s wrong to be jealous of a dead person, but I am. I can never let Brian know just how jealous I am. I have no right to be jealous. Ron stepped up when I went on my merry fucking way, leaving Brian alone again. Taking him for granted. It seems like Ron never made that mistake. I guess he had his faults, plenty of them from what I’ve heard, but he loved Brian. And he loved Gus. And they loved him. Which means I’m going to have to work all that much harder to prove I can be what Brian needs. And I have to be patient with Gus, even when I want to kick him in his smug little ass. Because he’s hurting, too. He’s scared and guilty and he’s only a kid. He lost one father and then almost lost another. I know I acted out, too, when I was his age, but it’s hard not to want to blow up at him.
That’s enough for now. Tomorrow I have to start all over again and so does Brian. Fucking baby steps.
And Sunday we’re all going to Deb’s for dinner. That should be another crazy scene, but it’s necessary. Something like normal. Even though everything in the world right now is far, far, far from normal.
Maybe it’ll never be normal again.
I just don’t have any fucking idea.