This story is written by myself for the enjoyment of the reader --yourself. The events to follow do not reflect real life, and any resemblance to anyone's real life is purely coincidental.
If reading any of this story is a violation of law in your locality, or if you're not of an age to be reading such things, please discontinue. Otherwise, enjoy!
Chapter 5 - Office Fantasy
I sit there, in my hospital bed, feeling a cold lump form in my stomach.
"What? Who?"
"MARK", Leslie said, rather firmly. "I want to know who MARK is."
"Mark," I say, stalling...hopefully not too obvious. I'm wrong.
"Yes, my PET", Leslie says. "I want to know WHO this guy is..." Now she's pacing. "...who would make you call out for HIM when you're lying there in that ICU bed. Just what happened that you felt it necessary to apologize for?!"
"For Pete's sake, Leslie, will you calm down? I have no idea what you're talking about" I tell her. Inside, my insides are knotting up, since I have a feeling I DO know.
Taking a breath, she stops pacing, comes over to me, a little calmer...almost TOO calm. "OK, Jesse, I'll grant that you were out of it, and probably have no idea of what I'm saying, so I'll fill you in on some FACTS." Now she's got her best business voice going. I can see why she's made Assistant Vice President of her division. She continues, as if giving a business presentation: a sure sign I'm in DEEP SHIT.
"When they called me and said you were here and I should come right away, I thought the worst. Then you were in a coma for almost 10 days while the subdural-hematoma was drained and healed. And THEN, when you finally are starting to come out of it, I guess you were hallucinating because you were talking, but not to me, or anyone else in the room. You said, AND I quote: 'Mark, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.' Now, Jesse, I'm trying to be rational about this, but somehow I expected you'd be apologizing to ME for OUR argument. Now what happened that you had to apologize to someone I've never heard you mention before? What happened that you hurt some stranger? WHAT?!"
Just then, my mom came rushing into the room. "For heaven's sake, Leslie! What's all this racket? You're in a hospital! And I don't need you yelling at my son!"
"Helen," Leslie bites out bitterly, "Stay out of this. This is between me and my husband." But she did lower her tone a bit.
With fire in her eyes (which is where I get it), Mom says "Fine, my dear daughter-in-law, I'll be outside!" Mom stalks out. Just what I need, a conflict between the two most important women in my life.
Turning on her heel, Leslie looks at me, hand on her hip, one eyebrow raised, waiting for my answer. Man I feel sorry for her employees under her supervision!
"Leslie, I don't KNOW why I was apologizing to him. The only Mark I know of is this guy at work, and I never did anything to apologize for. Come on, I was obviously delirious from the drugs or something!"
"Jesse, this isn't the first time. I've kept my mouth shut for the last few years, but my dear, you talk in your sleep, and if some of the things I think I heard you say are true, we have a serious problem."
You know that feeling when you get caught and you are in trouble, and your stomach is in your throat? I wish I felt that good at this moment.
"Come on, Les..." I start. She cuts me off.
"LesLIE. I've always hated it when you cut my name short." Oh great, news to me! But you know what? My German-Irish temper flares at this point. I'm in a freakin' hospital bed, being held together by stitches and bandages, and this is how I get treated? Granted, I'm no saint, but I'm not exactly healed yet!!
"Oh, well, excuse me! Listen, I am lying here half-doped up on pain meds, sore as hell, and you're sitting here asking me about something that happened while I was out it..." I stop, knowing that I sound ridiculous and even I can see I'm stalling.
"Wait a minute...what things in my sleep?" I ask.
"Jesse, if I didn't know better, I'd swear..." she stops, unable to finish her sentence, looking away.
"What? You'd swear what?" She shakes her head no. "LESLIE! WHAT?!"
"I'd swear you were a fuckin' faggot, Jess!" she bursts out. "Are you HAPPY?! Is that what you want to hear?" She turns away, crying. For my wife to use the "f" word, she's UPSET.
I sit there, completely stunned. What the HELL did I say in my sleep, and why is this coming out NOW?
"I...." I start to say, but she cuts me off again.
"Save it, Jesse" she says, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "Just save it. I've seen it for years. Every time we drive past some guy with no shirt on, I've seen you look. It doesn't take an assistant vice president to see that her husband is a fuckin' fruitcake."
I can only stare at her, mouth agape.
"I can't beLIEVE what I'm hearing!" I say. "I'm the one on drugs right now, and YOU are the delusional one!"
"Oh that's great", she says, with that laughter that isn't really laughter. "I'm the delusional one, but you're the one who's got serious mental issues.
Oh man, that's just great."
I try to say something more, to try to salvage what has become a horrible mess of things, but she cuts me off, clearly not wanting to hear from me.
"I gotta go. The kids will be home from school soon." She gets her purse and walks out, leaving me there, sweating and shaking from shock and disbelief.
Suddenly light headed, and very nauseous, I lie back, unable to stop shaking. Mom comes rushing in (where DOES she get that energy?!), instantly worried.
"Honey, what happened? Leslie just rushed past me and said 'He's all yours.' She wouldn't stop or listen to me when I tried to talk to her."
I'm unable to talk. Tears start streaming out of my eyes, down each side of my face as I stare at the ceiling. My life is over, and I'm not even 100% sure of what I did to deserve this. Oh I have an idea...she wasn't exactly wrong. I can't vouch for when I'm asleep or in a coma, but I know what my daytime thoughts are about!
Mom calms down, suddenly protective. She slides her arm under my neck and lies next to me on the bed. The familiar smells of her clothing, their house, and...the dog?...flood my senses as she pulls my head to her breast. She strokes my hair as she holds me, and for all the trouble I'm in, that wonderful embrace that I've known since the day I was born comforts me. I let loose with a flood of tears and sobs. Mom knows when I'm this upset that I cannot rationalize thought, much less control myself, so she hums softly as she holds me. I know, though, that she wants answers and wants them NOW.
When I finally calm down, she asks softly, "Jesse David, please tell me why your heart is aching, baby. What is it?"
I sit up, and take her hands in mine. "Mom? I'm not sure exactly what is going on, and I don't know what will happen next, but I have a feeling my marriage could be over." I try to refrain from crying more, and I finally swallow that brick that formed in my throat.
Mom loses a tear or two herself. "Oh, Jesse...no."
I nod. "I think that there is something that we won't be able to work out, and honestly, I'm afraid it might ruin our relationship as well."
Mom frowns, inquisitively. "Sweetheart, there is nothing in this world that could make me stop loving you."
I laugh sort of sarcastically. "Yeah, there could be." A wave of dizzyness goes through me, and I lie back. I'm barely able to keep my eyes open, both from crying and from weakness that still overtakes me. "I am so sleepy."
Mom, as anyone would, can't be kept in suspense with such information. "Jesse, please, honey, I need to know. I know you're sleepy, but I need to know."
I turn my head, and look her right in the eye. "Mom. I think I might be gay."
Mom blinks once, twice. "Wha...well...what..." She stops, speechless. "Jesse, you're married, and have kids, and..." She stops, realizing how silly her train of thought just became.
Tears start anew, and I turn away from her. She sits on my bed, silently. If thoughts were a machine, I'd hear gears a-crankin'. I close my eyes, waiting for the final blow, the one person, who I thought I could count on for life, to reject me.
Hope must have sprung eternal, for suddenly she says brightly, "Jesse, you said you THINK you MIGHT be gay. Maybe this is just a phase, or, maybe it's the accident..."
I cut her off gently. "Mom, I AM gay. I know I am. OK? I know I am."
Silence. Dead silence. Mentally crossing off my parents' home as a place of refuge, I wait for the ax to fall.
"I, uh, ahem, see."
Suddenly angry, I bite out with "See? I TOLD you."
A soft hand on my back. "Jesse, I'm sorry. This is just so...unexpected. I...you...how long have you been carrying this around?"
I turn, slowly---will my back EVER heal?--and face her. I think for a minute. "I guess I've always known. I mean, I should have realized something was up when the lifeguard at the pool did more for me than the girls in the bikinis."
Mom, being Mom, says "You mean that blonde kid that worked at that pool we went to every summer, remember how crowded it used to be and..."
I snap my fingers.."Mom...come back to reality here."
She laughs at that. "Ok, wise ass. It's just that this is just all so new to me. I mean, we wondered at one point, but then you'd come home with girls, and, well, you got married, so we figured we misread it."
Her mention of "we" suddenly makes me think of my Dad. Oh man, what's HE going to say about this?
"So?" I ask.
"So." She says. Then she gets up that German resolve and says "I told you before that nothing could ever make me stop loving you. Jesse, you are my son, my flesh and my blood, and nothing can change that. I just need....time....to get used to this. You've had YEARS. I've had 5 minutes."
I ponder that for a second. She's got a point.
"I love you, baby." she says, then comes over and holds me again.
"I love you too," as I begin crying again. I suppose I better get used to the idea of coming out to people and dealing with their reactions one at a time. The one I'm dreading is still in Clayton in his law firm office...Dad.
I fall asleep in Mom's arms, and she must have slipped out. I wake up three hours later, still feeling exhausted. I study the ceiling, wondering what the fallout of this was. First, I'm not sure what Leslie's planning on, but it doesn't sound promising. Second, maybe I should have waited on telling Mom. It may have been premature and un-necessary. No, I decide, I should have. There's no way Leslie's behavior could have gone without explanation.
And I'm tired of lying.
Just then, my phone rings. I don't have a roommate, so I reach over (ouch) and answer it.
"Hello?"
A male voice on the other end says "Hi." then silence.
"Uh, hi!" I say, unsure of to whom I'm speaking. "Can I help you?"
"Jesse, it's Mark."
I grow cold. This guy is the very reason I'm in deep shit. Did HE tell Leslie something?!
"Oh...hi." Another awkward silence.
"Ahem. I, uh, just wanted to call and see how you were doing. I saw on the news about your accident, and, well, I just...I called your boss to see where you were, and he told me you were still in the hospital."
"Oh. Yeah, I, uh, well, I'm still in physical therapy, and stuff, you know."
"Can I come see you?" he asks suddenly. Panic alarms go off big time throughout my body.
"NO! Uh, no...I am...well, I don't look so good."
Another silence. "Yeah, I remember. That's all you could worry about that night at Boxers was how you look."
Shocked, I reply "What? What do you mean?"
"Jesse, don't you remember? That's what caused that argument we had."
"Mark, I'm sorry...I just don't remember much about that night. I don't even remember driving home."
"Jesse, please. We need to talk. Can't I come up and see you?"
"Come UP? Where are you?" I ask.
"I'm in the lobby. I wanted to come up, but I thought it best if I called first."
"No, Mark, please...you can't!" I beg. Where is my mom when I need her?
"Jesse, you can't do this to me" he says, a little desperation in his voice.
"I feel like this whole thing is my fault. I need to talk to you and see that you're ok. I'm coming up."
The line goes dead. I'm about to shit in my pants, if I had pants ON to shit IN! After what seems like an eternity, a soft knock on my door. In walks that beautiful man that I had jacked off in his car...and....and what....what HAPPENED that night?
"Hi, Jesse," he says shyly. Probably hates hospitals.
"Mark, hello" I reach out to shake his hand, and he complies. "Uh, have a seat."
"Thanks" he says as he sits in the chair next to my bed. We stare at each other, waiting for the other to start.
"Look, Jesse, I'm sorry I stormed out that night. It hurt me that you think I'd be so shallow to be hung up on looks. The truth is, I DO find you attractive, no matter how you feel about yourself. I wish it wasn't so hard for you to accept that."
"Mark, I have to admit, I don't remember what was said, although, I must have had some thoughts because they said I was apologizing to you while I was delirious."
Mark smiles. Dang he is so gorgeous. My dick twitches, as if to say "here I am!"
"Wow, that says a lot, Jesse, thanks."
"So," I say, "Why do you feel like this could be your fault?"
"Well, if I hadn't gotten so worked up and tried LISTENING to you instead of judging you as I felt you were doing to me, maybe we'd have stayed and had a drink, or gone back to my place, or something. Why did you go to the office, anyway?"
"What?! I went to the office? How do you know that?"
Mark sighs. "Well, after I left you at the bar, I went driving for a bit, then about 9:30 or so, I went down to work because I had gotten a page that our application went down. Since I was almost downtown anyway, I decided to go there to fix the problem. I saw your name on the sign-in sheet at the guard's desk by the parking garage."
"Oh." I said...marveling at what I could possibly be doing there. "I don't remember being there."
"Well, I thought maybe you still might be in your office, so I went back in to your building and as I was entering the elevator lobby on 4, out walks Vic and this young guy. I went up to 15 but it was empty, so I figured I missed you. Do you remember seeing Vic that night?"
"Vic? At 9:30 at night?! He's a contractor, so I'm not sure what HE'd be doing there." I say.
"Well, anyway, I just feel like if I hadn't left you, maybe you wouldn't have been on your way home when that asshole escapee crossed the median." He stops, looks down, a tear or two falling.
"Mark, you can't be responsible for things you can't control, man." Whoa, where did I hear those words? Oh yeah..Dad. A surge of adrenaline shoots through me as I realize he's going to have to find out what I told Mom sooner or later.
"Well, maybe not. I see what you mean. Jesse, I'm sorry I stormed out, though, and I'd just like to get to know you more and maybe see where life takes us."
"Mark, I'm married" I say, twisting that knife in my heart a little deeper in. "And so are YOU."
Mark snorts. "Married? Yeah, I'm married to a two-timing ho who things it's ok to fuck my brother."
Wide-eyed, I just stare, unsure of how to respond to that. Finally, I find my voice, but not fast enough. "Mark, I'm so sorry...I can't imagine..."
He cuts me off. "Yeah, well, don't be too sorry. I think I know why she did it. She needs a MAN, not some fairy!" The words hurt...big time...but of course he's talking about himself, not me. He doesn't know MY problem yet.
"Mark, you're not a fairy. You...we...just prefer guys, that's all."
"Yeah, well, I don't need a PhD to see that. I've always been attracted to guys...just never acted or could accept it. You know what she said to me? She said "I'm fucking other men, just like YOU have been." A tear forms and falls down that smooth cheek. He sighs, then chuckles half-heartedly. "That hurt big time, but then I met you, and suddenly, it all made sense. Ironic thing is, I'd only jacked with other guys. I never felt safe, until that day in the garage."
"Mark, I..." I didn't know what to say to him. "Things are messed up right now for me, too. I just don't know what I can..." I stop, unable to finish.
Mark gets up and walks over to me. "I know. I'm not asking you to leave your wife. I not asking you to make me your lover. I want to be your friend, and for you to be mine, and if anything develops, it does." He leans over me, and kisses my cheek.
"Well, well..." says a voice from the doorway...an all too FAMILIAR voice. "Let me guess...this must be MARK." Filled with dread, I look slowly toward the door, as does Mark. There's my wife, hands on hips, fire in her eyes, and if looks could kill...I'd be 6 feet under.
To be continued...
Be patient...if you're looking for sex, it could be in a chapter in the near future. But I think you'd agree that Jesse wouldn't exactly be "in the mood" right now. :-)