A Note in the Margin (29 page)

“And
he just fucking walked away.”

Jamie sat and watched John as he spoke. His friend was slumped forward in the chair, hand cradling his temple and agitated fingertips pushing into his hair.

“But he nodded, right? When you asked him to come home?” Jamie asked, trying to either clarify the situation or at least John’s perception of it.

John’s hand slipped down his face and over his lips where they stayed for a moment while he thought that through. Finally he glanced up and said with little conviction, “Yeah, he nodded.”

“So why are you here with me, John?”

The question was a difficult one to answer, but ultimately John knew why. “I can’t be there alone. Not anymore.”

Please don’t give up now, John. Not when you’re so close.

The pair sat in dejected silence until John reached for his cigarette packet and lit up. He took a long draw and let the smoke drift out between his lips as he spoke. “Is it always this hard, Jamie? Or am I just the
lucky
one?”

Jamie rolled his eyes at John’s miserable sarcasm and replied, “How the fuck should I know? Serial one-night-stand guy, remember?”

“I’m starting to think you have the right idea,” John muttered, but reached out to cup the back of Jamie’s head and pull him forward to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“No chance,” Jamie denied, shaking his head. He took John’s cigarette and put it between his lips briefly before stubbing it out. “Sure, you have to fight for what you have with David; but I’d swap places with either one of you in a second. Not that I fancy you, boss, so don’t get any ideas in
that
direction.” Jamie grinned and gave John a wink.

John’s lips curled but there was no smile in his eyes. “Are you telling me to go look for him again?”

Jamie’s lips tightened in thought and he got up to empty the ashtray. With his back still turned, he let out a long sigh. “Maybe not, John.”

The answer wasn’t at all what John expected and his stomach lurched. “But you told me once to keep bringing him back. Bring him back until he stayed, you said.”

“Maybe I was wrong?” Jamie reasoned and returned to his seat. “Maybe this time is different?”

Please don’t say that, Jamie.
Cold emptiness began to fill John as he murmured, “So I just let him go?”

“
Fuck
no, John,” Jamie said and pulled him into an awkward hug. “You go home and wait for him to come home. He won’t know where you are if you’re hanging around my place.”

“And if he doesn’t come home?”

“He nodded, John. He’ll come home.”

The
streets passed unnoticed as David continued walking; he’d walked them so many times before that what was around him didn’t seem to matter. The need to move was all he felt until a fellow pedestrian grabbed his sleeve to stop him from stepping onto the busy road. “Watch where you’re going, man,” he grumbled as the traffic hurtled by. David looked up at the man and blinked before stumbling a step back. He remained standing when the light changed to green and people jostled past onto the crosswalk.

By the time the light returned to red David had moved to a nearby bus shelter to lean heavily against the metal frame.

“Excuse me. Are you all right?” The face of a young woman swam into focus in front of David. He looked at her, not able to understand why she was there; why she was talking to him.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?” She persisted, seeing that things were definitely not all right with this man. David frowned.
People don’t stop; they look away, pretend not to notice, don’t let me invade their safe warm existence.

When David didn’t answer, she took a half-filled bottle of water from her shopping bag and pressed it into his hand. “Have a drink and sit down.” She shuffled him into the bus stop and sat beside him on the bench. “Go on, take a drink,” she encouraged and reached over to unscrew the cap when David just stared at the bottle in his hand. “It’s okay; it’s only water.”

David slowly lifted the bottle of water to his lips and took a mouthful. The cool water slipped easily down his throat. He blinked and swallowed another mouthful, quenching a thirst he hadn’t realized he had. “Thank you,” he muttered, eyes still on the little plastic bottle.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Now are you all right to get where you’re going? Do you need me to call anyone?”

I don’t know….
“I’m okay, thank you,” David lied and made to give the bottle back, but she lifted her hand in protest. “You hold onto that and sit a minute,” she said, glancing at the bus pulling into the bay. “My bus is here. You sit a while, get your bearings.”

The shadow created by the bus moved away and David sat alone in the bus shelter.

John
was on his third glass of scotch by the time the sun set. The tiny apartment seemed cavernous as he sat alone on the couch. His car keys lay ready on the coffee table next to David’s sketchbook.

In the early hours of the morning John finally drifted into a drunken sleep.

Winter
nights felt very different when you were on the wrong side of the window, but David quickly fell into old survival habits. He found the deep alcove of a doorway, glanced briefly at the other man already settled in one corner. A look of resignation and a little wariness passed between them as David hunkered down opposite him. The tiled floor was cold through his jeans without a crushed cardboard box to take off the edge.

He drew up his knees, making himself as small as possible in an attempt to conserve body heat, and settled into an uncomfortable doze.

John
woke to a gentle shove and a hand offering headache tablets. He squinted against the morning light, blinking until he could make out Jamie’s silhouetted figure. He gratefully took the pills but when he reached for the dregs in the whisky glass he was stopped and Jamie said, “Not a good idea. Here, try this instead.” A glass of water replaced the whisky.

The pills were downed with a grimace of disgust and as the cold water hit his stomach, John fought an instant wave of nausea. Jamie sat and patiently waited for John to speak. Through dry lips John finally muttered bitterly, “I didn’t look for him and he didn’t come home.”

“I’m sorry, John,” Jamie answered miserably, not sure if he’d suggested the wrong thing to his friend even though it still felt right. “But I think it has to be up to David now.”

John shook his head and instantly regretted the action when the sick thump intensified. “That’s the problem though, Jamie. Is David even
capable
of sorting himself out enough to come back? I mean, you didn’t see him yesterday.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jamie started quietly. “But don’t underestimate him, John. David is not only smart, but he’s strong.” When John shot him a doubtful look Jamie stood his ground. “Think about it, John. Think about it without the hurt and without being pissed off at him—”

“I am not
pissed off
at him,” John interjected angrily.

But Jamie continued. “Of course you are; after all you’ve been through with him you have a right to be pissed off. However, right now you need to let that go and think about all the shit David has dealt with, how far he’s come. Think about the times he’s opened up to you and let you in, then tell me he’s not strong.”

It was difficult to bypass the hurt and headache, but John knew Jamie was right. “I’m still worried.” He sighed and downed the rest of the water.

“Me too,” Jamie admitted.

John
?
David stirred when someone walked past him, but as he tried to unwrap his limbs from his body the pain was instant. He groaned and moved a little slower, giving his body a chance to recover and his muscles time to warm up. When he made it to his feet the others in the alcove had already left and David looked out at the passersby, unsure what to do.

Through habit more than conscious thought, David found himself at the door of the shelter just as Barbara arrived. “Hello, David.” She smiled and pushed the door open for him. “You here for a visit or to replenish our book stock?” She kept the well-practiced smile on her face even though she could see that David didn’t quite seem to understand what she was asking. “You want to come in, luv? Maybe have a hot drink and something to eat?”

He glanced into the shelter and frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Come on then. Come in with me,” Barbara said and with a light touch guided him through to the main dining area.

Barbara watched as both his tea and breakfast remained untouched.
What’re you thinking, David?,
she pondered as he occasionally frowned in thought.
What are you working out?

He sat like that for most of the breakfast session, but as the others drifted off she noticed a slight change in his awareness of his surroundings. David was looking at the books on the shelves against the far wall or, more particularly, the elderly man straightening them up.

Barbara moved to the table and sat beside him. “The books are a huge success, you know,” she said, purposely leaving it open-ended so David could comment if he wanted to. Together they watched the man pull some tatty books from his bag and leave them propped on the section of shelf reserved for new titles. “You’ve really started something good here.” Slowly David’s eyes moved away from the shelf and settled on Barbara. “It’s a start and others are building on it,” she said and smiled at him.

“It’s a start,” he mumbled, “and that’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” Barbara confirmed and looked back at the books even though she knew that was not what they were actually talking about anymore.

They sat together like that for quite some time until David asked, “Will I ever be like I was?”

“Nobody is ever like they were, David,” Barbara said with complete honesty. David nodded, getting the answer he expected. “But if you’re asking for specifics,” Barbara continued, “things could get easier over time, although there generally isn’t some huge epiphany and everything suddenly clicks into place. Makes a great ending for a movie, but unfortunately life usually isn’t like that. Can you tell me what brought this on?”

“I thought I was doing better,” David said with a still-confused frown. “But… I dunno. It was too much and I couldn’t think. I had to be on my own to think.” He sat quietly, not yet ready to go into all the details.

“So what now, David? Right now at this point in time, what do you want to do?” Barbara understood she was pushing him to make a choice and sat ready for the fallout if he couldn’t.

“I want to go home.” The answer was spoken clearly because it was the one thing of which David was certain.

John
made it to the phone before the end of the second ring and Jamie watched anxiously as he listened to the caller, nodding occasionally. When the call ended John stood with his head bowed for a moment or two before saying, “That was Barbara; he’s at the shelter.”

“Is he okay?” Jamie asked, attempting to mask his apprehension.

John sniffed and turned around. He straightened his shoulders and said, “He wants to come home.”

“
Here
home?”

“Here home,” John confirmed with a smile that almost wasn’t a smile at all.

Jamie nodded. “Home to you,” he said, smiling, and pulled John into a hug. “But you’re still drunk and I’m driving, yeah?”

John chuckled into Jamie’s shoulder and mumbled, “Anything you say.”

The
scratchy music of the radio that had drifted slightly off its station and external traffic were the only sounds in the car. Even Jamie was quiet. John sat in the passenger seat just able to glimpse David in his peripheral vision. He could see David staring at the passing streetscape and regretted his decision not to join him in the backseat. With a tired sigh, John thought back to his quiet conversation with Barbara at the shelter.

As soon as they’d walked in, she had signaled John over, letting Jamie make his way to David.

“He wanted me to call you, John,” she said cautiously, immediately noting John’s rough state. John simply nodded and rubbed a weary hand over cheek and chin. His stubble scraped his fingers.

“Do you want to go to him or can we have a little chat first?”

“We can talk.”

Tread carefully,
Barbara warned herself, and motioned to the doorway of her office. “David had a setback,” she started and held her hand up to John when he shot her a frustrated look. “Bear with me here, John. David had a setback but—and here’s the important part—he worked his way through it.”

John gave her a curious if somewhat disbelieving look so she continued. “Something set him off and he had to walk away for a while but he
needed
to do that. I understand how hard that was on you….”

“Do you, Barbara?” John interrupted bitterly. “Do you really understand what it’s like to love someone so much and watch them run away again and again?” He knew it wasn’t Barbara’s fault. None of this was her fault, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

They sat in silence for a moment before Barbara sighed and said, “I
do,
John. I came into this job for a reason and perhaps that’s to try and help where I couldn’t before.”

John’s head fell back and he stared at the cracked cornice of the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Barb; it’s just… well, I’m not very good at this.”

Barbara smiled and reached out to rub John’s arm. “You are, John. A lot more than you give yourself credit for. And you’re allowed to be hurt and angry.”

He tilted his face toward her and smiled. Not much of a smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you,” he said softly, surprised that the acknowledgment of how he felt, and perhaps permission to feel it, actually broke down a little of the pain. “Okay. So where to now?”

“Now you need to see that David was
not
running away from you. Something, and I don’t know what, triggered a flight response, but I watched him think it through and bring himself back.” Barbara’s smile broadened. “That’s a pretty big leap forward, John.”

“Then he wanted to come home,” John said thoughtfully.

“It was the one thing he asked for.”

“Good,” John said and stood up. He pulled Barbara into a hug that lingered a little longer than that of a man confident with what was happening. “We better head home then.”

Alone
in the apartment, John wanted to talk, wanted to break the silence that was shrouding them. But he simply didn’t know what to say. He moved to the window and stared out. Jamie had parked his car and was heading down the lane to open Margins. John saw him glance up, grin, and give a small wave. A hopeful wave?

But John closed his eyes and when he opened them again his focus had shifted onto the window’s reflection of the quiet man standing watching his back.

“You keep leaving me, David,” John said, meeting those pale eyes in the glass. There was no reply. “But I didn’t go looking for you this time.”

The words were factual and spoken without bitterness. David felt a twinge of fear, but only a small one when he answered, “You didn’t need to, John.”

John nodded and turned to look directly at David. He took a deep breath, held it, and then nodded again. A wave of vertigo and nausea washed over him. John slumped none too carefully into his armchair and closed his eyes to wait for it to pass. He sat and concentrated on his breathing, barely hearing David move through the room. Nothing was said but a cool, damp cloth was placed across his forehead and his closed eyelids. Gentle fingers smoothed it; over his right temple first and then the left. John sighed and relaxed into the touch.

“Barbara explained that you weren’t running away from me,” John stated and felt the fingers falter slightly before regaining their calming rhythm.

“
Never
away from you.” The muttered reply was so quiet but contained such an intensity of purpose that John’s eyes stung with tears behind the cloth. He reached up and took David’s hand while sliding the cloth away from his eyes. “I think I want to lie down. Join me?”

With shoes kicked carelessly on the floor at the base of the bed, they lay together, close but allowing some space to breathe and talk.

“Back at the market,” David started, talking almost as if telling John a bedtime story. His voice was hushed and his eyes stared at a distant point in the ceiling. “A man approached me. A man who knew me before I met you. Except I understand now that he didn’t
really
know me at all. What he asked for I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—do.” John lay still and listened. His usual fear of David’s past wasn’t there. John listened and let himself hear it without his constant need to make things right.

“I made him leave and went to you. For the first time I started to believe there really might be a way forward, John. I think maybe that’s what scared me.”

David turned and looked at John before continuing. “Survival became a habit and all of a sudden there was so much more…. I couldn’t think.”

“I kept talking, didn’t I?” John whispered. “Going on about how good it could be? About getting you and Adam back together again?”

“Yeah,” David confirmed, but with a small smile. “I’m not who I used to be, John, and I now know I can’t be that person again.”

John turned and looked at him. “I didn’t know that person, David. But I’m slowly getting to know you.”

David nodded and smiled when John’s fingers found his. “I don’t think you’re the same person either, John.”

“That I’m not, Dave,” John said with a small grunt and wry grin.
That I’m not.

For a brief moment David’s eyes flicked away and his lips slightly tightened in thought. When he looked back, John saw something new in his demeanor.
Determination perhaps?
“There’s something else I think I’ve figured out. I think that maybe I can be Adam’s dad again.”

Oh, fuck yes.
John beamed and cupped David’s face in his hands. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“Must be a hell of a lot if you’re willing to put up with all my shit,” David muttered happily.

With a somewhat weepy laugh, John pulled him closer, only to have their embrace interrupted by the insistent chime of John’s phone. “Argghh. Perfect timing.” John groaned and rolled over to pick it up.

“Hey, John; I just called to see if you could tell Dad about my exam results.” The teenage voice was quiet but sounded pretty pleased with himself.

“Hey, Adam.” John smiled at David and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. When David held out his hand, John said happily, “How about you tell your dad instead of me?”

He handed over the phone and edged off the bed to give them some privacy.

John slumped back against the wall just outside the bedroom door and listened to the occasional taps onto the phone. He smiled and shook his head. The dull ache of his hangover still lingered but he barely noticed as he listened. Tap, tap, tap.

There was a long pause and John wondered if the call had ended. Then he heard it. Said very softly, but he could clearly make out the words: “Night, Adam.”

All the hurt suddenly welled in John’s chest and dissolved.

He looked across the room at the photo of the young John with his grandparents. He could just make out his protective stance and for the first time he questioned,
Was I protective of my gran or was I the one being protected?

John smiled and whispered. “I found him, Gran. I found the right one.”