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You're in the eight grade. You know these things. You know how to ride a dirt bike, and you know how to do long division, and you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn't do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn't matter anymore.
A Primer for the Small Weird Loves by Richard Siken
BEFORE
When Frank Langdon is eight years old a boy kisses him in the park.
The boy's name is Jonah.
Frank likes the way it feels on his tongue. Jonah. He murmurs it sometimes when he's alone. Barely a whisper. The feeling he gets in his tummy reminds him of how he feels when his parents take him to mass. There's a crucifix behind the priest and the man on it always stares at Frank.
(Once, he wrote the name on the last page of his notebook until it was entirely covered. Jonah, Jonah, over and over again.)
Jonah has dark brown skin and very curly hair. He doesn't look at all like Frank. He doesn't really look like anybody they know. Most of the people that live in their small town have blond hair and blue eyes like Frank does. But Jonah and his family don't.
Jonah's named after a great man who got swallowed by a whale once. Frank read about it in the bible. He asked him about it one morning before class.
Are you scared of whales, Jonah?
I ain't scared of anything, Frank. Nothin' at all.
Frank's father says a lot of bad things about Jonah and his family, but Frank's father says a lot of bad things about everyone. It's just the way he is.
So, yeah, Jonah's a bit different. Frank is a little bit different too. They're not exactly different in the same ways, but neither of them get along with the other kids. They got that in common.
After school they ride their bikes all the way to the small abandoned park by the woods. It's close enough to Frank's house that they can go get a glass of water when they get thirsty.
That day, they sit side by side counting bugs. It's a competition. Jonah is winning, like usual. Frank's letting him, like always.
Jonah keeps stealing glances at him. Frank is not really sure what it means, but he himself can't avoid looking at Jonah's small hand every time he points at a new creepy-crawly. He guesses it's only fair.
Jonah moves a little bit closer, after a while.
"Frank?"
"Yeah?" Frank answers. He places his left hand just beside Jonah's. Their pinkies brush.
"You ever kiss anyone?"
It is getting dark. In a couple of minutes they'll say goodbye and go home and sleep and wake up and do the same thing again the next day. Crickets are chirping and birds are hooting. They're alone in the park.
Frank bites his lip and looks down at their hands. "Nope," he says. "Have you?"
He looks up to Jonah, who's already staring at him. Jonah's got this funny way of looking at him. It makes Frank feel a bit weird. It reminds him unexpectedly of that scene in The Iron Giant, which they saw in the community center a couple years ago. The one with the big explosion.
Jonah shakes his head and sighs.
"Do you want to?"
Frank's heart is beating very loudly. He wonders if Jonah can hear it too. "I do." He swallows. "But we're boys."
Jonah sighs like he's thought about that many times before. "But aren't you supposed to kiss people you like? Maybe it's alright if it's us, don't you think?"
It's not alright.
Frank presses his lips against Jonah's. Frank's father had walked to the park to look for him because Frank forgot to take out the trash. Frank's father separates them, yells at Jonah and drags Frank home. His grip on Frank's skinny arm is so tight it bruises.
He tells Frank he won't have a fag for a kid. He promises to beat it right out of him. He does.
*
Frank's father made him talk with a priest.
He is never to talk to Jonah again. He is never to act on those thoughts again. He is to say the Lord's Prayer ten times a night for a month. It cannot happen again; God will forgive him once.
*
Frank never speaks to Jonah again.
It hurts like a stitch on his side. It hurts when he walks, when he has lunch alone at school, when he sees Jonah have lunch alone as well. It hurts when he's in his room, covered beneath his sheets.
Once, Frank is out buying some bread and jam because his mom is sick again and she hasn't left her bed in days and they're out of food. He bumps into Jonah's dad in the store. He stops abruptly and stares at the man.
Jonah's dad has already seen him; there's no point in hiding.
Frank straightens his back and waits. To his surprise, when the man crouches down in front of him and touches his face, it's softly, with care. Frank still flinches.
"Hey, son, you been okay?"
Frank can't talk.
"Jonah misses ya. He's been mopin' 'round for weeks."
Jonah's dad works at the shop downtown. His white t-shirt and faded jeans have grease all over them. He is smiling at Frank though he looks tired and sweaty from work.
Frank shrugs. Jonah must have not told him what happened. If he knew, Frank thinks, he wouldn't speak to him like this.
Jonah's father sighs. "Don't listen to that father of yours, 'ight?" He picks Franks face with his hand and makes Frank meet his gaze. "You did nothin' wrong."
Frank frowns. He doesn't understand.
"Take care, kid."
*
His father finds the notebook.
Frank didn't even remember.
It's been years since it happened and he tries not to think about it too much.
He has a class with Jonah this year, which had not happened in a while. They share ninth year chemistry, but have managed to avoid each other even though the class is only fifteen people.
He comes back from soccer practice and his mom is crying in the kitchen, which is normal and his dad is sitting on the couch, which is also normal. But his dad has the notebook closed on his lap and Frank knows the drill by now.
*
Frank never grows out of it.
He never speaks of it again.
He can't avoid looking at boys. The way light falls on Tommy's face in math class or how James laughs when he's drunk. He looks and he stares and he wishes and he dreams, but he never speaks of it.
He graduates high school without incident.
His parents won't drive him to college so he packs a bag with his clothes and books and he leaves.
He sees Jonah one last time at the bus stop. Jonah stops walking and stares at him. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
Frank leaves.
*
In college he befriends Abby.
She is a little bit weird too.
They meet in a microbiology course in their first semester. Frank's a pre med major because he likes fixing things. Abby's a pre med major because her mom is a doctor.
Birds of a feather, he thinks.
They start hanging out a lot. Mostly they go to her dorm. Her roommate dropped out a month into classes so she's got the whole room to herself. His roommate isn't that bad, but he keeps asking Abby out. So... her dorm it is.
They get to know each other there. She's full of surprises, it seems. She likes Shakespeare and is very into Medieval History. Even though she does her full face every day, she really hates makeup. Her dorm always smells a little bit like weed and incense, which she lights daily. She grimaces at his energy drink habit and pretends her daily coffee intake isn't as concerning.
She just gets him, he thinks. People normally assume they are dating and, though they never agree to it, they don't correct them.
*
He's on a morning run when he gets hit by a car.
The driver flees the scene because of course he does and Langdon stays on the ground feeling blood drench his shirt until he passes out.
He wakes up again at a hospital.
Abby's right there by his side when they tell him he's got a displaced vertebra. Traumatic spondylolisthesis. It's Grade I, which means he doesn't need surgery. Instead he does several months of PT and is prescribed painkillers and corticosteroids.
A year later he is back to normal. Mostly. He can walk and run and has full motion of his back. The pain never really goes away.
*
One of his teachers is concerned about him.
He does some TA for a little extra cash and grows close to his professor.
She tells him he ought to sleep more, eat better, have more fun. He doesn't really know how to tell her his life doesn't really make sense to him since he got kissed at eight years old.
She recommends he see a psychologist.
He laughs and tells her he will when he can afford it.
*
In the end, it's Abby's idea –which, of course it is. She's always been smarter than him.
They're smoking in his dorm for once. They finally got through exams' week and they're celebrating.
She blurts it out. "What if we get married?"
Langdon looks over at her. He thinks he should be more taken back, but weed makes the world feel very far away. He laughs. "I'm not the kind of person you're looking for, Abby. I'm not... I'm - It won't work. Ever."
She takes his hand. "I know, Frank. That's why I'm offering. I'm the same."
That should surprise Langdon, but it doesn't. He's always known, he thinks. Maybe it's what drew them to each other since the beginning.
She's looking at him, expecting an answer.
He thinks about Jake from pathology. The way his eyes wrinkle when he smiles. How he side-hugged him when they were out clubbing. How Jake kept looking at Frank's lips. How Frank left before Jake kissed him because Frank knew Jake was gonna kiss him. How Frank's been avoiding him ever since.
He thinks about Jonah.
He nods.
AFTER
Langdon comes back to work nine months after rehab.
After countless meetings with HR, he finally gets put back on a normal rotation. He'll work normal twelve hour shifts until he completes his last residency year, which he has to start over again.
Gloria decides the night shift is the best option for him.
For once, he actually agrees with her. He gets to see the kids more that way and he can avoid bumping into Robby or Collins or Dana or Santos or anybody really. He does miss working with Yolanda, but they have her over for dinner all the time. So really the night shift is better.
"How's my favorite coworker doing today?"
Frank closes his eyes and sighs. Dr Shen is the only downside to working nights. He turns around shutting his locker closed and grimaces. "All it took was a week and now I'm your favorite coworker?"
Shen smiles. "Ellis and Abbot intimidate me. You're fun to, well, make fun of."
"Glad you're entertained."
Shen smiles that smile of his again, slurps his disgusting caramel latte and leaves.
Langdon gets ready for a long shift.
*
Abbot checks his locker before and after every shift. Langdon has to empty out his bag and stand there while Abbot looks for any drugs.
It's embarrassing to say to least, but he powers through it.
He knows this is the one chance he gets. The hospital won't throw him another lifeline. This is all he has. And he's fucking trying, alright?
"Alright," Abbot says once he's finished. They start putting all his shit back in his bag. "You doing okay, kid?"
Frank nods. "Yeah, I'm alright. I wouldn't come if I thought I was a liability. I swear."
Frank's never been good about money. It probably stems all the way down to his childhood and his father's lack of ability to hold down a job.
Right now is probably the worst it's ever been, considering he was on unpaid leave for months. But he isn't lying. He won't come if he thinks he is endangering patients. He'll manage without the shifts, he'll make something work. He's drawn the line there.
Abbot nods, but then, "I wasn't asking about the patients. I was asking about you."
Frank's mouth falls open in surprise. "Yeah, yeah, I'm doing good. I swear."
*
"I'm going to be honest with you, Frank. I'm worried about you."
Dr Smith is the psychiatrist he's been seeing ever since he got out of rehab. She's a small blonde woman with a bunch of tattoos everywhere. She's a no-bullshit kinda person, and Frank guesses that's why they get along so well. Except when he kinda hates her for being right. Like right now.
It stings.
"What? But I'm doing great. I'm sober, I'm working, I'm doing PT, I'm doing everything everyone's asking of me. I'm trying so fucking hard."
Dr Smith nods hurriedly. "You are, Frank. I'm sorry, I didn't explain myself. I think you should be proud of yourself for all of that. You've come a long way and it's cost you a lot. It's important to recognize that."
She hesitates for a second. "But it seems to me, you've been doing all of this for someone else. For your kids, for your wife, for your coworkers. This is probably very hard to hear, but I don't think you want to get better for yourself."
Langdon opens his mouth to answer, but finds he can't really defend himself. He's quiet.
"I know it's hard, but it's really important we talk about this. Your sobriety, your mental stability cannot depend on other people, Frank. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to them," she keeps going after a couple minutes.
When he speaks, his voice is rough and brittle. "I don't think I know how to do things for myself."
She nods and writes something down.
"Thank you for being honest, that's the first step. The rest, we can figure out together."
*
Whenever he can -which is most nights- he tucks his kids in.
He usually starts with Millie, if only because she's younger and she gets tired first.
Today is different. It's Tanner's first week on the soccer team and he's been falling asleep very quickly after dinner.
He gives him a small kiss on his forehead and closes the door behind him as he leaves.
Millie is waiting for him already laying down.
He sits down on the bed by her side and starts reading. His hand finds its way to her head and he combs her hair softly.
Her blinks are getting longer and longer and it's only a matter of minutes now.
"Daddy?"
He closes the book gently. "Yes, honey?"
"Will you love me forever? Like the mom in the story?"
He can recognize -even if he hasn't been brave enough to admit it in therapy- that his marriage to Abby was a mistake. He doesn't like to think about why they got married in the first place and he still, even after all these years, hasn't told anyone but Yolanda. That being said, he will never regret it - not when it gave him his kids.
He can't explain how his life changed forever when they were born, when he carried them for the first time. It felt like he'd never loved before, he didn't know love could be like that. Unconditional and forever. He'd die and kill and everything in between for them. He doesn't think there is a single thing he wouldn't do to make sure they're absolutely happy.
It's so strange to him to feel this way and then think of his own father. He can't fathom ever hurting them. And, yet, he has. He's an addict who left them to go to rehab. So he might be failing spectacularly and maybe they'll grow up to resent him like he does his own father. But he'll always love them. No matter what.
"Of course, sweetie. I'll love you until the end of time."
He stays until her breaths even out and she's asleep.
*
"You are a fucking idiot."
He briefly considers shutting the door right on her face.
"Welcome in, Yolanda. It's good to see you too. How are you? I'm doing great. Thanks for asking."
She groans and rolls her eyes at him. "Shut up and let me in."
Garcia walks into his house and leaves her shoes by the entrance without missing a beat. They walk together to the kitchen, where she goes straight to the fridge and stores the bowl she was carrying.
"Why am I an idiot this time?" Frank asks with a grin. "You call me that for so many reasons, I've completely lost track."
She sighs, her own grin falling. "Why didn't you tell Robby you got fucking hit by a car in college?"
And what?
"What? What does that have to do with anything? And surely I mentioned it... sometime. At least once."
Yolanda shakes her head. She opens the fridge once more and takes out one of Abby's Dr Pepper cans. Disgusting, if you ask him. It opens with a hiss and she takes a big gulp. "Clearly you didn't," she says. "And I didn't know so... I accidentally told him."
She keeps quiet like she's afraid he'll be upset, which is weird because they fight all the time and it's never been an issue before.
"So?" Langdon sits down on the table and fiddles with the salt shaker. He chuckles when she doesn't say anything. "It's not like I'm going to be mad that you told him."
Yolanda stares at him. "You're a fucking idiot, Frank."
"What?"
"I'm not fucking concerned you'll be angry with me. We fight all the fucking time. Actually, I'm more fucking concerned that you aren't. But that isn't the point. The point is... I'm scared for you. I - I know we don't really do this emotional shit or whatever, but since you came back from rehab you're acting like a fucking ghost, Frank."
Her brow is furrowed and she's breathing heavily. Frank avoids her eyes. She sits down in front of him.
"I was talking with Robby and Dana the other day. And they asked about you because -even if you can't get it through your thick head- they fucking care about you. And I told them PT has been good for you, that you were seeing some new neurologist that actually fucking listened to you unlike Hagan. They were surprised to hear your injury was that serious - which was weird to me until I told them that yeah you'd exacerbated the pre-existing injury when you helped Abby's parents move. Dana asked, Pre-existing injury? I said Yeah, you know, when he was fucking hit by a car in college?"
Yolanda laughs wryly.
"And they didn't fucking know," she whispers. "Didn't even have a clue. And it made me realize. You've always acted like that - Since I met you almost eight years ago, you've always been on automatic. Like you're fucking dead, Frank."
Frank's smile falls. Suddenly, even though it's ninety degrees out, he feels very cold.
"You've never fucking - I don't know, acted like your a person with - with things that you like and dislike and things that happen to you and people you love and people that love you back and... I mean your fucking marriage, Frank. It's like you did it because you thought you should, like you didn't have a choice. You act like there's some fucking cosmic force that's keeping you from actually living and letting people in and - and being happy."
Frank looks down to his hand. He traces the scar on the side of his thumb. The one he got cleaning up a broken bottle in the aftermath of his father's alcohol induced rage.
He doesn't say anything. She doesn't either, for a while. Until, "It scares me because I don't think I realized. And I'm your best friend."
She clears her throat and takes another long sip.
They stay sitting down for a long time. Abby comes home eventually and stops abruptly by the door when she sees them. She sighs and Frank is always fucking disappointing her, isn't he? Abby walks over snatches the Dr Pepper from Yolanda's grip and drains it in a single slurp.
*
Robby keeps avoiding him at hand-off.
Which is fine. Great, even. It's the whole reason he wanted nights.
There's this tiny eight year old in him that always looks for Robby anyway. Desperate to find out if today will be the day Frank can apologize and Robby can forgive him and everything will go back to the way it was before.
Frank wonders if one day he won't live under his father's thumb.
*
Langdon's got a bit of a headache and he is so tired that his eyes keep drooping closed. He's lucky he didn't drive to his shift today, though he really doesn't want to fall asleep on the subway either.
For a second he debated taking a short nap on the break room, but he quickly changed his mind. He just wants to go home. He just hopes he'll still be sleepy when he gets there.
As he walks into the locker room, he immediately notices there's a lot of people gathered around there. He doesn't really give a fuck until he notices they are standing in front of his locker.
He swallows down the urge to ask if there's a line to search his locker for drugs.
It becomes even weirder when he notices who the people are. There's Dana, Mel, Perlah, Princess, Cassie and Mohan whispering over something they appear to be holding in front of them, though he can't see what it is. Whitaker's right in front of them facing the door but his attention is on the puppy videos running on his phone. Jesus.
"Yeah, sorry to bust the party, but could you maybe let me pass to my locker? Please?"
He tries to leave the annoyance out of his tone, but judging by the way they all jump at the sound of his voice he's sure he failed. That is until he sees what they're holding in their hands.
"Whitaker! We told you to watch the fucking door." Dana sighs and runs a hand over her perfect bun, but she's looking fondly at Langdon.
Whatever Whitaker says back is missed by Frank completely because - they're holding a cake. It's white and has sprinkles and smells fucking delicious and there are unlit candles on top. Right in the center, in loopy handwriting, is his name.
They yell out some complicated combination of surprise and happy birthday. He tries to smile (because fuck he kinda has to build bridges, doesn't he?), but it might look more like a grimace.
Mohan gives him a soft smile when he looks back up. Mel is smiling radiantly, like she's actually excited for him. Perlah and Princess are staring at him.
"We couldn't actually light the candles, Dr Langdon. On account of, um, the fire alarms or, you know, the oxygen tanks. You know at my VA rotation I heard about one time-" Mel starts.
Frank nods, but he's looking at Dana.
"-ut anyway, we still wanted to surprise you and wish you a happy birthday."
Frank's heart is in his fucking throat and he's still looking at Dana.
Dana was there on Frank's very first shift, years ago. She was there during the pandemic, when he didn't see his kids for months and he thought the heartache alone would kill him; she was there when a patient on a psychotic break clean knocked him out and he had to get a CT to rule out any intracranial bleeding; she visited at rehab. She's always been there.
He wonders if the reason he feels so lonely is because he never lets anyone in.
Dana holds his gaze and smiles at him.
So, he doesn't think about the fact that Abby did not remember his birthday. He doesn't think about how he is failing as a father, as a husband, as a friend. He smiles and he pretends to blow out the candles.
*
There was this study where whole bunch of people were asked about their fruit eating habits. Two decades later, they were presented a mental health questionnaire. The people who ate several daily servings of fruits and vegetables, were 21% less likely to experience symptoms of depression.
Frank read it at college. Or maybe not. He doesn't remember. Actually, maybe he made it up completely in rehab. Confabulation is a symptom of withdrawal after all.
Who knows?
Even if it doesn't exist, he thinks as he checks the oranges for bumps, it can't hurt to eat more of them. In rehab, they talked about healthy habits, about choosing to change your life in the small things.
He isn't sure it works, to be completely honest.
"Daddy, can we get some baby carrots? They are my favorites ones in the whole world."
He holds his daughter's hand in his own.
"Yeah, baby, let's go get some."
He'll give it a try.
*
Shen is on his second iced coffee of the day (night?). Langdon doesn't even know how he gets them. They certainly do not serve those at the hospital cafeteria.
"Ten bucks he gets into a diabetic coma before midnight", he says to Ellis who is standing right in front of them reading the board. Shen is sitting on a rolling chair next to Langdon.
Though Ellis normally doesn't indulge Frank, tonight she laughs and shakes her head. "Yeah, Shen, do you even know how much sugar that shit has?"
Shen shrugs and slurps again, making an awful noise with the straw. "There are worse vices to have."
A beat.
"Well, that's for fucking sure."
Langdon doesn't like joking about his addiction and he doesn't like joking about his pain, but tonight, exhausted as they all are, the guffaw that escapes Ellis and the way Shen's eyes widen when he realizes what he's said make him feel warm inside. Like maybe he could get used to night shifts. Like these people do not hate him. Like he could -maybe for the first time ever- make some friends.
*
The call comes when he least expects it, as all bad things do.
He's been feeling better, these last couple weeks.
He has been willingly sharing on therapy -which is a great achievement, if he does say so himself- and he's been doing good at work he thinks. The other day Abbot complimented his technique when he did a pig-tail chest tube. (He tries not to let it go to his head, he really does. The last thing he needs is losing another mentor when he inevitably fucks up.)
So, he isn't expecting it at all when he gets a call from an unknown number on a random Tuesday evening. He is just getting to the hospital, barely five minutes out the blue line. Normally he doesn't answer numbers he does not recognize, but lately he's scared it's someone from HR or from his kid's school or something.
"Is this Frank Langdon?"
He crosses the street. A driver in a blue sedan honks at him and Frank scowls right back. "Yeah, yeah, this is he."
He wipes raindrops from his face on his shoulder. He hopes it's not raining when his shift ends. There's barely a drizzle now.
"Alright, this is Cathy from the Eastern Idaho Medical Center. Is this an appropriate time to talk?"
Frank frowns. He did apply to several hospitals, back when he didn't know if he'd be accepted back at the Pitt, back when he wasn't sure he wanted to go back. He doesn't remember applying there. "Uh, yeah, now's fine."
"I'm calling about your father, Mr. Langdon. He had a heart attack last night. I'm very sorry to say he did not make it. Your father is dead."
*
He really must have pissed of God or whoever, he gets stuck on the elevator with Shen of all people.
Shen stands beside the buttons. He tries all of them and then every possible combination, several times. They don't seem to do anything.
Langdon stares at him from his place on the floor. Very quickly he decided he should sit down and breathe deeply. Surely someone will come for them soon.
He is happy to wait quietly, but Shen seems to be allergic to silence. Just as he sits down next to Langdon, he asks, "So, what's up with your life you know?"
Langdon turns to look at him. Shen doesn't say anything. Langdon sighs, he is trying to be nicer. "Nothin' much, hanging in there."
Shen stares at him and raises his eyebrows slowly. He reaches for his chest pocket and pulls out fruit flavored gum. He takes two pieces on his hand and throws them in his mouth. Langdon shakes his head when Shen extends a piece over to him.
"Aren't you gonna ask me the same thing? How are you, John? What's up with you? You know, spill the tea. Nothing like faulty elevators for bonding activities between coworkers. It's HR's dream."
"Listen, man, I'm not trying to be rude, but I really can't. Not right now. Sorry."
He really is not trying to be a dick, but this day has been hard. He can't fucking think. He is craving and he is seeing ghosts and his head hurts and now he's fucking stuck on an elevator.
"Alright, I'll lay off." To his surprise, Shen doesn't sound offended or sad or mad. Just... well, he sounds like he usually does. Langdon must make a face because, "It's not like you are obligated to talk with me. I'm not your fucking boss."
"You're an attending."
Shen laughs. Langdon doesn't think he has ever heard him laugh before. It's all rough and low, but carefree -like it slipped out without permission.
"I mean, yeah, I'm not your senior attending though. I'm closer to you in seniority than I am to Abbot."
Frank shrugs.
They fall back into a deep silence and Frank knows that's what he wanted, that's what he asked for and still it grates on his nerves. He is suddenly aware of every place his skin is touching the metallic walls of the elevator and how his feet feel on his shoes. There's a single drop of sweat going through his back. There is a soft hum coming from somewhere. Frank breathes so he doesn't pull on his hair or start sobbing.
He breaks finally.
"My father died."
He can tell Shen has turned to look at him, but Frank doesn't turn. He keeps his gaze on the tiled floor in front of him.
"Literally, today. Like." A strangled laugh leaves his mouth. It sounds like a sob. "I got the fucking phone call on my way here. And I don't even fucking care, you know? I don't. He was an asshole. Fuckin' hated me and always made sure I knew. He wasn't a good person, let alone a good father. But isn't that sad? I don't want my kids to think like that about me when I'm gone. Like, who even thinks that, you know? I'm pretty sure it makes me an awful person. It's fucking horrible. I should, I don't know, be sad. Miss him or some shit. Not all of it could have been bad - I should be thankful. And it hurts and I don't know why."
He takes a breath. "And I swear to fucking god I have not had anything. I'm sober, alright?" He needs to make sure Shen understands. Well aware trust is not warranted, Langdon has to make sure there is no doubt. He hasn't relapsed. He goes on, "but I keep seeing him. Everywhere. I've seen him three times in the last forty minutes. Just like, out of my sight type of thing. You know? I turn to look and there's no one there."
By the end, he is panting and out of breath which makes absolutely no sense. He groans and wipes his face with his hands, pretending the moisture is sweat and not fucking tears.
A couple seconds go by and no one talks. Frank is just about to apologize because Shen didn't even ask and he has a therapist for this and what if he tells Robby or Abbot or Gloria -
"When I was a kid, my mom would make this mango dessert for me and my siblings.
"I fucking hated it. It made my mouth feel weird; it didn't sit right on my stomach. I hated it. She would get very angry whenever I would complain. She would not let me leave the table until I ate it all. So I would. I would eat it just to please her; just so she wouldn't get mad.
"Then, when I was like eight, I got some allergy tests done. Turns out I'm allergic to mangoes. I remember the exact moment the doctor told her. Her face just fell. She was very sad and, well, obviously she did not apologize, but like. I knew she regretted insisting I eat it. She never made it again. Even when my siblings asked for it.
"It made me sad. She felt horrible about it and I really wished she wouldn't, but I was glad I never had to eat it anymore. Because it was harmful. Because it hurt me. So I missed it a little, but I was glad I would never deal with it again."
At some point, Frank turned to look at Shen while he spoke. Shen is looking calm and still for once, speaking clearly. He is looking at Langdon.
"I'm not comparing your dad to mango puree. Or, actually, I guess I am. But what I mean is I think you're allowed to feel bad about your father dying and not miss him at the same time. And you are also allowed to miss him and recognize he wasn't a good father. You don't have to forgive him in order to miss him. And you missing him doesn't mean you are like him or that the way he treated you was okay. It's just complicated. As fathers normally are, I think."
The lights come back on before Frank can even think of what to say.
*
Abby's wide awake beside him, but they are both pretending they are asleep.
It's has been a while since they've had a proper conversation. Maybe even longer. They've never really pretended to be in love with each other, but he knows they loved each other once upon a time. It's a whole different type of grief he thinks. Losing his best friend.
"My father died."
Abby flinches abruptly. "What? When?"
"Week before last."
"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispers.
Frank does not answer.
"I'm in love with Yolanda."
And, yeah, Frank knew that. Yolanda knows that too, he's pretty sure. He says nothing.
The bed starts shaking in tandem with Abby's soft sobs. Frank reaches over and takes her hand, traces soft circles on the back.
He clears his throat. "What happened to us? We used to talk - tell each other these things."
A loud anguished moan escapes Abby. "It's my fault -"
Frank won't stand for it. He sits up and scoots over so he can see her. She looks beautiful, hair up in a messy bun and in her pajamas. "No, no Abby. I'm a fucking addict. It's my fault. We didn't have the perfect marriage. We - We always knew we'd have to play pretend. But I fucked it all up. Ruined your relationship with your parents, made you unhappy. I, fuck, I fucked up. And I'm so sorry for it, Abby."
Abby shakes her head and raises herself to a seat beside him. "No, Frank. It was my idea. I never should have even suggested getting married in the first place. We were never going to be happy hiding ourselves. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for asking you to help my dad move the couch. I'm afraid everything that happened, the pills, your pain. That's all on me."
"Me being an addict is not on you." He won't let his mistakes fall on her. It was easy in the beginning, to blame everyone else for his own problems. But he's been through enough he can accept that this is only on him. It was a shitty situation and he was misdiagnosed and mistreated by an incompetent doctor (who got fired, by the way), but no one forced him to steal medication. "I did that. I did that to you. To our kids."
His voice breaks and he's sobbing now too. He takes her into his arms and holds her, finding relief in her arms.
They cry until they can't anymore. Until they're sore and achy and their shirts are sticky with each other's tears.
"I need to say a few things to you, Frank. And I need you to listen to me.
"I do have some blame on our unhappiness. I should have known to stand up to my parents. I don't want to be them anymore, Frank. I want us to be happy. I need you to be happy too. We should probably get divorced, but we'll figure it out later. I don't want to fight and I sure as hell do not want to lose you. You're my best friend in the whole fucking world, yeah?"
Frank nods. He too knew a divorce was inevitable. He didn't like to think about it though. Mainly because of custody. He knows she would never take his kids away from him. But a judge might.
"I want you to be happy too. I really do. If getting a divorce will make you happy, we will do it. But... the kids -"
She switches their hands around and moves her thumb softly on the back of his hand. She smiles softly. "That was my second point. We'll figure something out, we'll still be a family, alright? A weird unconventional one, for sure. But we all love each other and we'll figure it out. I would never even think about separating us, alright?"
He nods.
"And, Frank Langdon, I need you to listen to me. You'll tell me the full story about your asshole dad in a minute, but before -and I need you to listen to me- you are not him, alright?"
A sob breaks through his mouth again and he doesn't think he can hear this. His chest tightens and nausea overwhelms him, but always she knows him. Her hand travels to his hair and she combs his hair with care.
"You're a good fucking father, Frank. You're a good husband. You're a good doctor. You're a good fucking person. You hear me? You've made mistakes, sure. We all have. We are human. But you need to allow yourself to be happy. You deserve happy things too. Your friends love you, our kids love you, I fucking love you. And we'll figure this out together."
They stay like that for what feels like hours. His sobs taper off to small hiccups after a while. He doesn't think he has ever cried like this.
"I love you, Abby. So fucking much. I'm sorry for everything."
"I love you too. Really. And I'm sorry. But I mean it, alright? We'll get through this."
"I - I don't regret it, you know? Tanner and Millie are the best thing that has ever happened to me ever. I wouldn't change our family for anything in the world."
She lays down and brings him down with her into a safe warm cocoon of sheets. "Yeah, we do have the best kids in the world, don't we?"
He hugs her tightly and leans over to kiss her cheek. "You need to tell Yoyo. She won't wait around forever."
Abby nods. "It's time."
Frank sighs and he cuddles closer to Abby. "Is this a good time to remind you you forgot my birthday this year?"
"Fuck, I'm the worst wife ever."
"Nah, I can think of at least two that are way worse than you."
Abby and the kids wake him up with pancakes in bed the next morning. As they sing to him, he looks at his beautiful family and he knows, somewhere along the way, he must have done something right.
*
Frank starts noticing things about Shen after that one time in the elevator.
He always has that stupid coffee on him.
He has a watch he always wears though he tends to check the hour on his phone, which is a bit weird to Frank but who is he to judge.
He takes his lunch in the break room. Every single shift he eats a tuna sandwich and a soda. Langdon even starts joining him sometimes.
He has a picture on his locker. Shen can't have been more than ten. He's sitting on his mother's lap, showing a big gapped tooth smile. A gaggle of siblings by their side.
He walks to work. He wears headphones while he does it, which is probably not very safe. Frank would fucking know. He listens to a weird combination of 70s jazz and Lady Gaga. Frank does not even try to understand it.
His left shoulder bothers him sometimes. It pops when he overworks it.
He is kind to patients and funny to his friends. He seems to be a mix of both to Frank.
*
Robby finds Frank in the rooftop.
Frank knows Robby too is a frequent visitor, so he tries to leave before Robby arrives.
It had worked. Until now.
Frank's hands are still shaking and he didn't even hear the door or the footsteps, but then there is Robby sitting right next beside him.
Robby's breathing deeply and pointedly not looking at Frank, which makes no fucking sense. Frank feels a rush of annoyance run through him. "If you're not going to fucking talk to me, you should at least let me be alone."
Robby doesn't react.
Frank is about to stand up and go fall apart someplace else when Robby opens his mouth. He laughs sardonically all the while he's frowning. "I'm not going to leave go alone on the rooftop, especially not when you're sitting on the wrong side of the railing."
"Now you care? I'm not going to fucking jump. Alright? Now you can leave."
Robby's face does a lot of complicated things Frank doesn't know how to interpret anymore. He takes a breath. "I've always cared." It comes out quietly. Robby frowns again and looks down over to his feet. He starts fiddling with a loose thread on his shoes.
"It didn't feel like that. Last year." Frank's sincerity surprises him.
Robby flinches. He still won't look at Langdon.
"Listen Robby, I know that what I did was wrong. I know. It's crazy to think how blinded I was. I truly thought I had it under control. I won't make excuses. I stole. I endangered patients. I compromised your ED and broke your trust.
"But I wish I could have gotten the help I needed. If I- If I wasn't so certain you would kick me out, I would have told you. I'm not making excuses. I'm sorry I'm even saying this, but I wish I could have trusted my superiors and told them there was something wrong. I knew Hagan was wrong, I knew the prescription was irresponsable, but I needed to be able to work and I couldn't afford to lose my job. I'm so fucking sorry."
An awful noise leaves Robby's mouth. When he turns around, Langdon can see his eyes are bloodshot. "I'm so sorry too, Frank. I keep thinking I should have known. You told me you hurt your back, and I did not know you were fucking hit by a car in college -which we will talk about later-, but I made fun of you. I mocked you. It doesn't surprise me you didn't think you could tell me. I can't - fuck. I expected so much from you. You're an amazing doctor. I was so happy to be working with you - I didn't realize that-"
He takes a deep breath. "When Adamson died, I knew I could never go through that again. So I made myself unavailable when I should have tried to be for you what he was to me. I failed you, Frank. And all my residents. So, yeah, you broke my trust and I'm not sure I've forgiven you for everything that happened, but I don't want to make the same mistake again."
Something happens on Frank's chest. It hurts. It feels a lot like hope.
"I would like for things to go back to the way they were."
Frank's eyes sting.
He nods. "Yeah, yeah, me too."
Unbeknownst to them, Abbot comes up with Samira in tow and they see them hugging by the railing. The bets on their possible reconciliation start that very same day.
*
"You wanna try? Even with all the sugar, it's probably better for you than those horrible energy drinks you like."
Shen is holding out his coffee over to Frank. Frank stares at him for a second.
He raises his shoulders in a shrug. What's the worst that can happen? He takes a sip.
It's too sweet. Overwhelmingly so. Frank really does not like it. He smiles. "It's alright, Shen. Not too bad."
Shen smiles, delighted. He has a small dimple on the left side of his face. It makes Frank proud to look at it when he's the one behind Shen's smile.
"I told you. I'm telling Ellis; she'll be so annoyed. Also, you should probably call me John."
*
Yolanda is home when Frank gets there.
He's exhausted, covered in sweat and he just wants a shower and to sleep forever. He pauses by the kitchen to get himself a glass of water.
Yolanda is sitting on the table. Her hair is wet. She's smiling at Millie's latest drawing on the fridge.
Langdon is surprised to see her.
"I take it you talked," he says as he reaches over and fills his glass.
She laughs smugly. "Yeah, we talked."
"Disgusting, Yoyo. That's my wife you're talking about."
He adds after a second, "I'm happy for you both. You'll be alright."
She nods and looks at him with a face he can't decipher. "You'll be alright too."
He finds himself nodding.
*
Frank is called with Shen to a patient in Room 3. They walk over in a hurry. The shift has barely just begun and they've both got too much energy. Langdon opens the curtain quickly at stops dead on his feet.
"Frank?!"
"Jonah?"
Shen stops and looks over to Langdon as if trying to read his mind, which has completely blue screened.
Shen breaks the silence. "You guys know each other?"
Again, at the same time.
"Yes."
"No."
Langdon feels his face heat up in embarrassment as Shen chuckles lightly.
He gulps. "Sorry, it's instinct."
Jonah looks older, which obviously but what Frank means is: he looks the exact same he did twenty years ago. His hair is a little shorter and he's got stubble. He's tall, maybe a bit shorter than Frank. He is wearing a suit, which feels weird on him. But, yeah, it's exactly him. Same big dark eyes.
Frank wonders if Jonah is feeling the same way. If his legs are shaky and his chest feels like it's gonna explode.
Shen laughs again. "You see an old friend and your first instinct is to lie?"
Frank doesn't know how to explain, so he doesn't even try. He still, after all this time, hasn't actually said the words out loud. He never even really told Abby. She guessed something had happened, he supposes. But that one night on the park, under moonlight and graced by the soft hum of bugs, lives only in his memory. And Jonah's. He wonders if Jonah ever told anyone.
"It's complicated." Jonah answers for him. That sums it up.
Frank smiles apologetically and nods.
Thankfully, Jonah's condition is not serious. He got into a fender bender and they want to rule out any internal bleeding. He has a small cut on his face right above his eyebrow, which doesn't need stitches, and a bigger one on his right hand, which does.
Shen keeps looking between them and Frank is scared of what he might see. "Can you take care of the stitches, Dr Langdon?"
A year ago, Frank would have complained. He would have asked for a bigger trauma, something more complicated that a couple stitches. Today, he nods and turns to look at Jonah.
"If it's okay with you, Jonah?" He has to ask.
Unsurprisingly, because Jonah has always been everything but unkind, he nods. "Sure, Frank. No one I'd rather have."
He guesses that's not true, but he says nothing.
Shen nods apparently satisfied. "Come find me when you're done, Dr Langdon." He says goodbye to Jonah and steps out the room.
Frank takes a seat on the stool next to the bed and gets to work. "Here's the local anesthetic, it will sting for a second." From the side, he can see Jonah nod. He focuses on the small forceps on his hands and maneuvers the string carefully.
They're quiet while Frank does the sutures. When he is done, he dresses the wound to avoid infection. "There we go," he says finally. "You will have a small scar, but it shouldn't be too noticeable."
Jonah laughs. "I don't mind. We'll match."
Langdon frowns and looks up confused. Maybe he is concussed. He is about to start concussion protocol, even though Shen did it not even forty minutes ago. Jonah seems to notice and laughs again - a short quiet thing. "You have a small scar on your thumb, don't you? I remember."
Frank freezes, his hand already in his pocket closed around his flashlight. He feels really little all of the sudden. Like he is back there on his father's house. Like he's sitting alone in the middle school cafeteria. Like he is writing Jonah's name on the back of a notebook.
He clears his throat, making sure his voice does not tremble when he speaks. "How do you remember that? I didn't even know you noticed."
A strange expression takes over Jonah's face. Suddenly, he looks very sad. "I noticed everything about you, Frank."
Frank lowers his gaze. He nods. "Yeah," he says. "Me too." Because he did, didn't he? He knew Jonah's favorite color and his favorite teddy bear and his favorite comic and his favorite type of bug and the way he liked his sandwiches.
Sometimes, Frank has this horrible thought that he doesn't really exist. That he went through his childhood, through his entire life like a ghost. A dead boy walking. Yolanda's voice echoes in his head. Frank doesn't want to be dead anymore.
"I'm really sorry about everything - If I could go back, I would." He has to say. He wishes he would have been braver. Maybe all of this could have been avoided in Frank was a little bit braver.
Jonah shakes his head. "I'm sorry, too. I wish we could have grown up and learned to love without that. I'm not sorry I kissed you, but I am sorry your father saw. And I'm sorry for whatever he did to you afterwards."
Frank allows himself to think about it for a second. What would have his life been like if they hadn't been caught? He wants to say that he would have liked to love Jonah without the threat of God looming over them. What comes out is: "My father is dead. Died a couple of weeks ago."
Jonah's eyebrows meet his hairline. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not sure that's what you would want to hear."
"To be honest, I'm not sure I know what -"
"Jonah, baby!" Before Frank can even finish his sentence, there's a man pulling the curtain open and running to Jonah's bedside. He reaches over and takes his hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it gently. "How are you?"
He turns, acknowledging Frank. "How is he, Doctor? Will he be okay?"
Frank smiles. He feels a lot like crying. He swallows down something heavy. "Yeah, yeah, he'll be fine."
*
"I thought I told you to call me John."
They're out in the roof, leaning over the railing.
One of the first things Frank noticed about living in the city was the lack of stars. Back home (is it still his home? after all this time? when there's nothing waiting for him there?) you could see thousands of stars every night. It used to calm Frank down, back when he was scared of the dark. It made him feel really small.
"Sorry. Force of habit, John."
John shrugs. He stumps out his cigarette with his foot. Frank gasps, "You barely even touched it. You could have given it to me instead of putting it out. Waste of money."
"Sorry." John does look a bit guilty. "I didn't think it through. It was disgusting though, I'm sorry. Don't know how you like it."
"Hey! I had some of your iced coffee! It's only fair you tried my cigarettes."
John pushes Frank gently. Frank wants to memorize his soft touch. "Yeah, but you actually liked the coffee. Smoking feels like shit."
Frank grins.
"Wait - you did like it didn't you?"
Frank laughs until his stomach cramps.
"Didn't you? You said you did!"
*
Tanner won't let his hand go.
Usually, he isn't this clingy. At least, he hasn't been for a while. He is eight years old, after all.
Frank misses the time when he was his son's favorite person in the world and was constantly looking for his hand or wrapping his arms around Frank's thigh.
Right now, Tanner is tucked in on his bed. He has his teddy bears all around him and he is clutching Frank's waist hard. Fifteen minutes ago, Frank decided Tanner wouldn't let him go so he lay down beside him. It's better for his back and he can hug his son more comfortably like this. He passes his fingers through his son's blond curls.
"Daddy?"
Tanner's voice brings back Frank from his thoughts.
"Yes, honey?"
"Can boys be princesses?" His son's voice is small and filled with sleep and with something that sounds like fear.
Frank freezes. He turns around so he can see Tanner.
"Sure they can, buddy. Boys can be anything they want."
Tanner nods, but doesn't say anything.
This feels important. Frank does not want to let it go. "Why do you ask?"
Tanner sighs. For a second, Frank doesn't think he'll answer. He makes it a point to talk about this with Abby. Maybe she knows what happened.
But then:
"We were playing at school. The boys were knights and dragons and Cindy and Emily were princesses. I asked if I could be one too, but Mason said no. He laughed at me. And I don't understand why."
For a second, Frank doesn't think his voice will come out. His vision whites out. His heart is beating really fast.
"Listen to me, Tanner." He takes his son's face with gentle fingers, and he moves it so Tanner can see him clearly. Even in the dark of the night, he can see his son's blue eyes. The night light is on. They pasted glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. "You can be anything you want? Anything at all. Mommy and I will always love you. You can be a dragon or a princess or a prince or a knight or whatever you want. There's nothing you can be that Mommy and I won't love you anymore."
Tanner is frowning like he is thinking about it. "Even if I wear dresses like Millie?"
"Yes, honey. Even if you want to wear dresses like Millie." He clears his throat. "I'll have a talk with your teacher and Mason's dad, alright? Mason should not have done that. It's not nice to laugh at other people."
Tanner nods.
"I think sometimes I like princesses."
Frank smiles at his beautiful, beautiful son. "That's great, buddy. Mommy and I love princesses too. Millie loves Elsa remember? Maybe we could watch a princess movie tomorrow. You can pick it out."
Tanner lets out a soft excited giggle. "Yeah! Maybe Cinderella."
Frank leans over and kisses his son on the forehead.
"I love you, Dad."
Frank's heart is so big it might burst. "Love you too, kiddo."
Frank stays there until his son's breaths have slowed down and he's fallen asleep.
He thinks of himself at his son's age. He thinks of a scared little kid, who lost his best friend, who would sleep with his door closed. His father never bought him a night light. He knows now it's not a kid's job to be brave.
Frank understands now.
He knows what he has to do.
That can wait, though. Tonight, on his free day, five months after he came back to work, he goes to his daughter's room. He kisses her goodnight. He goes to his own room. He hugs his wife. He takes off his wedding ring. And he goes to sleep.
*
Frank waits a while before he does it.
Part of being alive is knowing you can trust good things. Frank no longer wants to jump into things out of fear that they'll disappear. He takes his time.
He talks to John and he stares at him and he dreams. He talks to Abby and Yoyo about it, who laugh at him. Not mockingly though. They hug him and tell him they're proud.
He does talk to Mason's dad, as promised. He is a bit nervous about it, but he'll do anything for his kids. Mason's dad agrees with him and promises to talk to his son. They actually become pretty close. They take the kids fishing and camping. Mason and Tanner become best friends.
He takes Dana out for a hike, which they used to do before everything.
He smiles at Princess and Perlah, who roll their eyes at him and tell him it's nice he's back. Really back.
He keeps up with his PT and his appointments and he tells Abbot when he needs to take a break.
He talks to Dr Smith. He eats fruit. He watches Cinderella and Tangled and Moana and every princess movie under the sun.
And then, once he's nearly done with his residency, he approaches John on the roof.
John smells like amber. He has just finished his sandwich. Today, like most nights now, he brought one for Langdon.
"John?" He asks. He's not nervous, surprisingly. He thinks he maybe should be, but this feels so natural. John makes him feel safe. Langdon breathes. He feels like he's alive.
"Yeah?" John answers back. He turns off his phone and directs his full attention to Frank.
"Would you like to go to dinner with me? Sometime?"
A soft, giddy smile appears on John's face. "I thought you'd never ask."
Langdon smiles right back. "It took me a while, didn't it?"
John nods. "Sure, I'd love to have dinner with you." He hesitates. "Wait, I know you don't wear your ring anymore, but..."
Frank laughs. "It's complicated, but I swear I'm single. I'll explain everything."
John wets his lips. He studies Frank's face for a moment. Frank wonders what he's seeing.
John smiles. His dimple. Frank smiles right back.
And in a couple weeks they'll go get dinner on a nice Italian restaurant. Frank will order pasta. John will order a pizza and will surprise Frank by eating every slice.
They'll walk back to John's apartment. Halfway through they'll get caught in the rain. They'll kiss wet and cold on John's front door.
Frank will tell him everything. About Jonah and his father and growing up alone. He'll tell him about college and Abby and his wonderful beautiful kids. Eventually, he'll talk about rehab and about his back.
John will share too. He'll talk about his mom and the space left behind when his father left. He'll talk about his grandparents, who speak a tongue he barely understands. He'll mention his siblings - his best friends. He'll talk about med school and feeling lonely.
Eventually, they'll figure their shit out and make their relationship official. They'll grow to know each other's body perfectly; what gives them pleasure, but also their small moles and tiny scars. Once, Shen will ask him about the one on his thumb and Frank will tell him it matches Jonah's.
John will meet the kids and they'll completely adore him. They call him Uncle Shen, which Yoyo thinks is absolutely hilarious.
In years to come, they'll get married and they'll think about adopting. John will be there for Frank on his bad nights and he'll drive him to rehab when he relapses. Frank will get better. John breaks his leg out on a hike and Frank will be there for him too.
They'll live out the rest of their lives happy. Through every hurdle and tragedy, they'll gave each other to hold.
The future that seemed impossible to Frank, the one he was certain he could never deserve, will be his.
All that's for later, though. Tonight, under the small amount of starts visible in Pittsburgh city, John reaches over for Frank's hand. Frank interlocks their fingers and holds on tight.
And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned to a pillar of salt. So it goes. People aren't supposed to look back. I'm certainly not going to do it anymore.
I've finished my war book now. The next one I write is going to be fun.
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut