Second Chances (14 page)

Soon enough though, I heard his voice calling out from the kitchen for me to get my ass up and come get a cup. I got up and put on my underwear and jeans and went into the kitchen. I put my hand on his shoulder and brushed my lips against his forehead.

“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.

“Not necessary,” he said as he patted my hand.

After I took the coffee from Antonio, and some of my brain cells started to function again, I realized I needed to call Brian. I needed to hear his voice and make sure he was okay. Antonio left the room to give me some privacy.

“Morning, sweetie,” his sleepy voice said.

“Hey, sunshine, how’re you feeling this morning? Did you take your medicine on time? Any dizziness or—”

“Yes, Mother. I took it last night and this morning already. And no, Mother, I don’t have any dizziness or anything else. No seizures. I ate a bagel and laid back down. This bed is empty without you, though, Mother.”

“Smartass. I should’ve come home last night. I was okay. But Antonio said he called and you told him you wanted me to stay here. Did you already call work for me?” I asked.

“Damn, I didn’t know you wanted to play twenty questions. Yes, he called me and I told him to put you to bed there. He called me back after he made you lay down and said you were out like a light. And snoring. And yeah, I called your boss. Todd said to take the day and get some rest. No new word,” he added quietly.

“As long as you’re okay. And I don’t snore. I think I’ll take Antonio out to breakfast to thank him for letting me sleep here last night. Anything you need?” I asked.

“Just for you to come home. And Mark?”

Antonio came back into the room as he pulled on his shirt. “Yeah?” I said, and watched Antonio cover up that broad chest.

“Drive down Edgewood and Auburn Avenue just once. For me,” he almost whispered.

My heart broke a little more. This’d hit Brian very hard too. I wondered how many Robbies he’d seen while he was in foster care. How many times he thought about running. How close he came to being on the streets at fourteen, fifteen. I passed a hand over my eyes.

“Yeah, baby, I will. Say a little prayer. Love you and see you later,” I said.

“Love you too,” he said and hung up. I turned around and started looking for the rest of my clothes. I was grateful. Antonio really did take care of me last night. And this morning. And I felt… cherished.

Once I finished dressing, I saw that Antonio was dressed as well. “Come on, I’m taking you to breakfast. My treat. Thanks for letting me crash here. I didn’t know how tired I was,” I said.

“No problem. Any time. It was nice to have someone in the bed with me,” he said and turned and left the room. He looked embarrassed. I smiled, then it faltered.

It was nice to have someone be strong for me. But I could never say that.

W
E
HAD
breakfast at the Waffle House. I loved their pecan waffles, grits, and hash browns. Looked like I was going to have to get my ass back in the gym. I tried to keep the conversation light. Two things weighed so heavily on my mind, and I had no fucking control over either one. I also really didn’t want to get into either with Antonio. I dodged his questions about Brian’s meds. Not even my family knew. Well, except Dad. And Mom.

I still went to the cemetery and laid fresh flowers every month. A dozen fresh roses—eleven red and a single white one. Her father, who died before I was born, had told her a story about her grandfather, who was a barber. He had this one client who couldn’t pay, and he would always tell the guy, put flowers on my grave when I’m dead. When he died, the guy came to the funeral and put one white rose on the casket. For remembrance. And for years afterward, there would be that one white rose on his grave on the anniversary of his death, and my mom was always so touched by the thought.

So I laid a bouquet once a month, sometimes more if my heart was especially heavy, and talked to her. Now, I knew she wasn’t there. In fact, her spirit, soul, whatever was gone two days before her body knew it and gave up. But it gave me comfort to know she listened. Four years later, I still woke up some mornings and felt her love and spirit around me and it was like she had just finished telling me something.

But even my talks with her hadn’t eased my heart over the situation with Robbie. I shook myself and brought my attention back to Antonio. He gave me the evil eye and started asking me about Brian’s medications and why and what they were for. I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet, so I tried to keep the focus on Robbie.

I danced around his questions, which got me more hard looks. I think Antonio saw something in my eyes that let him know I really couldn’t talk about Brian right then. With a stare that let me know we were by no means done with this conversation, he sat back and crossed his arms. Thankfully, the waitress chose that moment to come by and drop off the check, so I grabbed it, and we made our way out of the restaurant.

Once we got into the car, I took a deep breath. While I regretted not being able to search the night before, a night of rest and some food had energized me more than I thought. I looked over to Antonio, and before I could even ask, he told me to take a quick drive around the park. “You remember what he looks like, right?” I asked. “He’s—”

“Dude, really? I know what he looks like. He spent an afternoon with my kid, I pay attention to the people Jason hangs out with and likes.” I could almost see the eye-roll I was sure went along with the smartass comment. “Just be careful driving, and I’ll watch out for him. The morning rush is about over, so the crowd should be cleared out. Well, except for the hawkers around Five Points.”

I drove as slowly as I could without pissing off the rest of the morning commuters, especially as we got closer to the MARTA station. The homeless and dealers and other folks looking to sell things, both legit and not, hung around this area, and there never seemed to be enough police presence to discourage any of it. Except when some big event came to town, then suddenly the streets were clean and you would walk around downtown without being hit on or hit up.

My gaze roamed the crowds and I hoped. Hoped for just a sight of Robbie to know he was okay. Hoped I could convince him to come back with me. Hoped nothing bad had happened and this hell would all be over. Just… hoped. I was lost in my thoughts when Antonio reached over and grabbed my arm. “There he is, Mark! Pull over, see if you can park somewhere,” he nearly shouted. He was as excited as I was.

I saw where he pointed. Robbie was talking to some older guy. I pulled the car over to the edge of the street and jumped out.

“Stay with the car, man. Let me see if I can talk to him,” I yelled back to Antonio.

I ran up to where the man was starting to put his hand on Robbie, and he saw me coming and took off, walking fast in the other direction. Robbie turned to me. He looked like he hadn’t bathed since he left, and was obviously on something.

“Hey, man, you wanna have a good time? I can suck your—” he started. Then he saw who I was and his face was full of shock. I saw it fall and his eyes tear up. He stood there like frozen to the spot.

“Robbie, let me help. Come with me, please. I promise I’ll make it better. I’ll fix things. Just come home with me,” I begged.

“Home? To your house?” he asked, a glimmer of hope flaring in his eyes through the drugs.

I stuttered for a moment. “No, back to Hope House. I can’t take you home, buddy, they won’t let you stay with me. I wish I could but I can’t. Please,” I pleaded. The light in his eyes, that sudden bright light I’d seen, flickered and went dull. He backed away and started running.

“Robbie, come back,” I yelled and ran after him. But he had a head start and ducked in and out of the crowd in front of the Five Points MARTA station. I lost sight of him but kept yelling his name.
God, please let me find this boy,
I prayed.

But I couldn’t, and after I made another circuit of the area, I finally gave up and went back to the car. “What happened? Where’s Robbie?” Antonio asked. He sat in the driver’s seat. I climbed in the passenger seat and laid my head back against the headrest and put on my seatbelt.

“Let’s just go. He wanted to come back to my house. I fucked up. I told him he couldn’t, and he ran again. I fucked up,” I said and my voice broke. The fucking tears started again. Antonio reached over and laid a strong hand on my thigh and squeezed.

“Look at me,” he said. I couldn’t. My eyes were squeezed shut and leaked tears. “Mark, look at me,” his voice commanded. I opened my eyes and turned my head on the headrest.

“I’ll find him. I’ll bring him home to you. I promise you that,” he said, voice solid and sure, eyes bright. I was so numb but I wanted to believe him so badly. I nodded and closed my eyes and laid my head back again.

I felt his hand grip my thigh again, and then gentle lips barely touched my cheek.

June 2005

T
HE
call came in on my cell phone about an hour after I got into work. “Mr. Jennings?” the voice asked.

“Yes, this is Mark Jennings. May I help you?” I said.

“Mr. Jennings, this is Emily O’Toole at Crawford Long. You’re listed as Brian Jacobs’s medical contact. Is that correct?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, and all the blood rushed out of my head and I was cold. So cold.

“Mr. Jennings, Mr. Jacobs’s been in an accident. I need you to come to the hospital so the doctors can talk to you about his condition. Can you do that for me, Mr. Jennings?” she said, her voice so calm and gentle.

It’s June in fucking Atlanta
, I thought. Why is it so cold?

“Yes, Ms. O’Toole, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where should I go to?” I managed to get out around the ice.

“Come to the emergency room. Ask for me. I’ll coordinate this. How long do you think it’ll take you, Mr. Jennings?” that competent voice asked.

“I’m already downtown. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I said.

“I’ll be waiting for you. Please be careful, Mr. Jennings. But please hurry,” she said.

Oh God. Hurry. This was it. I’m not ready. Please. I grabbed my keys and a file I kept at hand and, after I ducked in to tell Todd’s assistant I had an emergency and would be gone the rest of the day, I got in my car and left.

I
MADE
it there in thirteen minutes. I parked in front of the emergency room and fucking dared them to tow me. I was inside in another forty-five seconds and demanded to see Emily O’Toole at the nurse’s station.

A solid woman with bright red hair came out to meet me. She was a little older than me, maybe forty. A touch over her ideal weight but tall and proud and she had freckles all across her smooth face. I found myself trying to memorize all these small details so I wouldn’t have to think about what barreled toward me.

“Mr. Jennings, I’m Emily. I just paged Dr. Amarti, and she’ll be here in just a moment. Please come with me,” she said. We walked back through the long hallway and stopped in front of a treatment room. The curtain was pulled shut, and I could hear machines and noises inside. I moved to go inside, and she laid a firm but gentle hand on my arm.

God, I hated hospitals. The cool professionalism. How they only saw the illness and the disease and the injuries. Fuck that. They
will
see me. See Brian. They’d done this when my mom died too.

(I stood outside the door, waiting to talk to the internist. Me and my dad. And when he did come, he was all business. I had to make him see me as a person, see Mom as something more than a diagnosis, a note in a chart. Not liver failure. Not another consult. “Call me Mark.” Look at me, damn it. “Tell me about my mother.” Talk to me. I had to make him see me.)

“Please, Mr. Jennings, would you wait for just a minute. I need to fill you in on what happened before you see Mr. Jacobs. You’re aware of his condition?” she asked. I thought I was prepared, I honest to God did, but nothing prepared me for the reality of having this conversation. Not really.

“Please, Emily, call me Mark.
(See me.
) And yes, Brian’s my partner. I have his medical power of attorney and living will. I just don’t understand, why is he down here? Did they transport him? He was home and Dekalb Medical Center is closer and….”

She looked at me and I saw something cross her face. Understanding. Compassion. Sadness. “I’d really rather wait for Dr. Amarti to get here. She’s the attending, and she can tell you options on how we can proceed.”

“Just fucking tell me what happened,” I said tiredly, all my energy suddenly gone.

“Well, Mark, Brian was evidently driving—”

“What the fuck? He can’t drive! His license was taken away after the neurologist made the diagnosis,” I practically shouted.

She laid that cool hand back on my arm and I immediately calmed down.

“Please, Mark. I don’t know all the details. But from what we’ve gotten from the paramedics and witnesses, he was driving on Edgewood and had a seizure and lost control of the car. His foot hit the accelerator and he went through two lights and slammed into the side of a building. The airbag deployed, but there was a lot of smoke and a small fire started.”