In Loving Memory, Frank Warren

Chapter 17: Therapy

One bright spot in his day: no waiters. It did not make up for having to see the sanctimonious bitch but at least Dean thought of him. Frank shrugged.

"Aw, Baby, it won't be that bad. Come here." Despite being fully dressed for work in a pristine white pressed dress shirt, Dean opened his arms inviting a hug.

Unable to pass up the rare offer, Frank stepped into the embrace. Drawing strength from Dean's support, he felt almost ready to face therapy. Almost.

A sweet kiss landed on his cheek before Dean bustled out the door to start a new day, leaving Frank to deal with The Therapist.

First he had to change clothes. The baggy shorts and t-shirt were fine for a therapist appointment but not to meet Dean's coworkers. Not even close. His best dress shirt, perhaps he should save it for the wedding, Frank chose his second favorite dress shirt, the one in baby blue. Mom had insisted he buy it because it brought out the blue in his eyes. It had been too long since he wore it. Frank pulled out his best suit, the one with the light gray pinstripes. It fit a little snug but that should change the longer he stuck to his new permanent diet.

Checking his appearance in the mirror, Frank swept the longer hair over his eyes out of the way. High time for a haircut. But overall not bad, even if he said so himself. The suit looked slimming, making him appear more broad shouldered than overweight. Since he had no plans of going to work or out to a nice restaurant Frank decided against wearing a tie. They tended to make him feel like he was strangling.

After filling a second travel mug with coffee, remembering coffee at the therapist's office was god-awful and burnt, he was ready. Physically he was ready. Emotionally Frank was in turmoil. It would be so easy to hang out in the park until a reasonable hour and then lie about going. The problem was he did not want to lie, not to Dean. He wanted a loving honest relationship. He wanted what his parents had.

Everything required sacrifices. Someone had given him the advice years ago. The sacrifice for having Dean a permanent fixture in his life was to diet, exercise and see a therapist. No matter how horrible therapy would be, it would be worth it to keep Dean. Because Frank had this terrible feeling if he balked on therapy it would be the one thing which could drive Dean away. Permanently.

Not up to a long walk, Frank took public transportation the whole way. It was not as horrible as he remembered. No one stared at him or gave him dirty looks. In fact other people hardly seemed to notice him at all.

One woman across the aisle from him shot him a smile. Frank checked to be sure his shirt tail was not hanging out. She chuckled, hiding her reaction behind one hand.

Flirting, he wondered. Was she flirting with him? Glancing down at himself he decided it was the suit. All men looked better in suits.

The woman left the bus first but not before giving him a little wave. She was flirting.

Wow. Frank tried to recall the last time someone other than Dean had flirted with him. Nothing came to mind. Amazing. Suits were awesome, he decided.

Once he exited the bus Frank stood in front of the inconspicuous looking white building to stare. If only people walking by knew what was inside. They would cross to the other side of the street.

Taking a deep breath and keeping an image of Dean firmly fixed in mind, Frank entered the building.

Inside cool air washed over him. The waiting area was all couches and stuffed chairs with a score of small coffee tables stacked with old magazines. A couple sat against the far wall pretending to read two year old magazines while avoiding looking at each other.