him terrible names. After hanging up to a particularly bad reaction, he winced. Flopping on the bed, Ross stared at the blank screen on the phone. “I guess it’s karma, huh? I deserve that. Guess I need to fully feel that.”
“Mean responses? Yes, that sucks.”
He smiled without looking up to her. “Mean responses. That about sums it up, I guess.”
She sat beside him and slipped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his arm. “You aren’t mean, Ross. Not anymore. You’re doing the right thing. Even if it’s hard. That’s what makes you a better person than many others. Because you’re willing to do the hard thing.”
He rested his chin on her head and stayed like that for several moments. With a heavy sigh, he straightened up, and began looking down the list of numbers. Some of the women were caring and decent when they were informed. They said they were sorry to hear about him and promised to get tested. A few even promised to let him know their results. Those reactions shored him up.
Finally, after three hours of phone calls, he dropped down on the bed, physically wilting. Some of that time was spent scouring the internet for phone numbers and several dead leads. He wasted no time or energy on those he couldn’t find with no idea of their last names or even the towns where they lived.
Fulfilling his obligations insulated him from contemplating the things he learned from the doctor. His own journey and life were in his hands. He flopped back on the bed and covered his face.
“I’ve done some shitty pranks over the years in this town. I spray-painted the old water tower, broke into the sheriff’s car and moved it, caused lots of trouble with my friends, and I was known for being a womanizer and a jerk. After this gets around, people will say that karma caught up with me. Maybe I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I feel humiliated. HIV positive. I bet they’ll say things like, who didn’t see that coming!?”
“No one should judge anyone else’s life. No matter what happened during their youth. HIV is a virus. A human disease. Not a stigma. Not a punishment. Okay? This is about health, not morality. Got that?”
He blinked and started to smile. “You always say the right thing. I can’t imagine the dark place I’d be without you here.” His voice wavered.
“I’m glad I’m here too.”
He sprang to his feet. “Should I… do you think I should tell my parents?”
“Yes. You should try to at least.”
He nodded and asked, “When?”
She shrugged. “How about now?”
He swallowed, “Now?” and shuddered. “Do I just call them?”
“Unless you prefer to see them?”
“I don’t think I’d be welcome in their house.”
Her heart clenched for him. That statement was sad, and his voice was so small, it sounded boyish. “Okay, then call them,” she decided for him.
He pushed the covers back and sat up against the headboard. “Put it on speaker so I can hear what they say,” Jody added.
He stared for a long time at his phone before he finally called them.
“Mom?” Hearing Ross’s hesitant, wavering, crackling tone made Jody’s heart slam with anxiety into her chest. She could hear the hope in his tone.
“What do you want?”
“I—I have something to tell you and Dad. Something you might want to know.”
“Like what?”
Ross floored Jody when he didn’t give the true reason for his call. “I had a job offer in Seattle. I played drums with a famous band called Zenith. And another band…” His pleading voice drifted off and Jody knew he was still seeking their approval. That about did her in. She wanted to grab his face and kiss him senseless, anything to convince him he was worthy of acceptance, and love and approval, if not from them, then definitely from her.
“So?”
The one word of sheer apathy. So that’s where Ross learned it. God, she was heartless. It made Jody’s skin crawl with rage. Ross wilted and leaned forward. “So… I tested positive for HIV too.”
A long pause of silence. “Well, what did you expect? After your atrocious, irresponsible behavior all those years.”
“Not much,” Ross replied softly before clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll let you go.”
“Ross?” Hearing his name from his mother’s lips made Ross curious. His finger hovered above the end button and he blinked in surprise. As if his phone were speaking to him instead of his mother.
“Yeah, Mom?” The hope, the need, and the desire for her to care, at the