Watching Brad

[Blktiger58]

My OH My!! wow!!! Great chapter. I am taking this better than I thought. Thank you for another great chapter.. I shall wait for the next chapter.

 

[jastwa]

I know that I have just joined in this, but that is a wonderful piece of work, I look forward to the next chapter

 

[jastwa]

I look forward to the next chapter and hope the bad news won't be bad as it seems to be

 

[smile86]

arghhhhhhh

hehe, i started reading your story a couple of weeks ago, and now i've caught up you leave me on a godawful cliffhanger

i love your story, it's made me laugh and cry, and i've become ever so slightly addicted to it...

we all love a good love story, but your story is so much more than just that, all the characters seem so real and you've obviously put a lot of thought into every character and situation, it really shows

thanks for entertaining me and don't be too long with the next chapter, i bite my nails too much as it is!

 

[smile86]

oh yeah and btw, in reference to a chapter which i think was a couple of pages back, i LOVE colin and justin

 

[gsdx]

oh yeah and btw, in reference to a chapter which i think was a couple of pages back, i LOVE colin and justin

I don't mind them, really, but lately they've been getting on my nerves with their attitudes. Colin isn't too bad, but Justin is way over the top sometimes, and every time Colin comes up with something good, Justin steals it and makes it his own. They've really been 'coming out' a lot more lately. They're hardly discreet anymore.

And why can't they design anything other than what they like? All their designs look the same.

 

[sheep]

I don't mind them, really, but lately they've been getting on my nerves with their attitudes. Colin isn't too bad, but Justin is way over the top sometimes, and every time Colin comes up with something good, Justin steals it and makes it his own. They've really been 'coming out' a lot more lately. They're hardly discreet anymore.

And why can't they design anything other than what they like? All their designs look the same.

Did I miss something? Is senility hitting at such a young age? Is it time for *Watching Brad* 101?

Who are Colin and Justin? I know who Justin is but....?

 

[gsdx]

Did I miss something? Is senility hitting at such a young age? Is it time for *Watching Brad* 101?

Who are Colin and Justin? I know who Justin is but....?

No senility, my friend. I was hinting at a designer couple from Scotland who are featured on HGTV in a number of different programmes.

http://www.five.tv/programmes/hownottodecorate/

Colin McAllister is on the left and Justin Ryan is on the right.

 

[sheep]

And why can't they design anything other than what they like? All their designs look the same.

Because they are *TV designers* not accredited Interior Designers. There are them that do and them that go on TV and make asses of themselves and prolly for more money

 

[smile86]

Perhaps my love of Colin and Justin is just another thing that shows how few good things there are on British TV at the moment, which has become even clearer now i have become a slobby daytime tv watching student

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 111​

"I'm deeply sorry, Ted," Dr. Blair said, "but you're not pregnant."

I looked at him, wondering if I had heard him correctly. Then I looked at Mom, then Brad - both were equally as stunned as I - and finally back to Dr. Blair. A smile creased his lips and he winked at me, and I suddenly started laughing. I hadn't prepared myself for humour.

Brad joined me, and so did Dr. Blair, but Mom didn't seem to think it was so funny - making light of the situation when her son's health was at stake. We settled down again quickly enough, though, and got down to the business of what was really wrong with me.

"I believe," Dr. Blair began, "that I can safely say that you're not suffering a breakdown. But, I must warn you, Ted. . ." (he held up his hand, his thumb and index finger extended and mere millimetres apart) ". . . you're this far away from having one. If things continue on their present course, I can almost guarantee you'll have one which could put you in hospital, perhaps for months."

He paused a moment, allowing me time to absorb and understand his words. "It will be a day or two before I get the results back from your blood work and urine samples," he continued, "but I don't expect them to tell me anything I don't already know. You are suffering acute anxiety and exhaustion."

"Which means?" I asked.

"Which means you're anxious and exhausted. It doesn't take a professional to see that, Ted. Your eyes are drooping and your shoulders are sagging. You slump over when you sit, and you've lost almost three kilos. Your heart rate is up and so is your blood pressure. You're are neither eating nor sleeping properly, probably from those nightmares you're having, and those, I believe, are being brought on by all the pressures and stress you've been enduring lately."

"Is it serious?" my mother asked.

"No, as long as this trend doesn't continue. I can fix your body, Ted, but you have issues which are beyond my scope. I can't fix what's going on in your mind. I've taken the liberty of phoning a doctor friend of mine. He usually sees patients only from nine until noon and from two until five, but he said he would see you at one o'clock if you would like to talk to him."

"A. . . psychiatrist?" I hated even saying the word.

"Yes," Dr. Blair said abruptly. "I strongly suggest you talk to him, Ted. I don't understand these things you're going through or how they're affecting you. Dr. Davis does. I can treat the symptoms, but I cannot treat the cause. That's Dr. Davis' realm."

"Teddy, please, Dear," Mom said. "Make the appointment. This is tearing you apart."

"But a psychiatrist?" I objected. "I'm not crazy, Mom."

"Not yet, you aren't," Mom added. "Please. You owe the children that much. It takes more than a healthy body to be a father."

I looked from Mom to Dr. Blair, who nodded his head, then to Brad. He squeezed my hand and said, "I'm with them, Ted."

I sat there, looking down at the floor. A psychiatrist. What in hell would people think of me? "Oh, look!" they will say. "There goes Looney-Toon Teddy!" "He's whacko, that guy!" "Toys in the attic!" "I hear he sits alone in the dark and knits toques all day long!"

Lindsay suddenly appeared before me, walking up to where I was sitting on the examination table. "Please, Daddy," she said, "do it. I don't want you to go crazy like Mommy did."

As I watched, she melted into the floor of the examination room, much like the Wicked Witch of the West after Dorothy had splashed her with water. My twin sons sprang up from the spot upon which she had been standing.

"We just got a new Daddy," Justin began.

"We don't want you to go away so soon," Jeremy concluded.

My sons slowly extended themselves upward, changing into a pair of legs. The rest of the body sprouted out of their heads and then Dad was standing there. "Wat skort daar, my Sonskyn?"

"I'm sick, Dad," I told him as my eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sick and I'm scared. Help me."

Dad reached out to me and I reached out to him, but our hands couldn't touch, no matter how hard we stretched our arms. "Ek sal my bes doen om jou to help, my Sonskyn."

Dad suddenly fell to his back on the floor. A coffin appeared around him, hiding him inside it. The lid opened by itself and inside was my best friend. "If you don't help yourself, Teddy," Warren said from his eternal home, "how can we help you?"

The coffin began to sink into the floor. All about me, the room began to wash away like a screever's artwork in a sudden deluge of rain. Everyone disappeared and the walls became soft and white. . . and padded. My arms became bound tightly against my chest. I looked down at myself. My arms were crossed, the long, white sleeves of the thick, white jacket wrapped around my back and holding me fast and secure. I couldn't move them. Quiet footsteps approached me and I looked up. Justin and Jere, still dressed only in their shiny blue biker shorts, drew near. I was very relieved to see Justin alive again. It gave me some hope. Each carried a plate upon which sat a piece of coconut cream pie and a fork. I tried to hide from them, but there was nowhere for me to hide. Despite my efforts, my mouth opened up.

Justin used his fork to slice off the tip of the pie and brought it to my mouth. I was ravenously hungry and I ate the piece of pie he held out to me. Jere offered me the next bite.

"We'll take care of you, Dad," Justin said sweetly as he gave me another bite.

"Don't worry, Dad," Jere said. "We won't let anyone hurt you."

The rest of my family and friends - even JD and Archie and Joan and Terry - phased in behind them, becoming ghostly images through which I could see the padded walls beyond.

"We'll all] take care of you," they said as one.

"Stop it, all of you!" I shouted suddenly, clenching my eyes shut and slamming my hands over my ears. "I'll do it!"

(I'm afraid I don't remember this next bit. Brad filled in the blanks for me.)

"Teddy?" It was Mom's voice.

"I believe," the Doctor said, "he was having a waking dream."

"An hallucination?" Brad asked.

"In a manner of speaking. His thoughts are being transformed into dreams. You can tell it's not an hallucination. If it was, he would have been reacting to whatever he was seeing as if it were really there. His only reactions were his facial expressions. Has this happened to him before?"

I opened my eyes and took my hands away from my ears. I was back in the examination room once more. Brad took my hand again and squeezed it so hard that it began to hurt. He relaxed his grip after I said, "Ow!"

"Has this happened before, Ted?" Dr. Blair asked me.

"Has ‘what' happened?" I asked.

"No," Brad replied, taking over for me when I had no answer to give. "At least I don't think so. He sort of zones out like that sometimes. When he comes around again, things usually happen." To me, he said, "Ted, you said you will do it. What is it you'll do?"

I breathed a heavy sigh. "I'll talk to Dr. Davis," I told him. "I think I have to. If I don't I'm going to go nuts."

Brad hugged me then and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Pops," he whispered so softly I wasn't even certain I had heard him. I don't think anyone else did.

"Would you like me to make the appointment, Ted?" Dr. Blair asked.

I nodded.

He turned in his chair and rolled it toward the counter along the wall behind him where the telephone rested. He picked up the receiver, punched one key, and began speaking a moment later. "Would you call Dr. Davis and set up that appointment for tomorrow for Ted de Villiers, please? And confirm it for one o'clock. . . . Thank you. Call me back when you're finished."

He hung up the phone, turned, and rolled back to his original spot. "Okay, then. Here's what you're going to do, Ted. . ."

* * * * *

"I don't even like half the stuff on this diet," I said as I read the list Dr. Blair had given me.

"They're only suggestions, Dear," Mom said from the back seat of the car. Brad was driving. "You don't have to eat everything listed there."

"Well, you can just forget about the liver," I told her. "I hated liver when I was a kid and I don't like it now. And the Brussels sprouts, too, unless Brad wants to start sleeping with a gas mask on his face."

I heard him chuckling beside me. I hadn't intended it to be funny. It was meant to be a warning.

"If you would lend me your car this afternoon, Teddy, I'll go shopping whilst the boys are sleeping. Perhaps Bernice will go with me."

I nodded. "You can take the van if you wish," I told her. "It's easier to get things in and out."

"Oh, no, Dear," Mom objected quickly. "It's much to large for me to drive. I'd be terrified to do so. The car will suffice."

We fell silent then as my eyes scanned down the list.

"What in heck is arugula?"

* * * * *

"Is this really necessary?" I asked.

"You heard the doctor, Pops," Brad said with a hint of warning in his voice. "When you're not in the bathroom or at the doctor's appointment tomorrow, you're in bed until Monday morning."

"Can't we start tomorrow?"

Brad laughed a chipped-tooth laugh. "No. Now, come on. Even the twins don't give me this much trouble."

"Come on, Brad," I begged, "I hardly even got to hug them before you carted my ass off to the bedroom. Let me spend a little time with them at least."

"Until Monday morning, you're doing what I tell you to do, and I'm telling you to do what Dr. Blair told you to do."

With undisguised reluctance, I finished undressing down to my briefs and climbed into bed. Brad sat down beside me, resting his right arm on my chest and his hand on my cheek. His thumb tenderly stroked the skin there.

"There's light at the end of the tunnel now, Ted," he said, serious now. "Concentrate on that light because that's where we're all waiting for you."

I stared up into his handsome face throughout a long moment of silence. I knew he had a question he wanted to ask, and I knew which question it was. I could see his eyes asking it. "Yes, Brad," I told him, "you can kiss me."

He smiled first, then leaned forward to kiss me. It was a gentle, loving kiss and not one of passion. It was a kiss which told me that he loved me. It was a kiss which told me that he would always be there for me. It was a kiss which I enjoyed immensely.

He finished the kiss and looked down at me for a few long moments before standing up and going to the desk to finally finish his studying. I lay there in silence, thinking about everything Dr. Blair had told me. It was going to be rough, but it was necessary.

I didn't relish the thought of going to talk to a psychiatrist, either, but that was equally as necessary. I couldn't even talk to my family about my dreams, though. How was I possibly going to talk to a total stranger? Still, I had agreed to do so, and, in all seriousness, I needed to understand what was going on in my head. I would do it somehow.

Mom brought me a cup of herbal lemon tea and she brought Brad a mug of coffee. I hated him for being able to have coffee, but not for very long. I cold never hate Brad very long. At noon, Mom brought us lunch on a bed tray and set it over my lap as I sat up in bed. She took Brad's plate to the desk where he ate whilst finishing his studying.

Brad left after lunch for Toronto to write his final exam of the year and I was left alone in my bedroom. Mom came in once to bring me another cup of tea and to pick up my car keys. I spent the afternoon alone, watching the home movie DVDs Dad had made from the old Super-8 films. I watched the scenes with Warren and I over and over again and pausing them when I saw an image which made me feel particularly good. I didn't feel sad. The home movies were only about happy times. I cried twice.

Brad arrived home from his exam in time to have dinner with me. We sat up in bed to eat.

"One good thing about being here with you this weekend is that your Mom and I can sit down and figure out her gardens in the front yard."

"Do you have ideas for it?"

"Oh, yeah," Brad replied eagerly. I knew he was trying to keep me preoccupied. I felt as though I should have resented him for it, but I didn't. "I've got a few plans done up already. Between the two of us, we should be able to come up with something she really likes."

"Are you still thinking of putting in a pond?"

"Yup. With a waterfall."

"She'll like that," I told him. "Think you can do it?"

"Oh, I've been doing my homework, Pops," Brad said. He could not hide the excitement in his voice. "I know what I have to do and how to do it. It will be beautiful."

I had an idea what was involved in building a pond with running water. I'd seen Charlie build enough of them on Ground Force. "Are you sure you can fit it into the budget?"

"If I buy the materials myself, yeah. The kits are too expensive and you're pretty limited with what you end up with. This way, I can make it as big as I want and any way I want."

"What about the fish?"

"That might be a bit of a problem. If they stay in there all year, I have to make they pond deep enough so it doesn't freeze to the bottom. A heater or a pump will keep the ice from forming on top so your Mom can feed them. The biggest problem is that it would have to be really deep. Below the frost line, and that could be dangerous if anyone fell in."

"How deep?"

"At least two metres," Brad replied.

"Ouch," I said.

"Yeah, I know. I'll talk to your Mom. I think we should make it shallower and move the fish inside for the winter months. All they would need is a small, plastic swimming pool. Even without the fish, though, the pond would still attract wildlife. Frogs, turtles. Things like that."

"I really think Mom would enjoy the Koi. We could move them in and out for her."

"That's what I was thinking, too."

A sudden cry came down the hall to us. "That's Jeremy," I said as I started to set my bed tray aside.

Brad grabbed my arm. "Your Mom and Dad will handle it," he said firmly.

"Brad, please," I begged. "Jeremy needs me."

Brad's hand remained securely on my arm, holding me fast. "Whatever it is, they'll handle it. Besides, Terry's still here. She said she'd stay at least until the twins are in bed. She'll come in all weekend if necessary. Mark's there, too. Which reminds me. He'll be in here soon to change the sheets."

I settled back into the pillows. "I feel so useless."

"It's only for a few days, Pops," Brad reminded me. "You stay here and you eat and you rest. Nothing else."

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You have to, Ted. Like it or not, you have to do it."

"I know." I glanced at the door. Jeremy's cries still came through it, but they were calming down quickly.

"See?" Brad said. "They're handling it without you. They'll do what they have to do and we'll do what we have to do." His hand came away from my arm. "Now, come on. Finish your dinner."

Brad stayed with me the rest of the evening, making sure I took my blood pressure meds at the proper time. Mark changed the bed for me and Mom brought in more tea and even allowed the kids to come in to say ‘goodnight' when it was time for them to go to bed. I sat up on the side of my bed, holding them in my lap and hugging them as long as Brad would allow me to. The twins were confused, but Lindsay, when it was her turn, was deeply concerned. Being older, she had a better grasp on what was going on. She sat in my lap, resting her head against my shoulder as I tried to soothe and reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

Brad allowed me one little luxury - some quality time with my daughter - but only because he could see that she needed it as much as I did. I set her on the floor for a moment until I pulled on my robe, then took her hand and led her to Grandma's rocking chair. I sat in it and picked Lindsay up, setting her into my lap. She curled up against my chest and I leaned my head against the high back of the chair. I began to rock, just like I did when my Sweetheart was a baby.

"Ted," Brad's voice said quietly, "come on. Wake up."

I opened my eyes. I was still sitting in the rocking chair, but I was alone now.

"Lindsay?"

"She's in her bed," Brad said. "Your Dad carried her in after she fell asleep and put her to bed."

"What time is it?" I asked. I sat up, a little stunned at how stiff I felt.

"Eleven o'clock," Brad replied. "Come on, time for you to go to bed."

"I don't even remember falling asleep," I said as Brad lifted me from the chair. "I was rocking with Lindsay and then you were waking me up." My legs began to sag beneath me and Brad grabbed me around the waist with one arm. "Gee-sus, Murphy, I'm tired," I said.

"Probably the sleeping pill kicking in."

I spun my head around to look at him. "Sleeping pill?"

"I gave it to you awhile ago," he explained. "You don't remember?"

"No."

"Well, never mind. Let's get you to bed."

Brad walked me to the my side of the bed and slipped my robe off my shoulders, then helped me into bed. He slipped off his own robe, turned out the lights, and climbed into bed beside me. He kept his distance, probably to try and avoid any undue excitement and anxiety of my part, but he reached out and held my hand. I was grateful for the contact. I felt less alone.

The last thing I heard was Brad's whispering voice saying, "Love you, Pops."

If I had any dreams that night, I don't remember them.

To Be Continued​

 

[latigolad78374]

Not Pregnant???!!!!! All that worry for not pregnant. God I love this story.

 

[botboy03]

Well thats a relief that Ted isn't pregnant. Thanks for another great Chapter Neil.

Zac

 

[Kyanimal]

Neil ...

I'm not sure if even You realize it, but your story has a very Natural ebb and flow. This chapter is an excellent "relax" after the previous one. Throughout, there has been Excitement, Drama, Exuberation and Tension, followed by Compassion, Love and Comfort. Emotional "Highs" with Soothing "Lows". In a way ... it has it's own "Heart Beat" underlying the actual events.

It is not only your ability to create near "picture perfect" scenerios in the minds of you readers, but also the "tempo" at which you've been presenting it all, which has successfully "Captured" so many of us!

AWESOME!!

THANK YOU!!!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[kcm17480]

Great writing and a great chapter. Thanks, Ken

 

[upyrkilt469]

Once again, great. I can hardly wait for Friday to read some in the saga of Ted, Brad and family. Vic

 

[Fiorino]

What a nice easy flow this story had, can't wait for more
Fiorino

 

[gsdx]

Neil,

I hope that you didn't have to personally go through whatever-it-is that is affecting Ted. Your story is so convincingly written that I'm thinking that you, or someone close to you has had a brush with this. Either that, or your research is excellent.

Thank you for sharing this with us,
WinGator

I shall say only that research was not necessary.

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part 112​

June had begun the day before - the day I went to see Dr. Blair. It hadn't felt like the first day of June. It had felt more like the first day of May - unseasonably cool. Spring had arrived late in South-Central Ontario. The leaves on the trees and the flowers in the gardens had been many weeks behind their time. The dismal grey of Winter had lasted much longer than I could remember. Now, Summer appeared to be slow in arriving as well.

The meteorologists predicted a long, hot Summer, but there was no sign of it anywhere. Instead of the temperatures hovering around the mid to upper twenties where they should have been, they seemed to be tied to the twenty degree mark, and the leash to which they were attached barely allowed the temperatures to stray only a few degrees above that.

People's moods were sour, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Summer heat. Whether this had any affect on my mood, I don't know. I don't think so, personally. I had far-too-many other things on my mind to worry about. I had no time to wonder if and when Summer would actually arrive.

Brad was still holding my hand when I woke up in the morning on the second day of June. He had moved closer to me during the night and, although our bodies weren't actually touching, he was now sharing my pillow.

I tilted my head carefully so I wouldn't wake him. He was such a beautiful young man when he was awake, but he was even more beautiful when he slept. Even though I had to piss, for the first time in a very long time I was truly enjoying looking at Brad. There were still no sexual stirrings, but the sight of him made me feel all warm and happy inside.

His scent engulfed me, surrounded me, and seeped its way into my skin so he could be with me always. I wanted him there with me, yet something inside me was keeping him away from me. But, for those few, brief moments that morning, a tiny hole cracked the wall I had built around myself and Brad was getting inside. I felt a single tear leave the corner of my eye and roll down my temple and into my hair.

I truly wanted things to be better. I truly wanted to be with Brad again, to feel him inside me and to feel myself inside him. To touch him and taste him. I truly wanted all that, but something inside me screamed

 

[gsdx]

My apologies. I hadn't noticed that it deleted a whole lot after I edited it. Here is the complete chapter:

WATCHING BRAD
Part 112​

June had begun the day before - the day I went to see Dr. Blair. It hadn't felt like the first day of June. It had felt more like the first day of May - unseasonably cool. Spring had arrived late in South-Central Ontario. The leaves on the trees and the flowers in the gardens had been many weeks behind their time. The dismal grey of Winter had lasted much longer than I could remember. Now, Summer appeared to be slow in arriving as well.

The meteorologists predicted a long, hot Summer, but there was no sign of it anywhere. Instead of the temperatures hovering around the mid to upper twenties where they should have been, they seemed to be tied to the twenty degree mark, and the leash to which they were attached barely allowed the temperatures to stray only a few degrees above that.

People's moods were sour, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Summer heat. Whether this had any affect on my mood, I don't know. I don't think so, personally. I had far-too-many other things on my mind to worry about. I had no time to wonder if and when Summer would actually arrive.

Brad was still holding my hand when I woke up in the morning on the second day of June. He had moved closer to me during the night and, although our bodies weren't actually touching, he was now sharing my pillow.

I tilted my head carefully so I wouldn't wake him. He was such a beautiful young man when he was awake, but he was even more beautiful when he slept. Even though I had to piss, for the first time in a very long time I was truly enjoying looking at Brad. There were still no sexual stirrings, but the sight of him made me feel all warm and happy inside.

His scent engulfed me, surrounded me, and seeped its way into my skin so he could be with me always. I wanted him there with me, yet something inside me was keeping him away from me. But, for those few, brief moments that morning, a tiny hole cracked the wall I had built around myself and Brad was getting inside. I felt a single tear leave the corner of my eye and roll down my temple and into my hair.

I truly wanted things to be better. I truly wanted to be with Brad again, to feel him inside me and to feel myself inside him. To touch him and taste him. I truly wanted all that, but something inside me screamed ‘No!'

Perhaps Dr. Davis could shed some light on the situation - if I could get up the guts to talk to him about it. Would that even be fair to Brad, though? I mean, talking to someone else about our personal lives without him being present? More than that, could I even talk to a perfect stranger about it? Sure, I'd talked to Nathan and Barry about our sex lives, and even to Warren when his curiosities concerning Brad's prowess became too much for him to keep quiet, but they were different. They were my friends. They were gay and they understood. Could Dr. Davis understand as well or would he decide that my being gay and in love with Brad was the reason I was in such a shit hole at them moment?

I ultimately decided that I would make a decision later.

Lindsay had already gone to school when I awoke, and it wasn't until Mom knocked on the bedroom door just before ten o'clock that Brad finally awoke.

"Teddy," she called softly through the door, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom."

"Would you like some breakfast now?"

"Sure."

"Is Bradley awake?"

"I am now," Brad called back.

"I shall prepare it immediately," Mom replied. "Two full English breakfasts coming right up."

Brad looked at me and asked, "Is that on your diet?"

I smiled and shook my head. "I doubt it, but it's on Mom's diet."

Brad chuckled, and then, out of habit, leaned over me to give me a ‘good morning' kiss. He yanked his head away when he suddenly remembered the doctor's suggestions. "I'm sorry, Ted," he apologized. "I guess we both have habits we have to put on hold for awhile."

"It's okay, Brad," I told him. "The little kisses are fine. They don't make me want to get up and run around the block. But, right now, I've got to run to the little boy's room before I do something I haven't done since I was a kid."

I climbed out of bed and grabbed my bathrobe, pulling it on as I headed for the door. When I reached the hallway, I could hear the twins playing in the livingroom and I could hear Mom working in the kitchen. I stepped quickly into the bathroom and closed the door, standing in front of the toilet to relieve myself. Few things feel as good as a morning piss.

I grabbed a quick shower and found Brad in the bathroom, waiting for me to finish. As I dried myself, he jumped into the shower. He was still in there when I returned to the bedroom to get dressed.

I took the time alone to phone work and to talk to JW. I filled him in on everything, that I was suffering from exhaustion, and told him that it would probably be another week before I could get back to work. I didn't mention the anxiety or the psychiatrist. I merely told him that I had more appointments with my doctor and a specialist. JW assured me that they were managing, but he asked me (or perhaps I should say ‘begged' me) to see if it would be okay for me to be On Call to help handle the more serious issues they were encountering. I told him I would ask.

JW was quick to tell me that my job was safe, but he wanted me to keep him up-to-date in case he needed to make some temporary arrangements. I assured him that I would certainly do that.

Brad returned as I was hanging up the phone, closing the door behind him and picking out his wardrobe for the day. He was just finishing getting dressed when a knock came to the door. Brad opened the door. It was Mom, Terry, and the twins. Our breakfast was ready.

Justin and Jeremy came in first, each carrying a folding TV tray. Mom and Terry each carried a tray of food and drink. Brad and I quickly set up the trays, locking the legs into position and setting them upright. I was enormously pleased to see a mug of coffee on my tray when Mom set it in front of me.

"Can we stay while you eat, Daddy?" Justin began.

"We won't be any trouble," Jeremy finished for him.

I looked to my left where Brad sat beside me. My eyes begged him, but my voice simply asked, "Please?"

I could see this was as hard for Brad as it was for me. "The doctor said. . ."

"I know what the doctor said, Brad," I interrupted, "but I need my kids. I'll let them go back as soon as we're finished eating. I promise."

Brad looked at the twins for a long moment while Mom and Terry stood behind them, waiting patiently. "Will you be good?" he asked.

"We'll be good," Justin said. His eyes lit up with excitement and his smile of anticipation sparkled. "We promise."

"We'll be as quiet as little mouses," Jeremy said with equal excitement and enthusiasm.

Again, Brad looked at them, thinking. Finally, he said, "Okay."

In a flash, the twins were on the bed with us, Justin sitting to my right and Jeremy sitting to Brad's left.

"I'll take the trays out when we're done," Brad said to Mom.

Mom smiled at him. "Terry and I shall enjoy a nice cup of tea, then. Come, Terry." They left us alone to eat.

The twins were true to their word. They seemed content just to be sitting with us again. Justin snuggled as close to me as he dared and watched as every bite of my breakfast went from my plate to my mouth. I had just cut off a slice of sausage when Justin said, "Can I have a bite, Daddy?"

I held the fork out to him, the piece of sausage speared onto the ends of the tines. Justin opened his mouth, leaned forward, and bit the piece off the fork and began chewing as he looked up at me. His smile was so cute. He looked so supremely happy. I began to share my breakfast with him, aware that Brad was doing the same with Jeremy.

I began to feel suddenly warm and I could feel my heart beating inside my chest, but thought nothing of it until I felt a droplet of perspiration roll down my forehead and onto my nose.

"Daddy," Justin said, "why is your hand shaking."

I looked at my hand, aware that everyone else was looking at it, too. Beads of sweat broke out on my brow as I strained to set the fork back onto my plate. I knew Brad was staring at me. I knew he thought I looked stupid. I knew the twins were staring at me, too. They were all staring at me. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to be somewhere else that wasn't there. But, I knew that, as soon as I moved, I'd do something else stupid and they'd all start laughing at me. My heart began to pound and it was getting very difficult for me to breathe.

It was happening again. I realized it suddenly. I didn't understand what was happening the first time in my office, but now I did. I had to get my boys out of the room.

"Justin," I said quickly, "I need you and Jeremy to go with Brad, okay?"

"Are you sick again, Daddy?" he asked. I didn't dare look at him, but I could hear the concern and worry in his tiny voice.

"Yes," I said. "Please. Hurry and go with Brad."

"Ted?"

I clenched my eyes shut and whispered urgently, "Get them out of here."

Brad almost knocked his TV table over getting to his feet. "Come on, guys," he said as the twins scrambled off the bed. "Daddy isn't feeling very well."

They weren't moving fast enough. They took forever to get off the bed. They were all watching me. I had my eyes closed, but I knew they were watching me. Knowing that made my heart race even faster. "Get out!" I shouted in my mind. "For God's sake, get out!!" My palms began to hurt from the fingernails pressing into them. I unclenched my fists and wiped my forehead with the back of my arm. Sweat coated it when I took my arm away. I could feel it.

"Oh, God," I thought to myself, "what do I do now?"

I was close to hyperventilating and my ears throbbed with each tympani-pounding beat of my heart. It had happened so very quickly. It had came out of nowhere and hit me full force.

Sweat was dripping off my cheeks and chin now, falling to my shirt. Inside my shirt, I could feel the sweat rolling down my chest and back. Perspiration flowed from my armpits and down the sides of my body, soaking into my cotton material and making it stick to me. Even my hair was sweating and I could feel it flowing down my neck.

"Bathroom," I said to myself. "Get to the bathroom." I chanced opening my eyes. No-one was in the room with me. I was alone. I tried to stand, but my legs felt so weak and unstable that I sat back down again. My heart felt like it was going to explode inside me and I began to panic. In desperation, I grabbed a pillow and pulled off the pillow slip, using the cloth to wipe my face.

"Oh, God," I said again, and I think I said it out loud.

Then I could feel a hand on my shoulder. Warren's voice came to me. "Breathe, Teddy," he said calmly. "Concentrate. In through your nose and out through your mouth. As slowly as you can. Remember?"

I knew I was imagining the voice. I knew Warren wasn't really there, but I knew that he had helped me before, and he would help me again as long as I could remember what he had told me a few days earlier. I closed my eyes again and concentrated on my breathing. It was difficult at first, and I failed dismally.

"Don't give up, Teddy," Warren's voice urged me. "Relax and concentrate. You can do it. Relax and let your body go. Forget about it. Think only about your breathing. Concentrate, Teddy. Concentrate only on your breathing."

I wiped the sweat from my face again with the pillow slip and began again. I closed my mouth and forced myself to inhale as slowly as I could through my nose and then to exhale just as slowly through my mouth. "Concentrate," the voice said. "Relax and concentrate." I could hear Warren's words over and over again, repeating themselves and drilling themselves into my brain. I latched onto those words and wouldn't let go of them. Everything else faded from my mind except my breathing. I was gaining control. Slowly but surely, I was winning. That encouraged me and I persisted. My heart stopped pounding and the sweating ceased as well, but I paid no mind. I continued breathing and concentrating.

It was finally over and I sagged in exhaustion. I sat there for awhile, recovering. I was drenched in sweat. Even my jeans and my underwear and my socks were damp. It was over, ending almost as quickly as it had begun, and the only thing remaining was a very tired and very wet man.

This one had been bad - worse even than the episode in my office earlier that week - but Warren had pulled me through it.

My eyes were still closed as I thought about what had happened. I realized that I had felt it coming, but I had missed the symptoms and ignored it. I would never ignore it again. Understanding the enemy was the beginning of winning the battle.

Warren's voice was gone now, but I could still feel a hand on my shoulder. "Ted? Are you okay?" It was Brad. He spoke very softly.

I sucked in a deep breath and said, "Yeah, I think so."

"What happened?" he asked. "What was that?"

I looked at him, feeling quite myself once more, even though my clothes were soaked with sweat and I was in need of another shower. "That was a panic attack."

"Gee-sus, Murphy," he whispered. "You scared me half to death."

"That makes two of us," I said weakly.

"I didn't know what to do, Ted," he said. "What should I do next time? How can I help?"

"The only thing you can do is to get people away from me or get me away from the people."

Brad nodded. "What happened? What brought it on?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "I don't think anything has to ‘bring it on'. It just happens."

"Gee-sus, Murphy," he repeated.

"Yeah," I said as I looked back at my unfinished breakfast. "Gee-sus, Murpy."

* * * * *

I was showered and changed. At my insistence, I went out to the livingroom to show the twins that I was feeling okay now. They seemed greatly relieved and didn't object when I returned to our bedroom with Brad to finish our breakfast, nor did they ask if they could join us. Mom had reheated our breakfast for us and we ate without further conversation or incident.

Brad left me alone after that so I could rest before my appointment with Dr. Davis. As I lay on the bed, I thought about what I would talk about and I realized that I had no idea. In the end, I decided that I would play it by ear and follow Dr. Davis' lead. I was certain he would be able to sort it all out and make sense of it.

Brad drove me to Dr. Davis' office. We left early enough that we would be able to find the place and also a place to park, arriving fifteen minutes early.

At the appointed time, I entered Dr. Davis' office and met him. Brad remained out in the reception room.

I'm not sure what I expected to see. Perhaps someone like Sigmund Freud sitting in a leather arm chair, wearing a black, wool suit and looking at me over a pair of spectacles which dangled at the end of his nose and holding a notepad and pen. Perhaps he would speak with some unknown heavy European accent. Perhaps he would have grey hair and the obligatory grey moustache and goatee. There would be the mandatory ‘couch' there as well for me to lie upon and there would be huge, glass-doored shelves lining the walls, holding thousands of psychological books and tomes.

There was none of that. Dr. Davis reminded me of a young Robert Redford in his The Sting days. His smile was pleasant and his voice friendly and invigorating. He was dressed in comfortable shoes, tan slacks, and an unbuttoned, short-sleeved white shirt with a soft, blue, pull-over, sleeveless sweater. He set me immediately at ease.

There was no couch upon which to lie. There were only three comfortable-looking, black-leather chairs, two of which faced a larger, single chair. A small, round table set between them upon which sat a small audio tape recorder. There was a small wooden desk and chair set against one wall behind which hung a number of black-framed certificates. A single, small bookcase sat on the floor near the desk.

The lights were not dim, but subdued, and the teal paint colour on the walls immediately relaxed me and made me feel comfortable and secure. A large plant stand stood beneath each of the two large windows, each stand laden with a large assortment of well-cared for plants. Except for a few pieces of landscape art on the walls, green carpet on the floor, and soothing drapes on the windows, there was little else in the room. It was comfortable and cozy and designed to make people feel at ease.

Dr. Davis indicated the two chairs with a sweep of his hand and I sat. He took the chair opposite me. "I prefer to tape these sessions," he said in his pleasant, manly voice. "Do you mind?"

I shrugged my indifference and he leaned forward to start the recorder.

I sat there for a few moments, not sure what to do. "I don't know what I'm supposed to talk about," I said finally.

"Neither do I," Dr. Davis said with a smile. "Why don't you just start talking and see what happens?"

I planted my hands on my knees and looked down at the tape recorder, watching the wheels inside spinning around and around. I took a deep breath and said, "Okay. I guess I should tell you that I'm gay."

"Is that important?"

"I don't know," I said. "Is it?"

Dr. Davis shrugged one shoulder. "We'll see. Is that your friend out in the waiting room?"

"Yes. He lives with me and my family."

Dr. Davis nodded. "Why don't you start there, then? Tell me about your family."

I began talking and found the words coming easier and easier. Before I knew it, I had talked for almost an hour. In the end, I had told him about my daughter and adopting the twins, my divorce and my fight to get Lindsay, Warren's surgery coming up in less than a week, and even Connie's up-coming parole hearing. I was talking to him about my relationship with Brad, our engagement and wedding, and even our recent ‘difficulties' in the ‘sex' department. I found Dr. Davis very easy to talk to, and he seemed to understand our situation.

When he called an abrupt end to our session to inform me that my time was almost up, Dr. Davis asked me, "Are you available for another session tomorrow?"

This surprised me. Tomorrow was Saturday. "I suppose so," I told him. "I won't have to pay you overtime, will I?"

He smile was pleasant after looking at his emotionless face for almost an hour. "No," he assured me. "I've known Brian - Dr. Blair - since high school. I'm doing this as a special favour to him. My usual fees will apply."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay, tomorrow is fine."

"And next week?"

"Sure. How many sessions is this going to take?"

Again, he smiled. "Fewer than you may think, I believe."

I sat upright in the chair. "You know what my problem is?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he said, "Will you excuse me a moment?" Without waiting for my response, he stood and left the room.

He soon returned and sat in his chair once more. "I met your friend," he said. "Brad. . . ‘Hayes', was it?"

"Yes."

"He sounds like a nice young man."

"Thank you," I replied.

Dr. Davis told me three things. The first was that he had made an emergency appointment for tomorrow - Saturday - for the same time. There was much more he felt I needed to say. He also made two more appointments for Monday and Tuesday as well, emphasizing that he would be available for more during the week if he felt they were necessary.

The second thing he told me made me happy to hear.

The third was the last thing I ever expected - nor wanted - to hear, especially when he told me why.

"I can't," I said as tears filled my eyes and threatened to overflow.

"You must," Dr. Davis said firmly.

I was a zombie when I left his office and walked toward the reception area. Brad rose quickly to his feet and joined me there, but I barely took notice of him. I was still on the verge of crying and knew I would do so if I dared to look at him. I got the list of my appointments from the receptionist and headed for the door. Brad followed closely.

"Ted, what is it?" he whispered frantically.

"Take me home," was all I could say to him.

We rode home in silence and entered the house. Mom met me at the door, but I walked past her, telling Brad to wait until I called him. The twins were already in their room having their afternoon nap. I walked down the hall to our bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I fell flat onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow, and I cried.

I cried for a long time before I was able to get control of my emotions once more. When I felt I was ready, I went to the bathroom and washed my face. It made me feel better physically, but not any better for what I had to do.

In the hallway, I called out for Brad, then went inside the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed. Brad came in.

"Close the door," I told him.

He did so, then came to sit beside me when I patted the mattress.

I sat there, gathering my courage. I could smell Brad beside me and I could feel his right thigh and shoulder nudging my left side. I slid away from him. I couldn't say what I had to say when he was touching me.

I closed my eyes, taking several deep, calming breaths. They calmed me, but they did nothing to make me feel better about what I had to say to him.

"I think. . ." I began, but the words caught in my throat and the rest of them refused to come out. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes once more.

"Dr. Davis said. . ." and the same thing happened. I couldn't finish the sentence.

I still couldn't look at Brad. I felt him move closer to me, putting his arm around my back and hugging me to him. As much as I didn't want him to do that, I found that I couldn't make myself stop him. "For God's sake, Ted. . ."

Brad's voice was cracking and full of agony and fear.

"Tell me!" he begged.

I couldn't tell him.

All I could do was to slip my engagement ring from my finger and give it back to Brad.

To Be Continued​