Handle With Care

 

by AJ

 

 

Adam clicked 'save', closed the file, opened another one and picked up his coffee mug. God, he hated working on Saturdays, even from home. Sometimes it couldn't be avoided, though, especially near the end of the term. Why did so many students insist on waiting until the last minute to turn in papers they had known about for weeks? Worse, why did they all start writing the papers the night before they were due?

 

He swallowed the last mouthful of coffee in his mug - ice cold, of course, counted three misspelled words in the first paragraph and closed his laptop decisively. He had done enough work for a Saturday morning. It was time to go spend some quality time with Seb. He picked up his mug and left the room.

 

"What’s the matter, Seb?" Adam entered the kitchen and found his dark-haired partner sitting at the table, staring into space, his phone and an unopened Coke on the table in front of him. He had been on the phone with his grandmother earlier and Adam immediately leaped to the obvious conclusion. "Is there something wrong with Nana?'

 

"She's moving," Seb told him dully.

 

"Where? Why?" Adam filled his cup and sat down next to Seb, covering the younger man's hand with his own.

 

"To an assisted living facility." Seb spoke the words as if they were a death knell. "Next month."

 

"When did she decide this? And why?" Adam repeated his earlier question. He popped the top on the can of Coke and handed it to Seb.

 

"She said she's been planning it since she fell." Seb took the can and cradled it between his hands without drinking. "She said she's worried about living alone now."

 

Adam nodded. She had slipped in the bathroom a couple of months earlier and hit her head on the tub. Fortunately she hadn't been seriously injured but he knew it had scared both her and Seb.

 

They had asked her to come live with them after that, even offering to create a 'mother-in-law' suite so she would continue to have her privacy. She had refused. They needed to have their own place, not be bothered by an old woman, she had told them, and nothing they could say had swayed her opinion.

 

 "Did she give you the name of the place?" Adam asked, his mind already focused on the details. "How did she hear about it? Did she sign a contract already?"

 

"It's called Oak Shores." Seb's lips quirked. "She said to tell you she thoroughly checked it out, it has a good reputation and she knows several people who live there."

 

Adam laughed. "I think I'll look into it anyway, just to be sure. What else did she say?"

 

"That you would look into it anyway, just to be sure." Seb's smile was broader now and he took a swig of his Coke and set the can back on the table. "She said she'll have her own apartment and she can be as independent as she wants. She can either cook for herself or eat in a community dining room or they'll bring her meals to her. There's always a nurse on call and someone will check on her every day, more often if necessary. She can take her own furniture but it's only a one bedroom apartment so she won't have room for everything. I won't be able to stay with her anymore." Seb's tone, which had become slightly more cheerful, turned bleak again.

 

Adam stood up and tugged Seb to his feet and then into a reassuring hug.

 

"I don't want her to move," Seb whispered into Adam's shoulder. "I don't want anyone else to live in her house."

 

"I know, babe." Adam stroked the younger man's hair comfortingly. Seb and his grandmother had always been close; she had been widowed when Seb was a baby and he had frequently stayed with her when he was growing up. Even now, living two hours away, he talked to her often and they visited her regularly. "But we have to think about what's best for her."

 

"I know." Seb pulled away and sat back down. "But I still don't have to like it."

 

"No, you don't. As long as you remember to support her decision." Adam looked at him warningly. "It probably wasn't an easy one for her to make."

 

"I know. She wants us to help her move."

 

"When?"

 

"In a couple of weeks," Seb told him. "I thought I'd take a few days off work and help her sort and pack and then you can come on the weekend and help with the actual move."

 

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Adam agreed. "I'll put it on my calendar. Now, how about lunch?"

 

"IHOP?" Seb brightened.

 

"Kitchen," Adam told him firmly, then partially relented. "We'll go to IHOP for breakfast tomorrow, ok?"

 

"Ok," Seb agreed. He hesitated, then added, "We can still visit her, right? Even though we'll have to stay in a hotel?"

 

"Of course we can," Adam assured him. "As often as you'd like."

 

 

The house seemed empty after Seb left for his grandmother's. Adam caught up on paperwork, had dinner with friends, looked into the assisted living facility and, of course, spoke with Seb on the phone but the days dragged.

 

"What did you get done today?" he asked one night as he piled the pillows against the headboard, got into bed and shoved Jose over to Seb's side of the bed.

 

"We finished sorting everything in the kitchen and went through photo albums," Seb replied. His voice was muffled and then faded altogether, replaced by a distinct thud. "Sorry about that. I was taking my shirt off and I dropped you."

 

"Ouch," Adam responded automatically, distracted by the thought of a shirtless Seb. "I miss you."

 

"I miss you, too," Seb replied softly. "Nana rented the house to a couple from her church. They signed the lease today."

 

"You knew she was going to," Adam gently reminded him. He pushed Jose out from under the sheet.

 

"I know. It just makes it so final, you know?"

 

"What is she doing about the extra furniture?" Adam changed the subject to a more practical one as Jose climbed on his chest and started kneading.

 

"She's leaving some of it in the house and taking some to Goodwill. She's giving us some stuff, too - some special things she wants us to have, so make sure there's room in the car," Seb instructed.

 

"I'll limit myself to one small bag," Adam promised meekly. "I'll be there Friday evening, all right?"

 

"Sure."

 

Seb still sounded down but Adam knew a sure-fire way to make him feel better. "You up for some phone sex?"

 

Seb laughed at the horrible pun, as Adam had hoped he would. "Always."

 

"Ok. Hang on while I throw the cat out."

 

 

Adam was late getting out Friday evening, late enough to hit the worst of rush hour traffic, which meant arriving late for dinner. He had phoned and told them to go ahead and eat without him but naturally they had waited.

 

"You should have gone ahead," he scolded them after he had dropped his bag and hugged and both of them. "Or met me at a restaurant instead of cooking."

 

"We wanted to cook," Seb told him wistfully. "It's the last meal in this house."

 

"The new people aren't going to eat?" Adam asked teasingly. He gave a warning glance toward Nana and Seb caught the hint.

 

"Doesn't count unless they invite us for dinner," he teased back, letting Adam know he had gotten the message. "Come on. We're having fried chicken and everything is ready."

 

"We'd better hurry then," Adam told him, leading the way to the table. "Nobody makes better fried chicken than Nana."

 

Conversation over dinner ranged from discussion about the new apartment and its facilities to details about the move to stories about Seb's childhood. Afterwards, Seb and Adam did the dishes while Nana finished some last minute packing but they didn't stay up late. The next day was going to be a long one.

 

Seb was in charge of the move since his responsibilities at the gallery included the shipping and receiving of artwork as well as organizing displays. Adam wasn't surprised to find that he had color-coded everything and plastered it all with large stickers designating the final location.

 

Everything, including furniture, destined for the apartment had a large green sticker on it, along with a smaller colored dot designating the room it went into. Other colors were used for items to be left behind in the house, those going to the thrift store or the consignment shop, those destined for friends and the boxes going home with Adam and Seb.

 

They had hired a moving company run by local college students and the college movers plus several volunteers arrived bright and early. Seb, who had already made a bakery run, offered everyone coffee, juice and pastries as he ran through their assignments for the day.

 

"What am I supposed to do?" Adam asked meekly when it came to his turn, both proud of and slightly amused by Seb's Alpha imitation.

 

"Would you go with Nana and help her start putting things away at the apartment?" Seb asked.

 

'And keep her from overworking,' was the unspoken implication and Adam nodded assuringly. "Can do."

 

With so much enthusiastic help, the majority of the move had been accomplished by mid-afternoon and Nana, her bed put together and remade with fresh linens from a green-stickered, red-dotted box, was taking a short break from unpacking.

 

Adam and Seb found themselves alone in the old house, doing one last check of cupboards, closets and drawers and sweeping out the empty rooms. A cleaning crew would be coming in to prepare for the new tenants but Adam found it impossible to ignore even the small amount of trash left behind.

 

"I'm proud of you," he told Seb, resting his hand on the young man's shoulder, then turning him into an embrace. "I know this has been hard for you and you've done a great job."

 

"Thanks." Seb rested his head on his partner's shoulder. "I have so many memories here. It's going to be hard to see new people living here, changing things."

 

"They won't change much," Adam comforted him. "They're only renting, not buying it."

 

"I know, but--"

 

"Shh." Adam put his finger on Seb's lips. "No buts. Let's finish up here and get back before Nana starts trying to prepare a five-course meal for dinner. Think she likes IHOP?"

 

"I know she does." Seb's mood brightened, as Adam had known it would.

 

 

Sunday was a more leisurely day than Saturday had been. After spending the night at a nearby hotel, they had breakfast in the community dining hall, followed by a tour of the building with Nana. Adam had to admit it was friendly, clean and well-run. He wouldn't have to worry about any of the horror stories he had heard about neglect or isolation in other facilities. Nana was excited about the activities that were provided, the outings that were arranged for the residents and being close to her friends.

 

Even Seb could see that she would be happier here than living alone and worrying about her decreasing abilities. He was looking cheerful as they loaded up their car and said their good-byes but his mood, always mercurial, darkened again during the drive home. Adam prudently took over the driving at the halfway point. Seb, his mood and end-of-the-weekend traffic were not a good mix and he'd rather not deal with discipline at this point.

 

"I'm going to back into the driveway," he said as he turned onto their street. "It will be easier to unload than if I pull into the garage."

 

"Ok," Seb told him indifferently. "Whatever."

 

He wasn't indifferent as he pulled the first box from the car. "What's this doing here?" he demanded as he lifted out a carton of old, mismatched dishes and read the label.

 

"Aren't those the dishes you wanted to save?" Adam asked as he hefted a box of books. "It has a red sticker on it."

 

"No, these were supposed to go to the thrift store. You didn't leave Nana's good china at the thrift store, did you?" Seb asked in sudden alarm.

 

"Relax, Seb. You checked those boxes as we unloaded them," Adam reminded him. "I think the china is on the back seat."

 

"Oh, yeah." Seb's relief turned to dismay as the bottom fell out of the carton he was holding and dishes cascaded to the ground. "God DAMN it!" He grabbed a plate and hurled it at the garage door, then cringed, obviously expecting a sharp reproof from Adam.

 

Adam bit back his automatic comment, considering the situation. Seb wasn't having a temper tantrum; he was relieving his stress, seeking an outlet for the emotions that he had suppressed all week out of consideration for his grandmother.

 

In Adam's opinion, Seb needed that emotional outlet far more than Goodwill needed a box of old crockery. Picking up a cracked coffee mug, he pitched it at the garage, where it shattered and slid down the door. He picked up another mug and handed it to Seb. "Your turn."

 

"Adam?" Seb said hesitantly, clearly wondering if his partner had lost his mind. "What are you doing?"

 

"I'm giving you a cup to throw at the garage," Adam explained patiently. "You deserve to break something."

 

"Oh." Seb took the mug from him, aimed and then paused. "Are you sure about this?"

 

"Sebastian, just throw the damned cup."

 

"If you say so." Seb took aim again and hurled the mug, grinning delightedly at the explosion when it hit the door, and then stepped back. "Your turn."

 

Piece by piece, they demolished the box of dishes and then Adam dusted his hands together. "Get the broom and start cleaning up while I unload. We don't want to get glass in the tires."

 

"Ok. Adam?" Seb paused on his way to get the broom and detoured back to the older man for a long, loving embrace. "Thank you. For everything."

 

"Any time," Adam told him and then corrected himself. "Well, not any time. This was a one shot deal. The 'no throwing' rule still applies the rest of the time."

 

Seb gave him a reproving look. "I know that, Adam. I'm not stupid."

 

"No, you aren't. You're one of the most intelligent, empathetic, compassionate men I know, and I appreciate your care and concern for your nana."

 

Seb blushed at the praise. "Love you, Adam."

 

"Love you, Sebastian. Now go clean up that mess."

 

The End