A White Coat Is My Closet (51 page)

F
OUR
hours later, Sergio was stable enough to be transferred to a private room. In recovery, he had opened his eyes briefly, seemed to recognize me as I pushed his hair off his forehead, but then he’d quickly fallen back to sleep. He barely even budged when they moved him from the gurney to the bed, and seeing him so unresponsive, I again had to force myself to choke down a foreboding sense of panic.

For the first several hours he was in his room, I was a sentry at his bedside. The nurse came in and out frequently, and though he never came fully awake, Sergio started to mumble when she checked his blood pressure and confirmed there was no excessive seepage from his wounds. She also observed that the drainage from his chest tube had already begun to decrease. She was encouraged that by every objective criterion, he was making impressive progress.

Though intellectually I knew her assessment was probably accurate, I also knew that deep within my heart, I wouldn’t breathe a full sigh of relief until Sergio was once again up and about and propagating jubilant chaos in the lives of those he cared about. Despite being confident he was indeed stable, I still couldn’t prevent myself from keeping a vigilant eye on the monitors above his bed. Even their continuous demonstration of a strong regular heart rate didn’t completely curb my anxiety. I willed him to be awake, to look at me, to assure me he had not only survived his ordeal but that he’d come through it without permanent damage.

There was a small sofa in Sergio’s room. Declan had fallen asleep on one end, and Diane had fallen asleep leaning against his shoulder. Looking at them caused me to appreciate how truly fortunate I was. Here were my two best friends in the world, strangers to one another, but united in their support of me. I watched them sleep and noticed how their breathing was in perfect sync. In that moment I made a pledge to myself to begin working to better integrate all the important people in my life. It was also in that moment I knew I would be able to call my parents and feel no trepidation about telling them I was gay. There would be no more secrets, particularly among the people I loved.

I pushed both of them lightly on the shoulder and coaxed them gently awake. “You guys go get some sleep. You’re both exhausted. Sergio’s likely to sleep most of the morning. I’ll call you immediately if there’s any change.”

As they slowly opened their eyes, they both began to protest. “We’re fine, Zack. We were just resting our eyes.”

Despite my own exhaustion, I had to laugh. They both said essentially the same thing almost simultaneously. Maybe my two best friends were more alike than even I realized.

“Really! I insist. There’s no way I’m going to leave here until Sergio himself kicks me out. Then, when that happens, I’m gonna want to be sure one of you is close at hand. It would be better for the two of you to go rest up. Right now we’re in a waiting game. Part of the team has to conserve its energy.”

Neither of them would be easily convinced. Diane was the first to protest. “I agree. But the one who should be conserving their energy is you. You just said Sergio is likely to remain asleep for the next several hours. You should go sleep now so you will be more awake when he really comes around.”

Declan’s agreement followed in short order. “She’s absolutely correct, Zack. You haven’t slept at all. I was snug in my bed until Diane called me at four thirty. I slept most of the night. I’m as fresh as a daisy. You go get some sleep in that call room I’ve heard so much about. Keep your phone by the bed. I’ll call you if Sergio should so much as fart.”

Their allegiance and concern for me was touching. Because they had both sat up, they’d left a few inches between them on the couch. I wedged myself into it and threw my arms around both their shoulders. “Dec, I don’t think there’s a day in your life when you’ve been fresh as a daisy, and if any farting occurs in here, I’ll know you’re the culprit. Don’t blame your rancid intestinal tract on Sergio just because he can’t defend himself.” I squeezed them both more tightly. “I’ll make you guys a deal. We’ll take shifts. But don’t ask me to leave now. I just can’t. You guys go get some rest but come back and check on us in a couple hours. I’ll stretch out here on the couch. I’ll sleep too. But this way, if Sergio wakes up, I’ll be right here.”

Neither of them seemed completely convinced, but they reluctantly agreed because they knew I wouldn’t be dissuaded.

Declan stood and reached for Diane’s hand to help pull her up. “Okay, Zack. You win. But one of us will be back in two hours, and then we’ll drag your ass out of here kicking and screaming if we have to. We both know how grumpy you get when you’re sleep deprived. We’ll be doing Sergio a favor.”

I hugged them both. “You guys are the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I pulled back and unintentionally let the corners of my mouth slip up into a wisp of a smile. “I would say I’m forever in your debt, but I know how screwed that would leave me. For now, I’ll just leave you with the irrevocable guarantee that I’ll love you both forever.”

Diane smiled and hugged me again. “I think I’d rather have the big-screen TV, but if love is your final offer, I guess I’ll take it.”

Declan then pushed me toward the couch. “Okay, Zack, but we’re not going to leave until we see you lying down. You’ll probably be asleep before your head hits the back cushion.”

“All right already. I’m lying down. Look.” I moved one of the cushions to create a pillow, lay down sideways on the couch, and drew my knees toward my chest. “Satisfied? As cozy as a baby in a manger. Now get the hell out of here so I can sleep.”

They slowly walked out of the room but continued to look over their shoulders. “We’ll see you in two hours,” Declan said. “Don’t snore.”

I waited for five minutes after the door shut to make sure one of them didn’t poke their head back in, then got up, pulled the chair over to the edge of Sergio’s bed, then sat down and laced my fingers through his.

I awakened to the sensation of fingers being run through my hair. Because it felt good, I kept my head buried in the edge of the mattress until I remembered where I was, then lifted it with a start. Sergio’s head remained cradled in his pillow, but he had turned it to face me and his free hand was resting on the top of my head. I took it and gently placed it against my cheek. I stared in his eyes intently but for a moment didn’t trust myself to speak. The last thing I wanted to do was to panic him by breaking into tears. “Hey, babe.” I intentionally chose the term of endearment he had referred to me by in the early weeks of our relationship. It still carried special significance because I still remembered how elated I had felt the first time he used it. “How are you feeling?”

“My chest feels like I was hit by a bus. What happened?” The words came out scratchy and hoarse, but though it obviously took a concerted effort to speak, he sounded stronger than I would have anticipated. “Why am I in a hospital bed, and why are you drooling on my sheets?”

It was impossible to contain my emotions any longer. Hearing his voice and recognizing that even in his confusion, he still had his sense of humor, I was overwhelmed. I used the back of his hand to wipe a few tears off my cheek, but the smile that suddenly found itself plastered across my face felt like the most genuine I had ever had. “You had a kind of a rough day yesterday. When you’re a little better rested, I’ll tell you a little about it. In the meantime, can I just say that I’ve never in my life been so happy to wake up next to you?”

For a brief instant it was obvious he was trying to put the pieces of the last day together in his head, but fatigue overtook him and he slowly closed his eyes. “I’m looking forward to hearing the story. If your smile is any indication, I must be great in bed.” He tightened the grip on my hand, but mere seconds later he was again snoring softly and his fingers relaxed.

I, on the other hand, didn’t have the slightest inclination to release his hand. I kept our fingers intertwined and used my free hand to gently stroke his arm. I whispered softly, though I knew he was already asleep, the words were more for my benefit than his, “Yeah, you’re great, all right, Sergio. Greater than I ever dreamed possible. Thanks for deciding to give me another chance.”

The nurse came in an hour later, and this time when she took his blood pressure, Sergio opened his eyes and kept them open. He again rolled his head over to look at me but didn’t immediately try to speak. His expression indicated he was still trying to make sense of the situation. He released his free hand from my grip and reached up and felt the bandages that covered his chest. He registered brief panic, but I could see him quickly tamp down any fear he felt. He experimented with trying to take a deep breath, and though I could tell it must have been pretty uncomfortable, he seemed satisfied by proving to himself his body was at least still functioning.

It was obvious he was completely bewildered by the situation he was waking up to, but, as was typical of Sergio, he never wanted to give the impression of seeming vulnerable. “The service in this place is horrible. What does a guy have to do to get a drink of water?”

Because his comment was followed instantaneously by his unassuming smile, the nurse took no offense. Besides, she knew from our previous conversation in the wee hours of the morning that Sergio worked in a restaurant. Without missing a beat, she replied jokingly, “Maybe if you tipped better, you’d get better service. When I get back, there had better be a least a Lincoln on that tray table. Then we’ll talk service.” Her smile softened. “It’s good to see you awake, Mr. Quartulli. How are you feeling?”

Sergio pushed his head more deeply into the pillow and let his gaze roam across the ceiling, as if trying to find the words to explain how he was feeling, then experimented with taking a few more deep breaths. “I feel like someone put a harpoon through my chest.” He then looked back and forth between me and the nurse to see which one of us would confirm his suspicion.

I again grabbed his free hand and held it against my chest. “You’re close. You got mugged last night, and sometime during the process, you ended up getting shot. You gave us quite a scare, but we’re now absolutely certain that you’ll recover completely.” I intentionally tried to sound as confident and optimistic as possible.

His expression reverted to one of confusion and concern. “I don’t remember anything.” He again pulled his hand free from mine and rested it over his bandage. He seemed relieved that he could feel his chest expand against his fingers when he breathed. Satisfied, he turned back to me and again reached for my hand. “Are you sure I’m going to be okay? It hurts like hell.”

I couldn’t help letting a soft chuckle escape. “I’m sure it hurts, babe. You’ve only been out of surgery for about seven hours. They had to fish a bullet out of your chest. You’re not made of steel, you know. You have to expect it will hurt like a son of a bitch for at least a couple of days.” I drew his hand up to my lips and gave it a gentle kiss. “The important thing is that you’re here to complain about it and I’m here to listen.”

Sergio looked appreciatively into my eyes for several seconds. I knew he’d have a ton more questions, but for now he seemed content in the knowledge that despite being shot, he was going to be okay.

When I kissed his hand again, he seemed to suddenly become aware that the nurse was still in the room. Knowing how anxious I was about giving anyone a reason to suspect I was gay, Sergio instinctively tried to free his hand from mine. In response, I just held him tighter and pulled his hand back against my cheek.

“I’m staying right here, Sergio. Now you’re stuck with me. The bullet that almost killed you ended up freeing me. No more hiding. I love you. The one thing this experience has taught me is that life is short. Too short to spend even one second denying who you are and being ashamed of whom you love. Life is a gift. Love is a gift. They should both be cherished and savored with exuberant pride.” I gave his hand another squeeze and gave his fingers an additional gentle kiss. “If you’re willing, I’m hoping you’d like to continue to spend this part of our lives together.”

Sergio smiled and then winked at the nurse. “I’ll be damned, Zack. If I didn’t know better I’d say you just participated in a public display of affection. Are you sure you weren’t the one who was shot?” His smile broadened, and then, with only a small grimace of pain, he pulled my hand over to his lips so he could return the kiss. “Maybe you weren’t aware, Zack, but that’s been my plan since the first month we met. I was just waiting for you to be brought up to speed.”

I swallowed and willed the lump in my throat to disappear. “Thanks for being patient, Sergio. In case you haven’t noticed, I can be a little slow sometimes.”

Sergio smiled again. “You’re not slow, babe. You were just running against your own clock. I always knew where the race would end. As long as we were running together, I figured we had all the time in the world.”

“Yeah. All the time in the world if you promise not throw yourself in front of any more bullets.”

“It’s a deal. You keep a hold of my hand, and I’ll try to keep myself out of trouble.”

It was obvious our brief conversation had drained what little energy Sergio had, because his eyelids again began to droop. “I’ve gotta to rest a few minutes. Stay with me, okay, Zack?”

“Always, Sergio. Always. You can bet on it.” He was asleep before the last word even escaped my lips.

The nurse checked the IV line, then gave me an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Dr. McClure and another friend of yours came by about an hour ago. You were both asleep, so I shooed them away. I told them I’d call them when you were awake.”

“Thanks, Arriana. I so appreciate it. But do me a favor. Give me another hour. They’re just trying to take care of me, but if they hear that Sergio is awake and speaking, they’ll try their damnedest to drag me out of here.”

“Will do, Dr. Sheldon. I’ll try not to let them by me for at least a couple more hours. But only if you promise me to try to get a little more sleep. As you can see, your partner is doing fine. Now you need to take care of yourself.”