The Coffee Shop Pt. 05

Andy arrived in my hospital room and about 1:30 in the afternoon looking as handsome and sexy as ever. For those of you who are interested, he was wearing a pale blue short-sleeved golf shirt which was very snug across his manly chest. That shirt was tucked into a pair of snug bordering on tight, dark blue jeans. Damn that man was sexy. The smile on his face was so warm and happy a part of me found it difficult to believe that it was because of me. Don't get me wrong. I knew Andy loved me I just had a hard time accepting that he could think I was so wonderful. I didn't see myself that way, and I had a hard time understanding that Andy could see me that way. No it wasn't that I had a hard time understanding it, I just had to keep getting used to the idea.

"Hey Texas," Andy said with a smile. "I brought you your iPod help you pass the time. It's all charged up."

"Thank you dear heart," I said. "Looks like I'll be out of here in a few days with any luck.. I hope I can make the charge last long."

"Well before you start rocking to your country and western tunes, we need to talk," Andy said letting the smile on his face fade away.

"Okay," I said softly. Andy had something on his mind that was certain.

"Your doctor and I talked about this and we decided that it would be best if I told you," Andy said hesitantly. He took a deep breath and then started speaking quickly and clearly, trying to get the words out as if speaking them as painful. "Paul, you were in a coma for three weeks, and you were not responsive. The doctors were concerned that you might not come out of the coma at all. They were afraid that they might have lost you, that you might have suffered brain damage in the beating. Paul, I was scared to death that I'd lost you. I was scared that I'd never have another chance to tell you how much I love you," Andy's voice cracked and he started to sob cutting off any other words he might've wanted to say.

"It's okay dear heart. I know you love me," I said to Andy in a vain attempt to comfort him.


"No, it's not okay Texas, " Andy said angrily a few seconds later. "I've wasted too much precious time. We both wasted too much precious time. Here, listen to this song. It says what I've wanted to tell you for a very long time." With that he placed the earbuds in my ears men and then pressed play on the iPod. A few seconds later I was treated to Paul Brandt singing a song entitled "I Meant To Do That". The words alone don't do the song justice. In the past, whenever I listened to this song, I'd always get a tear in my eye. But now, listening to the song, and knowing this was what Andy wanted to say to me, the tears were flowing down my face freely. I wasn't sobbing. I was just crying, my throat too tight for any words to squeak out. (Sorry, dear reader, but you'll have to look up the words to this song as well.)

When the song was over, I pressed pause on the iPod. I reached up and pulled the earbuds out of my ears. I looked at Andy. I didn't know what to say. I blinked the last few tears in my eyes but that didn't seem to get rid of them. I groped for a tissue on the stand next to my bed and managed to snag one with my left hand. I blotted the tears out of my eyes and gave my nose a great big blow. I regained my composure and looked over at Andy.

"You are the love of my life my dear sweet Texas. You are my life. I will never let a day go by that I don't remind you and tell you how much I love you. I know now that we don't have all the time in the world, and we have to appreciate each and every day for the gift that it is," Andy said softly. He looked at me with a sad gentle smile.

"I always knew you cared about me and you loved me dear heart," I replied. "It's sad that it took something like this to wake us both up and shake us out of our compliancy. I think we were both taking each other for granted."

"Yes, we were," Andy agreed. "I've done something that I should have done a long time ago, and I'm not sure that you're going to happy about it."

"What do you mean?" I asked confused. I was really happy that Andy was spending time with me, but I didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"I spent every possible minute that I could next to you while you were in that coma. I didn't sneak in to see you after visiting hours. I raised a royal ruckus to be able to sleep in the bed next to you in your hospital room. Paul, a lot of people now know that you are my significant other. My love for you forced me to face the truth. I had to come out of the closet to some of the people at work, such as my watch commander. It was the only way I could get the extra time off from work when we didn't know if you were going to get better. I also had to come out to some of the members of my family. I got tired of lying to them and making up excuses. It was easier to admit the truth to them, and then let them figure out how to deal with it, " Andy said in a calm controlled voice.

"Oh dear lord!" I cried out as the impact of what Andy had done hit me full force. "I never wanted you to do that! I wanted you to come out when you were ready, not be forced into it! I wanted it to be your choice! "

"But don't you see Texas? It was my choice. I made a decision. I decided that my love for you is more important then what anybody else thinks about you, me or our relationship," Andy said calmly as he reached out and held my right hand.

I stared at Andy silently, desperately trying to understand what he had done. It didn't take long for me to comprehend that I was out of the closet now too.

"Now I have to ask your forgiveness Paul," Andy said softly, as he read the expression on my face. "In openly declaring my attachment to you not only did I come out of the closet but I forced you out as well. That was not my decision to make."


It was almost like he was reading my mind. I looked at Andy and part of me was angry with him. I clamped my lips closed fearful than anything I said would be out of anger and that I would come to regret it later. I knew I had a quick temper and many times in the past I let it get the better of me. I silently promised myself that this wasn't going to be one of those times.

"I'll let you think about what has happened. I'll be back in half an hour and we can talk more," Andy said as he reluctantly let go of my hand, got up and headed towards the door.

I let him go. I had much to think about. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, as I attempted to calm myself. Anger, however justified it felt, wasn't going to help me. After about five minutes I felt centered and calm and ready to give serious and careful thought to what Andy he just told me. I understood what he had done and why. If I had been in his position in all honesty I probably would've done the same thing. He thought he was going to lose me and he wanted to spend every last minute that he possibly could with me, and to hell with the consequences. What had been done could not be undone. We would both have to adjust our lives, our relationship, and handle things as best we could. Andy's repercussions would probably be more severe than mine, after all he was an RCMP Constable. He might lose all his macho police brothers. If so, then he would need me more than ever. My anger would fade with time.

As I thought about a bit more I suddenly came to understand that this was the next logical step in the progression of our relationship. If we were going to be honest with ourselves and about ourselves this had to have happened eventually. It would have been nicer if we could have chosen the when and where, but sometimes Fate steps in and does her own thing. When life hands you lemons you make lemonade. This was actually going to turn out to be a good thing for me and for Andy.

Just as I came to that conclusion Andy walked into the hospital room. I smiled at him and gestured to him to sit on the chair next to my bed. "I forgive you for what you did, Andy. I understand what you did, and why you did it, dear heart," I told him. "I am very proud of you. You found the courage within yourself to be yourself, to be honest about who and what you are. You did all that because you love me. How could I not love you? How could I not be proud of you? How can I do anything but be thankful that dear Lord sent you to me, and granted me the gift of having you in my life?"

"And the consequences to you and to me, from what I've done?" Andy asked as he held my hands and kissed them gently in gratitude.

"We will face them together. It won't be easy, but I know it will be worth it. Whatever they are, we will face them and overcome them together. This had to happen sooner or later, you know. If we wanted our relationship to mature and grow, we would have had to come out to our families and our friends, and maybe even our co-workers. You just took our relationship to the next level. Now kiss me, you big dope," I said with a smile.

Andy was only too happy to plant several big wet ones on my eager lips. We spent the rest of that Saturday talking about various things such as when I'd be returning home and when I'd be back at work. It all depended on how quickly I completed my recovery. We would just have to wait and see how things went. The past few days had been a roller coaster emotionally. We'd been up, down and all around it seemed, as we tried to deal with what had happened to me. Andy asked me a lot of questions about what I remembered, and although I did my best to answer them, I wasn't able to provide much information. The doctors assured us that given time I would most likely remember more details, but that it would take time and it could not be rushed. Andy grumbled about that as he wanted to take some decisive action to find the persons responsible for my assault. (Hey, I wanted to contact them as well, and it wasn't to thank them. But I just didn't recall much about that night.)


I wasn't looking forward to returning to work. It was going to be kind of embarrassing explaining that I'd missed over a month of work because I was beat up. Hopefully, the details would not come out. I was going to be lonely over the next few days because Andy had go back to work, and wouldn't be able to drop by to visit. He was my only regular visitor. At least I had my iPod to help me pass the time.

When Andy left at the end of visiting hours, I wished him well and told him to get a good night's sleep. I would have no trouble sleeping, as I was still being given medication for pain and sleeping aids. As sleep overtook me, I welcomed the temporary escape it offered from my pain racked sore body. My last thought as I drifted off, was that if I ever found out who was responsible for putting me in the hospital, I would make whomever it was pay, in spades.

Sunday and then Monday came and went without much noticeable improvement in my condition. I still had to be helped up and about to make it to the bathroom. I was frustrated with myself and my body. I wanted to be out of the hospital as soon as possible. I don't enjoy being in hospitals at all. I grumbled through the days. The music from my iPod helped to pass the time. It also helped me deal with the occasional flashes of memory that popped into my head throughout the days as I started to remember what had happened to me. I dreaded talking to the police about it, but I knew I would have to eventually.

Tuesday afternoon, Andy walked into my room unannounced. I started to smile at him in welcome, but the smile died on my face as he was followed by another RCMP constable. Both men were wearing the RCMP work uniform that consisted of navy pants with the yellow stripe down the outside seam of each leg, along with long sleeved medium blue uniform shirts with button flap chest pockets. Thick wide black leather gun belts encircled their waists, with the usual assortment of police equipment spread out along the belts. I noticed that they were both wearing black shoes, and had the blue RCMP cap with the wide yellow band sitting upon their heads. From the cool almost detached look on their faces, I could conclude that this was not a social call.

"Mr. Walton, I'm Constable Anderson and this is Constable Livingstone. If you are feeling up to it, we would like to interview you concerning your assault, " Andy said in a stiff and formal voice.

"Of course Constable Anderson. I am pleased to meet you and Constable Livingstone. I hope I can be of some help to you," I answered warmly.

"Since you are acquainted with Constable Anderson, I will be asking the question from this point onward. It is important to have an objective person doing the interview. Constable Anderson insisted on being present for reasons of his own," Constable Livingstone said in a cool voice. Perhaps I was being overly sensitive and reading too much into it, but I could swear that I detected a hint of disapproval in Constable Livingstone's tone.

"Would it be helpful if Constable Anderson left the room?" I asked.

"No that is not necessary. I merely wanted you to understand that Constable Anderson is not taking part in this interview in any official capacity. He is here at his own request. He was rather insistent about it," Constable Livingstone answered.

"I see. Please continue," I said.

"In your own words, describe the events that lead up to your assault by persons unknown," Constable Livingstone said.


"Well, let me see. That Friday, three weeks ago, I received a telephone message at work, asking me to meet someone at the Copper Kettle restaurant at 7 PM," I began.

"That would have been four weeks ago, Mr. Walton," Constable Livingstone said to me in that same cool professional tone of voice. "I can understand that you might not be sure of which week it was, since you are still recovering from the coma you have been in for three weeks. Please continue."

"Thank you, Constable Livingstone," I said coolly. "The message also asked me to look for a surprise in the alleyway beside the restaurant."

"Didn't that strike you as rather odd, Mr. Walton? Why would you agree to such a strange meeting place?" Constable Livingstone asked.

"The message was supposedly from a Mister Andrew Anderson, a man that I trust. At the time I had no reason to doubt that the message was genuine. I trust Mister Anderson. He is a personal friend."

"I presume that Mister Andrew Anderson refers to Constable Anderson who is here in this room with us?" Constable Livingstone asked.

"Yes, that is correct," I answered. There was no harm in admitting that truth to Constable Livingstone. The details of our relationship were none of his business, although since Andy had come out at work, I suspect Constable Livingstone knew that Andy and I were involved.

"I see, Please continue," Constable Livingstone said.

"I arrived at the Copper Kettle at just before 7 P.M. I looked around for Mister Anderson, and when I didn't see him I walked down the alleyway looking for him. When I got about half way down the alleyway, I was jumped from behind. Two men grabbed me by the arms and held me tight. Another man walked up to me and said he had a message for me. The message was 'Stay away from Andrew Anderson, from now on.' At that point the man in front of me punched me in the gut causing me to double over. The rest of the encounter was an endless rain of punches and kicks all over my body. I remember being held up, swaying on my feet and the man in front of me punched my face repeatedly. I recall hearing many derogatory remarks." My voice was calm as I spoke but my body was shaking with the remembered fear of that encounter. I looked over at Andy. He had a look of pure cold anger plastered on his face. For the first time, I felt a chill of fear looking at him, even though I knew his anger was not directed at me. "I don't recall phoning for help, but somehow an emergency response team arrived. I vaguely recall being lifted into an ambulance."

"According to the 911 staff, someone called 911 and reported an injured person in the alleyway. They asked for an ambulance. When the police and paramedics arrived, they found you in a pool of blood and your cell phone was still in your pants pocket. We took your cell phone as evidence and we are still examining it. The call was made from a disposable cell phone," Constable Livingstone informed me. "Do you recall any details about what these men looked like? Do you remember what they said to you?"


"They were physically fit, and about six feet tall. They were wearing Halloween masks, skull faces I believe. It was dark in the alleyway, so I'm not sure what colour hair they had other than it was cut very short, a buzz cut I think in the term. As for what they said, it was something along the lines of 'Keep your faggot hands off Anderson. RCMP constables are not for fags. You should burn in hell for touching a Mountie. Consider yourself lucky, fag, we could have done much worse to you.'" I did my best to keep my voice steady and my emotions calm. Giving into the remembered fear of the encounter would make telling what happened all the more difficult.

"You seem to recall the incident remarkably well, Mister Walton," Contestable Livingstone commented.

"They made an impression on me. They were very successful in delivering their message," I retorted. "Over the past week or so I've had a lot of flashbacks and the pieces of the jigsaw have fallen into place, more or less."

"I see. Not the most friendly of persons, it would seem. Do you have any idea who might of done this to you or why?" Constable Livingstone asked.

"I have no idea who would have done this to me. As for the why, I can take an educated guess," I answered slowly.

"And your guess would be?" Constable Livingstone prompted me. He seemed genuinely interested in my option, although he remained detached and aloof. I guessed that he was doing his best to remain objective, regarding of his personal feelings about the matter. I suppose that's considered the sign of a good investigator.

"Someone who is intolerant of gay people and wanted to end my relationship with Constable Anderson," I answered bluntly. "In my opinion, I am on the receiving end of a gay hate crime. I was assaulted for no other reason. If you will check with the staff at the Copper Kettle you will find out that I stopped in there first to check if there was a reservation in my name or in Mister Anderson's name, and that I chatted with the staff for a few minutes before I went out the alleyway. There was no argument or disagreement with me or anyone else at the Copper Kettle before I went out to the alleyway."

"You're most likely correct," Constable Livingstone said. "We will proceed with our investigation and let you know the results. We will be contacting you again." His voice did not suggest that the investigation would be successful.

"Is there anything more, Constable?" I asked calmly.

"Not at this time. However, if you do recall any further details please contact me," Constable Livingstone said as he handed me a card.

"Thank you. Constable Anderson would you mind staying behind for a few minutes?" I asked as the two men turned about and got ready to leave the room.

"I'll wait outside the door, then," Constable Livingstone said as he walked over to the door and opened it. "Don't be long," he called to Andy as he walked through the doorway, closing the door behind him. Andy and I were alone.

I looked at Andy. His face was still plastered with rage. He was doing his best not to lose his temper but I could see it was a struggle. I looked at him and tried to think of what I could say to him.

"I am getting better, Andy," I said to him, in an attempt to start a conversation.