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Serial: Down the River – Chapter Twenty-Six

I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!

Today, Dave comes clean about his diagnosis with Marcos and Marissa…

< Read Chapter 25 | Read Chapter 27 >

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Down the River Header

Chapter Twenty-Six
Wet ADHD

Marcos stared at the screen, scrolling through line after line after line of job postings. His eyes actually hurt.

All these big job sites were the same—thousands upon thousands of job listings, and exactly none of them right for him. On top of that, there was no way to filter them properly. No matter what he tried to do, they kept showing him jobs for doctors and lawyers and architects, even though he was a web designer and sometime-programmer.

It was frustrating—doubly so since he’d kept from Dave just how bad things had gotten with their own business. Clients were dropping like flies, as Big Search Engine and Generative AI finished eating what was once the world wide web, spitting out its dead and rotting carcass.

Marcos chuckled, shaking his head. That’s grim, even for you.

Still, it was true. Web traffic was down for almost everyone, as search engines switched over to AI summaries that provided all the information (and a fair share of virtual hallucinations) without ever sending the user to the website where it came from.

Who did they think was going to maintain all those directories and info sites, once they drove everyone else out of business?

Dave’s head popped into the room. “About ready for dinner? Marissa should be here in about five minutes.”

Marcos hurriedly switched screens, hoping his husband hadn’t seen what was on his monitor. Dave had a habit of popping into the office unannounced. Why wouldn’t he?

They owned the place together, after all.

“Just wrapping up. Be there in a minute.” He blew his husband a kiss.

“Make sure it’s a real minute, and not one of those half-hour ones you like to take.” Dave leaned over and kissed his forehead.

A heavenly smell wafted in through the open door behind him.

Marcos sighed. Even if he couldn’t find other work right away, they’d be okay for a while. They had some money in the bank, and he could probably pick up some odds and ends to generate a little income. But if he didn’t find a real job soon, one with benefits… the cost of the whole health care thing had almost killed them, even with Obama Care.

And if the election went the wrong way… he shuddered.

Pushing down his fear, he switched back to the jobs page and closed it, and deleted his search history. Then he went to find his husband and the source of that delicious aroma.

#

Marissa knocked at her parents’ front door. Pop and Dad—aka Marcos and Dave—had taken her in when she’d had no one else, and ever since, she’d been like a daughter to them.

It was a work night, and she’d just as soon have stayed home to veg in front of her laptop, watching a movie virtually with a couple old friends. But something in Dave’s voice had made her say yes.

The door swung open, and Marcos swept her up into his arms. “Welcome home!”

She laughed. “What’s… whatever this is… for?”

“Can’t I greet my prodigal daughter when she returns home from the hinterlands?” He let her go and gestured for her to come inside.

She scrunched up her nose in delight, and kissed his cheek. “Of course you can. You’re just not usually so enthusiastic. Where’s Dad?”

“Your favorite gay father is in the kitchen. Where else?” He winked at her.

“Is that calabacitas?” Her mouth began to water as she followed him—and the scent—into the kitchen. As long as she’d known him, he’d lived in the same condo.

“Of course it is.” Dave set down his wooden spoon just long enough to hug her. He was dressed in his David apron, complete with stone micro penis. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Grab a seat there next to Marcos. This is just about ready.”

She did as she was told, sinking down into the comfortable chairs, their royal blue cushions only slightly faded with age.

Marcos sat beside her, putting a hand on her forearm. “So thrilled you are here.”

How many hours had she spent at this very table, doing homework, both at McClatchy High and later as she’d attended American River College before going to Sac State?

Her index finger traced the lightning-shaped scratch in the dark finish that had been her long-time companion during those endless nights.

“Here we are.” Dave ladled some of the hearty soup into their bowls. With the pot safely stashed back on the stove, he plopped down a basket filled to almost overflowing with warm flour tortillas. “Simple, I know, but I hope you like it.”

She grabbed a tortilla and dipped it into the soup. One bite, and savory warmth spread through her. “This is delicious. Can I get you to come out to my place every night to cook?”

Dave snorted. “You couldn’t afford me.”

“Now we know what it takes to get our daughter to come visit us.” Marcos laughed and elbowed Dave, who smiled, but slowly.

Something’s up. The invitation, the dinner, the strange looks…

She filled the rest of the tortilla with zucchini, onions, bell peppers, and cheese, holding it carefully over the bowl so any extra broth would drain back into it. All the while, she watched her Dad.

He was eating, but slowly, almost reluctantly. Every now and then, something tugged at the right side of his lip. He seemed lost in thought. 

Dave had always been a bit introspective, but this felt… different.

Marcos’s eyes met hers. He’d noticed it too. “Spill it.”

Dave blinked. “What?”

“You asked Marissa to come over. You made a special dinner. Now you’re barely eating it. It’s like we’re walking on eggshells with you today. Something’s on your mind. So spill it.” Marcos’s eyes narrowed.

Dave put down his spoon with a sigh. “I was hoping to have a nice dinner with you before I told you—”

“Are you dying?” Marissa didn’t mean to blurt it out, but her friend Tessa’s mother had told her family she had inoperable cancer, at a family dinner just like this one.

“What? No, of course not.” Dave reached out to squeeze her hand with his free one.

“Then what?” She stared at him.

Dave sat back, resting his hands on his belly, and sighed. “The doctors told me that I have wet AMD.”

#

“I have wet AMD.” There. He’d finally said it. It felt good to let it out into the open.

“Wet ADHD?” Marissa asked, at the same time that Marcos said “Wet Andy?” They both looked at him quizzically.

He laughed in spite of himself. “’Wet Age-related macular degeneration.’ It basically means my eyesight is getting worse fast.” His secret had been eating at him for months, along with worries about the upcoming election and what it might mean for his family. At least this was one issue he could do something about.

“Are you… okay?” Marcos took his hand. “How long have you known?”

Am I? How did you deal with a diagnosis of eventual blindness? “Officially? Just a couple days—since Monday. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you to worry.” He squeezed Marcos’s hand in reassurance. “Unofficially? I noticed my vision started getting blurrier a couple months back. Even my glasses didn’t seem to help all that much. At first, I thought it was just lack of sleep.”

Marissa was staring at him intently. “Are you going blind?”

He forced a smile. It was the typically blunt kind of question she often asked.

“Yes. But there are treatments. The blood vessels at the back of my eyes have gotten a little leaky, that’s all. They’re giving me a monthly shot to help slow down my vision loss.”

“So how do we fix it?” That was so Marcos, jumping straight to the solution.

Dave shook his head. “We don’t. It’s not reversible. All they can do is slow it down.” As he said it, it truly hit him for the first time. I’m going blind.

Never to see the sunlight sparkling over the American River. No more brightly colored flowers, puffy-white-cloud skies, drops of dew on a spider’s web. No more Marcos or Marissa. He squeezed his husband’s hand tightly.

They sat together in silence for a moment. Then Marissa got up and threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her arms and spirit. I can get through this. “I’m a lucky guy, to have you two.”

Marcos leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you for telling us. I noticed that you seemed worried these last few weeks. I just thought… I’m sorry I didn’t say something.”

Marissa let him go and settled back into her chair.

He had one more secret to tell. “It’s all right. You’ve had your hands busy with your job search.” He’d been saving that one for weeks.

Marcos’s jaw almost hit the table. “What… you knew?”

Dave nodded. “You’re not exactly a world-class spy, you know. You left your browser window open last week. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret that we can’t keep doing this website thing forever.” He took Marcos’s hands in his again and held them tight. “We’ll figure it all out, together.”

Marissa snorted. “You two are such a mess. I don’t know why I ever thought that gay couples had it more together than the rest of us…”

Dave laughed. It felt good to let it all out. “No, we most decidedly do not.” He looked down at their cold meals. “Let me run those through the microwave. That is, if y’all are still hungry?” He needed a little normal, while he could still have it.

He was greeted with two enthusiastic yesses.

< Read Chapter 25 Read Chapter 27 >


Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.

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