1 Chapter 1

He poured coffee in his favorite cup. The embossed valentine hearts, some pink, some red, met his double grip against the smooth ceramic surface. The familiar aroma warmed his nose. He sipped. It washed away the taste of morning. Lockdown, six weeks in.

Now that he had his coffee, he could start the rest of his routine and maybe do something about that hair sticking up in all directions, but he didn’t. No reason. Why bother? Not going anywhere.

He picked up the remote for the little TV on the kitchen counter and pressed. Nothing happened. He clicked it again with no result and dropped it with a clunk where he’d found it by the dirty dishes. His hand reached out to the screen and touched a button beneath it, which flashed the news. First mistake of the day. He turned it off.

His therapist had told him once, when he was still going, that denial was a coping mechanism which served a purpose to a certain point. After that, it often resulted in bad decisions. So, his eyes were wide open when he dwelled on the thought. He would go out and find someone to sneeze on him. At least this way, he could get it over with.

He sipped the last drop of coffee and caressed the cup. If it wasn’t for Michael, he would do it, go out and have some fun, but he couldn’t. If he were to see Michael again, he had to take care of himself and hoped to someday use that credit on the canceled flight.

Distancing with Michael was nothing new, even before the word took on its medical meaning. It broke both their hearts when Michael had to leave, but there was nothing they could do when he lost his job. He had to take a new one. Too bad it was so far.

The cup raised to lips that kissed a heart before he put it down by the remote. He wanted to call Michael then, but it was too early, time zones away in LA, where Michael lived with his sister now while getting back on his feet. She had no room for the Brooklyn boyfriend, whose California resumes remained unanswered.

Without Michael, the apartment in Brooklyn seemed empty. Getting a roommate was going to help with the expense. So complicated, though, with everything going on. It might require daily grooming or wearing pants. He put it off. No one paid rent anymore anyway.

He had to pull himself together. Things had to change. He decided to take a shower. Maybe that would help.

* * * *

He logged on at the computer. Graphs tracked his progress. Fingers rattled the keyboard. His work was off the charts. Medical coding and billing couldn’t be more essential for the hospital.

He did most of it online now, and it was a good thing. He worried about his friends who couldn’t work from home. The doctors and the nurses faced infection every day, not to mention the emotional toll of losing so many patients. When Gladys died, it was devastating. He’d known her since school, where they made each other laugh in class. She was so brave and too young. It wasn’t supposed to happen at their age. He considered his mortality, no longer invincible after all.

Something was missing on the screen. He needed the form and added it to the list, which grew longer. It meant another trip to the office. He dreaded it. Even with a system purportedly paperless, there was always paper. The hospital promised an imaging system, but it never materialized. Now it never would, scanning documents not a high priority during a pandemic.

The box from the last trip sat in the corner next to his rubber gloves. He wondered whether he should cover it with something, maybe a plastic garbage bag. It probably didn’t matter at this point. He’d already handled every piece of paper in the box. Who knew where they’d been, probably in the Covid unit? The documents weren’t supposed to leave the hospital normally, but his boss made an exception to the rule so the office staff needn’t risk exposure in the halls.

Before he brought the box home, he signed it out and vouched that each page matched the list by patient name and document number. When it was time to return the box, the records supervisor, his boss, would check the list again. While in transit, no one besides the hospital employee must see the records, not that anyone would want to view them anyway, even if they could. Artifacts of sickness and death, they depressed him.

The alarm went off. He didn’t need it but had set it as a precaution. He liked to call first, but before he could do it, the phone rang. Michael’s face popped up on the screen.