Miriam was dying. It was a fact confirmed by the doctor when he spoke with Matt in the waiting room an hour and a half ago. Matt listened but refused to accept what he was being told. He stood and stared at the stranger in green that was ranting and raving about uterine cancer and the fact that it was too far gone. Too far gone. This idiot was the one that was too far gone. Nothing was wrong with Miriam. Matt turned, cutting off the doctor who was trying to be as kind as he could, and walked out of the waiting room.
Halfway down the antiseptic hallway Matt leaned against the wall and bowed his head. This can not be. He was still standing there shaking his head in disbelief when Walt got off the elevator.
"Matt, what is it? Matt?" He couldn't get an reaction and went directly to the nurses station for assistance. Together he and one of the aids got Matt back to the waiting room and onto a sofa. The duty nurse took Walt aside and recommended they get a doctor to see Matt and prescribe a sedative. He had been on the floor pacing for five hours before the doctor came to see him.
"Can you tell me what happened? What is Mrs. Rivers' condition?" Walt knew that something was horribly wrong.
The nurse told him he needed to check with the doctor. All she could tell him was that Miriam was in serious but stable condition.
"Can I see her?"
He was told he was on the visitors list Matt and Miriam had approved but would have to wait, the doctor was with her right now. Walt stood outside the door and caught the doctor as he left. He listened intently to the same message that Matt had ignored.
"Does Miriam know?"
"Mr. Johnston, Miriam is quite aware of her situation. To be honest, I'm more worried about Mr. Rivers. Granted, as I told you, her condition is terminal, but Mr. Rivers has refused to listen to anything I have to say. He is in a classic case of denial. He needs help. I can contact the resident psychiatrist."
"Let me see what I can do first. I'll have one of the nurses call if I can't get through to Matt," Walt said and then turned and walked back down the hall to the waiting room and Matt.
He sat beside Matt and hugged him. "How are you, buddy? I just got here. Didn't know anything was wrong. Why didn't you call sooner?"
Matt stiffened, then relaxed and turned to face him. "No one knew. It was just stomach cramps, nothing before. Miriam's never been sick since the chicken pox."
"And you? Are you O.K.? The doc is worried about you," Walt said lightly, probing for a reaction.
He got it. Matt's eyes glowed red in the middle of the violet and his voice was harsh. "That quack. He ought to be worrying about Miriam and taking care of her. I'm getting a specialist in here.
"Bob is just a female problem doctor. What the hell does he know about . . . cancer? He's just angling for an excuse to pull in big bucks for some unneeded surgery. I won't allow it."
"Matt, calm down." Walt hugged him again. "Bob isn't talking about doing any surgery. He's already consulted with Dr. Terrance and Dr. Jamison. You know that, don't you? He did tell you?" Walt needed to know if Matt had refused to listen or just refused to accept what he had heard.
"He told me? I . . . he said Miriam was . . . Walt!" The last was a cry of pain as Matt looked in Walt's eyes and saw he knew. Matt began to shake. He grasped Walt and sobbed. "I can't loose her. I just can't."
Walt comforted him as he poured out his fears and cursed at the trick of fate that had touched them. Matt grew steadily calmer as he cried and let the words gush. He was facing the truth, no longer running away; starting to gather the strength he would need.
The aid that had helped Walt get Matt to the waiting room stuck her head around the corner and asked if they would like some fresh coffee, staff coffee, not the junk from the vending machine.
Walt held up two fingers and mouthed the word 'black'. She returned with two steaming mugs, both inscribed in nail polish 'visitor'.
"Thanks," whispered Matt. He looked through the steam at Walt as he sipped on the coffee. "And, thanks for coming, Walt."
"What else was I suppose to do? She's my girl too. Two Kings and a Queen, she said we were." Walt was smiling with a distant look on his face, remembering that evening, the sun on the river.
A nurse came down the hall and stopped by the sofa. "Mr. Johnston?" she asked. Walt nodded. "Mrs. Rivers wants to see you."
Walt turned to Matt. "Will you be all right? Want to come with me?"
"I'm O.K. now. You go on. She asked for you. Get in there." Matt said with a faint smile.
Walt found it hard to not let his reaction show. Miriam lay within a tangle of tubes and wires. Her breathing was labored even with the oxygen mask. He reached to stop her as she lifted it off. She shook her head.
"We have to talk, Walt. Please, give me this time." Her voice was weak and weary but firm. "Stay with Matt, Walt. Give him time to get over his grief. Get him away from here. He's never going to really be happy here. He can't be himself. Love him, Walt, don't leave him again." Her hand reached out and grasped his arm.
"Take care of him. He was crushed that summer after your championship year. Matt has always loved you. He still does." A stab of pain twisted her face. She put the oxygen mask back for a few breaths. While she did she shushed Walt with her other hand. She continued. Her grip on Walt's arm tightened for an instant. "It was different with us. He loves me, now. It started as a rebound romance. Do you understand what I'm asking, Walt?" Her eyes were big and pleading.
"I never knew." Walt stood there, tears filling his eyes.
"He didn't want you to know. You know Matt. But, I have the right. I want his happiness. Do you understand, really understand, Walt? Will you do as I ask?" Her voice was now a faint whisper. Her hand fell from his arm onto the bed. She struggled and replaced the mask.
Tears of sadness and joy mingled and streamed down Walt's cheeks. He leaned down and whispered, "I promise. Never again."
Miriam seemed to take strength from his words. She reached up and hugged Walt. "Get Matt, please. I feel so tired."
Walt looked back as he opened the door.
"Keep your promise, Walt. Keep your promise." The sound was like the faint murmuring of a summer breeze. Then only the hum and beeps of the machinery around the bed could be heard.
They struggled through the funeral. Walt was Matt's strong right arm through it all. Afterwards Walt sat with Matt in the living room, answering the door and handling the visitors with their offers of condolences, casseroles and other foodstuffs. He let a few of their old teammates in to visit briefly with Matt. Everyone else he politely but firmly turned away.
It was late when Walt turned off the porch light. He urged Matt to make a drink and go to bed. Matt looked at him. "Not here, Walt. It's hard enough being in this room. I can't stand this house, our home. Everything reminds me of her. Don't ask me to go into that room, crawl into that bed." His voice cracked as he looked around. The tears started again.
Walt walked Matt out to the car and they drove to the cabin in silence. He fixed a couple of stiff drinks and then put Matt to bed. As he pulled the covers tight Matt turned and looked up. "Don't leave me alone, Walt. Please?"
Sitting on the bed Walt cradled Matt as he broke out sobbing again. He held him softly, lightly stroking his back. "It's O.K. It's O.K. Let it out, Matt," Walt said quietly over and over until Matt fell asleep in his arms.
Laying him down Walt leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Why didn't you ever tell me, damn it. What could have been . . . all the lost years." He took a blanket and stretched out on the couch in front of the fireplace. Sipping his drink he replayed that last conversation with Miriam.
In the morning Walt was domestic and strong. He woke Matt with breakfast on a tray. "You eat and rest. I'll leave a lunch you can fix quickly on the stove I'm going to the office. If there is anything critical I'll call or bring it back here tonight. Any problems you call me."
Matt seemed to hear, nodded agreement and settled back down in the bed ignoring the tray.
Two days passed with Matt drifting in and out of caring. Walt was starting to be worried. He hadn't found a bite taken out of the morning or noon meals. Matt did mess around with what was on his plate in the evening and was either drinking or poring out the fruit juices and soda pops that Walt put in the refrigerator.
On the third day Walt returned at noon to check on Matt. He found him in front of the cabin with Walt's motorcycle. He had it washed down and was waxing and polishing busily. He looked up as Walt pulled up beside the cabin and waved.
"Thought I remembered you put this in the shed back when we fixed up this place. You haven't had it out since have you? I needed something to do. Had to keep busy. You'll need to check the mechanics. I know squat about that."
Walt called the office and took off the afternoon. He changed out of his suit and tie and joined Matt working on the bike in the sun. Later Matt disappeared into the cabin and returned with two giant glasses of iced tea. They took a break sitting on the porch steps. Walt stretched out, leaning back on his elbows, watching the river flow past with the odd tree limb bobbing in the current. Sparkling breaks in the ripples were followed by slaps as fish broke the surface and dove back under the water. There were no other sounds to mar the stillness of the afternoon.
Matt's voice broke into Walt's reverie. "Thanks, friend. I couldn't have made it without you. I needed you this time -- and you came through."
Walt looked over at Matt. Matt was hugging his knees, studying his shoes. Walt put a hand on Matt's knee. "I'm here. I'll be here as long as you need me."
Matt looked into Walt's eyes, his deep purple jewels gleaming. Matt grasped Walt's hand. "I've always needed you, Walt."
Walt stared back intently as millions of unspoken words rushed back and forth between them. "I didn't know. You're good at keeping things unsaid."
Matt smiled sheepishly. "I just wanted you to love me, not hate me."
"Matt, I have never hated you. I hated myself." Walt let the light dawn within himself. It was true. He had done it all to himself. Why? He was starting to understand that now, too. "I didn't want to know myself for a long time. I'd have flashes of insight but I'm just now beginning to understand who I am."
"Who are you, Walter Larimore Johnston?"
"Who I am is a guy in love with a guy. Most likely, I have always been. I've run away from that fact ever since the night I left you alone in there." Walt gestured at the cabin behind them.
Matt beamed at Walt's confession. "Well," he said with a chuckle, "it looks like the two Kings are a pair of Queens."
"Don't talk like that. Don't make it cheap. Neither of us is a friggin' nellie queen. Neither of us even likes that kind of guy. You don't, do you?" Walt asked quickly.
"Baby, if you love me as deeply as I've loved you for over 20 years, anything is possible, but -- just between us."
Shivers ran up and down Walt's spine.
"Let's face it, Walt, we're queer for each other mind, body and soul. Every male and female aspect of your being turns me on. We better work this out right now. Talk the whole thing through. If there's a future for us, as us, I need to know now because I couldn't stand you leaving again." Matt's voice had a soft touch of his old steel.
"I'll never do that. You're not going to get rid of me unless you tell me to leave. Miriam told me how what I did hurt you."
"She did?!?" Matt looked shocked and then wonderment filled his face. "Yea, I guess she did always know me and loved me anyway." His eyes misted. He sniffed and blew his nose.
Walt stood and pulled Matt up beside him. He wiped Matt's eyes then kissed them lightly. "You're going to miss her for a long time, buddy. But, I promised her to help you through it, to love you, to get you away from here, to take you somewhere where you could be you. And damn it, Matt, that's what's going to happen."
And it did.
(But . . . that's another story.)
- o o o -
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