Thursday, June 24, 2021

I Gotta Hang Up Now…. Part 2 of 2 Parts blog post #503

 Photo courtesy of 123RF

Last week, we met Tim and Petey, domestic partners, after Tim had been beaned by a baseball. While he couldn’t be certain because of swelling caused by the blow, the neurologist had expressed concern over early onset dementia. Petey’s mother had died of Alzheimer’s, so he was all too suggestive in that department.


The first installment of the story ended with Petey giving Tim some relief by hand. As he finishes cleaning up the mess, a pretty, young nurse named Angel comes in. Tim blithely announces that Petey had just taken care of his needs and was cleaning him up. Petey’s ears flame red; Angel acts like he’s heard it all before.



I left with my head spinning. I’d made the early visit because Tim had been upset by something I said on the phone. When I arrived, everything seemed okay. Had he simply been sexually frustrated? And what was that comment to the nurse? Tim wasn’t particularly cramped up about his orientation, but neither did he go about proclaiming it voluntarily. I had a sudden image of Angel… she’d been blonde and built and cute. He flirted with a lot of girls of that description, but he always went home with me. Aw, my imagination was running wild. He was still daffy from a blow to the head.

As I prepared to leave the office to grab a bite and visit the hospital, my boss caught me with some last-minute changes to some documents he needed for an early morning meeting. There wasn’t anything to do but sit back down at the desk and get busy. Halfway through it, my cell phone rang.

“Hey, man, where are you?” Tim complained in my ear.

“Still at the office.”

“Likely story.”

“True, old buddy. I’d like to say I’m out living it up, but nope. Here I am, stuck at the office doing clean-up work for the boss.” I glanced at the remaining changes I needed to make in the contract. “I’ll finish up in about half an hour. Then I’ll come over. Can I bring you anything?”

“Just your hunky self. But I can’t wait thirty minutes. Hell, talk dirty to me.”

I glanced around the darkened, deserted office. “Can you guess what I’m nursing?” I asked in a thick voice.”

“Same thing I got a fist wrapped around, I hope.”

“Right on. Now I’m gonna pump it a little.”

He gave a little gasp. “Not a little. A lot! Oh, man!”

His groan let me know he was into the spirit of the thing, and that put me in the proper mood. For a few minutes there were only grunts and groans until he let out a long moan. I wasn’t far behind him.

“How was it?” I asked in a ragged voice.

“Great. Almost as good as the real thing.”

I sighed. “Be over as soon as I can.”

He turned on a dime. “Yeah,” came the sarcastic reply. “As soon as you’re finished with Byron.”

“Byron’s not here. I’m at the office, guy. Working.”

“Yeah, sure.” He hung up.

When I walked into his hospital room an hour later, he seemed all right. Maybe a little too all right. Just a big smile and arms held out for a hug. I turned it into an abrazo, instead of a loving embrace. I don’t think he noticed.

“What did the doctor say today?” I asked, as I poked a straw into the strawberry shake I’d brought and handed it over. Tim was a sucker for strawberry shakes.

“Swelling’s going down. And his usual tricks. How many animal can you name in one minute. Draw a clock with the hands at four.” Tim snickered. “I asked him… a.m. or p.m. You know, all those memory games.”

“Any word about when you’re getting out of here?”

“Still Friday.”

After that, Tim went pensive. I related the events of my uneventful day. He glanced at his watch a couple of times and reached for his phone once, but he didn’t pick it up. By the time Nurse Angel, still looking pretty, kicked me out because visiting hours slipped by, I was suspicious. Something was going on with my guy. Was Angel doing for him what I’d done the other day? Another thought rocked me on my heels. Or was Byron—that good-looking bastard—paying him visits? What better way of throwing me off the track than accusing me of doing what he was. So help me, I called his cell as soon as I got home.

I didn’t even bother to say hello. “Has Byron been by to see you?”

“Byron? He came around that first day with most of the team, but haven’t seen him since. Figured he was checking on you now that I’m out of the way.”

Aware that I was spilling air from my own suspicions, I shook my head. “Tim, Byron isn’t even gay.”

“Then why all the flirting? All the suggestions?”

“He gets a bang out of teasing gays.”

“Until he gets caught with one,” Tim said.

“Not me. You?”

“Me to know and you to find out,” Tim said.

“I thought you were twenty-three, not thirteen.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t apply. You coming by to see me, lover?”

Jeez, I’d just left. Were the doctor’s fears about dementia coming true? “It’s after visiting hours. Besides, I just got home from seeing you.”


“See you tomorrow, Tim. Love you.”

The phone went dead. I undressed and took a shower. Standing beneath the warm, pelting water, I almost surrendered to despair. What would I do if the doctor was right? Could I handle him? Would he be able to work, take care of himself? Oh, Lord!

Then the little worm in my head turned. Or was he acting this way because of guilt? Had he gotten his little Angel of a nurse to help him out? Was Byron slipping by to give him a hand, so to speak. My earlier argument to Tim about Byron seemed to cut no mustard any longer. I could see the sly son of a bitch sneaking by to slip a hand under the bedcovers. He’d probably think it was fun to lead Tim on like that.


I did not sleep well that night. And when I did, I dreamed of a parade of people passing through Tim’s hospital room, all giving him intimate relief. Still exhausted, I got up early went into work early, and bugged out early to go see Tim. I’d parked and was walking into the hospital lobby when my phone rang.

“Hi Petey. Where are you. I’m missing you mightily.”

I smiled to myself and decided to surprise him. “Won’t be long. I’m aching to see you.”

“You’re aching? Man, I can hardly wait. I want you so bad, I can’t stand it.”

Eschewing the elevator, I took the stairs two-at-a-time to the second floor. “And what do you expect when I get there?”

“Some relief. Man, I’m so hard for you, I can’t even hide it anymore.”

I emerged from the stairwell and breezed down the hallway. “Can’t you take care of it yourself?”

“Not half as good as you can. Hurry.”

“It won’t be long now,” I said as I walked through the door and smiled at my lover.

Then I heard a hurried whisper in my ear. “I gotta hang up now. Here he comes.”

I stopped dead still as if pole axed. I was right, the poor, addled sap was cheating on me. With me!


Wow! I’m not certain I want to know what happens next. So I’ll leave it to your imagination to get Tim out of the hospital and back home with Petey. Set your imaginations free!

 Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it!

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 See you next Thursday.



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