Love And The Real Boy - Coming About, Book 2 Read Free

“They’ve done all kinds of tests. They’ve found nothing; no ulcers, polyps, or lesions…Tested negative for Crohn’s, pancreatitis, and gall bladder problems. They can’t find anything obvious.”
    Rich frowned. He’d never trusted doctors.
    “On the scope, all they found was mild gastritis,” Rory continued, “which is just a glorified bellyache. It’s a symptom, not a cause.”
    Rory’s symptoms and the doctor’s lack of findings set a tiny memory wiggling in the back of Rich’s brain. He felt like he’d seen something like this before, but he couldn’t quite grab hold of it.
    “Come on, big guy, let’s get you off the floor,” Rich said. He clutched handfuls of Rory’s thick forearms and hauled him to his feet. He helped Rory into the living room and eased him down on the couch. The community space was closer to their shared bathroom than Rory’s bedroom.
    Rory stretched out longways on the couch, and Rich threw an afghan over his legs, tucking it in around him. Rory gave him a sweet smile, and he melted a little.
    “I’ll get you some water,” Rich said in a gruff whisper and retreated into the kitchen. As he filled a glass with water, he took several deep, cleansing breaths.
    “Christ, Langston,” he said to himself, “you can not fall in love with a straight guy. That only ends up one way, and it ain’t happily ever after.”
    After he finished giving himself a stern talking to, he took the water back out to Rory. The big guy was curled up, remote in hand, watching…
    “The Little Mermaid? Dude.”
    Rory shrugged and gave a weak laugh. “Whenever I was sick as a kid, Mom would keep me home from school and let me watch Disney movies all day. It’s tradition!”
    Tradition. Rich really didn’t know what that was like. The only thing that came close was Friday night movies with John-Michael. They’d always snuggled up together on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn—if they could afford it—and watched whatever movie the foster-parents- du-jour had in their collection. They’d kept it up until they were finally separated.
    “You all right, Man?” Rory’s voice cut into his musings like a butter knife.
    “Hu—what?”
    “You went pale as me there for a second. I hope you aren’t getting sick too.”
    Rich gave himself a mental slap. He was usually much better than this at hiding from the memories. “No, I’m fine. Just thinking. Try’na figure out how to get your hairy ass well again.”
    Rory laughed, then winced, and went back to the movie. Rich stared at the screen while the perky-breasted mermaid fell in love with a complete stranger, but he wasn’t really seeing it.
    He was thinking back to one particular foster sister who’d suffered from almost identical symptoms as Rory for the better part of a year. He didn’t know if they had ever gotten a name for the condition, but they had cleared it up by changing her diet.
    Rich had an idea. “Rory, I think I might be able to help you.”
    Rory paused the movie and propped himself up on the throw pillows. “Yeah? More than you already have?”
    “Yeah. But you’re gonna have to trust me.”
    “Okay.”
    “Okay?”
    “Yeah. Of course I trust you. You’re my boy!” He said, thumping Rich on the shoulder, as if it was just that simple. Maybe it was.
    “Cool,” Rich said, returning the fist-bump Rory had stuck his giant paw out for. “I’m going to cook all your meals for the next week. All of them, no cheating. At the end of it, you’ll either be better, or I’m taking you back to the doctor.”
    “Hey, no arguments here,” Rory said. “You won’t see me passing up a home-cooked meal…Mom.”
    Rich rolled his eyes and tossed a pillow at him. It smacked Rory in the face, and he cackled. He laughed until he turned white, then green. He clapped a hand over his mouth and ran for the bathroom.
    Rich came in a moment later with a cold, wet washcloth and draped it over the back of Rory’s neck as he leaned over