If I Told You I Loved You, How Far Would You Run?

My head shoots up in alarm as the sound of a woman screaming and crying continued, but Ryan doesn’t look fazed in the least.

“Ryan?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Patrick’s mother …” he says quietly. “She’s … not exactly … right in the head … and doesn’t like taking her meds.”

And that’s when I realize what an amazing guy Patrick is. He already had a handicapped mother but still agreed to let Ryan move in with him, looking after him, caring for him, while also looking after his mother.

“He’s gonna make a great parent one day,” I say with a smile.

Ryan gives me a look. “Please tell me you’re nothing thinking about Patrick in that way,” he says slowly.

“Oh come on, Ryan, I’m gay, not a man-whore,” I say, rolling my eyes, and we laugh until the next scream hits.

The door flies open and Patrick’s mother stand quailing the doorway. “You won’t let them hurt me, will you?” she asks, stepping towards us. “Don’t let them hurt me!”

Ryan and I exchange wild glances and a man, Patrick’s father, comes up to grab his wife by the wrist. “No, Angela,” he croons softly but firmly. “No one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe here.”

“Safe?” she asks in wonderment, staring at her husband with large, childlike eyes.

“Yes, Angel,” he says. “Safe.”

He takes her hand and she follows his willingly from the room and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much love and caring in the one moment.

Patrick slips in as his parents leave and he immediately crosses to stand by the window, unable to look at either Ryan or I.

“I didn’t want you to be here for that,” he says bitterly, staring out the window.

“But … Ryan lives here now,” I mumble numbly. “How was he not supposed to know about that?”

“I told Ryan all about it after he told me about his father,” Patrick says, still not turning around. “It was you I was worried about.”

I get to my feet, walk over to his side, and give him an awkward sort of hug. “My mother disowned me when I told her I was gay,” I say. “Screamed at me and kicked me out of the house. It’s okay, Patrick. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Thank you, Brendon,” he says, giving me a teary smile. “I’ll … I’ll go now and leave you two alone.”

I give Ryan a questioning look as Patrick heads towards to the door and he nods. “No,” I tell Patrick. “You don’t have to go.”

We end up playing Blackjack until I notice what time it is.

“Oh shit!” I exclaim, shooting to my feet. “I better go. See you later, Ryan,” I say, kissing him the forehead, and Patrick walks me to the front door.

“Hey, thanks for everything, Brendon,” he says shyly.

I smile. “No problem,” I say. “And, um, thank you too.”

He gives me a confused look. “For what?”

“For looking after Ryan.”

* * *

Ryan’s back at the school on Monday and he keeps looking at me like he wants to tell me something but we never have the chance to talk because Keltie won’t take her arms off him.

Finally, at the end of the day, we have a moment together alone when Keltie skips off to use the restroom.

“So,” I begin awkwardly. “I’m glad you’re better.”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile. “I think your cookies were the real remedy.”

I smile back, wondering if I need to ask what’s on his mind, when Ryan cuts straight to the chase—

“I just want to let you know that I’ve made up my mind.”

I blink at him in surprise. “About?” I ask.

“You and Ketie,” he says, just as Keltie hersef appears, draping her arms over Ryan’s shoulders and pressing her lips to his.

Yes, he’s made his up his mind. I can see that easily enough.