Сандра Браун - Adam's Fall

"Stop a moment, Pete." Pete did as she asked. "There's the swimming pool, Adam. Look at all those children. They're behaving very much like ordinary children do in a swimming pool. Except they're not ordinary. They're very special." Her eyes glazed with tears. "Special because it's not easy for them to even get to a pool, much less swim in one. They can't run off a diving board and jump in. They can't do a cannonball or go the length of the pool underwater."

Too emotional to say anything more, she signaled Pete forward again. When he stopped at a crosswalk, they watched and waited while a nurse wheeled her paraplegic charge across the street. The young patient was smiling at something the nurse had said.

"Take a good look at her, Adam. You are very much alike. But there are two major differences. She's smiling, not sulking. And her paralysis is permanent." Lilah spread her arms wide to encompass the entire compound. "That's right. Everybody here will stay in a wheelchair for life. And they're grateful for even that much mobility."

She furiously swiped at the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. "How dare you … how dare you behave with such unconscionable selfishness when you have an excellent chance of walking again, of living a normal life, and they don't." She shuddered. Staring Adam down, she said tightly, "Take us home, Pete."

It was a long, silent ride home.

The following morning she waited until she knew Adam had eaten breakfast and shaved before going into his room. Upon their return the evening before she had got him back into bed, then left him without a word. Though it had been a breach of professional ethics, she'd had no second thoughts about taking him to the rehab center. He had deserved the shock treatment. She shouldn't have left him alone through the night either, but she had. She had been afraid that if she touched Adam Cavanaugh at all, it would be to wrap her hands around his throat and strangle him.

Now she paused on the threshold of his bedroom, not knowing whether she would have to dodge a flying missile or not. But when he saw her, instead of hurling the coffee mug he was drinking from, he merely placed it on the nightstand. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied. "Sleep well?"

"Around three this morning I had some cramps."

"I'm sorry. You should have called me."

He shrugged. "I used the trapeze to change position. They went away."

"Were they bad?"

"Like a charley horse."

"In your calves?"

"Mostly the backs of my thighs."

"You should have taken a pain pill."

"I survived without one." He glanced down at the tent that his toes poked in the sheet. Wisely, she opted to remain silent and let him direct the conversation. After a brief silence he looked up and asked, "Why didn't you kick my butt yesterday?"

"When it was covered with decubitus ulcers? You must think I'm a monster."

One corner of his lip tilted up into a rueful smile, but his eyes were anything but jovial. "I've been acting like a real jerk."

"You won't get an argument from me."

"How'd…" He paused to clear his throat. "How'd you know about that rehabilitation center?"

"Dr Arno told me about it. He suggested that when I wasn't needed here, I might think of spending some time there. Volunteers are in short supply. They always need more than they've got."

"I've owned this house for years. I never knew that hospital was there," he said as he absently turned his eyes toward the window.

Lilah detected a bad case of melancholia coming on. Taking him to the rehab center had gotten her point across, but she didn't want to overshoot her mark. The last thing he needed to be was depressed.

"That was a pretty rotten surprise I pulled on you yesterday," she told him. "So if you'll forgive me that, I'll forgive you for acting like a jerk, okay? Besides, if you hadn't acted like a jerk I would have thought you were abnormal. All patients, particularly young, athletic men, go through that jerky stage first."

"Because they're afraid they'll never get laid again."

"First and foremost," she said, laughing.

"Fairly strong basis for concern, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly, "but you don't have to worry about that today. Today you have to worry about getting into the wheelchair by yourself."

"It'll never work," he said, shaking his head dejectedly. "I'll never be able to do that."

"Sure you will. You'll be zipping around here in no time. Luckily the builder of this house thought to install an elevator."

"How did you know about that anyway? The elevator is supposed to be a secret. Did Pete tell you?"

"No, I discovered it while I was snooping around."

"What else did you discover?"

"Your stock of brandy and your collection of porno flicks."

"Drink any brandy?"

"An inch or two."

"Good."

"Delicious."

"Watch any flicks?"

"Repugnant, revolting, and repulsive."

"That's redundant."

"But arresting and articulate alliteration."

Wincing, he booed her. "How many movies did you watch before deciding they were revolting, repulsive, and so on?"

"Four." He laughed. Defensively she said, "Well, I had to pass the time somehow. I couldn't sleep last night."

"Why?"

"Because I knew my patient was going to distract me this morning to keep from working on getting himself out of bed. I was trying to devise a means of avoiding that."

"Have any luck?"

"Obviously not."

They laughed together, and it came as a surprise to each of them what a good time they were having with the verbal sparring.

Lilah drew herself up to a more professional posture. "Guess I'll just have to be a slave driver." He groaned. "Come on now, sit up as far as you can."

"Even when I'm in the wheelchair, I won't be able to go anywhere."

"Pete's downstairs with a carpenter now. He's installing temporary ramps over all the door facings. You'll be able to move through the entire house."

"Whoopee," he said drolly.

"Do you want to do this or not?" Facing him with her hands on her hips, the beer advertisement on her T-shirt was stretched tight across her breasts.

Adam was quick to appreciate the view. "I love it when you get rowdy."

"This is nothing. You ought to see me when I get hot."

His eyes widened marginally with surprise, then narrowed a degree as he said softly, "I'd like that."

"You certainly would," she cooed, giving him a promising smile, which she hastily reversed. "But not today."

"Then you should be more careful."

"Careful?"

"I can see the outline of your nipples."

Lilah's stomach did a series of flip-flops, but she tried to appear unaffected. "Would looking at them help get you out of bed?"

"It might. Let's give it a try."

He reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She swatted his hand aside. "Sorry, that's not on this morning's agenda."

The men who flirted with Lilah ranged from construction workers on the city streets to surgeons in the corridors of the hospital. No shrinking violet, she could hold her own with any of them. She rarely got flustered. This time she came close.

Male patients often used vulgarity just to get a shocked reaction out of the women on the hospital staff. Like children, they wanted to see how far they could go before being reprimanded.

But Adam didn't look like a child. He didn't sound like a child. He didn't even have the mischievous gleam in his eye that most patients did when trying to goad her. He looked and sounded deadly serious. For a forbidden instant Lilah was tempted to take his hand and draw it to her breast. She had to shake her blond head in order to clear it of the tempting thought.

"Can we get down to business now?" she asked authoritatively.