Rachel Lee - Snowstorm Confessions

“Always glad to help,” he responded cheerfully.

And he was a cheerful person. He worked at the hardware store, but picked up side jobs as a handyman. She’d lost count of the times he’d helped her out with something.

She tried making some very soft scrambled eggs for Luke. The man needed something for subsistence besides broth and milk shakes.

He was wide awake when she carried the bowl and spoon into the living room. “Good morning,” she said.

“Morning.” He looked at the bowl.

“Scrambled eggs,” she explained. “No chewing. How’s that jaw feel?”

“Better.”

She supposed that was debatable. It didn’t look any less swollen, but maybe it was on the inside. “Time for your pain pill, too. Water?”

“Please.”

“You want to try to feed yourself?”

“Yeah.”

So she raised the head of his bed, pulled the table over, adjusting its height, and left him to it while she went to get him a glass of water with a straw.

When she came back, he’d already put away half the eggs. “Good,” he said, with what appeared to be an attempt at a smile.

“More where those came from. Just let me know.”

He managed to get the pill down, too. “Coffee?” he asked hopefully.

She hesitated. “I’ll have to cool it down. I don’t know how lacerated the inside of your cheek is, either. It might really sting.”

“Coffee,” he repeated. “Please.”

Puppy-dog eyes, she thought. When had Luke learned to make puppy-dog eyes? Damn, he was tugging her heart strings.

At least she had plastic straws. “Iced coffee,” she suggested. “You have to drink through a straw right now.” She wondered if he had any idea of how much egg he had on his face right now. Probably not. She grabbed a napkin and wiped it gently away.

“Won’t always be like this,” he said.

She wondered if that was a promise or a threat. “No, you’re getting better. I’ll get that coffee.”

She made the iced coffee in a plastic cup, then froze. He must need a sponge bath by now. Oh, wasn’t that going to be fun. But it needed to be done before she changed his sheets.

She didn’t want to do it. She could do it for any patient without a second thought, but this was different. This was a body she had once loved and made love with. Awkward. Awful. She closed her eyes a moment, resisting the idea but knowing it was important for his comfort, if not for his health. He was beginning to get a little ripe.

Oh, hell. She carried the coffee back to him and found he’d nearly finished the eggs. She had to wipe his face again.

He enjoyed the coffee, though, and it didn’t seem to cause him too much discomfort. Of course the pill was probably starting to kick in. Maybe it would make him safely woozy for a sponge bath.

“More eggs?” she asked.

“Not now. Later. Thanks.”

She sat sipping her own mug of coffee, waiting for him to start looking a bit drowsy. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be happening.

“How are you feeling?”

“Been through a cement mixer.”

“I imagine it feels that way. Listen, I need to change your bedding, and your gown. I want to do it when the pain pill is working its strongest.”

“’Kay.”

“But...” She bit her lower lip. “I need to give you a sponge bath, too. Will you cooperate?”

Damn him, she thought she saw a wicked twinkle in those gray eyes. “Never thought you’d ask.”

“Damn you, Luke, don’t be a pain. I’ve got to move you around. Clean sheets. Clean body, clean gown. No bedsores on my watch. That’s the beginning and end of it.”

“Yes, Nurse.” But that twinkle seemed to remain. If the rest of his face had been more mobile, the expression probably would have been all over it.

“Luke...”

“I’ll...be good.”

As if he could do much else, she thought irritably. Why was she even bothered by this? Right now he was a helpless slab of meat with a devilish look in his eyes. She’d seen that from eighty-year-olds...although they tried to have the male nurses take care of these things.

“I could call a man to do it.”

“Said I’d be good.” He set the coffee on the table. “What am I gonna do?”

Exactly, she thought. He was utterly helpless, which gave her a momentary flash of pleasure. Luke had never been helpless. Never. Her mind suddenly served up a smorgasbord of the ways she could tease him with a sponge bath, drive him out of his mind the way he had so often driven her. Turn him into a helpless sex slave. The image amused her so much that she was able to laugh at herself, even as heat blossomed between her legs.

The knock on the door surprised her. She wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour, but there was Jack, safety bar and tool kit in hand.

“That was quick,” she said.

He shrugged and gave her a shy smile. “I heard about the guy. Didn’t figure it could wait long.”

“I really appreciate this,” she assured him as she let him in.

“Why do you have to take care of him?” Jack asked as he headed down the hallway to the bathroom. She wasn’t surprised he knew where it was since he’d replaced the tile for her last year.

“Do you see a convalescent home within a few hundred miles? He can’t be moved yet.”

“So how’d you get to be it?”

Good question, she thought. “Because I’m a sucker?”

He astonished her by turning sharply, looking angry. “Don’t say things like that about yourself. You’re a nice lady.”

His vehemence surprised her so much that she nearly stepped back. Jack usually seemed so calm and pleasant. But then his face smoothed and he shifted the bar so he could enter the bathroom.

“I used to know Luke,” she said finally. “It seemed like the right thing to do for a friend.”

“Like I said, you’re a nice lady. Where you want this bar? By the commode or in the shower?”

“He won’t be taking showers while he’s here. Just by the commode. To help him move in and out of the wheelchair.”

“He’s pretty messed up?”

“Seriously messed up.”

“Too bad. This won’t take long.”

She was glad, actually glad, to head back to Luke. Something about Jack disturbed her this morning. He didn’t seem quite like himself. But then everything in her life felt strange right now, so why should Jack be any different?

Luke had finished the iced coffee and asked for more when she got back. At the moment she was glad just to be busy. Everything was off-kilter, and ordinary tasks suddenly felt like a lifeline to sanity.

Luke was back in her life, however temporarily; Jack seemed weird; and God knew she didn’t feel at all like herself.

Jack finished up in about twenty minutes. He had her test the bar to her own satisfaction, leaning her full weight on it.

“Great job,” she told him.

He smiled shyly. “It’s easy.”

“Maybe for you.”

That made him beam. “You got a vacuum? I’ll get up the dust.”

“I can take care of it. The store must need you back.” And she needed him out of here, though she wasn’t sure why. Ordinarily she didn’t mind having Jack around when he was doing a job for her, but today...today something was different.

He looked surprised but finished packing his tools and headed out. She’d get a bill from the store at the end of the month, so he didn’t have to even pause for payment. She was relieved to close the door behind him.

“What was that?” Luke asked.

“My handyman, Jack. I had him put a safety bar in the bathroom for you.”

“Sorry. Sorry for imposing. Causing trouble.”

“It’s not your fault.” She could say that much with truth. And at least he seemed to be growing steadily more coherent. Maybe there wouldn’t be any long-term effects from the concussion. God, she hoped not. Mild concussions had been known to mess people up for years or longer.