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“Probably in here, working.”
Keith gazed at him. “Not with your family?”
“No. There’s just me now. And working takes my mind off that.” He peered at Keith. “You said you spent Christmas with Michael.”
Keith sighed. “Yeah, I did. What I didn’t tell you was that I spent it in the hospital.”
Yuri’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“When I was younger, I got the flu a lot. And yeah, one time it was so bad, I ended up in the hospital.”
Yuri nodded. “So you have a history of a weak respiratory system? That makes Guillain-Barre easier to explain, then. You were predisposed to it.”
“That’s what the doctors said when I was first diagnosed. Anyhow, in December 1985, I was admitted to the hospital.” He shivered. “And I was scared.”
Yuri caught his breath. “You came close to death?”
Keith nodded. “When the crisis had passed, they let me have visitors.”
He smiled. “Michael.”
“Yeah. I spent a couple of weeks in the hospital—I was there for Christmas—and he came every day. We still weren’t out to our families. They just thought he was being a good person, visiting his best friend.”
“He must have been worried about you,” Yuri murmured.
“Yeah, he was.” Keith managed a smile. “He was also pissed at me. I’ll tell you why in a minute. By then we’d just had our first semester in college.”
“Where did you guys study? And what?”
“I went to the same university you did, to the College of Design, school of Architecture.”
Yuri smiled. “That’s so cool. So you design buildings? Have you designed any I’d know about?”
“Probably, but that’s for another night. Michael was heading for medical school. He wanted to become a doctor.”
Yuri grinned. “You went to the same university? I guess that made it easier to be together, away from the eyes of parents.”
Keith nodded. “We were out in college. It was our first taste of freedom, and we loved every minute. That didn’t mean we were reckless though. We kept our heads down. But that winter, I got sick. We’d planned to spend our winter break seeing as much of each other as we could, but as soon as I got home...”
“You had to be admitted,” Yuri concluded.
“Yeah. I had two weeks where I didn’t see anyone.” Two weeks where he’d thought he’d never see Michael again.
Longest two weeks of my life.
Christmas 1985
Monday, December 16, 1985
It took Keith a moment to realize he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t sure what alerted him. Maybe it was some special sense that revealed the presence of someone beside his hospital bed. He opened his eyes.
Michael stood there looking gorgeous in a red roll-neck sweater and jeans, clutching a bag. His furrowed brow smoothed out and he smiled. “Hey you.” Keith tried to sit up, but he stopped him with a gentle hand. “You stay put, mister.”
“It’s just the flu,” Keith protested, the words coming out as a croak.
“Yeah right. Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but... Do you know how rare it is for a vaccinated person to get a case of flu? And the chances of having to be intubated are even more rare. And yes, I know about that part. Your mom told me.” A spasm crossed his face. “Most people don’t come close to death because of flu. So you just stay put, you hear me?” Michael grabbed the chair and pulled it toward the bed. He placed the bag on the floor, sat, then took Keith’s hand in his.
“Nurse sees you doing that, I’m never gonna hear the last of it.” Hell, even his parents didn’t know what Michael was to him.
