FOURTEEN
Once the pretenses are dropped and we’ve resolved to be together no matter how things will end, there’s a hesitant vibe created that we try our hardest to ignore.
Whenever I try to bring up the transplant or ask questions about his condition, he withdraws. Whenever I show concern over how he’s growing weak, he gives me the cold shoulder. I learn to hold the subject as taboo despite my nagging resolve to make him change his mind.
The next couple of days we go on a whirlwind tour of the city with Theo as our guide, hitting some swanky and rather obscure places I hadn’t heard of. He surprises us the first day with a private helicopter ride over Manhattan and the other four boroughs.
While I don’t hate the stunning aerial view it provides, the heights thing has me clutching Adam’s hand so tightly that I leave indentations in his skin. The next day we tour through an old underground tunnel that was once occupied by pirates and street gangs, then check out the public library before catching a high-end burlesque show in which an ex-girlfriend of Theo’s is the star.
Having Theo along, acting a buffer so I don’t have to engage in small talk with Adam, turns out to be delightfully accommodating since it’s downright impossible to carry on like nothing’s out of sorts with the recently revealed truth hanging over our heads.
The next day Theo’s too busy working to play tour guide, so I’m left in charge. I admit it’s probably out of sheer panic to avoid the truth when I grab us a taxi to Central Park, and announce we’re going to crash as many activities we come across as possible. We spend the day sampling more than one birthday cake, playing semi-professional frisbee, walking dogs, hanging in random couches by the large fountain, and learning how to play acoustic guitar. The constant action is enough to make us forget our worries, even smiling and laughing with each other.
The following day when we visit Coney Island, it starts out like a dream date. It’s hard not to get caught up in the excitement of the crowd enjoying the sun and sand. We hit each of the amusement park rides, and I eat cotton candy until I’m sick to my stomach. Adam wins me a stuffed puppy by scoring a basket through an undersized hoop, and we spend an excessive amount of time hanging out underneath an umbrella on the beach. Then the fun takes a spiral nose dive when Adam nearly passes out. He won’t let me do anything, and shuffles to a vending machine for a can of pop, downing it in nearly one swallow. I stand by watching him, horrified. I noticed earlier that he was sweating and his hand felt rather clammy, but didn’t say anything, knowing it would only set him off.
In the days to come, Adam grows increasingly weaker. Our days end sooner and involve rides through the city on the red double decker buses. We still make love in the brownstone at least once per day at Adam’s insistence, even though he seems completely wiped and I’m majorly conflicted, questioning why I continue to go along with his denial. It’s a dangerous line between caring and knowing I have to back away if I don’t want to scare him off. It’s a dangerous line between letting him live his life and watching him throw it away.
Theo invites us over nearly every night. We drink beer under the twinkling lights in his backyard, sometimes with his buddies and their girlfriends. One night the three of us even fall asleep there during the early morning hours, Adam and I nestled together in the couch across from Theo. It’s easy to pretend this is our life and that everything’s going to have a happy ending unless Adam has a particularly bad day, or I see the dullness creeping into his gaze, reminding me our time is limited.
I keep in touch nearly every day with Kelly through FaceTime and texts, and call my mom as often as it takes to appease her, continuing with the lie that I’m a counselor at Kelly’s family camp. It takes every ounce of willpower not to break down and tell Kelly everything, beg for her help or advice. But this is the kind of conversation that should be held in person, so I keep up the front that everything’s okay and we’re having a grand time in the big city.
Pretending I’m okay and Adam’s okay begins to wear on me our second week in New York. Before we’re to go on a bar run with Theo and James our last night in the city, Adam heads upstairs for a nap. I lay with him for a while before wandering over to Theo’s place.
“I gotta hand it to you,” Theo says, shaking his head as he opens the door wide.
“You’re a lot tougher than you look. I would’ve thought by now you would’ve broken down instead of playing into Adam’s lie.”
“I need a beer,” I say, brushing past him.
Theo shuts the door behind me, chuckling. “Go, sit out back. I’ll bring you one.”