Page 21 of Dark Rules

Mom pulled away and looked out at the night sky behind us. “It’s gone dark already. I hadn’t realized. Do you want something to eat?”

“Have you eaten?” I watched her and saw she hadn’t by her expression.

“I haven’t had time to, and I’ve been so worried. I didn’t want to leave him.”

“I’ll go find you something somewhere. Let me have your car keys, in case everything here is closed.”

It was late, even if Kansas was a couple of hours behind South Carolina. The flight was short, but still, it was late, and I knew the only thing I’d find was all-night fast food joints. She liked most things, though, so I knew I’d find her something. I’d ended up getting two meals, one for each of us, and drove back to the hospital.

Mom came out to the waiting room and looked at me. “I know you’re worried about your father, but something is different about you. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, laughing as I put a waffle-cut fry in my mouth. I couldn’t speak if my mouth was full, right?

“I don’t know, Dylan. You seem calm, much calmer than I thought you’d be.”

“Good, ahem, good food will do that to you.” I held up the burger in my hand, and she gave me that mom look that all moms had. I looked back at my burger and avoided her eyes.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me now, son. When and if you’re ready. As long as you’re happy, that’s all I care about.” She patted my knee and finished her burger off. “I’ll go back and check on him. I spoke with the nurse while you were gone. There’s one doctor left on the floor. When he goes, she says she’ll let you in. You’ll have to wear a face mask and a gown, to keep germs off of him, but you can see him at least.”

“Thanks, Mom. That would be great.” I hugged her, and she went down the hall to the pink monstrosity that was the ICU in the hospital here. I’d seen it before, when Dad had his stroke. Why they chose pink, I’d never know, but it was pink all the same.

I thought about Stephanie and sent her a text. It was even later there, so I didn’t bother to call. I knew she kept her phone on at night, but she turned the volume down. One buzz wouldn’t wake her, but two or three might. I sent her one long message on her messenger and left it at that. I’d call her tomorrow, to check on her.

Normally, I wouldn’t bother to even text a woman, but Stephanie deserved to know what was going on. She’d booked my flight here and had taken the time to make sure I was ready before I left. I remembered now that she’d fed me a sandwich before I left the house. I’d eaten the burger because I’d forgotten all about that and thought I’d should probably eat.

I laughed at myself. She was taking care of me without even realizing it, I thought. As if that had been her role all of her life, and I wondered about her family. Was that her role with them? She took care of them all day, ushered them around, and kept them all in order, like a mother hen?

Or maybe it was a former job she’d had. Either way, I knew she was used to taking control of things quietly, in the background, without acknowledgement, and it had revealed a lot about her. She’d wanted to be submissive, and I’d found it odd until I thought about it. In her daily life, she must feel as if she’s always quietly in control, while also in demand. She has to do things without making a scene, without a lot of questions. The way she’d stepped in was a sign that she had a lot more control than she thought.

By being my sub, she had mirrored that situation, though. I sat back in a chair, yelped when it tilted back, and then settled when I realized it was supposed to do that. Maybe she was taking control by giving up her control. Wasn’t that the circular game that was played in these situations? It made my head spin to think about it all, but it distracted me, so I chased my tail of thought for a while.

I still hadn’t worked out who was really in control by the time Mom had come to get me. I thought I was, but I knew I wasn’t, which meant, in the end, Stephanie really did have it all. Quite clearly, she had it all. It was a new understanding for me.

I followed Mom down the sickly pink hall and into a small room with an open door. The nurse handed me a gown, a paper facemask, and a cover for my head. Mom put on her own set and walked into the room on the right, the room where Dad was. There were machines and tubes going every which way around him, but he seemed oblivious. “He’s asleep. They’ve given him medicine to help him breathe and some pain medication. It’s all made him sleepy, but you can come in.”

I sat in the chair beside the bed and took his hand in mine. “Are you going out for a little bit?”

“I’m going down to the bathroom and then to find some coffee. You know I stopped smoking years ago, but, right now…” She looked down at her hands, and I knew how stressed she was if she’d thought about smoking again.

“You can handle it, Mom. I know you can. Stay strong.”

“I’ll try, Dylan.” She sighed again, and then she left me alone with Dad.

His hand was frail, and something nagged at me about it. His hands were always broad, strong, but now the skin was paper thin and draped over his bones as if he had no fat on his body at all. I held his left hand, and when I thought about it, I figured out what was wrong. His wedding ring was gone.

I guessed he couldn’t wear it in ICU, but it seemed odd to see him without the golden band on his hand. It had always been there, and now that it wasn’t, I saw just how frail his hands were. “Come on, Dad. You’ve got to pull through this. Mom needs you; I need you.”

I was a grown man, talking to the only man who had given a young boy hope that the future would be better. He’d given me a reason to succeed, to make him proud, and I’d tried my best to do that justice. Now, the man who had always seemed bigger than life was in a hospital bed, a mere shadow of his former self.

“I wish I could make you better, you know. I’d give you twenty years of my life, if it meant I could spend a little bit longer with you, Dad. I really would.”

I could be a narcissist sometimes, and I could definitely be selfish, but over the last week or so, I’d learned a lot. Sometimes doing things for others was rewarding, and not just in the sexual arena. I’d seen how Stephanie had respected and cared for me, and it hit me right in the heart how much I’d liked that.

The parents who had chosen to raise me had taught me a lot. I had to be arrogant to maintain the success the family business had. I had made bold choices and swift decisions that had sometimes meant people lost jobs, but if it meant more success for the hotel, that was what I’d aimed for.

Now, I wondered if I should have left those jobs open and let my bank account take a slight hit. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t afford it. I was really getting into the introspection when Dad’s hand gripped in mine.

“Dylan?” His voice was as dry as paper, and I stood up to offer him some ice chips Mom had left.