is going to need you for the long haul.” Ken’s expression softened, and he leaned over the bed, kissing Hanna on the forehead before stepping away from the bed. Patrick followed him, then turned back to wish Hanna a silent goodbye. Patrick followed a silent Ken through the hallways, Ken’s body rigid with tension.
Night had fallen, and they stepped into the glow of large overhead lights as they emerged from the building and walked through the parking lot. Patrick led them to his car, and when Ken looked like he was going to continue, Patrick took his arm and guided Ken into his car. He wasn’t going to let Ken drive home— he was too worried and distracted. To Patrick’s surprise, Ken didn’t put up a fight.
The drive home was made in complete silence, with only the sound of the road beneath the wheels. Ken stared blankly out the windowthe entire time, and Patrick drove, glancing over at him often. He knew that Ken was being torn apart with anxiety, and Patrick wanted to help but didn’t know how. Finally, Patrick pulled up in front of Ken’s house and the car drifted to a stop. Patrick got out and waited for Ken to do the same, watching from over the roof as Ken schlumped up the walk to his front door. Patrick closed the car door and turned toward his own house. He’d move his car later.
“Patrick,” Ken said, and Patrick stopped walking. “I don’t want to be alone.” Patrick wasn’t completely sure what Ken meant, but he walked back toward Ken’s house and followed him inside.
The house seemed cold and quiet without Hanna to greet him with her squeals and hugs. Ken turned on a light and flopped down on the sofa with a soft sigh before leaning forward so he could bury his face in his hands. Patrick sat down next to him, the words to say that it would be okay forming on his lips, but all that came out was a series of soft grunts that sounded like nothing. He could make some sounds, but not enough to make himself understood. So he gave up, pulling Ken to him and saying what he needed to with his body and hands.
“Is that your way of reassuring me?” Ken asked, and Patrick nodded, hugging him a little tighter. “I shouldn’t have waited. I know what the doctor said, but I still should have taken her in right away.”
Patrick smoothed his hand over Ken’s hair, unable to reassure him any other way. There were times when he felt inadequate, but this wasn’t one of them. Anyone could say the words to try to comfort, but holding Ken in his arms, even if only to comfort him, felt wonderful, and he’d sit like this all night if Ken would let him. “Are you hungry?” Ken asked, and Patrick thought for a few minutes, trying to remember the last time he’d eaten. It had definitely been hours, so he let his arms slip away and stood up, then walked toward the kitchen to see what Ken had in the house.
He opened the refrigerator and then began looking in the cupboards. Patrick expected Ken to follow him, but he heard no footsteps. Figuring Ken needed to be alone for a while, Patrick found some bread and various lunch meats in one of the refrigerator drawers. He was also able to find a few other items, and began making sandwiches. Then he found the plates and glasses. After pouring some milk, Patrick carried a plate and glass into the living room and set it on the coffee table in front of Ken. After returning to the kitchen to get his own plate, Patrick joined Ken, sitting next to him and giving him a small nudge with his elbow to try to get him to eat.
Eventually Ken picked up the sandwich and took a bite before setting it down again. “When I first got Hanna a few years ago, I never imagined how a tiny life could mean so much to me.” Ken sat back, and Patrick ate as he watched Ken stare at the walls. “She was a little slip of a thing, but she had so much energy. I knew as soon as I met her that she was meant for me to love.”
Patrick wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but he lac ked the
Night had fallen, and they stepped into the glow of large overhead lights as they emerged from the building and walked through the parking lot. Patrick led them to his car, and when Ken looked like he was going to continue, Patrick took his arm and guided Ken into his car. He wasn’t going to let Ken drive home— he was too worried and distracted. To Patrick’s surprise, Ken didn’t put up a fight.
The drive home was made in complete silence, with only the sound of the road beneath the wheels. Ken stared blankly out the windowthe entire time, and Patrick drove, glancing over at him often. He knew that Ken was being torn apart with anxiety, and Patrick wanted to help but didn’t know how. Finally, Patrick pulled up in front of Ken’s house and the car drifted to a stop. Patrick got out and waited for Ken to do the same, watching from over the roof as Ken schlumped up the walk to his front door. Patrick closed the car door and turned toward his own house. He’d move his car later.
“Patrick,” Ken said, and Patrick stopped walking. “I don’t want to be alone.” Patrick wasn’t completely sure what Ken meant, but he walked back toward Ken’s house and followed him inside.
The house seemed cold and quiet without Hanna to greet him with her squeals and hugs. Ken turned on a light and flopped down on the sofa with a soft sigh before leaning forward so he could bury his face in his hands. Patrick sat down next to him, the words to say that it would be okay forming on his lips, but all that came out was a series of soft grunts that sounded like nothing. He could make some sounds, but not enough to make himself understood. So he gave up, pulling Ken to him and saying what he needed to with his body and hands.
“Is that your way of reassuring me?” Ken asked, and Patrick nodded, hugging him a little tighter. “I shouldn’t have waited. I know what the doctor said, but I still should have taken her in right away.”
Patrick smoothed his hand over Ken’s hair, unable to reassure him any other way. There were times when he felt inadequate, but this wasn’t one of them. Anyone could say the words to try to comfort, but holding Ken in his arms, even if only to comfort him, felt wonderful, and he’d sit like this all night if Ken would let him. “Are you hungry?” Ken asked, and Patrick thought for a few minutes, trying to remember the last time he’d eaten. It had definitely been hours, so he let his arms slip away and stood up, then walked toward the kitchen to see what Ken had in the house.
He opened the refrigerator and then began looking in the cupboards. Patrick expected Ken to follow him, but he heard no footsteps. Figuring Ken needed to be alone for a while, Patrick found some bread and various lunch meats in one of the refrigerator drawers. He was also able to find a few other items, and began making sandwiches. Then he found the plates and glasses. After pouring some milk, Patrick carried a plate and glass into the living room and set it on the coffee table in front of Ken. After returning to the kitchen to get his own plate, Patrick joined Ken, sitting next to him and giving him a small nudge with his elbow to try to get him to eat.
Eventually Ken picked up the sandwich and took a bite before setting it down again. “When I first got Hanna a few years ago, I never imagined how a tiny life could mean so much to me.” Ken sat back, and Patrick ate as he watched Ken stare at the walls. “She was a little slip of a thing, but she had so much energy. I knew as soon as I met her that she was meant for me to love.”
Patrick wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but he lac ked the
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