John’s.
“You’re a footballer?” Janet asked as she gave his mud- and grass-stained kit the once-over.
“Just an amateur club,” he said, wishing he’d showered before coming to the hospital.
“Mum, Fergus is the captain of an all-LGBT team.” John fluttered his lashes. “And he’s an architect.”
The praise made Fergus blush, but he was glad to hear pep in John’s voice again.
“Impressive,” she said. “Where are you from?”
“Perthshire. Outside Pitlochry.”
“Beautiful area. John’s father and I spent a night there during our honeymoon.” She paused, perhaps realizing the awkwardness of that fact. “Do you miss it?”
“A bit,” Fergus said, “but I go home a lot to visit my mother.”
“As well you should.” She nudged John. “I like this one. You can keep him.”
“Oh. Erm…” John grimaced at Fergus, then looked past him. “There’s the doctor. Perhaps she can cure me dying of embarrassment.”
Fergus turned to see a middle-aged woman wearing a surgical cap over her fair hair and an untied mask dangling from her neck. She greeted John, then turned to the others. “Are you family as well?”
“No,” Fergus said as John’s mother said, “Not anymore.”
John gave her a sharp look. “You won’t see Dad, even here?”
“I said I came for you, not for him.” Janet looked down, twisting a tattered tissue in her hands. “Besides, it would only upset him to see me.”
For a moment, John seemed to blink back tears. Then his face turned stoic. “You’re probably right.”
Dr. McKenna motioned toward the corridor. “Your father probably won’t be awake for long, so…”
John made a move to follow her, then rushed back to Fergus and kissed his cheek. “I’ll phone you later. Thank you again.”
The moment John was gone, his mother turned to Fergus. “How long have you known my son?”
Ah, the obligatory interrogation. “As of tomorrow, it’ll be a week.”
“Oh.” She sounded both disappointed and intrigued. “Yet you’ve run to be by his side in a crisis? Must have been a significant six days.”
“I suppose.” Now that he thought about it, she was right: He barely knew John. But he hadn’t thought about it when he’d heard John’s voice on the phone, so full of pain. Pure instinct had made him dash off the practice pitch for the nearest taxi.
“Tell me, how is he getting on? His father can be difficult, and now with his brother away—” Janet gasped and covered her mouth. “John did tell you about that, right?”
“He told me Keith was in prison.” Fergus fished for more details. “It’s a shame what happened.”
“I blame myself. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. It happened shortly after I left them last summer. First weekend in July, of all times.” She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t trying to make a point, I only did it then because I knew the house would be empty.”
Relief rushed over Fergus so fast, he barely heard anything after “first weekend in July.” John had told him the truth this time. It was his parents’ anti-anniversary.
He remembered what Janet had originally asked him. “I think John’s got a lot to juggle, between university, his internship, and looking after his father. I don’t know how he does it.”
She smiled sadly. “That boy’s always been a dynamo. But everyone burns out.”
“It’ll be even harder after the surgery. My own father, he was never the same after bypass.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s hard to watch the men we care about grow old before their time.” Janet gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Anyway, you probably want to get home and shower. I’ll see you again soon?”
“I hope so.” He stepped away, taking her subtle hint about his reek.
In the hospital lift, Fergus pulled out his phone and added John’s street address to his contact information. But then his thumb hovered over the words Save and Cancel. Investigating John verged on
“You’re a footballer?” Janet asked as she gave his mud- and grass-stained kit the once-over.
“Just an amateur club,” he said, wishing he’d showered before coming to the hospital.
“Mum, Fergus is the captain of an all-LGBT team.” John fluttered his lashes. “And he’s an architect.”
The praise made Fergus blush, but he was glad to hear pep in John’s voice again.
“Impressive,” she said. “Where are you from?”
“Perthshire. Outside Pitlochry.”
“Beautiful area. John’s father and I spent a night there during our honeymoon.” She paused, perhaps realizing the awkwardness of that fact. “Do you miss it?”
“A bit,” Fergus said, “but I go home a lot to visit my mother.”
“As well you should.” She nudged John. “I like this one. You can keep him.”
“Oh. Erm…” John grimaced at Fergus, then looked past him. “There’s the doctor. Perhaps she can cure me dying of embarrassment.”
Fergus turned to see a middle-aged woman wearing a surgical cap over her fair hair and an untied mask dangling from her neck. She greeted John, then turned to the others. “Are you family as well?”
“No,” Fergus said as John’s mother said, “Not anymore.”
John gave her a sharp look. “You won’t see Dad, even here?”
“I said I came for you, not for him.” Janet looked down, twisting a tattered tissue in her hands. “Besides, it would only upset him to see me.”
For a moment, John seemed to blink back tears. Then his face turned stoic. “You’re probably right.”
Dr. McKenna motioned toward the corridor. “Your father probably won’t be awake for long, so…”
John made a move to follow her, then rushed back to Fergus and kissed his cheek. “I’ll phone you later. Thank you again.”
The moment John was gone, his mother turned to Fergus. “How long have you known my son?”
Ah, the obligatory interrogation. “As of tomorrow, it’ll be a week.”
“Oh.” She sounded both disappointed and intrigued. “Yet you’ve run to be by his side in a crisis? Must have been a significant six days.”
“I suppose.” Now that he thought about it, she was right: He barely knew John. But he hadn’t thought about it when he’d heard John’s voice on the phone, so full of pain. Pure instinct had made him dash off the practice pitch for the nearest taxi.
“Tell me, how is he getting on? His father can be difficult, and now with his brother away—” Janet gasped and covered her mouth. “John did tell you about that, right?”
“He told me Keith was in prison.” Fergus fished for more details. “It’s a shame what happened.”
“I blame myself. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. It happened shortly after I left them last summer. First weekend in July, of all times.” She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t trying to make a point, I only did it then because I knew the house would be empty.”
Relief rushed over Fergus so fast, he barely heard anything after “first weekend in July.” John had told him the truth this time. It was his parents’ anti-anniversary.
He remembered what Janet had originally asked him. “I think John’s got a lot to juggle, between university, his internship, and looking after his father. I don’t know how he does it.”
She smiled sadly. “That boy’s always been a dynamo. But everyone burns out.”
“It’ll be even harder after the surgery. My own father, he was never the same after bypass.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s hard to watch the men we care about grow old before their time.” Janet gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Anyway, you probably want to get home and shower. I’ll see you again soon?”
“I hope so.” He stepped away, taking her subtle hint about his reek.
In the hospital lift, Fergus pulled out his phone and added John’s street address to his contact information. But then his thumb hovered over the words Save and Cancel. Investigating John verged on
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