Never Enough

counting the days. Even after that talk, he didn’t know why it was so bad. Jonathan and Loretta noticed, maybe because he kept prolonging their regular evening get-togethers in the hotel bar. When there was still a week to go before Andy would be there, he finally thought I have a problem. He emailed his counselor Robyn again, asking if they could do a phone session. She sent back a few suggested times. One of them worked. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said. “Since that thing in September, we’ve been talking about anxiety and whatever in the context of safety. Everything’s fine with that.
There is like zero threat level out here, our manager says the chatter is basically all green, Andy says there’s absolutely nothing doing at home. It’s not about safety. Why am I so freaked out?”
“There was a chance this would happen,” Robyn said. “I think it’s important for you to remember the scope of what happened to you in September. You say you’re not anxious about your personal safety, or about Andy’s. But because he’s not there with you, you are anxious. Now connect that to September.”
“When I got shot.” She didn’t say anything. Victor took the next step.
“When I got shot because I put myself between my husband and a gun.”
Robyn made a sound that meant ‘keep going.’ Victor said the thing he hadn’t said before. “When I made a split-second decision based on the fact that I would rather die than live without him. Oh, fuck.”
“And that hasn’t actually changed, has it.”
“Of course it fucking hasn’t. So all of this mess in my head is that same thing? I’m living without him and I hate it, even though I know perfectly well he’s alive and safe and on his way to me?”
“Victor. You’ve consistently downplayed the severity of that injury.
Some part of you knows how close to dead you were. It’s been less than a year, you’ve been working almost constantly since then, you did not take the time to process. I’m frankly amazed you’ve kept up with our sessions at all.”
“You thought after the tour I’d bail out, didn’t you.”
“One of you was admitting to rage and anxiety. The other one wasn’t.”
“I’m still shielding,” he said, on a sudden realization. “There’s this whole category of stuff I could never tell anybody. I could not open up. I could not show weakness. I’m still not used to the fact that his love is unconditional.”
Robyn didn’t let him past that one word. “Do you think it’s weakness?”
“No, I know, it’s this Latino macho bullshit. Like going to the fucking Emmys less than a week after the shooting.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite that way.” She sounded as if she might have wanted to laugh.
“Andy was so pissed. I said I wanted to go at a moment when he was so mad he went straight to, let’s show all those motherfuckers. And then I wouldn’t let him back out. We had people over that night, everyone was like were you out of your fucking mind. Walking the red carpet, you asshole.” He was laughing. It shouldn’t have been funny, then or now. He couldn’t help it.
He’d survived, they’d both survived, and showing those motherfuckers
hadn’t made anything worse. Might have made things a lot better. “I was on that painkiller high, like, clearly it was not beyond me. Don’t mess with Mexico. Whatever. I’m still glad we did it.”
“Yes, I’m aware. How are you planning to handle it when Andy goes to Miami?”
“Because I can’t be falling apart like this every time he has to live life out of my sight?” Victor sighed. “I’m going to lose him. I know it. He’s ten years older than me. This business with his father is, like, beating at me because I see Eva about to lose Ronnie and I’m already imagining that same pain.”
Robyn repeated the question. “How are you planning to handle it?”
“I am going to do my workouts, and do my relaxation shit, and talk to him every day and tell him I love him. So that no matter what happens he will know that I do.”
Chapter 6
June 2019
The end was in sight, and Andy was on the phone with Rory. “So you’re going to be out of town for ages,” she said. “I know you’ll be checking in.
Did Dana tell you she had to go back East too?”
“No,” Andy said, wondering what that was about. “Something happening?”
“Family wedding. I was invited but when we saw where and who Dana said I didn’t have to go. It was the branch of the family that starts speaking in tongues when they see my tattoos. So I wondered, since we’re both home alone, if you want to come over for dinner. Bring Molly,” she added. “I’d like to see you before you leave.”
“I’d like that too. Tonight?”
“Sure!”
“What can I bring?”
“You, your dog, and whatever you want to drink.”
Which would be everything, Andy thought, and said, “I’m trying not to become a full-blown alcoholic, so how about some Pellegrino.”
“That works,” said Rory, immediately changing her plan regarding wine.
“If we don’t drink a bottle of wine we can have chocolate mousse, right?”
Andy laughed. “Yeah. I’ll bring some of that, too.” He rolled up at Rory and Dana’s cottage at five. The front door was standing open and the pack was out in the yard. Molly jumped out of the car and went into a reunion frenzy with Precious the Malti-Pom, Oscar the dachshund, and Spike the cat.
“You act like you haven’t seen them for years,” he said, amused. He took the carton of Pellegrino and container of chocolate mousse inside. “Hey cherubim! You leave the door open like that and all kinds of misfits can wander in. Where the hell are you?”
“Up in the loft, be down in a second.” It wasn’t a second, but no more than twenty before Rory ran down the stairs. “Hey! Wow.” She studied him for a second. “You look