“In the room,” BT declared, not looking back as he went toward the front door.
“Oh no, you’re leaving today. I’ll be taking you to the airport,” he stated.
“You can’t be serious!”
And there it was—the twirl. BT used the heel of the boot to spin around, his coat and his hair floating out around him. Arik decided that might be a coveted move on the runway, but its value diminished in his home.
“More than. You’re already making me late. At this point, we’ll have to make a stop before I take you to the airport.”
“I flew all this way to this dust bowl for you to send me back?” BT stomped his foot with a meaningful little huff.
“You wasted your time; now you’re wasting mine. Get your shit and hurry.” Arik finally left the threshold of his office, walking toward Steffan.
“I’ll have to pack.”
Arik’s temper rose. He pivoted, taking off for the spare bedroom instead of the front door, stopping in disbelief just inside the doorway. How could the room be this messy with one man spending no more than six hours in there, most of which should have been while sleeping? Arik reached for the suitcase, flipping the lid as he tossed it on the bed. He then unceremoniously began throwing BT’s things inside. Only when Arik made his way to the bathroom did Steffan enter the room.
“You’re being a brute. Don’t touch my straightener! You’ll break it.”
“You have two minutes to be at the front door or this whole situation’s changing. I won’t be so nice if you insist on making me any later than I already am. I’ll have security escort you to the airport, which I should have done from the beginning,” Arik declared through gritted teeth. He paused, even lifting a finger to BT before he moved. He could have deposited Steffan in the security office of the lobby to wait out his stay. Why hadn’t he thought about that option before?
He’d been pushed too far. No one ever liked the consequences when he made his final stand. Arik left the room, watching the second hand on his watch, now praying BT took longer than the two minutes just so he could follow through with his threat.
~?~
Taking the steps up two at a time, Kellus moved quickly and grabbed the door handle seconds before a family leaving the building was able to push through. He smiled, nodding at the look of surprise on the older woman’s face. She’d not seen him coming, too absorbed in the conversation going on around her to notice his approach. He held the door for them as they left, listening to the same kind of dialogue he’d heard over and over since his first appointment all those months ago. Honestly, the Tarrant County Department of Health did right. They gave hope—no question there—but they also involved entire families in their education and care. They had a first-class AIDS awareness division with a warm and inviting facility. A person couldn’t help but be at ease in their care.
The cool air rushed out of the building while he waited for every member of the large family to exit. The temperature had already reached the upper eighties and it was only eleven in the morning. Another hot day.
No one acknowledged him; instead, they did what people always did as they left the building—shared all the hope and positives they had learned from the doctors, nurses, and patient advocates employed there. He made eye contact with the only man in the group. The fear in his eyes made Kellus wish he was at a point to know how to help, but he had nothing really to offer except a reassuring smile. He was still figuring all of this stuff out on his own. His friends and family, what he used to refer to as his cheerleading team, had given up on him months ago when he’d let John back into his life for the third time. They’d washed their hands of him and this weird co-dependency thing he had toward his ex. He got it, didn’t judge them at all; it just made this whole deal a little harder. He lived his life virtually alone.
At least this family had each other. That had to help.
Once everyone had made it through the door he held open, he headed inside and down the long corridor to his physician’s office to sign in. The receptionist at the desk always had a warm, friendly smile.
“Hi, Kellus. We’re running behind. If you want, you can go sit in the hall and wait. I know how you feel about the waiting room.”
“Thanks. You doing okay?” he asked, anchoring an arm across the counter to get a little closer to her. The last few times he’d been in, she’d had some struggles with a sick mother causing her lots of concern.