Pheobe said, “It doesn’t honestly come up often.”
“Nor does mine, honey,” Frasier told her. “But when it does, I shouldn’t need permission to take care of it with a willing partner. This is a retirementhome, not a Gulag.” He sighed. “Well, that’s a problem for another time. Harvey’s not moving in for three days yet.” He turned to Phoebe. “Will you show me tomy current room? The orderly can just put my bags in a corner. I won’t unpack.”
“Sure, Mr. Frasier. You’re on the second floor.”
He chuckled. “Call me Owen. I’m just Mr. Frasier to Zhukov.”
“I’ll take him up,” Lee told Phoebe. “You go back to Mrs. Cohen’s family.”
“All right. Thank you.” She scurried off down the hall.
Lee turned to Owen. “Elevators are this way. I promise, we’ll get this sorted out.”
“Thanks.” Owen tapped his walker. “If someone can play sherpa? I don’t lift weights anymore.” He gestured at three big suitcases against a wall.
I checked the hallways, but no one in an orderly’s scrubs seemed to be hanging about. When Lee hefted the first one, I admired his biceps, then asked, “Want a hand? I’m not doing much except getting beat at checkers again.”
My quip lightened the frown on Lee’s face. “Tom will do that to you. Sure. Grab one?”
I hefted the middle-sized one while Lee picked up the third, walking off with ease. Mine felt like a boat anchor. “What’ve you got in here?” I asked Owen. “Bricks?”
“Better. Books. DVDs. None of that streaming crud.” He pushed his walker after Lee, then gave me a sideways glance. “Speaking of DVDs, anyone ever tell you you look a lot like Griffin Marsh?”
I snorted. “My publicist used to say I didn’t look enough like Griffin Marsh, at least the version on the concert posters.”
“Holy shit.” Owen stopped at the elevator and turned to me. “YouareGriffin Marsh?”
“Once and future, yeah. Right now, I’m the volunteer who’s bringing this heavy-ass bag of yours to your room.”
Owen cackled. “Harvey will be delighted. He’s a big fan.”
“You’re not?” Lee asked as the elevator door opened.
“Kinda.” Owen shuffled into the elevator. His eyes met mine in the mirrored side and he grinned. “You gotta admit you’re no Madonna.”
I stepped in clear of the door and set the bag down. “Yeah, I totally admit that.”
Owen clutched his walker as the elevator lurched upward. “Harvey and I would’ve never got together if we’d talked about music first. I liked Simon and Garfunkel. He liked Judas Priest. Luckily, by the time we got around to ‘What bands do you like?’ we already knew we were solid.”
“How long have you been together?” Lee asked.
“Long time. Forty-eight years. Man’s a saint, putting up with me. Two more and we can buy us a golden toilet or something, celebrate in style.”
I had to laugh, but something deep in my chest ached. If Lee and I had made it, we’d be halfway there, almost. I wouldn’t give up most of the last two decades for anything, but I wondered what life would’ve been like with a true partner, side by side through all those years. In the mirrored wall, Lee looked so competent and professional, the scrubs, the stethoscope, the frown. If I’d done things differently twenty years ago, it would’ve been my job to make him smile…
The elevator dinged and opened. Owen followed Lee out and down the hall, while I brought up the rear.
“You’re sharing with Jonas,” Lee said, nudging open a half-ajar door with his hip. “He doesn’t like changes much, so he’s sitting in the garden while we get you set up and he’ll be in later. Where do you want your bags?”
“Wherever.” Owen surveyed the room, and I took in what he was seeing. Wellhaven wasn’t as rundown as one place I’d gone to, but the rooms were small for two beds, two dressers, and a couple of nightstands. The walls were painted a basic cream with a modest flat screen TV on the far end beside the small window. An industrial tile floor and drop ceiling set with a fluorescent overhead didn’t give much of a homey feel. There was a lamp in one corner, and two rather upright armchairs, but no rug on the floor. I’d been told they were tripping hazards and not allowed.
“Reminds me of college,” Owen said. “Except for the TV. Nineteen fifty-seven that was. My roommate was a holy roller, would wake up in the middle of the night and speak in tongues. He called it bowing to the presence of the Lord. Scared the shit out of me the first time. Never did sleep right. When Dad lost his job and I had to drop out, I admit to a whole lotta relief.”
“I hope Wellhaven won’t be that bad,” Lee said.
“This guy Jonas. He’s not going to be worried about the gay cooties, is he? I’m gonna call my partner a lot in the next three days and talk like we always do. Will that put his nose out of joint?”
“I hope not.” Lee didn’t seem confident. “He knows I’m gay and he’s never demanded a different nurse, and believe me, that’s happened a time or two.”
