The Things I didn't Do

A knock at the door. “Good morning!” Joseph says, in that way that he does, warm as the sunshine on a cool spring morning.

“You’re late,” I smirk the largest smirk that I can. He gives me that pouty smile back and puts his fists on his hips.  

“Now Gerald, you know I’m the only one here who can get your tea exactly as you like it,” Joseph replies. He brings my tea in my mother’s fine china cup, with a little slice of lemon on the saucer. “Finding fresh mint leaves this time of year can be a real challenge, so I think you could be a little nicer to me!” he puts his hand over mine for a second, and my heart flutters. I’m fifteen again, sitting on the bench in the ball field staring at number 45 as he walks up to the plate, my fingers clammy and my cheeks flushed.

“So what are your plans today Gerald?” He asks me as he checks my IV and does his routine examination. I’m looking up at him. He sneaks a look down and smiles. 

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing. You are just a great nurse, that’s all.” 

“Is that why you refuse to have any of the other nurses come in?” 

I bite my lip. “What if it was?” 

“Well, I just wish you were nicer. I can’t be your own private nurse you know? And Jenny really is wonderful, if you give her a chance,” he’s kneeling in front of me now, helping to put my socks on my feet. 

“Joseph?” 

“Yes Gerald?” 

“When will I meet your wife? I bet she’s the luckiest woman in the world.” He blushes and looks down, and now I’m sure I’m blushing too. 

“I don’t have a wife, Gerald.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“I am a single man.” 

“Not even a girlfriend?” He laughs as he moves behind me and grasps the handles of my wheelchair. 

“Ready for our walk?” He says, bending down and whispering close to my ear. A shiver runs across my skin. I simply shake my head yes and smile. 

The air is crisp and the autumn sun is perfect, shining its light on the swaths of orange red and yellow. Joseph pushes me along the paved path of the park and I squeeze the pants on at my knees, dreaming of walking with him, my arm around his. 

“I don’t miss my wife, you know.” I say, unprompted. I can’t see it but I know Joseph is making that funny face. I love surprising him. Inside, my heart starts to thump.  

“Why do you say that Gerald?” 

“Well, that’s why they say till death do us part. She’s gone, and she’s been gone for a while, so in a way I’m free. And to be honest, I’m kind of relieved.” 

Joseph doesn’t say anything. The sound of the wheels of my wheelchair turning over soft gravel fills the air.  

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable Joseph. I didn’t mean to-” 

“No, it’s quite alright Gerald. I’m just happy if you’re happy. Are you happy?” I take a deep breath. My fingers grasp at my pant legs, unsure and anxious.

“No Joseph. I’m not.” Joseph stops the wheelchair.

“Why not Gerald?” he asks. I can feel my face flush, my eyes fill with water. A tear runs down my cheek. Joseph moves in front of me, crouches down and puts his hands on my knees. I put my hand on his. 

“My whole life…I’ve been lying to myself.” The words come out in between tiny sobs, like water squirting out from cracks in a dam, ready to collapse moments from collapse. I never imagined it would be this hard. 

“You can tell me.” he says softly. I look into his eyes. 

“I’m…I’m gay.” Time stops. All around me now there is a crowd. My father's glares at me with abhorrence. My mother cries, her hands clasped in prayer. Mrs. Chambers, the boarding school nun, is ready with her stick. Number 45 turns away. 

A hand touches my face. It’s warm and soft. It’s Joseph’s hand. His thumb wipes away a tear. 

“Joseph, you are so beautiful, and you are so brave. I am so proud of you” A tear falls down his cheek, too. 

My heart beats so hard in my chest, for a moment I wonder if it can take it. But then, energy long since dormant and forgotten flows through me. I place both hands on the handles of my wheelchair and push up, my arms shaking. Joseph takes a step back, his face beaming. And for the first time in 5 years, I stand on my own two feet. 

“Gerald! You’re standing!” he exclaims. I stretch my arms out and he comes in and I hold him. A new crowd has formed around us, people I’ve never known. But they know me. 

I look Joseph in the eyes. 

“Joseph, I love you” the world spins. 

“I love you too, Gera-” 

A knock at the door.

I blink and cough and swallow painfully. The door opens. Jenny walks in holding my medication on a small tray. 

“Hello Mr. Cummings.” she says, not looking at me. 

“Good morning,” I say. 

“Morning? It’s four o’clock!” she replies. Four o’clock? 

“Where’s Joseph?” I ask. 

“Lift your arm please.” I do as I’m told. She wraps the band around my arm and presses a button, causing the strap around my arm to inflate. 

“Any pain or discomfort today? How’s your cough?” The armband deflates. Jenny takes it off and brings me my pills. I take the small cups with shaking hands, put the two pills in my mouth and bring the water up to my lips and swallow. It hurts.  

Jenny turns and walks for the door. 

“Would you like the TV on? Is there a book I can get you?.” 

“Where’s Joseph,” I ask again, trying to push my rusty voice out. 

“I tell you this almost every day Gerald, Joseph moved to Colorado with his wife six months ago. I know he was your favorite, but if you give me a chance I’m sure we can be good friends.” She turns on the tv and puts the remote on the table next to me along with a few magazines. 

“I’ll come get you in an hour for dinner alright?” She closes the door behind her. 

I look out the window. The trees are bare and the pines are covered in white powder. Glenda, my wife of 48 years, comes in and spends time with me. She holds my hand, tells me she loves me. I smile and say I love her back. For a moment, I almost believe it. 

She leaves, as she always does, and I curse myself. 

Everything is quiet. 

A smell. It comes up through my nose and my chest swells. Sitting on top of the magazines is a tea in my mother’s china cup, with a sprig of mint leaves and a lemon wedge resting on the saucer.