What's Left Unsaid
What's Left Unsaid copyright 2012 comidacomida
Paul awoke in the morning with Tanner's arm still draped across him. In the first few moments of opening his eyes the young man found a strange juxtaposition, almost enough to make him dizzy as he realized the combination of the old room of his old life with the presence of his new boyfriend. It only lasted a moment, however, because a cold nose touched the back of his neck, "Morning." Tanner spoke quietly, and pulled him a little closer, "Alarm not go off?"
"It's six." the human replied, followed by a soft sigh, "Alarm is set for six thirty." he squirmed in Tanner's grasp to reach the alarm clock on the night stand.
"It doesn't feel like six." the Dog replied, releasing Paul before letting out a yawn. The young man moved to the edge of the bed and looked back to his lover. Tanner smiled, ears raised slightly, "Getting up?"
"Yea." Paul nodded, "I want to take a shower before I go to the hospital."
"I know what'cha mean." Tanner nodded thoughtfully, "I'll let you take one first... I don't think your mom's ready for the two of us sharing a shower."
"Ya think?" despite himself, Paul couldn't smirk at the humor of it.
"I'm more worried about Becca, to be honest." Tanner offered in a far-too-innocent a tone.
"Think she'd freak out?" Paul questioned, "Or have way too many questions?"
"Neither." Tanner noted, crawling back under the covers, "I'd be worried she'd have cameras going from all angles so she could sell it on the net."
"You're HORRIBLE." Paul objected, blushing just a little.
"She's worse." Tanner argued, rolling over until he disappeared beneath the blankets, nothing but a large lump beneath the bedding, "Lemme know when you're out."
"My family already knows you're my boyfriend," Paul noted as he gathered clothing and a towel, "I'm not sure how much more 'out' I can--"
"Out of the SHOWER, Paul." the Dog noted with mock frustration, though the sound of his tail thumping under the blankets revealed his acknowledgement of the humor.
"I won't be long." Paul promised, heading out of the room and closing the door softly behind himself. He tip-toed down the hall to the bathroom at the end and let himself in. Paul set everything on the counter then paused. Having lived in the house with two sisters for far too many years to realize that there was one more step to getting ready for a shower; he locked the bathroom door.
Closing himself into his own little world, Paul took a long, hot shower. He realized that his sisters would both be up by seven-- Becca first and Kimmy second. Sliding the thoughts from his mind, the young man simply reveled in the simplicity of water, cleanliness, and warmth. As far as Paul was concerned, for that stretch of time, the bathroom was his sanctuary-- right up until the firm pounding on the bathroom door, "BREAKFAST!" Becca's unmistakable announcement put an end to his fragile serenity.
"Okay..." he mumbled.
"PAUL CHARLES MILLER!" Rebecca shouted again, "BREAKFAST IS READY!"
"OKAY!" Paul roared.
"Geez..." he heard her faintly through the door, "you don't have to yell." he could practically SEE her smile in the words.
Toweling off and dressing quickly, Paul ran a comb through his hair and ignored the stubble on his face; he would have liked to have dealt with it but the insistence of the day had already brushed aside any sense of slow pacing to the morning. With little more than a deep breath and a centering thought, Paul emerged from the bathroom and proceeded down the hall. He stopped just long enough to knock on his bedroom door, and then went forth to the pure chaos of breakfast at the Millers'.
Paul's mom was still in the kitchen finishing up what smelled like her famous cinnamon waffles but that wasn't stopping his sisters from digging into the eggs and sausage already served. He glanced between the two of them, neither giving him any attention; he shrugged and helped himself. His mom came in a minute later with a large platter of waffles then looked at each of her children in turn with a disapproving expression. saying nothing, however, she simply sat down, took a waffle for herself, and then passed the plate around.
Paul's dad always said that people tended to ignore the most common topic of discussion when it was uncomfortable to bring up, but Paul wasn't able to wait any longer to get some answers; breakfast was well underway by the time Paul cleared his mouth (and organized his thoughts), and the questions began to pour out of him. "So what did the doctors say?" His sentence was punctuated by several forks being set down on their plates.
Paul's mom slowly finished chewing, swallowed, and then dabbed at her lips with a napkin. She set it down and took a breath, pausing before giving a simple answer, "Lung..." she swallowed at the false start, "Cancer..." though she maintained her composure but the young man didn't miss the way the second word wheezed its way out of her lips.
Paul nodded at that and hesitated as he tried to figure out how to voice his next question. He took a sip of coffee more to wet his lips than anything else, "...and... how did they figure it out?"
"Well..." she straightened up slightly, "You know how your father hates going to the doctor's office?" she tried to add a faint self-assured smile to the words; Paul's mom was ALWAYS arguing about that with his dad, "He'd been wheezing a lot at night... and he's lost a bit of weight over the past few weeks..."
"And you told him to go in for a check up and he told you that he's just fine." Paul added.
His mother nodded, "He kept saying it was allergies and that he was fine..." she shook her head, "when he started coughing I brought it up and he told me--"
"Stop nagging me, woman." Rebecca inserted in a theatrically low deep voice.
His mother continued, ignoring the interruption except for a pointed glare. "He didn't want to go and I wasn't going to make him until I found little red spots on one of his pocket rags after he coughed in it.
"How long was that going on for?" Paul asked, then immediately regretted the question when he saw his mother's self-reproach in her eyes.
"Too long." she admitted. She took his hand in hers when he offered it.
"Do they know how far along it is?" he asked quietly.
"They called it Stage 4." she answered.
"Is that good, or bad?" Paul questioned.
His mother shook her head, "I don't know..."
"You didn't ask them--"
"We're all trying to figure this out together, Paul." Rebecca interjected, her voice holding a slight edge to it, "This is kinda sudden for everyone." she gripped her fork, "Maybe if you would have been here YOU could have asked the--"
"Rebecca." the older woman spoke over her, and the teenage girl quieted, looking down into her half-eaten waffle before she started eating again. Paul's mom's attention returned to him, "The doctors have been running a lot of tests and we haven't hand a chance to talk with as many of them as we'd like." she answered amiably.
Paul nodded, glancing between his two sisters and his mother before considering his choice of words. "So... Stage 4..." he cleared his throat, "Did they say why he has lung cancer?"
"Because people get cancer, Paul." Rebecca mumbled.
"They think it might have something to do with the old school building." his mother explained, pushing her plate away from herself, "You remember when they tore it down right before you left?"
"Asbestos." Paul murmured.
"Asbestos." his mom confirmed.
"So..." Paul cleared his throat again, "what... are they gonna do?"
"They've started him on chemo therapy." Mrs Miller noted, her voice a little more confident as she explained it, "They don't want to start radiotherapy just yet... and," her confidence slipped a little, "...and I guess they may want to figure out if surgery first will help." the conversation came to a halt when Rebecca's fork hit her plate loudly. Everyone's eyes went to Rebecca, who stood up, and walked out.
"She's been doing a lot of research on the computer about all of this." their mother excused the teenager, "Rebecca's been a little hot-under-the-collar about it because she thinks she knows more than the doctors just because she has Google and Wikipedia." she offered a comforting smile, but to Paul it looked strained.
"Excuse me!" Rebecca's loud, insistent voice announced from the hallway. At first, Paul thought that she was shouting that back to their mother but, a moment later, a confused Tanner emerged from the hall, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Oh, Tanner..." Paul's mom offered a slightly more genuine smile, "You're just in time for breakfast."
"Did I do something?" the Dog glanced back toward the hall once more before taking a seat.
"It's just 'that time of the month'." Kimmy announced at a whisper.
"KIMBERLY MILLER!" their mom gaped, "That is NOT a polite thing to say!"
The young girl's face was blank of emotion for several seconds before she scowled, "But daddy always says that when--"
"Alright, Kimmy..." Paul quickly stepped in, "Just finish your waffles."
"These smell AMAZING." Tanner announced, his nostrils working faintly as his tail waved languidly behind him through the slats in the backing of the chair.
"It's my mom's special recipe." Kimmy volunteered the information.
"Cinnamon Waffles." Paul clarified.
"And sausage... and eggs..." Tanner added, taking a helping of each for himself. He glanced to Paul, "These eggs look familiar." he grinned.
Paul looked at the quizzical expression on his mom's face, "Tanner'd never had over-easy eggs before I showed him how to make em."
"Paul always was good at making eggs." his mom noted to the Dog, "It's pretty much everything else he has a problem with." she grinned.
"MOOOOM!" the young man exclaimed, aghast.
"It's true." Tanner smirked.
"Hey..." Paul turned on the Dog, "YOU, I can hit."
"Not unless you want to get hit back." Tanner countered.
"He might bite you." Kimmy added to Paul.
Tanner laughed at that and looked to the girl, "Dogs don't bite people, Kimmy, any more than a human bites people."
Paul grinned, "Well, there's Jeffrey Dahm--"
"Quiet you." Tanner quickly interjected, then looked back to Kimmy, "Anyway, if I didn't bite him the first day we met then it's proof that I'll NEVER bite him."
"You two met in a shoe store?" Paul's mom asked.
Tanner nodded, "Yes ma'am." his wag picked up speed, "I was working there at the time, and your son came in just after lunch time looking--"
"Hey!" Paul interjected, "You already pitted Rebecca against me with YOUR telling of that story... it's MY turn."
The dog grinned, wagging even faster, and gave a slight bow of his head and motioned to Paul, "Your family, your version..."
Paul gave a quick narration of their first meeting in the shoe store, the confusion over Tanner's job, and everything else that ended up causing them to become friends. The young man abbreviated the story, partly for simplicity, but also to avoid the more questionable topics such as Casey, Burb Dogs, and what he and Tanner had come to call 'the engine trouble dinner'--their first night together.
Once he reached the end Paul was starting to worry that there would be questions about the holes in his tale, but his mom simply gave a nod and stood up, "Well, it's certainly a lot better than how SOME people meet..." and she raised her voice, "Rebecca! I'm taking Kimberly to the hospital! When you're ready, follow us!" she looked to Paul, "You and Tanner can ride with her."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Paul asked, "You know how she gets when she's in one of her moods."
The next words out of his mother's mouth struck a chord, "I just can't handle her right now, Paul." He realized then in both her tone and her honesty that, despite the performance of normalcy she put on, she was as affected as anyone else, "Please... just wait for her to get ready and go with her."
Paul nodded, "Okay, Mom." and he remained at the table exchanging glances with Tanner as his mom ushered his little sister off to get her shoes on, "See you at the hospital."
"See you soon." she acknowledged, and herded Kimberly out the door.
Once his mom left Paul got up and began to move the dishes into the kitchen. Tanner quickly finished off the last of his eggs and helped finish clearing the table while Paul loaded the dishwasher, "Everything alright?" the Dog asked quietly.
The human managed to keep his voice steady, "You mean other than my dad having cancer?" he aimed for sarcasm though the cracking in his voice signaled he had failed, and that's when the tears came. Dishes left forgotten by the sink, the young man backed against the counter and began crying, but not before Tanner had him in his arms.
Burying his face into his boyfriend's shoulder, Paul hugged the Dog tightly as his carefully controlled emotions escaped him. The family moments of the morning changed from a happy reunion to an aching reminder that his father wasn't there with him. The awkwardness of his mother and his sisters showed just how much was missing... he'd been returned to his home; and found it broken.
Paul wasn't sure how long Tanner held him, but, at some point he knew they had to disengage. Wiping his cheeks, the human took several steadying breaths, "We should get Rebecca." he suggested, "I wanna get to the hospital." Tanner nodded, and the two went back to the hallway; the Dog gathered up a few things from their room while Paul went to his sister's room and knocked lightly on the door, "Ready?"
"HOLD ON!" Rebecca shouted.
Letting out another breath, Paul took a few moments to center himself. He leaned against the wall next to her door and wiped his eyes. Rebecca opened her room and breezed by him, "I'll get the car started." she noted quickly, heading down the hall, but not before Paul could see the redness to her eyes; the family was hurting and it was obvious despite the fragile facade.
A handful of minutes later they all found their way into Rebecca's car. She climbed into the front seat and didn't say anything when both Paul and Tanner slid into the back. The three of them were off to the hospital, not a word spoken between them. Paul worked hard during that time to compose himself and he was certain that the comforting grip of his lover's paw on his hand helped immensely; they didn't disengage until they arrived.
"South entrance, Paul." Rebecca noted, making sure all of the doors were locked after everyone left the car, "Oncology is on the right."
"Oncology..." Paul acknowledged the word with a shudder; it seemed like such an innocent word that the true significance of it felt lost and he couldn't help but wonder if it was on purpose. He was so lost in his thought that he almost walked right by his mother and little sister.
"Paul..." she said his name quietly, pulling him out of his musings. She was seated with Kimmy in the hospital's general waiting room.
Puzzled, Paul looked to her and then down the hall pointed to by the adjacent sign indicating the direction for the Oncology Department, "What's up?" he offered in as relaxed a tone as he could manage.
"Your father's in the middle of a procedure." his mom explained, "They'll come get us when he's back in his room."
"A 'Procedure'?" Paul asked, "We're his family. Can't we see him while--" but his voice trailed off as he studied her expression; he remembered somewhere in the back of his mind reading about cancer treatments and he immediately didn't need or want an explanation, "I'm gonna walk around a bit."
"Stay on this floor." his mother suggested, "I'll send Kimmy to find you when they let us know it's alright to visit." The young man nodded; he knew he wouldn't be able to sit still so he chose a random hallway and walked down it, Tanner following quietly two steps behind.
"Lung cancer." Paul spoke up after several minutes, "My dad has lung cancer..." Tanner didn't responds other than to gently rest a paw on his shoulder. The young man fought back a wave of tears, "He doesn't smoke... it might have something to do with asbestos in a building where he used to work."
"I thought your dad was a teacher." the Dog noted.
Paul nodded, "It was an old building, and I guess they didn't do what they were supposed to when they were renovating or something..." he let out a sigh, shaking his head, "I mean... I guess it CAN happen to anyone, but my dad? It-- I--" Paul swallowed a knot developing in his throat, "...cancer..." he felt his throat begin to constrict again.
"You'll get to see him soon." Tanner offered in a soothing voice. Paul simply nodded, managing to fight off another wave of tears. It wasn't long before he had a distraction to help.
"Paul?" the voice made the young man come to an immediate halt, "Paul Miller?" it was the last voice Paul had expected to hear. The speaker was standing at the side of the hall with a clipboard in hand.
Stunned, there was very little Paul could say other than "Hi, Brian."
He could sense Tanner's ears going up even though he couldn't see the Dog. All Paul's attention was on the young doctor, who set the clip board off to the side and approached him. Brian was exactly as Paul remembered; brown hair cut close, gray eyes sparking with optimism and lips quirked faintly at either side hinting at what might become a smile at any moment... which happened the very second he thought about it.
"Wow, Paul..." Brian's smile lit up his whole face, "You--" but the smile disappeared immediately as his eyes flicked to Tanner, opening wide, "Oh my God... you're THAT Paul Miller?!?!"
"I'm..." Paul paused, "I'm WHAT Paul Miller?" he stood confused for several seconds until he followed Brian's gaze to a just-as-confused Tanner.
"Is this BRIAN Brian?" the Dog asked.
"You're Paul Miller from AHB Marketing!" Brian gasped, still staring at Tanner, and that's all it took for Paul to make the connection.
"No, I--" he paused, "I mean, yes, but--"
"Oh my GOD, Paul." Brian's face lit up in a huge grin again, "You're a Lea--"
"Listen..." Paul interrupted quickly, glancing around at the several people in the hall staring at the outburst, "Can we maybe talk about this somewhere a little quieter?"
"Oh... uh... sure!" Brian acknowledged, "Come on." and he led Paul and Tanner down the hallway, giving Paul a few moments to consider exactly what was going to be said; he hadn't expected to run into Brian-- the last he had heard, his ex was living on the East Coast. Brian opened a door to the hospital cafeteria, putting an end to Paul's musings.
"The cafeteria?" Paul paused, "I was thinking... private."
"It's dead in here until eight." Brian reassured him, then looked to Tanner, "Brian." he held out a hand.
"Tan Paw Jr." Tanner responded, accepting the shake, "Tanner." he clarified.
"Nice to meet you, Tanner." the young doctor acknowledged, and followed Paul into the cafeteria. Paul was pleased to see that Brian was correct; there wasn't a single person present. He chose a table near the corner and took a seat, more than a little uncomfortable at the situation.
"So..." Brian smiled, seated across from the two of them, fingers tented.
"I'm not a Leasher." Paul blurted immediately.
"And yet here you are sitting next to a Dog." Brian pointed out theatrically, "You'll have to forgive my confusion." his cocky grin said that he wasn't convinced,
"No... I mean it." after all their time apart, apparently Brian could still put him off-balance, "I'm not."
"Yea..." the young doctor maintained the cocky grin, "Well I wear a lab coat, have PhD, and work in a hospital... some people call me a doctor, but, like with you, I can see how there'd be some confusion... I'm actually a pediatrician."
"Pediatricians are doctors, aren't they?" Tanner inquired, one of his ears falling flat.
"Yes... yes they are." Brian confirmed, and glanced at Paul, "And, last I checked, there was a rumor that one Paul Miller was a Leasher, and now he shows up with a Dog at his heels."
"I'm not a Leasher." Paul stated firmly.
"You never DID like labels, did you, Paul?" Brian's smile faded as he leaned forward, with his elbows on the table, propping his chin up in his palms. He glanced to Tanner, "I take it you've met the family?" Tanner nodded, "And they know you two are--"
"Brian..." Paul interrupted the dialogue, "Tanner is my boyfriend." and froze the moments the words left his mouth, going pale. He'd rehearsed the 'room mate' in his head a dozen times, so why had the 'b' word come out instead? He felt a chill down his spine.
"...wow." Brian sat back in his chair, face going blank, "...wow." he blinked, and then a smile returned along with a chuckle, "God damn, Paul... I never thought I'd hear you say 'boyfriend' aloud." and his smirk returned when he saw Paul squirm, "Still getting a feel for being out in the open?"
"He isn't." Tanner explained in a lower tone, ears flat slightly as he glanced to his lover, "Paul?"
"I just..." Paul shook his head and sighed, "I'm just really far in my head right now... a lot going on."
Brian nodded sympathetically, smile disappearing, "Your dad..."
Paul looked up and across the table at his ex, "You know?"
"I work here." Brian nodded, "I found your mom in the waiting room when they came in and I was there when they got the news."
"That must have been..." Paul paused.
"It was horrible, yea..." the young doctor nodded, "but not as awkward as you might have thought." he reached across the table and put his hand on Paul's, "We were friends for like, a dozen years, Paul... your parents said they always thought of me as second son."
Paul pulled his hand out of Brian's and stood up, knocking his chair over with the suddenness of the movement, "Well at least they could have ONE of their sons there when they found out." and he made his way to the exit at as quick a pace as he could manage without running into something; the tears in his eyes made it difficult but he managed.
"Paul!" Brian's and Tanner's voices called in unison, but he ignored them in his preference for escape.
The three of them had passed a bathroom at the intersecting halls before the cafeteria and that is where Paul chose for his sanctuary. He rushed into the room and, upon realizing all the stalls were open and nobody else was there, leaned on the counter next to the sink and rested his head against the mirror. He sobbed several times before the tears escaped. Too much was happening too quickly-- he had just been starting to get his present life together and suddenly so much of his prior life was finding ways to infiltrate it.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed in the bathroom, losing track of time as he dwelled in an emotional place between fear, anger, regret, frustration, and so many feelings he just couldn't find words for. In the end, he settled on realizing that he hurt... and, thinking of Tanner and Brian seated in the cafeteria only made him hurt more, not because they were together, but because he realized that neither man he loved was able to help him face what he knew was coming. Steadying himself, Paul used a paper towel to wipe his face clean of tears, and he exited the bathroom.
Tanner and Brian were still at the table where he'd left them, talking quietly amongst themselves. He knew that it should have worried him, but he couldn't bring himself to feel it at that moment. Paul quietly took a seat and both turned to regard him, "You alright?" Brian asked.
"No." he answered simply.
Brian nodded sympathetically, "Tanner explained... about the Leasher thing."
"Yea." Paul nodded, trying but failing to get past the ennui of the moment.
"And Brian explained... about the... Brian thing." Tanner offered.
"Oh?" Paul asked of the Dog, then looked to the young doctor, "What did Brian explain, exactly?"
"About us." Brian shrugged, "A little history of Paul."
"I should be worried, shouldn't I?" Paul questioned, trying to add some humor to it, but he couldn't find the right tone. He let out a sigh and brushed his hand across the top of his head, "I just want to know my dad will be alright..." He sat up straighter and leveled his gaze at Brian, "Did you have a chance to see him?"
"Whenever I can, of course." Brian acknowledged.
"And... did you talk to the doctor taking care of him?" Paul asked, "What did he say? What are they doing to help him?"
Brian shook his head, "He couldn't say anything... I'm a pediatrician, Paul... they don't just share patient information with anyone, even a fellow staff member unless we have a need to know."
"But you're a friend of the family." Paul pointed out.
"Right..." the young doctor acknowledged, "but I'm not family... and there are legal guidelines about what a doctor can share with others... even with a patient's family." Brian sighed, "And your dad hasn't given the doctor permission to tell anyone anything."
"Anyone?" Paul stopped at that, "I'm sure Mom--"
"Got the basics from the doctors, but you know your dad." Brian shrugged.
"Yea, well..." Paul ran his hand across the table top, "He may not want anyone to worry, but that just makes everyone more worried." He looked up at his ex, who was not meeting his gaze, "What?" he asked. Brian shrugged in response, "What, Brian?"
The young doctor sighed in response, "I was there when Dr Moller brought up palliative care."
"What's pallia-whatever care?" Paul questioned.
"It means..." Brian looked down at the table, running his hand through his hair, "it means they want to focus on symptoms without focusing on the cause."
"But how does that help him get better?" Paul asked.
Brian talked with his eyes focused on the table, "It's supposed to make him comfortable."
"Right..." Paul nodded, "I guess that makes sense, considering what chemo and radiation stuff does to someone... but--"
"Paul!" Kimberly's voice echoed through the empty cafeteria. Paul looked to the entrance where his sister waved at him, motioning, "Mom said to come get you... Dad's out of his... thing."
"Brian, I--" Paul began, but was interrupted.
"Go see your dad, Paul." Brian offered with a faint smile, then turned to Tanner, "Nice meeting you, Tan Paw." he faced Paul again, "My cell number's still the same." and, with that, he excused himself and headed out first.
"Brian's working here now." Kimberly added as Paul joined her at the door.
"I can tell." he noted, resting a hand on her shoulder, "Thanks for the heads up." He headed back to the central guest area with his little sister on one side and Tanner on the other.
Paul paused when they got back to the waiting room; he didn't see his mom or Rebecca. "This way." Kimmy noted, heading into the oncology wing. Tanner glanced to Paul, who returned the gaze. The Dog offered a paw to him and the young man nodded faintly, gently resting his hand in Tanner's palm, and they proceeded together.
The oncology wing was a gathering of nine rooms connected with a central room that was dual purposed as a waiting room and a general office. Paul saw that one of the side rooms had several doctor names attached to it, leading him to believe that they were private offices. The other eight rooms were numbered and had first initials and last names. Even without seeing the "G. Miller" under 211, Paul was able to identify his father's room because his mom and his other sister were seated just outside it. The young man gently removed his fingers from Tanner's relaxed grip.
"Hi, honey." Paul's mom greeted him, standing up as he approached. Her eyes were red and, more than ever it was apparent that she looked exhausted. She spread her arms out to give him a hug as he approached. He accepted it without pause.
"Why aren't you in there with dad?" he asked as they disengaged.
"They said they are still trying to get the chemicals right and that your father wasn't responding very well to them." she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, "So they gave him something to help him relax."
"Can..." he paused, looking to his mother and his sisters, "... can I... go in?"
"Don't bug him." Rebecca stated pointedly.
"It's alright." his mom spoke up, looking at her then she looked back to Paul, "Go ahead, Honey... if you want to be near him that's fine... just let your dad rest, okay?" she brushed her fingers up and over his ear like she used to do years prior back when his hair was longer; the gesture struck Paul and he fought back tears as he nodded and returned his attention to the door.
Paul rested his hand on the door knob and glanced back once more to his family; Tanner gave each of the Miller girls a hug and not even Paul's mom turned one down-- all three cried, and the Dog remained close at hand, meeting his glance just long enough to mouth 'go'.
The door yielded easily to Paul and he entered, closing it noiselessly behind him. Paul had never spent much time in hospitals but had enough trips to the doctor's office to recognize the scent of oxygen-laden air. The room also held a strong scent of disinfectant and hospital detergent. Many of the lights were on but not all of them, giving the room a strange sense of illumination while not fully disbursing every last shadow; somehow Paul knew he could have compared it to elements of his life but, at that moment, he was more focused on the man laying in the hospital bed.
Paul had always considered his father to be a powerful man. George Miller, teacher by profession always took great care in his personal appearance, but it was not apparent at that moment; Paul's father obviously hadn't shaved in a few days and his hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and that's when he smelled the strong scent of a body exposed to toxic chemicals-- more than the scent made his eyes well up with tears.
He spent several moments looking at his father trying to see past the pale, sweat-glistened face to the happy, almost cherubic expression he dad never should have been without. Mr Miller had never been specifically overweight but he was had always been on the heartier side of average; as Paul looked at his father it was hard to believe how much weight he had lost. "Oh, Dad..." the words escaped Paul at barely a whisper. The young man took a seat on a high-backed chair next to the bed, and that's when he saw the envelope on the tray.
The wooden tray, probably used for meal times was situated on a cabinet next to the hospital bed. The envelope was carefully folded and sealed and a pencil rested atop it; Paul's name was written on it in his father's unmistakable penmanship. A bitter-sweet smile spread across the young man's face as he picked up the envelope and took a moment to admire the perfectly formed, well shaped letters more refined than the finest calligraphy. Taking a deep breath, eyes still on his dad, Paul opened it and unfolded the letter within. One more deep breath later, Paul looked to the paper and began to read.
"To my son,
"As you well know there is a long-standing tradition that's been in the Miller Family for generations, and that's the man-to-man talk. The time eventually comes when dads have to stop looking at their sons as boys and eventually realize that they've grown. My grandfather said he was given 'the talk' when he was fifteen and got his first job. My father told me that my grandfather had 'the talk' with him when he was sixteen and got his first car. My father and I had 'the talk' when I was 17 and decided for myself that I was going to go to college and become a teacher. I don't know why, but it seems that it takes longer and longer for each generation."
Paul looked down at the paper, realizing what he held in his hand. Not only had been informed from a young age about 'the talk', but it was something he expected would never be brought up once his dad found out about him being gay. It wasn't that his father ever directly condemned him, but Paul always knew that his father was disappointed. His hands began to shake as he continued reading.
"I was going to wait until you graduated to have 'the talk' but, well, we both know that a lot of things happened around then and neither of us really had a full grasp of the situation. You'll never know how much I regret letting you leave for college without stopping you and sitting down man-to-man... it's something that every father both dreads and looks forward to in equal measure, and it's something that every son deserves. Paul, I'm sorry that I let you down."
The young man looked at the words, pausing as a tear struck the page. He hastily blotted at it with the sleeve of his shirt and took a steadying breath, wiping his eyes with the back of an arm. He took a moment to regain control of his rebellious tears. He exhaled slowly, and looked back to the letter.
"When this health issue began the one and only thing in my mind was that I wouldn't get a chance to have 'the talk' with you, son. I was worried that it would be up to Frank or Willy and even though I love both your uncles dearly, let's face it-- neither have any kids, and it's probably for the best. I wouldn't want you to have to suffer through either of them telling you like it is."
Paul couldn't help but laugh quietly at his father's humor showing through. He knew his dad cared for his brothers greatly but, as it was once told to him, "I love them both... and I'd love to keep loving them, which is why they're not always visiting." At that moment, however, the severity of what his dad put onto paper struck him: his dad was talking about... dying. Feeling that thought shake him to his center, Paul tried to bury it by reading further.
"Being a man isn't about being getting your first job or getting a car or graduating high school, Paul. Being a man is a frame of mind... it means being able to make your own decisions and live with those consequences. It's about standing for what you know is right. It's about knowing who you are and being willing to accept that others may try to change you but realizing there's only once person who can do that: you. (Your mother has always tried to prove that she can change me but, well... you know how well that's turned out). Oh... and please don't show her this letter."
Paul fought back another chuckle; his father always knew how to use the moment to its best comedic value. He looked to the quiet, pale face resting on the pillow only a few feet from him. Despite everything, Paul could almost convince himself that his dad looked peaceful and relaxed, but he couldn't delude himself into thinking that it was anything other that whatever sedatives that the doctors gave him. His eyes migrated back to the letter.
"Being a man means that you have to rise above the shortfalls of your family. It means you need to become someone you can be proud of and hopefully, just hopefully you won't make the mistakes your parents did. Being a man is celebrating where you've come from but also achieving the goals you set for yourself... and if you're a real man then those should not be easy ones-- we should reach with the optimism and drive of a man and not the hopeless desires and baseless wants of a child. Men are responsible for their own successes and failures."
"Being a man means that you should be able to know that not everything turns out how you want it-- and that, on some occasions, that you are the one who is at fault for that... and being a man means you should be able to say you're sorry. That's the point of this letter, Paul-- I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry that things turned out the way they did. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you had to run, or if you felt that you were a disappointment. You've never disappointed me, Paul."
Paul managed to remain focused on the letter as he read through it, somehow keeping the tears in his eyes from interfering with his ability to see the words. "But most of all," the letter said, "I know you needed to hear that I still love you, and that's true... I hope you know that's true. Life isn't perfect, Paul. Nobody said it would be, and understanding that is what it means to be a man. No matter what, you're still my son, and no matter what I'll love you. I might not have always understood and I might not have always agreed, but you will still have my love. Always."
"You still know how to write a letter." Paul smiled at his dad, eyes brimming.
The door creaked slowly and Paul looked up to see Tanner slide in before closing it again. Paul clearly saw the wet marks on the Dog's shirt where his sisters had shed their tears and there was no mistaking that Tanner was still available to lean on. The shepherd took a seat on a padded bench within arm's reach and gently rested a paw on Paul's knee, "I'm not gonna say anything." Tanner offered at a whisper, "I'm just here for support."
Paul sat in the chair, staring at the paper in his hand, finally letting his tears have their way. He kept looking back and forth between the letter and his father, the emotions of the moment washing everything else away from his mind. When he first heard his father had cancer he had no idea what to think but, at that moment the only thing he could consider was what was left unsaid between them. He fervently wanted a chance to let those words be spoken. "Thank you." he said softly to Tanner, and rested his own hand atop the Dog's paw.
His dad opened his eyes some five or ten minutes later. He blinked several times before he bothered glancing around the room; a smile came to his face the moment they landed on Paul. "Well..." he croaked with a grin, "Look who's here..."
"Hi, Dad." Paul did his best to smile, ignoring the tears that escaped him.
His father grunted, easing himself up in bed slightly before reaching down to the electronic controls; he raised the back, "I knew they had these on here for a reason." he offered a wink to his son.
"So..." the young man shifted on the chair, "The letter..." he held the paper up.
"The letter." his father acknowledged.
"I like how you put 'the talk' in quotations." Paul offered.
His dad laughed, but only for a few moments before it sent him into a coughing fit. The older man eased the grimace off of his face, replacing it with a smile, "I thought you'd like that."
The smile faded from Paul's, "Nobody's really told me what's going on."
"Hmm... I should have included that in the letter as well." his dad winked, "THAT'S part of being a man too."
"I'm serious." Paul insisted, "Mom and Rebecca barely told me a thing."
"You should have asked Kimmy-- she can be bribed with black licorice." his father advised.
"I'm serious, Dad." Paul objected, "What's going on?"
The smile slowly faded from the older man. He looked to the side and pulled a water bottle off of the counter beside his bed and fumbled it a few times; Paul realized that it wasn't clumsiness-- his father was having trouble gripping it. Paul reached out but his dad swatted his hand away, "I got it." he stated, and managed to retrieve the water. He took several sips from the plastic straw attached to it then leveled his gaze at Paul, "They haven't told you anything because I haven't told them anything."
"Why not?" Paul demanded, "We're your family! Don't we--"
"Don't you deserve a chance to start worrying and fretting and telling me--" his dad began, then paused to catch his breath, "I'm in the hospital and receiving treatment... I don't think the world should stop for all of you just because of that."
"We're worried whether you tell us or not." Paul stated, "But at least you can take the unknown part of it out of the way... I'd feel better knowing what's going on." he declared.
"And I'd like to know who's sitting next to you." the comment from his father snapped Paul out of his focus and he glanced to Tanner, who sat back, ears raising.
"This is Tanner." Paul announced, "Now what's going on?"
"I'm being treated for lung cancer." the elder Miller answered, "What is Tanner doing here?"
"He's my roommate and Mom invited him home when she heard he was helping me with emotional support." the young man replied and barely took a breath before he countered with, "Did the doctors say how much longer until you get better?" Paul gave him a critical look, "You ARE getting better, aren't you?"
Paul's father rolled his eyes, "I shouldn't be here much longer." but he continued looking at Tanner and not Paul, "How long have you two been going out?"
"Almost two years." Paul answered without a second thought, "But you didn't answer my question. Did the doctors say--" and he froze, his heart jumping up into his throat. The faintest hint of a whine from Tanner revealed that the Dog also understood the trap that Mr Miller had laid and, if he hadn't, the knowing nod from the man filled in the blanks.
"How did you two meet?" his father continued the questioning in a tone that Paul realized would accept no hesitation. With no way to avoid the interrogation, the young man began to explain their full introduction as well as their friendship developing into a more connected relationship and then, ultimately the two of them moving in together when Tanner started college.
"Computer technology..." Paul's father nodded, "Good field... high demand."
"Yes sir." Tanner nodded in agreement.
"And the two of you have a future together?" the older man asked of his son.
"Well," Paul breathed, "Tanner finishes his classes in another two semesters, and then--"
"I mean the two of you together." his dad pressed.
Paul paused, glancing between his father and Tanner then back again, "Well, like I said, once he's done with his classes we'll figure out where we go from there."
"Where 'we' go?" his father asked.
"Right." Paul nodded, reaching out to take hold of Tanner's paw, "He's my best friend and if I can't think of a 'we' with HIM then I don't think I could think about it with anyone."
Mr Miller's eyes went from Paul to Tanner, "And you?" he asked the Dog, "You thought you could work things out if my son let you stay with him while you went to school?"
"He offered, sir..." the shepherd answered, fidgeting under the man's gaze, "and I pay rent from my tuition money... I don't expect him to pay for everything and I'm not about to take advantage of--"
"Why Paul?" he asked, "Why my son?"
Tanner paused, looking at the older man for several seconds before answering, "Because he's one of the most amazing people I've ever met." he turned to meet Paul's gaze but continued talking to his father, "He's kind without any expectation of getting anything in return... he's intelligent without being stuck-up about it... he's shy without being meek and he's naiive without being stupid." he looked back to Paul's dad again, "Why Paul?" he parroted the older human's question, "Like Paul said... I don't think I could think about life with anyone else." he swallowed, and his next words stunned Paul, "and I love him." he turned to look his lover in the eyes, "I love you."
Paul missed his father's next question... and the repeat. It wasn't until the third time that the young man understood what his dad said, "Does he make you happy?" Paul felt like his tongue was three times its normal size, dumb from the words his boyfriend had spoken; he simply nodded in response.
In the end, Tanner spoke for him, "Paul has spent a lot of time talking about his family. It's obvious that he loves you all and he's been agonizing over being so distant from everyone."
"The feeling's mutual." Mr Miller acknowledged, attention focused on his son.
"I love Tanner, Dad." Paul finally found his voice, "He's my boyfriend, and I know I can't expect you to understand or to accept it, but--"
"I do." his father smiled warmly.
"but if you can find it in--" Paul continued, but the words slowly wound down to silence and he simply sat there staring at his father.
His father motioned to him, "He makes you happy," then motioned to Tanner, "and you love him," then back to Paul, "and he loves you." He crossed his hands in his lap, "It's not my place to stand in the middle of that and, let's face it... if I did it wouldn't make any difference, now would it?" he started another round of laughter and, once again, it was interrupted by coughing. "Now..." he said once the hacking was over, "Where exactly is everyone else?"
The rest of the visit at the hospital was pure chaos; once the whole Miller clan was in one room it felt to Paul like things were ALMOST back to normal, and Tanner did far better surviving the enormous pun war that developed... and even managed to put a few of his own in as well. Somehow, beyond belief, the awkwardness of it that Paul had been dreading and expecting never manifested; in his mind the moment would have been fine lasting forever but, all-too-soon one of the nurses knocked on the door and let them know that visiting hours were over.
"It's okay... it's okay..." Mr Miller explained, waving everyone's objections away, "I'm just going to eat some really bad hospital food and go to sleep early... you're not missing anything." he smiled at everyone. Even with that clever farewell it still took another five minutes to say goodbye. He gave Paul's mom a kiss and hugged each of his daughters. Paul offered a hand, but his dad simply responded with a "Ha! Come'ere." and pulled him in for a tight hug. It blew the young man's mind that he treated Tanner exactly the same, "Life's too short not to." he smiled, "Now get going-- I'm sure your mom will want some help getting dinner ready."
"I think I should stay here tonight." Paul objected, "I fly out tomorrow afternoon and I--"
"Go on, Paul." his father insisted, "I'll call you soon." he offered with a tired smile.
"Alright." the young man nodded, "I love you, Dad." and he stood, paused, then leaned down to give his father one last hug... the last one he ever would.
Paul didn't find out his father died until late the following night when his plane touched down. He and Tanner had just got their luggage and he was turning his cell back on, "Two message." he told the Dog, and let the first one play.
"Hey Paul..." his dad's voice was raspy, "Not going to be able to talk for long... didn't do chemo today because the doc wants to monitor me more closely..." and the message was interrupted by a long series of coughs. When his father started talking again his voice was accompanied by a wheeze, "I'm glad I got to see you yesterday and I'm even more glad to see that you found someone that you love and who loves you." he took two whistling breaths before continuing, "I don't care that Tanner is a man or that he's a Dog... I'm just glad that it's so obvious that you go so well together."
Paul paused to lean against a pillar, feeling the tears begin to well up. His father took several more breaths on the line before speaking again, "Don't forget your family, Paul-- we all love you." there was another pause, "I am SO damn proud of you, Paul... you're going to do amazing things... you are going to shine so bright... it'll hurt to look at you." there was another pause, just long enough for Paul to think the message was over but, just before it would have cut off, his dad added, "I love you, Paul... I love you."
Tanner had stopped by the human by that point, holding onto his hand as Paul's tears flowed freely. He pressed the button to save the message, and the next one played. It was very short, and he had to replay it to make certain he didn't misunderstand his mother. She was crying, and her voice was faint, "Paul... honey... it's your dad... he passed away tonight just after 8. The doctors said they made him as comfortable as they could... I'll call you tomorrow morning... love you... bye."
Paul remained leaning against the pillar, gazing at the phone in his hand. He calmly saved that message and slowly hit the button to go to the previous recording. The young man looked at the time stamp, which was still set to central standard time: 7:15pm. He didn't remember the ride home, save for looking at the screen of his phone the whole way.