"Demean you?" Steve gaped at him.
The doctor held up his hand. "Mark, Steve did
not mean to demean you."
"Thank you!" Steve shook his head. "I worship
the ground you walk on, Richfield. Demean you…" Steve muttered
under his breath and sipped more water.
Mark set the bottle down and crossed his
arms. "He calls me a mess and that's not demeaning."
"I mean…" Steve set his bottle beside Mark's
and turned towards him on the couch. "How can I make you happy? How
can I show you how incredible you are?"
"My father took that away from me four
decades ago." Mark ran his hand through his hair, getting it out of
his eyes.
Steve made eye contact with the doctor. "His
dad is dead. Why does he have so much influence on Mark?"
"Tell me about your father, Steven?" The
doctor looked at Steve through his round spectacles.
"Yes, Steven, why don't you tell Dr Van Eldon
about when your father pointed a gun at you?" Mark said, with a
slight sarcastic lilt.
"Pointed a gun at you?"
Steve waved his hand. "This isn't about me.
I'm fine. I'm not the one starving and passing out, taking
pills…"
"How do you deal with your stress, Steven?"
the doctor asked.
"I don't know. Run? Talk about it with Jack
and Adam…" Steve thought he had answered the question truthfully,
but both Mark and the doctor kept looking at him. "What?"
"You don't talk to Mark about your stress?
The things that bother you?"
Mark shifted his position, facing Steve, as
if he wanted the same answer.
"I do. But he's so overwhelmed most of the
time; I don't want to burden him."
"Burden me? I'm your husband." Mark touched
his chest. "What do you tell Jack and Adam you don't tell me?"
"Nothing." Steve gestured to the doctor in
annoyance. "What are you trying to do? Create more friction between
us? Make up shit that's not there?" He picked the water up again.
"This whole therapy thing is such a crock."
Mark turned away from him. "I don't know why
you asked to come."
"Because I thought you may not be telling
this guy about your starvation."
Mark gestured to Dr Van Eldon. "Have I spoken
to you about my eating habits before shoots?"
"Yes."
"Like I said last time, has he told you he
passes out?" Steve asked, capping the bottle after taking a sip.
"That we had to call 911 when he hit the fucking ground after a
shoot? Huh? That he lay out of it in a shitty area in LA at ten at
night?"
"Steven!" Mark glared at him. "You told him
this previously. Why are you bringing it up again?"
"Does he tell you things like that?" Steve
asked the doctor and got no reaction from the man. "Gee. What a
surprise." Steve shook his head. "This is why I came. To make sure
you are telling this guy everything."
"Do you tell people all your thoughts,
Steven?" the doctor asked.
"Yes. I think so."
"Really?" The doctor adjusted his glasses.
"I've never known of a person so honest they kept no secrets
whatsoever. You must be a very remarkable man."
At the line of inquiry, Steve felt hot and
put on the spot. He loosened another button of his shirt collar and
slid off his tie.
Mark stared at him. "Well? No one is that
transparent, Steven. No one."
"So," the doctor leaned forward as he spoke,
"No secrets from Mark…everything in your life he knows…all your
fears, your dreams…" he made sure he said the last words very
slowly, "Your desires?"
Steve whipped his head around to Mark. "What
did you tell him?"
"Me?" Mark pressed his fingers to his
chest.
"What would you like to tell me, Steven?" The
doctor sat back again, his pen near his chin, as if he were trying
to read Steve.
Now Steve felt backed into a corner.
Alex.
Steve kept nothing else from Mark. Nothing.
He tried to get a read on Mark, seeing if Mark had spoken about the
taboo attraction Steve had for Alex. Of course Mark knew years ago
about the madness that occurred when Alex first arrived at their
door at age eighteen and seduced him, but…
Steve thought about the kiss Alex had planted
on him this past June. But that was months ago. Could Alex have
said something to Mark? No.
"Steven?" Dr Van Eldon asked.
"I have nothing to say." Steve sat back and
folded his tie into a square. "I'm not the one who needs you. I'm
fine."
"So am I." Mark stared out of a window. "I
never asked you to come."
"Considering what Mark has been through as a
child, his responsibility to his son, his holding down two modeling
careers and the job he shares with you at Parsons and Company, I'd
say Mark has done extraordinarily well."
"Thank you." Mark softened his posture.
"Then why does he need you?" Steve asked,
pocketing his folded tie.
"Do you want to stop coming to see me,
Mark?"
Mark appeared slightly panicked.
"I certainly think you have made huge leaps
in your progress since we first began our sessions."
"But…" Mark glanced at Steve and then the
doctor. "Stop coming?"
Steve wondered if this was some brainwashing
technique. Get the patients so dependent on their shrink, they
can't quit.
"What about my prescriptions?" Mark asked,
dragging his hand through his hair as he grew anxious, which was
his 'tell' to Steve.
"Your family doctor can certainly maintain
the valium and sleeping pills, Mark. I can write him a letter."
Steve looked at Mark. "What do you need to
see this guy for now? You're cured. You heard him. You're
extraordinary in his opinion."
"Cured?" Mark blinked. "Does one get 'cured'
from the chaos they have in their heads?"
"Of course," the doctor said, setting the pad
aside. "Why don't we try it? Like Steve said. I'm always here if
you need me. But we don't have to see each other weekly any longer.
Unless you feel we do."
Steve studied Mark. Mark went from angry to
falling apart in two seconds flat. "Are you dependant on this guy?
Like drugs? I mean, come on, Mark. If you don't want to talk to me
about shit, Adam is an amazing listener."
"I…I don't know." Mark kept running his hand
through his hair, shifting his posture on the couch.
"Let's not make this another area of stress."
The doctor took out his pocket planner. "I have you down for next
week. I'll keep the appointment and simply call and cancel
twenty-four hours before, and that's that."
"That's that." Mark ran both hands over his
hair now. "What about my mother?"
The doctor paid attention. "What about
her?"
"She…she's cut Alex and me out of the
will."
Steve assumed that, but never heard a
definitive answer. "Has she? She said so?"
"Well, the estate sold. She told me I should
keep it. When a friend purchased it…I never saw a penny. I was
actually going to put that money in an IRA for Alex."
"Have you spoken to Leslie? Heard it
firsthand?" the doctor put his planner away.
"No. I'm terrified to call. Do I want to
know?"
"Yes." Steve touched Mark's leg. "You do.
Alex does. I do. If Leslie is legally changing her will, she needs
to tell you."
"You see?" Mark held out his hand. "I'm still
confused."
"Mark." The doctor gave him a calm smile.
"You can come next week if you need to, but you should call
Leslie."
"I can't. I truly can't." Mark reached for
Steve's hand.
Steve clasped it. "I can."
Mark looked at him. "Would you? No. I can't
ask you to do that."
Dr Van Eldon said, "Why can't you ask Steven
to do that?"
"He barely knows Mum. It'd be like me calling
his homophobic father. I'd never do it."
"I will." Steve squeezed Mark's hand.
"What will you say?" Mark appeared
panicked.
"We can discuss it before I call her." Steve
kissed Mark's knuckles.
After forty minutes of talking about what
Steve felt was purely filler, the doctor said, "I'm afraid that's
all the time we have for today."
Steve stood and kept hold of Mark's hand. He
said to the doctor, "We'll let you know about next week."
"That's fine." The doctor made his way to the
door to show them out.
Mark followed Steve and thanked the doctor
then walked with Steve down the hall.
Steve didn't want to call the bitch, but he
would. He just had a feeling his temper would flare if she cut Mark
out. But hell, if she already did, then there was nothing to
lose.
"Steven?"
"Hmm?" Steve looked up at Mark.
"What secrets do you have from me?"
Steve cupped the back of Mark's head and
pecked his lips. "None. You know everything there is to know."
"Truly?"
Steve squeezed Mark's hand tighter and walked
him outside of the building, headed to their car. What Steve
'truly' wanted to know, was what Mark had done with Randy Dawson to
clinch Alex's deal. That's what. But he wasn't a complete idiot,
and knew the reaction from Mark would be brutal if he brought it up
in therapy. Steve clenched his jaw and tried to put it behind him.
He just never knew if he could.
~
Adam used his hands-free phone in the car on
the drive home. Jack was on the other end of the line. The traffic
was miserable, as usual. "I'm on my way now, Jack, but the highway
is a mess."
"I'm going to be out for a little while."
"Where?"
"Headed to Glendale."
"Glendale." Adam slowed for the stop and go
traffic.
"You remember the horse Mark fell in love
with?"
"You bought him?"
"No. But I am going back to the stable where
we inquired about how much it is to board."
"Okay. I thought Steve wanted us to give Mark
his present tonight."
"Oh. He did?"
"Yes." Adam rubbed his face as he stared at
miles of stopped cars on the freeway.
"I didn't think we were going to make a big
deal out of it. Mark's birthday was Sunday. You know how Mark gets.
Why doesn't Steve just give it to him?"
"Okay." Adam had no idea why everything was
so difficult. "I'll tell Steve that. So, why are you still looking
at horses in Glendale?"
"Not horses. Just the boarding."
Adam gave up. "Whatever. I can't think right
now. I'm in a line of traffic that goes on for miles and now Keith
and Carl want me to try and get them a role in Alex's new
movie."
"Wow. Can you?"
"I doubt it. But if there is an open call for
auditions? I can send them."
"Sounds good. Oh, and Adam?"
"What?"
"You should work from home."
Adam thought about it. "No. High priced
talent agent? I need the fancy office front…see ya when I see
ya."
"Bye."
Adam used his voice activated phone service,
"Call Steve Miller." He shifted in the driver's seat, yawning.
"Hey, babe." Steve's voice came through
Adam's earpiece.
"Hey, look, I just spoke to Jack and he said,
just give Mark the gift without us."
"Huh. Okay. Is it to avoid the fuss from
Mark?"
"Probably, but Jack is headed to Glendale to
look at the stables again."
"Ahhh, okay. Jack said he was trying to get
something for Mark. I think he's still working on that horse
idea."
"Probably."
"Okay. I'll give the gift to Mark
tonight."
"Let me know how he likes it."
"Adam…you're kidding, right?"
Adam smiled. "I know he will. So, never
mind."
"See ya."
"Bye, babe." Adam disconnected the call and
stared at the red brake lights that seemed to go on for miles ahead
of him. He sighed and continued to work from his car, calling
clients and answering their questions.
~
Mark was in the bathroom putting his hair
into a ponytail for his and Steve's run.
"Here."
Mark turned to see Steve handing him an
envelope. "What is that?"
"Open it." Steve, wearing just his running
shorts and socks, walked by Mark, raised the toilet seat, and
relieved himself.
Mark opened the envelope and found it was a
gift certificate to Dr Love for Botox or fillers. He stared at
Steve in confusion for a moment and then asked, "Why am I not
getting this?"
"Happy Birthday." Steve gave his cock a shake
and flushed the toilet. "Okay? No celebration, nothing. Just
something you'll use." Steve nudged Mark out of the way and washed
his hands, looking at himself in the mirror.
Mark slid the certificate back into the
envelope. "Thank you. That was nicely done, Steven."
"Not my idea. Thank Adam." Steve left the
bathroom and asked, "Ready?"
Mark set the envelope on the nightstand and
put on one of Steve's LAPD ball caps. He tugged his ponytail out of
the back and slipped his sunglasses on. "Yes." Mark followed Steve
to the lower floor and they sat down to put on their running shoes.
Mark waited as Steve made sure he had the house key. It was cool,
November in LA, breezy and comfortable. Not like last summer where
even after five pm the heat nearly killed him.
He and Steve developed a good route, ran at
the same pace, and Mark had to admit, not only did this run keep
him fit and trim, it kept his sanity, somewhat.
"So…" Mark said, neither of them laboring or
breaking a sweat at the moment, "…you really are going to call
Mum?"
"I can. I am not afraid of your mother."
"That makes one of us." Mark laughed
sarcastically. "How will you go about asking? I mean, she'll want
to know why you are and not me."
"I can either tell her you asked me to call
her or I can just say I am the one concerned."
Mark thought about it. "She'll eat you alive,
my mum. She will. She's so used to sniping she'll view you as fresh
meat."
"Your mom and I have never had issues. Have
we?"