Clueless
February 2024
"Hello," Brian said as he picked up his phone. He had avoided this call for a long time, but it was time to face the music.
"Brian?"
"Who else answers this phone?" Brian asked sarcastically.
"It ... it just didn't sound like you," Michael said uncertainly. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for ages but you never picked up. Didn't you get my messages?"
"I saw them."
"But ... you didn't answer."
"That's right," Brian acknowledged, squeezing the bridge of his nose.
"But, why?"
"Haven't you figured it out yet?"
"No, what should I figure out?"
Brian sighed loudly. He didn't care if Michael heard him. He wanted the man to know how exasperated he was with him. "I'm really not in the mood for this," Brian said.
"Mood for what? I don't get it," Michael said, totally at a loss as to what was going on. There had been little communication between the two men for months, mostly just other people saying they had seen one or the other.
Brian wondered how his old friend could be so oblivious to the fact that they hadn't really spoken in months. "Michael, when someone calls my daughter a little brat, I'm not inclined to take their phone calls."
"Little brat?"
"You heard me."
"Are you saying I called Bree a little brat?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Don't pretend you don't remember."
"But ... I don't remember," Michael protested.
"Oh for fuck sake!"
"Brian, I really don't know what you're talking about."
"How can you be so ... dense?" Brian demanded, fully frustrated with Michael. He wanted to say 'stupid', but restrained himself. "It was right in your shop, when Bree was trying to get you to accept JR and Jacqueline. You called her a brat and told her you were the adult. I beg to differ with you on that. My daughter is more of an adult than you'll ever be." Brian cut the connection, having heard enough to make his stomach churn.
Brian set his phone down on his desk in the office at Edna's Treasures. It rang almost immediately, causing Brian to heave another long sigh.
At that moment Justin walked in. "Aren't you going to answer it?" he asked looking at the phone.
Brian put it on vibrate and dropped it into a drawer of the desk.
"Why did you do that?" Justin asked puzzled.
"It's Michael."
"Ohhhhh," Justin replied, understanding the situation. He had heard all about Michael's unkind words to Bree. He also knew about the rift between the two men with Michael refusing to speak to Brian after Brian invited JR and Jacqueline to dinner at the loft in Pittsburgh. "He wants to make up?" Justin asked.
"Who the fuck knows or cares what he wants?"
"You care. I know you do," Justin said gently.
"He fucking doesn't even remember calling Bree a brat!" Brian said in his most scathing voice.
"Doesn't remember?"
"You heard me."
"Hey, don't take this out on me," Justin advised.
"I didn't mean to, but he really gets to me," Brian admitted.
"You two have a long history."
"But that doesn't excuse his fucking behavior."
"I know, but Michael is Michael," Justin said slowly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He never changes, and we all know that. He probably really doesn't remember. His mouth opens before his brain engages."
"So what am I supposed to do?" Brian asked. He hated being on the outs with his longtime best friend, but what Michael had said was inexcusable.
"Is it worth trying to correct him?" Justin asked already knowing the answer to that question.
"He's too clueless to know that he's being corrected."
"So, make peace," Justin said resignedly. Neither Brian nor Michael would be happy until this was resolved.
"Me?"
"Is Michael likely to do it?"
"Not fucking likely! He doesn't think he's done anything wrong."
"Then it's up to you. If you want peace on the lane this summer then forgive him."
"But he doesn't think he needs forgiving," Brian protested.
"I bet if you forgive him, he will apologize."
"Isn't that ass backwards?"
"Yep, but it's Michael Novotny we're dealing with here."
"Fuck!" Brian reacted.
Justin chuckled. "I wouldn't start the call to Michael that way."
"Come here," Brian ordered gently.
"What?" Justin asked as he approached Brian and found himself engulfed in Brian's arms, and his mouth covered by Brian's warm lips.
"I knew there was a reason for keeping you around," Brian whispered.
"About time you realized that," Justin replied with a sunny smile. "Now make that call."
"Yes sir!" Brian saluted and opened the desk drawer to pick up his vibrating phone. "He's still calling."
Justin shrugged. "Talk to him. Otherwise, there's no peace for either of you."
Brian shook his head but said "What" into the phone. "I hear you, Michael. You don't remember. ... I forgive you for calling Bree a brat," he stated, swallowing hard after getting the words out. "That's right, I forgive you. ... Your apology is accepted even if you don't remember calling Bree a brat. ... Never let it happen again. ... I hear your promise." Brian rolled his eyes at Justin.
Justin smiled and left the office. Things were almost back to normal, whatever the fuck normal was in their crazy little world.
-end-
Rose Red
February 2024
“Stay!” Justin demanded as he pointed a finger at Brian with a stern, no nonsense look on his face. Brian stayed, slouching back onto his pillow.
“Bossy fucking bottom,” Brian grumbled then sneezed so loudly that he rattled the cottage windows. Justin gave him a look that all but told Brian ‘I told you so,’ and then quickly retreated into their bathroom. When Justin returned he presented Brian with a couple of aspirin and a decongestant.
“Take these now. I’m going to heat up some soup and bring you some juice.” Brian reluctantly complied. Justin watched then turned to leave the room. “And no, I will not bring your laptop or your cell, and just so you know, I’ve removed the extension from this room,” Justin announced before he left.
“Goddamnit,” Brian growled out or attempted to growl, his throat was too sore.
*****
“Here,” Justin said gently as he set down a tray on the small table in their room.
“How long was I out?” Brian croaked as he tried to sit up. Justin helped, propping several pillows behind Brian’s back.
“About an hour,” Justin replied. He gave Brian time to recover from moving then brought the tray over. “It’s just broth with a few noodles and vegetables. I added some small pieces of chicken but not too much. The doctor said your stomach might not be able to handle it.”
“When did you speak to the doctor?”
“The minute I knew you caught the flu,” Justin replied sagely. “You should have taken the flu shot. You knew it was going around the office.”
Brian made a yeah, yeah gesture with his hand then carefully took another small spoonful of soup. Brian had a nurse come into each Kinnetik office to offer flu vaccinations to any employee that wanted it.
Justin kept quiet, which was no easy feat, as he watched Brian valiantly attempt to finish the bowl. He got about halfway through it when exhaustion came over him. Justin took pity on Brian giving his spouse a smile then taking away the tray. He then removed the extra pillows allowing Brian to lie down again.
“Sleep,” Justin said. Brian didn’t have the chance to argue, he was asleep before Justin left the room.
*****
“How is he?” John asked as he entered Justin’s kitchen.
“Sick and stubborn as always,” Justin replied with a sigh.
“You expected anything different?”
“No, but...”
“You’re scared, I get it. It’s a particularly nasty strain going around. When Mom and Steve both got it I was scared too. Brian’s tough,” John assured Justin.
“Yeah, he is,” Justin murmured, trying to convince himself.
“Just be careful you don’t get it too,” John warned.
“I got my shot and I’m taking all precautions,” Justin stated holding up several pamphlets he received from the doctor. John chuckled, shaking his head. Brian wasn’t exaggerating about Justin and his penchant towards PSAs.
“If you need help with his majesty you know where to find us,” John stated as he patted Justin on the shoulder and left.
“Thanks,” Justin said as he stood in his quiet kitchen trying to decide what to do next.
*****
In a few days, Brian was over the worst of it. That same Kinney determination that helped Brian beat cancer had kicked in. He was still weak and Justin remained just as stubborn by not allowing Brian to do anything work related. But Justin did allow Brian to sit in the living room for a while to have his breakfast while Justin aired out their bedroom and changed the bedding.
Justin was handing Brian a mug of well sweetened tea when the gate alarmed buzzed. Justin answered it then waited by the door.
“What’s this?” Justin asked his spouse who looked like he was beginning to fade. Justin wanted to get Brian back to bed but Brian insisted that Justin was to open the box first. It was a long and heavy box.
“Card first,” Brian managed to say. Justin nodded as he gently teased the card out from under the rich red ribbon that held the box together.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Happy Valentine’s Day,
To the only man who could nurse me back from the flu.
Love, B
Justin cried tears of joy as he laughed at the corny poetry. Throwing caution to the wind he wrapped his arms around his fragile spouse to give Brian a hug.
“Open it,” Brian managed to say before a coughing fit overtook him.
“After I get you back to bed. I insist,” Justin said warding off the protest he knew was coming. Brian didn’t have the strength to argue. Justin got him situated back in their room, brought Brian his tea and next dose of medicine then brought the huge box into their room so Brian could watch.
Justin carefully unwrapped the box which contained the usual Valentine’s Day fare, roses, candy and perfume. But in this case, done Brian Kinney style. Two dozen long stem red roses, old roses not hybrids so they had a lovely scent. The chocolate was hand dipped Godiva and the perfume or cologne was Justin’s favorite. Justin was about to express his thanks when he noticed Brian had fallen back to sleep.
Quietly and carefully Justin fussed over his sleeping spouse. He removed the empty tea cup and tucked Brian in. He then arranged the roses on a vase on the table so Brian could see them when he woke up. Justin daubed a little of the cologne behind his ear then placed the bottle on his dresser.
Taking one last look at his peacefully sleeping beauty, Justin grabbed his box of finely crafted chocolate and made a beeline for the kitchen. He intended to enjoy every morsel.
He deserved it.
-end-