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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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 sameâthousands 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 frustratingâdoubly so since heâd 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. Thatâs 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?
Daveâs head popped into the room. âAbout ready for dinner? Marissa should be here in about five minutes.â
Marcos hurriedly switched screens, hoping his husband hadnât seen what was on his monitor. Dave had a habit of popping into the office unannounced. Why wouldnât he?
They owned the place together, after all.
âJust wrapping up. Be there in a minute.â He blew his husband a kiss.
âMake sure itâs a real minute, and not one of those half-hour ones you like to take.â Dave leaned over and kissed his forehead.
A heavenly smell wafted in through the open door behind him.
Marcos sighed. Even if he couldnât find other work right away, theyâd 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 didnât 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 parentsâ front door. Pop and Dadâaka Marcos and Daveâhad taken her in when sheâd had no one else, and ever since, sheâd been like a daughter to them.
It was a work night, and sheâd 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 Daveâs voice had made her say yes.
The door swung open, and Marcos swept her up into his arms. âWelcome home!â
She laughed. âWhatâs⌠whatever this is⌠for?â
âCanât I greet my prodigal daughter when she returns home from the hinterlands?â He let her go and gestured for her to come inside.
She scrunched up her nose in delight, and kissed his cheek. âOf course you can. Youâre just not usually so enthusiastic. Whereâs Dad?â
âYour favorite gay father is in the kitchen. Where else?â He winked at her.
âIs that calabacitas?â Her mouth began to water as she followed himâand the scentâinto the kitchen. As long as sheâd known him, heâd lived in the same condo.
âOf course it is.â Dave set down his wooden spoon just long enough to hug her. He was dressed in his David apron, complete with stone micro penis. âThank you for coming on such short notice. Grab a seat there next to Marcos. This is just about ready.â
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. âSo thrilled you are here.â
How many hours had she spent at this very table, doing homework, both at McClatchy High and later as sheâd 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.
âHere we are.â 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. âSimple, I know, but I hope you like it.â
She grabbed a tortilla and dipped it into the soup. One bite, and savory warmth spread through her. âThis is delicious. Can I get you to come out to my place every night to cook?â
Dave snorted. âYou couldnât afford me.â
âNow we know what it takes to get our daughter to come visit us.â Marcos laughed and elbowed Dave, who smiled, but slowly.
Somethingâs up. The invitation, the dinner, the strange looksâŚ
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.
Marcosâs eyes met hers. Heâd noticed it too. âSpill it.â
Dave blinked. âWhat?â
âYou asked Marissa to come over. You made a special dinner. Now youâre barely eating it. Itâs like weâre walking on eggshells with you today. Somethingâs on your mind. So spill it.â Marcosâs eyes narrowed.
Dave put down his spoon with a sigh. âI was hoping to have a nice dinner with you before I told youââ
âAre you dying?â Marissa didnât mean to blurt it out, but her friend Tessaâs mother had told her family she had inoperable cancer, at a family dinner just like this one.
âWhat? No, of course not.â Dave reached out to squeeze her hand with his free one.
âThen what?â She stared at him.
Dave sat back, resting his hands on his belly, and sighed. âThe doctors told me that I have wet AMD.â
#
âI have wet AMD.â There. Heâd finally said it. It felt good to let it out into the open.
âWet ADHD?â Marissa asked, at the same time that Marcos said âWet Andy?â They both looked at him quizzically.
He laughed in spite of himself. ââWet Age-related macular degeneration.â It basically means my eyesight is getting worse fast.â 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.
âAre you⌠okay?â Marcos took his hand. âHow long have you known?â
Am I? How did you deal with a diagnosis of eventual blindness? âOfficially? Just a couple daysâsince Monday. Iâm sorry I didnât say anything. I didnât want you to worry.â He squeezed Marcosâs hand in reassurance. âUnofficially? I noticed my vision started getting blurrier a couple months back. Even my glasses didnât seem to help all that much. At first, I thought it was just lack of sleep.â
Marissa was staring at him intently. âAre you going blind?â
He forced a smile. It was the typically blunt kind of question she often asked.
âYes. But there are treatments. The blood vessels at the back of my eyes have gotten a little leaky, thatâs all. Theyâre giving me a monthly shot to help slow down my vision loss.â
âSo how do we fix it?â That was so Marcos, jumping straight to the solution.
Dave shook his head. âWe donât. Itâs not reversible. All they can do is slow it down.â As he said it, it truly hit him for the first time. Iâm 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 spiderâs web. No more Marcos or Marissa. He squeezed his husbandâs hand tightly.
They sat together in silence for a moment. Then Marissa got up and threw her arms around him. âIâm sorry, Daddy.â
He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her arms and spirit. I can get through this. âIâm a lucky guy, to have you two.â
Marcos leaned forward and kissed him. âThank you for telling us. I noticed that you seemed worried these last few weeks. I just thought⌠Iâm sorry I didnât say something.â
Marissa let him go and settled back into her chair.
He had one more secret to tell. âItâs all right. Youâve had your hands busy with your job search.â Heâd been saving that one for weeks.
Marcosâs jaw almost hit the table. âWhat⌠you knew?â
Dave nodded. âYouâre not exactly a world-class spy, you know. You left your browser window open last week. Besides, itâs not exactly a secret that we canât keep doing this website thing forever.â He took Marcosâs hands in his again and held them tight. âWeâll figure it all out, together.â
Marissa snorted. âYou two are such a mess. I donât know why I ever thought that gay couples had it more together than the rest of usâŚâ
Dave laughed. It felt good to let it all out. âNo, we most decidedly do not.â He looked down at their cold meals. âLet me run those through the microwave. That is, if yâall are still hungry?â He needed a little normal, while he could still have it.
He was greeted with two enthusiastic yesses.
< Read Chapter 25 |Â Read Chapter 27 >
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.