In the Silks (19 page)

Nope, not going there.

When they were done, Henry went to sit on the sofa but his mother stopped him.

“Henry I love you, but take your butt home.”

“What Ma?  You’re throwing me out?” Henry asked surprised.

“No, if you really want to stay you’re always welcome. This is your home, but I have a feeling your avoiding someone or something and you know how I feel about that.”

Henry just nodded, he was never a good liar in general but when it came to his mother it was damn near impossible. One of the main reasons that he was always taking off so fast, well, at least lately.

“Which is it, you just want to stay or you’re avoiding?”

Henry answered with a sigh, “Avoiding,” he added, “Not that I don’t like spending time with you, Ma.”

Frannie patted her son’s arm, “That’s what I thought.”

“Ma.”

“No, it’s okay, I told you that,” she laughed. “I’m going to bed, take your ass home and fix whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He still hesitated.

“Henry, if you stay, I will force you to tell me everything.”

Henry's mouth dropped open. He was not going to call her bluff.

“Oh, close your mouth! You look like a guppy. I don’t know your business,” she added skeptically, “not sure if I want to. But if you stay, I will pry it out of you.”

Henry threw his hands up in front of his chest in a stopping motion, “Enough said, I’m going, I’m going.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and fled through the front door. He didn’t look back but called to his mother to lock the house up.

“Good night Henry,” she called back.

When Henry got home and was settled in for the night he turned the phone back on. No missed calls but there were a few texts from friends, surprisingly. He hadn’t really seen any friends lately but he didn’t really hang out with many people outside of his family. It sounded pathetic when he thought about it, that was how he’d always been. He got along with people well enough but he was shy and always afraid that people could read him like an open book. That was terrifying to him. Ryan seemed to do that, but with Ryan he didn’t feel so terrified.  A little amazed, but also comforted by it.

Interesting
.

He would have to chew on that more. He broke off the thought and went back to checking his phone. He had one message from Annie. There were two messages from Ryan the first one read: Decided to go to NYC to see the show.

The next: We can talk when I get back.

Well there it was, that
talk
meant the end, he wasn’t entirely sure that that was a bad thing even though his gut twisted at the thought. He was pissed off this morning but leaving the way he did was pretty fucked up. Once he had time to cool down today, he had realized that but he was still upset and wasn’t sure how to handle it, so he just hadn’t. He didn’t reply to the messages. Henry attempted to distract himself by getting his things ready for work the following day. Then he went to bed with the help of some Tylenol p.m. hoping to quell the dull headache that had been dogging him most of the day and night.

Chapter 19

I
T WAS Thursday at around four o’clock in the afternoon when Ryan texted him. Henry had taken a half day so that he could help get his father settled at home; they had released him about noon that day. He was just leaving the grocery store with his sister Julie driving when Henry’s message alert went off. The week had been torturous, between his father being in the hospital and the situation with Ryan, Henry’d had a steady headache since Sunday morning. At work he tried to push it all back but even then it was difficult.

Ryan:
I’m heading home, can you come by tonight?

Henry waited a good five minutes, gnawing on his lip and watching the traffic out the window before he responded. He knew answering took him one step closer to things being over and he was dreading that.

Henry:
Yeah okay what time?

Ryan:
Like 8 I’ll text you when I get to Mass.

Henry:
K

They got back to the house and unloaded the groceries then Henry headed home to get ready. He ordered himself a meatball sub, but once it was there he couldn’t imagine eating it. Instead he drank a few beers to try and calm his nerves, that didn’t really work.

When he pulled up to Ryan's, he parked and walked over to that corner where he could see in Ryan’s window. When he looked up he could see the loft was dark.  He was disappointed but then he remembered Ryan had said that he would text him once he was in state. Henry had been too anxious so his mind just went with eight. He drove his motorcycle around the corner so that if Ryan pulled up he wouldn’t look like a total stalker. Then he waited, he waited over an hour and no Ryan. He considered going to Pat’s but he was too upset and feared he would open his mouth and tell truths that he wasn’t ready to tell. He also wasn’t sure that Tara wasn’t still prepared to rip his head off, which was a very good possibility. So with a resigned sigh, he went back home instead.

His hurt turned to anger once he was home. Henry got ready for bed, now it was after ten and still nothing from Ryan. The headache came back with a fury and Henry went to old reliable, Tylenol p.m. and headed to bed. Before this week, that bottle had been pretty much full and close to expiration, now it was almost empty.

The next day Henry went to work with still no word from Ryan. He refused to text or call, him, he was too pissed. Had Ryan done that on purpose? He couldn’t be that immature, could he?

That night he went out with Pat to a sports bar and his brother hadn’t prodded him all night. Pat wasn’t stupid, he knew something was up. For some odd reason, it was if Pat knew to back off. Maybe he was reading it wrong but Pat didn’t push him and Henry knew he wasn’t the best company tonight. He didn’t have a good poker face, his brother knew that. If he was reading the situation correctly, he was grateful to his brother for knowing not to push him. Henry wouldn’t open up though; he just drank his beer and threw darts. He almost clipped a few people heading for the bathrooms and finally Pat made them change to pool for safety’s sake.

The next morning Henry woke up sporting a mild hangover, but with new determination. He dressed and went over to the loft; if Ryan was there, he was dealing with this shit now. He couldn’t do this anymore, he was making himself crazy. Ryan wanted more assertive, he was about to get it. Before getting on his bike, Henry sent him a text telling him he was on his way.

He didn’t bother checking for a reply until he’d parked the bike and was standing on Ryan’s door step. While he was checking his phone, someone came out the door and Henry stepped through the open door. As he entered the building he looked at the phone again, no reply. When he got upstairs, he banged loudly on the door. Knowing that if Ryan was knocked out he probably wasn’t going to hear that. Then he called, hoping to hear the phone ringing, nothing. He hung up and called one more time, it was on the second ring when the door opened, Henry jerked backward. He hadn’t heard any noise from the other side. Ryan stood with one hand holding a blanket around himself and one braced on the door.

“You look like shit,” Henry said.  He hadn’t intended for
that
to be the first thing he said when he saw Ryan. He had an entire speech planned but Ryan really did look like death warmed over.

Ryan didn’t respond he just let go of the door and shuffled back to his room. Henry followed him in and locked the door behind him. Surveying the room; no one else appeared to be there. Ryan’s duffel bag was tossed on the floor near the sofa as were his shoes, keys, and phone. He followed Ryan into the bedroom, which smelled like vomit; if Henry had to guess, the discarded clothes at the end of the bed were the source. Henry had to put the back of his hand to his nose. Ryan just collapsed back in the bed and was snoring before Henry could get a word out.

Three hours later Henry had taken all of Ryan's dirty clothes to the laundry room in the basement, washed and dried them. He had them all back upstairs, folded and put away. Ryan never stirred. Henry tried to wake him several times with no luck. He took Ryan's keys and went to the grocery store, there was shit in his fridge He had a large back pack to carry everything. He didn’t get much, but when Ryan finally did get up, he’d need something to eat that wasn’t crap.

After he’d returned and put everything away, he sat on Ryan's sofa watching TV and checking on him every so often. Despite buying food he ended up ordering pizza for himself. At about seven-thirty that night Henry decided it was time for Ryan to get up.  He went to the bedroom and pulled Ryan out of the bed; he all but carried him to the bathroom to put him into the shower. Henry sat him on the toilet while he turned the water on and waited for it to warm up, Ryan’s head just lolling on the counter top.

“Come on,” Henry said as he tugged on Ryan’s shirt, forcing Ryan’s arms up. Henry tossed the shirt in the hamper. He wrapped his arms around Ryan’s chest and pulled him up. He started to pull at Ryan’s track pants, but Ryan picked his arms up enough to push them down his hips and lift his legs out of them. Henry walked him over to the shower, “Can you get in or do you need help?”

Ryan just shook his head. He didn’t even have his eyes open. Henry was just about to pull his shirt up to take it off so that he could climb in with Ryan but Ryan stepped in himself, one foot and then the other. Henry still held on to him; he kept one hand on Ryan and used the other to reach behind for the facecloth he’d left on the counter. He handed it to Ryan who held it under the spray. After a minute or so Ryan seemed to perk up, just a bit.

“You okay to finish? If not, I can help.”

“I got it,” Ryan said in a grainy voice.

Henry wasn’t so sure, he pulled the curtain shut to give Ryan some privacy but he stayed in the bathroom. He leaned against the sink, wanting badly to talk to Ryan; but had no idea where to begin. He was feeling so many emotions; he had come here angry and hurt, now he was still those things but he was also scared and felt responsible. Not for whatever Ryan had done, but he felt somewhat responsible for Ryan, or maybe protective of him would be more accurate. He knew that Ryan was a grown man but clearly he had some issues that he wasn’t dealing with. Henry could empathize, they may not be the same issues but they were issues, none the less.

He was momentarily pulled from his thoughts by the water turning off. He pulled a towel off the rack and held it open, waiting for Ryan to open the curtain. When Ryan pulled the curtain back he looked surprised to see Henry still there.

“Thanks,” he said as he took the towel from Henry and wrapped it around his waist.

Henry simply nodded at him. Ryan just looked back at him. Henry thought he looked a little sad.

“I’m going to get you some water and aspirin,” Henry said backing out of the bathroom.

Henry got a glass of water and the bottle of aspirin from Ryan’s kitchen and hurried into the bedroom. He put them on the nightstand and went to the closet to grab clean sheets. He changed the bedding as fast as he could. Assuming that Ryan would want to go right back to bed. As he made the bed, his thoughts drifted back to where they had been in the bathroom. He was still angry, he was still scared of losing Ryan, but there was something else now. Something that he’d kept pushing to the back of his mind, but today’s events had forced Henry to confront this particular reality. He was scared
for
Ryan. Moderation was not something that Ryan seemed to have a grasp on when it came to drinking and if Henry had to guess, he’d have to say that extended to drugs as well. Henry knew he smoked, that didn’t bother him so much. But the coffee made it clear that it went further than weed. Then there was the state that he was in right now, Ryan had to have gone all out when he was in New York. There were so many things he could be on right now. He wanted to ask him but honestly, he didn’t want to hear the answer.

When he stood up from picking up the dirty sheets he saw Ryan leaning against the wall watching him. He only had the towel on and his eyes were half closed.

“Hey, I remade the bed for you. The aspirin is over there. Try to drink the entire glass of water, okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan walked past him over to the side of the bed. Henry watched as he dropped the towel on the floor. Henry attempted to swallow around the lump in his throat.

Not the time.

Ryan took the aspirin and pretty much poured the glass of water down his throat. Before climbing in the bed and getting settled under the covers. He closed his eyes immediately. Henry wasn’t sure what to do so he took the linens to the bathroom to drop in the hamper and went back to the bedroom. He leaned against the wall, he didn’t want to leave but Ryan seemed okay for now.

“I put some groceries in the fridge for you. I know you wanted to talk but it can wait. Just call if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” Ryan asked without opening his eyes or moving.

“Well…” Henry wasn’t sure what to say.

“Stay, please,” Ryan asked still unmoving.

Henry pushed off the wall, walked over to the bed sat down and pulled off his shoes before lying down on the top of the blanket. He rolled to his side and watched Ryan. After a few minutes Ryan began to snore. He rolled to his back resting his arm on his forehead.

What the fuck was he getting himself into?

He had set a pail by the bed for Ryan earlier so he should be good for the rest of the night. Henry tried to get some sleep despite the early hour and the whole uncomfortable situation. His mind was racing but he was just mentally exhausted by it all. Whatever happened with him and Ryan tomorrow would be dealt with tomorrow. For tonight just lying there next to him was good enough.

When Henry opened his eyes it was still dark out. He didn’t feel that refreshed so he couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. He wasn’t sure why he’d woken up but when he rolled to his side he found Ryan staring at him. Before he could ask if he was okay or say anything else Ryan spoke.

“Have you been here all day?” Ryan asked.

“What time is it?”

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know?”

“Yes you do.”

“Yes I do,” Henry sighed. Henry scooted a little closer to Ryan and he could see that his eyes were glossy.

Was he crying?

Henry reached out and wiped a tear from his face.

“I'm so mad at you!” Henry scolded.

Ryan nodded.

“I can’t do what you do.”

Ryan nodded.

“I was so worried about you!”

Ryan nodded again. He wanted to speak, Henry could see it, but when he started the words caught on a sob and then he just let go.  Henry moved in and held him, sliding one hand under his head and one around his back. He held Ryan close while he let it all out and finally fell back to sleep. If he’d been unsure before, he wasn’t anymore. It was clear to Henry now that there was more going on with Ryan than he’d been aware of. Henry couldn't fault him; he wouldn’t, because he was keeping secrets of his own.