Things We Know

Gale/Randy RPS

Rated R-ish

There are things you know in life, like you’ll live to be old and gray and your parents will always love you and eventually you’ll find happiness. And though perhaps none of this is certain, you assume that it is because to question the certainty of these things would be detrimental to your sanity. If you sat around wondering all day about whether you’d live or die or whether you’d find true love you’d waste your life away. Easier to just close your eyes and hold on tight, these things generally work out anyway.

*****

For the first few months we talked a couple times a week. We’d have our standard half-drunk or half-high conversations in the dead of night about where our lives were going or how fucked up the state of the nation is and shit like that. We always liked talking about the shit we couldn’t talk about with other people. Un-polite conversation we called it.

Then Randy got a show on Broadway and he was busy for like, eight months. I’d get voicemails at the crack of dawn when I was still sound asleep in L.A. He’d be on his way to grab coffee before heading to the theatre for rehearsal or whatever else he was doing. He was sleeping with some kid in the chorus and he’d leave me dirty little messages about what the guy was like in bed, great ass, long tongue, loud moaner. Randy loved to think he could still shock me, so I let him.

By the time a year had gone by we’d resorted to cryptic text messages like ‘why’s the sky blue’ and ‘vodka on the rocks will be my demise’ (that was mostly him, I was never good at typing, especially not on my fucking cell phone). I hadn’t seen him once since the wrap party. I was contracted for a couple of Indie films and seeing some girl who lived in my building. It wasn’t a life to shout from the rooftops about, but it made the time pass.

It was a weird thing that happened that changed everything. The truth is if Hal hadn’t come over to tell me about Sharon I bet I’d still be hanging out with Gina and smoking too much pot and reading movie scripts a month too late.

Hal knocked on the door Wednesday morning before 7am. He pounded on it actually until I stumbled out a bed, too confused to put on any clothes before swinging open the door the barking at him. He came in laughing, “Nice Gale, didn’t know I’d be seeing your dick again so soon.”

He made himself coffee and waited for me to shower so I could wake up a little. Gina left in the meantime, she was sort of good about stuff like that.

I finally sat down on the stool next to him at the bar that looked into my kitchen, “This better be good,” I grabbed his cup of coffee and drained it.

“Nice to see you too,” he punched me and made himself another cup. “So listen, Sharon was in an accident.”

“What?” I jumped up, the stool fell to the ground behind me. “You’ve been here a fucking hour and you’re just now telling me!” I was heading for the door and pulling on shoes before Hal had a chance to say anything else.

“Hold on Superman, you gonna fly yourself to New York? She was in a car accident last night in the city. She’s out there filming and she got hit by some drunk on her way home.”

I sank to my knees on the tile floor next to my front door. I can’t explain what washed over me, but it felt like someone was beating me to death. I love Sharon, she’s been a second mother to me and a mentor and an amazing friend. I couldn’t breathe when I thought about her not being around anymore.

Hal knelt beside me, “Listen, don’t lose it on me. She’s unconscious, but they think she’s gonna pull through. I came over here to get you. We’ll fly out there today, okay?”

I simply nodded. I stayed in that place on the floor while Hal packed a bag for me and turned off the lights in my apartment and put my socks and shoes on my feet. I was like a sick child, a rag doll in his hands. But he got me up and out the door and into his car. Hal’s always been a good guy, a really good guy.

We were on a flight across the country four hours later. By the time we got into New York and checked into a hotel and got to the hospital it was after midnight. When we went to the ICU at Mount Sinai where a nurse in a rumpled white uniform who looked like she’d been working for two straight years told us visiting hours were over and moreover only immediate family was allowed in the ICU. Hal quickly told the woman I was Sharon’s son, at which point she gave me a once over and replied, “That’s funny, you look nothin’ like that other kid.”

*****

When I walk down the row of the near dying I am overwhelmed by how peaceful it all feels. If you close your eyes, and ignore the smell, you could be anywhere. I hardly know I am in a room full of people knocking on death’s door.

When the squat, tired woman pulls back a heavy blue curtain my eyes immediately land on Sharon. She’s lying lifeless with tubes in all the appropriate places. It’s just like the sort of thing you see in a movie. And I should know, I’ve done scenes just like this before. But after a few beeps from her heart monitor I realize this is no movie scene.

I breathe deep, purposely run my hands over the sides of my thighs so I know my legs are still under me and I should, conceivably, be able to walk across the room. That’s when I hear him.

“Hey,” his voice is so soft and sleepy and so, so familiar.

I snap my head to the right, his blond hair is longer, it’s sticking up funny. He must have been asleep in the chair.

“Hey,” I walk a few steps toward him and stop. I’m not sure what to do.

He decides. He gets up and closes the gap, wraps his arms around my waist tightly and pulls me to him. He breathes deep against my neck, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Sharon doesn’t really have family, we all sort of learned that along the way. It’s us, and we haven’t been around in a while. The guilt is painted all over our faces. He needed someone else to feel guilty with, and here I am.

“Hal brought me,” I aimlessly ruffle a hand through his hair and touch my lips to his cheek. It seems easy and he lets me so I hold on to him and keep doing it.

“I asked him to,” Randy mumbles into my chest and yawns. Moments pass. We’ve always been good at comfortable silence.

“They won’t let us stay here all night...how did you get in here anyway? I said I was her kid.” Randy peers up at me, I love when he wears his glasses.

“Me too,” I chuckle and add, “Well actually Hal told them that. He’s been great. He’s out there actually. We should go talk to him.”

“I’ll go,” Randy peels himself off of my chest, “You wanna stay here a minute?”

I nod, “Yeah, wait for me?”

“Yeah.”

I walk to Sharon’s bedside and take her hand in mine. I try not to see her the way she looks now, but the way I last saw her. We had dinner in L.A. a couple months ago. We had too much wine and we stayed until the restaurant kicked us out. I made her get a cab home and then drove myself, even though I promised her I wouldn’t. God, what if the last thing I did was lie to her?

A soft hand touches my shoulder, I look up and Randy is peering down at me. “Lose the time?”

I nod. He knows I get to thinking and zone out a lot. I stand up and move the chair I pulled to her bedside back to where it belongs by the window.

“Let’s get some sleep, they’ll let us come back at 7.”

Hal’s waiting for us in front of the hospital. We walk to the nearest cross street to grab cabs downtown. Hal and I checked into the W in Union Square, Hal’s friend is the GM. Randy lives in the Village, but I’ve never seen the place he’s in now, the one he owns. I want to go home with him so badly my gut burns from it. Hal jumps around like a monkey trying to get a cab, it’s raining and it’s after 2am.

Finally one stops and we pile in the back. Randy’s in the middle between me and Hal, I let my head rest on his shoulder as we roar down 5th Avenue. He forces an arm between the seat and my back and strokes me gently, I hear him talking to Hal in a hushed tone, but I don’t strain to hear.

Suddenly Hal gets out of cab and I startle. I must have nearly fallen asleep. Before I know what’s happening the cab is taking off again.

“You’re coming with me,” Randy strokes my neck and meets my eyes. It isn’t a question.

I nod and put my head back down, it was always sort of like this – him taking care of me. Maybe this is why I miss him so much, because I need him so much.

Randy’s place is clean and small, it smells fresh, like laundry and oranges. It smells like him. The bedroom is lofted and he leads me up a small staircase and pushes me down in his white down comforter.

We are fully clothed, shoes and everything. He turns off the light and lays close beside me. He throws a heavy arm over my chest, “Sleep now.”

And I do.

*****

In the morning sun shines through windows that line the entire far wall of Randy’s apartment. The bed is empty and my arm feels funny cause it fell over the side and hung there all night. I stand up and stretch for a minute, taking in the sparse décor, the couple of photos on the wall (artsy shit, not friends or family) and the single floor lamp next to the bed that has white sheets, white pillows and a white comforter. Randy was always a bit of a minimalist. It’s one of the things I like about him, he’s not cluttered up.

When I get downstairs he’s sitting Indian style on the floor with a steaming cup of coffee. His hair is wet and he doesn’t have on anything but a pair of sweats. He looks comfortable. I could be comfortable here too.

He turns around and watches me cross to his kitchen. “Sugar’s above the coffee maker in the cabinet.” He smiles at me as I fumble with the stainless steel rocket ship that apparently brews coffee. I finally get a cup poured and I join him on the floor after I kick my shoes off.

“Time’s it?” I burn my tongue on the first sip, I always do. I never was patient.

“Mmmm, close to 7.” He nods at the window as if he’s telling the time by the sun’s position in the sky. Of course, Randy is just the type to be able to actually do that.

“Do you think she’ll be alright?” I blurt out the question, I can tell it surprises him.

“I do,” he nods. He watches his coffee for a minute, but then he looks up at me and when his eyes meet mine I can tell he means it.

“Good,” I nod too.

*****

Hal calls Randy as we’re heading downstairs to catch a cab. They have a brief conversation that seems too familiar to me.

“Do you talk to Hal a lot?” I ask when we’re in the back of a cab headed uptown.

“Uh, I don’t know if it’s a lot, but occasionally.”

“You guys weren’t really friends back then…it’s just. I don’t know.”

“We were friends. Just like us.”

I shake my head, “No you weren’t friends with him like you were with me.”

”Well no, I wasn’t. But you know, we were all friendly. Hal keeps up with me, he calls and checks in. Sorta like a big brother, it’s nice. And when I needed you to come I knew who to call. He’s good like that.”

“You needed me?” Our eyes meet.

His hand slides over the worn leather seat and until his fingers just barely touch mine. “Course I did. No one else loves her like I do, except you.”

I nod, “Yeah, I really do.”

“Yeah, so I needed you. Here. With me. For her.”

“Good. Okay. So I’m here. We’ll get through this.”

Then he leans his head on my shoulder and places his hand on my thigh. We ride in comfortable silence all the way to the hospital.

Hal gets out of a cab at the front entrance just before we do.

“Great timing!” Hal’s always been too chipper in the morning. He hugs up both and we head in.

At the front desk I hang back and let them do the talking, I never was good at stuff like that. We’re asked to wait in the holding cell…waiting room, whatever it is feels like a trap. A few minutes pass and a doctor walks in and asks for Sharon Gless’ family. I can tell he’s surprised when the three of us stand up.

He gives a speech about medically what’s happened and then in English what that means. He explains the details of the tests she’s undergoing at the moment and then finally…finally, after minutes of rambling he tells us that just before dawn she showed signs of cognizance and he’s sure she is going to make a full recovery. An audible sigh is heard through the whole room. Randy hugs the doctor because he’s that sort of guy. Hal and I smile and hug each other.

Hal talks to the doctor some more about when we should be around and when we’ll be able to see her and all of that. Randy takes my hand and we stand there, in the middle of the waiting room, just staring at each other.

Finally Hal breaks our trance, “So I guess we have some time? What should we do?”

Randy looks from Hal to me and back to Hal, “I think I’m going to go back to my place and get some more sleep,” his eyes shift to me, “What do you want to do?”

I nod, “Sleep’s good.” But I’m not tired at all.

Hal watches us both closely, “Well I haven’t seen my friend Sarah in forever and she’ll kill me if I’m in town and don’t call her, so uh I’ll catch up with you guys later. We should come back around lunch to see Sharon.” And then he’s gone. Hal’s always been good like that.

Randy and I stand alone a minute longer and then finally he leads me out of the hospital and back onto the street. In the cab we ride in silence once more, I wonder if Sharon will be the same after this. I wonder how something like that changes you.

Back at Randy’s we have more coffee. Doesn’t seem like either of us is interested in more sleep. I stand in front of his windows and admire the view, “Great place.”

“Thanks,” he comes to stand beside me, “I love it.”

“Wish I’d seen it sooner.” My eyes drop to the floor. I hope it didn’t sound too pathetic.

“About that,” Randy walks away and takes a seat on his small couch, “I feel like I should have done all of this better…you and me.”

I join him on the couch, “Me too I guess.”

“I think I fucked it up,” he nods and sips his coffee.

“Yeah,” I give him a look and we both laugh a little.

“It’s just…I don’t know Gale. With you and me it’s tough. It’s pretty fucked up.”

I let him think for a while, let the silence between us stretch. With anyone else it would be awkward. But with us it’s always been…well comfortable.

I finally talk, “You were my best friend and I don’t know...What we had, its like, I’d never had that. And I never imagined we’d lose it so fast. I just, I tried to hold on but you weren’t trying to hold on back and I wasn’t strong enough for us both.”

He sighs and drops his head, “I know. God, I know. I feel…I don’t know. But I feel like I fucked up. I feel shitty about it all. It’s like if I could just tell you…fuck.” He stands suddenly, his coffee drops to the ground. The pale brown liquid spills onto his hard wood floors, the colors are so similar it’s had to see where the coffee’s running.

“Shit,” he stomps a foot and heads for the kitchen. He grabs a roll of paper towels and comes back to clean it up.

When he’s down on his hands and knees I sink to the floor next to him, “Tell me what?” I touch the hair on the back of his neck.

He looks up at me slowly, “Tell you that I couldn’t be friends anymore.”

My face screws up in confusion, “What?”

“I couldn’t be friends with you anymore because I wanted to be more than friends. I was so fucking in love with you. I couldn’t breathe through it. It was making me sick I was so gone. I couldn’t wait to get away from you…to just…be normal again. I thought a little time would make it better. Would make it so that I could be friends with you again, but every time I hear your voice I fall all over. It fucking sucks.”

“It sucks?” I cock my head at him. I feel utterly bowled over and yet totally unsurprised all at once.

He stands up and tosses his arms in the air, “Yes it sucks. It fucking sucks loving your best friend in the least friendly way possible. I couldn’t be in a room with you without getting a hard-on those last six months. Christ, don’t tell you me you didn’t know.”

Did I know? Of course I knew. There are things we inherently know, like when someone is in love with us, that we deny in order to function and thrive if we’re not sure we want to accept or deal with the truth. This was one of those things.

I slide my feet out from under me and lie down on the floor, it seems safer here. Like I can’t fall any further. I stare at his high ceilings and marvel at the old chandelier that I hadn’t noticed. It’s wrought iron and looks centuries old. It’s beautiful.

There are things we inherently know, like when we are in love with someone, that we deny in order to preserve the ideas that we have about who we are. For me, loving Randy blows apart every concept I have about myself so I never admitted the truth. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t know what that truth is.

A long time goes by before he comes to stand above me. I put my hand on his ankle.

“Maybe you should go,” He says quietly.

“Maybe I should stay,” I hold on tightly to his leg.

“Gale,” he shakes his head as I start to pull him to the floor. I struggle but he doesn’t give me much of a fight.

When he’s lying next to me I turn on my side and watch him for a while. His eyes get wet with tears he doesn’t shed and then finally he sighs and turns to me, “I’m sorry I can’t be better at this, separate emotions, burry my shit down deep. I tried, for a long time, but I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What?” Now he looks confused.

I lean over him and watch his eyes drift close as my lips brush his. I give him a kiss that is anything but friendly.

“Gale,” he whispers my name as I pull away. “Gale,” he says it again and starts to pull at my shirt. “Gale…” the third time it’s barely a sound.

“I’m here,” I lean over him again and start to kiss his face allover. He starts to shake as my mouth moves over his neck and down into the hollow below his collarbone.

I’ve done this all before and it still seems new to me. His skin is soft and sweet and goose bumps bloom over every inch of it as I take off his clothes. When he’s naked I explore him from top to bottom. I lay my tongue over every inch of his body. He tries to watch but his eyes keep drifting closed. He stretches and moans a little when I hit a place he likes. When I run my lips high inside of his thighs he giggles and when I let my tongue run behind his balls he gasps.

When I push inside of him his breath catches and there is only silence.

*****

She still has tubes coming out of every available orifice but her eyes are open. We stand beside her bed and I lace my fingers through hers and Randy leans over to kiss her cheek.

”My boys,” she whispers and we beam.

We spend the afternoon reading her ridiculous women’s magazines and telling her stories about what we’ve been up to lately. Hal talks about his karate shit and Randy tells us about the seedy underbelly of Broadway. Sharon half smiles when something is particularly funny and when they announce that visiting hours are over she tells us how much she loves us. It’s the best day I can remember having in a very long time.

Just as we’re about to disappear beyond the curtain that encases her I hear her whisper my name. We all turn around but the guys nod and keep walking. I go back and lean down close to her bed.

I smile and stroke her head, “What’s up?”

She smiles, “Took you long enough, baby.” And then she winks at me.

I’m about to ask what the hell she means when the pieces fall together in my mind.

I simply nod, “But I know now.”

“Good boy,” she pats my hand to send me on my way. I kiss her once more and join Randy and Hal in the waiting room.

When we get out to the street Hal turns to me, “I checked you outta your room. Your bag is in my room,” his gaze shifts from me to Randy, “but you could come by and get it tomorrow.”

We all look back and forth between each other, “That’d be great. We’ll come by and get it tomorrow.”

I sling my hand over Randy’s shoulder and kiss his hairline. Hal smiles at us both.

There are things we know, like when your best friend is actually the love of your life and unless you want to lose the best thing you’ve ever found you’d better close your eyes and hold on tight. Besides, these things generally work out anyway.

End

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