Lex
Gideon had been worried about me and he wanted to be my friend.
I didn't even know how to process one of those things, let alone both.
Dwelling on either issue probably wasn't a good idea because the last thing I needed was to start having even stronger feelings for the man sitting next to me. Having realized I was gay at a pretty early age, I’d done what most gay men had at some point in their lives and found myself attracted on more than one occasion to straight men. Fortunately, I'd never actually gotten involved with one because there was no doubt how that kind of relationship would end.
With me nursing a broken heart.
Again.
As Gideon drove us into town, I couldn't help but wonder more about whatever event it was that had brought him back to a town that he clearly just wanted to disappear in. My gut was telling me it had something to do with his daughter's death, but I wasn't about to ask him about it. Even if we were friends, I doubted we were the kind of friends who told each other the heavy stuff. I figured, if anything, Gideon was mixing up the idea of friendship with the idea of obligation. He felt responsible for me because he’d found me that first day in such a vulnerable state. And even if he didn't want to admit it, there had to be at least a certain amount of pity in the whole thing. Hell, I'd pity someone like me. And the whole restocking the log pile and getting the generator going thing was just him doing his job.
Refusing to let the reality of my relationship with Gideon get me down, I focused on the little accomplishments I'd made in the past week. After Gideon had dropped me off, I’d explored the cabin in more detail and much more slowly. I'd found that things had changed from the first day when I'd arrived at the cabin. Gideon had mentioned that he'd moved items around, but that had been an understatement.
All the small knickknacks and furnishings that had probably been a nice touch decoration-wise but had been a nightmare for me to navigate around, had been removed. When I'd examined the countertop in the kitchen, I’d found only the bare necessities like the coffee maker and the microwave. The drawers had been cleaned out and organized in a way that I was able to easily feel out things like forks and knives. The other rooms had been transformed as well.
I’d spent the next several days just trying to acclimate to my surroundings. Getting from one room to another had been a painful process of feeling my way around and trying to remember certain things about each room that would help me figure out where I was at any given time. Like the living room having a large grandfather clock near the doorway. I hadn't yet made my way upstairs to try and figure out the second floor to the same degree, so I'd ended up sleeping on the couch each night. However, I had figured out how to get the fireplace working. Again, it had been a slow process, but I’d taken my time and instead of focusing on what I couldn't see, I’d focused on sounds and smells instead. I could still remember the little shout of victory I'd given when I’d started my first fire. I'd actually done a victory dance, but that was a secret I’d take to the grave with me.
After a few days, I'd started counting the steps between things. I knew it was twenty-six steps from the living room couch to the microwave. From there it was thirty-one steps to the bathroom. Thankfully, I had a pretty good memory, so it was easy to tuck away all the different counts and remember them for when I wanted to get somewhere. I wasn't sure how I'd apply that to my apartment back in Los Angeles, considering how much bigger it was, but at least I knew it was possible.
Cooking was the one thing I hadn't really given any thought to trying—not cooking on the stove, anyway. I'd made most of the food I'd eaten in the microwave and while it hadn't tasted particularly good, I'd at least done it by myself. The snag had been when I'd run out of food and hadn't arranged more quickly to have my driver, Andre, bring me more. I knew I probably should've paid the exorbitant fee to have Andre stay in Fisher Cove so he'd be at my beck and call, but that had been a certain level of dependence that I hadn't wanted to rely on.
I hadn't even considered calling Gideon after he’d dropped me off. I'd already imposed on the man so much and it hadn't been something I'd wanted to repeat. But when he’d shown up the very next day, I'd been elated. I’d actually stood in the kitchen near the front door so I could let the man in, but when there had been no knock and I'd heard the sound of his engine disappearing in the distance, I'd been bereft. I'd written it off to him being in a rush, but then when it had happened again that night and the next day and the day after, I’d accepted that he wasn't interested in seeing me. All he wanted was to do his job as caretaker of the cabin.
But this morning when my blood sugar had started to go above normal for me, I’d realized I didn't have a lot of options and I'd made that call to Gideon.
And here I was sitting next to a virtual stranger and wondering how I'd gone from welcoming the silence of Birch Cabin to craving the company of a man I knew so little about.
My thoughts occupied most of the drive into town. It wasn't until Gideon pulled the truck to a stop and then came around it to help me out that my confidence started to crumble. I'd been riding the high of realizing how simple it was to count the steps between locations in my cabin, and I’d just thought that somehow I could apply that same thing to an outing and it would be like I was almost normal. But the second I stepped foot on the hard pavement, I felt completely disoriented.
And utterly helpless.
Were there, even now, people watching me? Were they wondering what had happened to me even as they felt sorry for me?
I tried to listen for hushed whispers but heard nothing beyond the occasional car passing. There were other sounds too, but I just couldn’t identify any of them.
"Merv's is across the street," Gideon said as he took my arm and pulled me forward, presumably so he could shut the truck’s door. Then his hand disappeared from my arm and complete and utter panic set in. Had he left? Had he just assumed I'd be okay on my own and was planning to meet me back at the truck? What if he’d tired of me and was just going to drive off and leave me there? I had my phone with me, but what good would it do? Who would I call? Did such a small town even have a police force?
I wanted to reach out to see if Gideon's truck was still there. Logically, I knew it had to be because I hadn't heard the engine fire up, but when I put my hand out, the only thing that greeted it was air. I tried calling Gideon's name, but it got stuck in my throat.
My quickly closing-up throat.
I tried drawing in some oxygen, but it felt like nothing was getting through. My heart was racing in my chest and my limbs felt too heavy for my body.
"Hey… hey," I heard Gideon say and I nearly let out a sob of relief when his fingers closed around my upper arms. "I'm here, Lex. I'm here," I heard him say. There was a dark shape in front of me which I assumed was Gideon, but it didn't really matter. I was frozen in place, so even if I wanted to hug him, I couldn't.
"Lex, I need you to slow your breathing," Gideon said. "Just like we did in my house that first day, remember?"
My mind felt like it was going a million miles an hour. I wanted to tell him so and explain that there was no way I could count, let alone do anything else, but I’d gone completely mute. I was sure that in a matter of seconds, I'd be lying passed out on the ground.