by Barbara Lohr
In the ER, the staff took over and her last glimpse of Will showed a man on the edge. And she’d brought him to this point. How could she ever have been so foolish? When she told the nurses what had happened, they exchanged a look. “What?” she asked. “Am I totally stupid?”
“It’s still barbecue time,” one woman finally said. “Almost the season when people dunk a whole turkey into hot oil. We see this a lot.”
Then the doctor bustled in, quick and efficient. Gave directives to the nurses and tore a prescription off a pad. Although the nurses dressed the wound and gave her painkillers, Diana’s arm and hand screamed with pain. This wasn’t going to be a short fix. The arm was one thing. She could always wear long sleeves. But her face?
“You’re lucky,” the second nurse told her when they were alone. “Hardly anything on that cheek. I’ve seen a lot worse.”
Diana turned her blurred vision to the plaid privacy curtain. No doubt the plaid had been pretty once. Fresh and spotless. Now a rip in the upper corner marred the surface. A tear dribbled slowly down her right cheek.
“Would you like some water?” the nurse asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t. Her pulsing left cheek told her how terrible she looked, all bandaged up. She’d been showing off, proving herself part of the team. Totally stupid.
“How are you?” Will asked when they let him enter.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
The glib words might work with the nurse but Will knew her better. “No, I mean how do you feel?”
“Oh, Will,” she groaned. She didn’t want to talk about how she felt. Didn’t want him to see her like this. “Go back to the care center. The party’s still going on and you should be there.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m staying.” He settled into the blue plastic chair next to the bed. “As soon as they discharge you, I’ll take you home. Should I call someone in your family?”
Diana gave a sharp jerk of her head. “No. My grandmother and aunt would both freak out.”
Will shot her a strange look. Right. His super supportive, perfect family would be there for him as fast as they could make it from Beanblossom.
When would the pain pills take hold? Her nerve endings felt shredded. Grabbing a handful of the crisp white sheet, she tried again. “I don’t want to worry Grandma Kit. She’d want to come up, and there’s no need for that.” The thought of her grandmother and Aunt Ethel trekking up Highway 31 in their ancient Saturn terrified her. Now, that was something to worry about.
Will squeezed her right hand. “You’re so independent. So brave. But you’re not alone in this.”
“I know, Will. And I appreciate your support.” She patted his hand to reassure him.
“I feel guilty as hell. If I hadn’t mentioned that we needed more food, if I’d stopped you from running back into the kitchen...”
Slipping her hand from his grasp, she pushed away. “Don’t. How could you know I’d do something that stupid? My poor judgment is to blame.” The words mocked her. She seemed to hop from one mistake to another. The last time, she’d wound up dating a married man. Now she’d destroyed the one good thing she’d inherited from her mother. Her looks. In the past, she could always count on her appearance.
Why wouldn’t he leave? While they waited together, she felt imprisoned in the closed area that was too bright, had a lot of scary machines and smelled like medicine.
Eventually she was discharged. A pearl gray dawn greeted them as they drove up an empty Red Arrow Highway. Along the road, the yellow and red leaves were stripped from the trees. The only greenery was provided by pine trees, and everything else looked so bleak. Once home, Will set her up on the sofa with a TV remote. “I think you should move in with me for a while.” His blue eyes swam with concern.
“Absolutely not.”
“Please, let me take care of you.”
Her throat felt like a grapefruit was wedged in it. “I can handle it, Will.”
She used to love feeling his eyes on her, but now his constant attention annoyed her. When he reached over to brush a lock of hair from her eyes, she grabbed his hand. “Please stop.” He winced and she loosened her hold. The poor guy looked like he didn’t know what to do and she felt awful. Will Applegate––the administrator who set protocols following state and national guidelines––was at a loss. She desperately wanted to come to terms with the accident on her own, the way she’d always handled everything. Finally, Will left.
Alone at last, Diana fell into a deep sleep and dreamed she was caught in a hall of mirrors. Distortions laughed at her, the faces twisted. When she woke up, her hoodie clung to her body, damp with perspiration.
Thank goodness her shop was closed on Monday. Getting up, she dragged herself to the refrigerator but when she opened the door, the cold air made her wounds throb. Slamming it shut, she searched her cupboards until she found a can of baked beans. But she couldn’t work the opener with one hand. In the end, she ended up eating white bread, dry and tasteless. Agonizing, she wondered if she’d chased Will away.
When he rang the bell that evening, she felt so glad. Sitting next to her, Will filled her in. “I talked to Rachel. She’s going to cover some hours for you. Chili too.”
“Chili? But Will...”
He started to reach for her hand but she tucked them both into her lap. “Ignacio’s vegetable business has slowed down with the change in the weather,” Will explained slowly. “They have tons of cousins here to help. Chili insisted she has time. You just take care of yourself, okay? That’s what she told me. Well, it sounded something like that.” A shy grin teased his lips, as if he were inviting her to see the humor. But she didn’t.
“Thank you.” The shop had to remain open. She needed the revenue and should be grateful. But she didn’t like to accept help from anyone.
Whipping out his phone, Will pulled up his calendar. “Let’s see. We have an appointment with your doctor tomorrow.”
“You called Patty Jordan?”
“Yes, the ER doc said you should be checked out by your physician.”
Was this man amazing or what? “You’re so sweet, Will. I didn’t even hear him say that.”
“Totally understandable. That’s why I’m here.” The kiss on her forehead sent warm comfort coursing through her.
“Will, about the Sunday dances. Can you tell Jan I won’t be there? Not right now.”
“Sure thing. She’ll understand but you will be missed.” Turning her slightly, Will began to massage her shoulders. “You’re so tight, Diana. Does this feel good?”
“Don’t stop. Please.” And don’t leave. Don’t let me be stupid and push you away. His thumbs worked at the tense knots until he was satisfied and moved to another muscle. “You’re really good at this.”
“Probably feel even better with warm oil,” he whispered close to her ear.
Desire pooled in her lap with liquid heat. How incredible. Just when she thought she’d never feel desirable again. But when his lips brushed her neck, she pulled away. No way was she getting into anything physical right now.
“Just checking my patient,” Will teased.
“Sure. Right. Back to the Sunday dances. You understand, don’t you?” She just couldn’t face anyone right now. But that massage had felt mighty good.
Will left a short time later. She needed time to process, and maybe he saw that. Seemed like ages since she’d dare imagine a future for her and Will. Those were the days when he greeted her with, “Hi, beautiful.”
The next day, Patty Jordan examined her burns. Diana really liked Dr. Jordan. With her athletic walk and snappy manner, she exuded confidence. When she peeled back the bandages, she looked over the damage thoughtfully. Then she taught Diana how to care for the injuries. “You’ll need your...friend out there to help you with the bandaging at first.”
Patty was having trouble defining Will, sitting in the waiting room against his objections.
“I think I can
manage.”
Lips pursed, Patty fingered the stethoscope around her neck. “He’s worried about you. Always helps to have some support.”
“I know that, but right now? I want to handle this myself.” Diana still hadn’t asked the most important question. “Am I going to have s-scars?”
Bless her heart, Patty didn’t glance away. “This will take time. Try not to imagine the worst. Let’s just see how things heal.”
“Do you want me to take you into Chicago?” Will asked on the way home. “Loyola has a good burn center.”
Heck yes. But she couldn’t do that to him. All that traveling back and forth. The thought of being with strange doctors in a city where she’d been humiliated just didn’t feel good. Besides, her insurance was an HMO, and a Chicago hospital would be out of network. No, she wanted to stay with Patty Jordan’s quiet confidence. “That’s not necessary, Will, and I don’t want to take you away from work.”
“Jan is filling in for me.” They’d reached her house and he parked. Turning, he searched her face, and she shrank from the scrutiny while a cold wind buffeted the car.
“Don’t.” Will put a hand gently on her arm. “Please don’t pull away.”
“I’m not. It’s just that, you don’t have to do all this.”
“Oh, yes, I do. I want to.” His eyes overflowed with compassion. She’d seen this expression so many times, only then it was directed at Luanne or one of the residents who needed his care so badly.
“You’re not responsible. You don’t have to take charge. I’d like some private time. Dr. Jordan said this would heal. That the burns might leave some lightly discolored spots, but I’ll be fine.” Those weren’t Patty’s exact words and maybe Will knew that.
“This isn’t about responsibility, Diana. This is about...love.” Even he looked surprised by his words. “I love you, Diana. You’re all I think about.”
Not now. Uncomfortable, she backed against the side door until the handle bit into her back. Sure, she’d hoped he’d say these words someday...but not when she was like, well, this.
“Maybe what we had before was physical attraction,” she finally said. The accident had changed all that.
“That’s crazy, Diana. You couldn’t really believe that.” His chin squared. “Trust me, I know how I feel.”
This was not how she’d pictured it. Sure, she’d been cherishing similar thoughts. Will Applegate was the real deal. Caring, kind and hot. But now?
“This is where you say, I love you too.” His eyes blazed.
Nausea churned in her empty stomach. “But I can’t.” He was on her left side. No helping that when he drove. Nervous, she pulled a hank of hair over her bandaged left cheek. “I have a lot to work through.”
Jaws clenched, he looked beside himself. “All right. You need time. But I’m here, whenever you need me.”
She’d heard him say these words before at the facility and they left her cold. He was trained for situations like this and was treating her like one of his residents.
“Thank you, Will.” She cracked open her door and gave it a heave with her right hand.
“Let me get that.” Jumping out, he came around to help her. The path to her door felt long. The black-eyed Susans that had been so bright and beautiful in August were now shriveled sticks.
Silence shrouded them when they climbed the steps. Inside her mind a tiny voice clamored, telling Diana to bury herself in Will’s arms, accept the help and love he offered. But she couldn’t. Not at this stage, when she didn’t know how she’d end up. It wouldn’t be fair.
“Want me to call Brewster’s and pick up a pizza later?” he asked, playing with the keys in his hand.
She shook her head. “Not hungry, but thanks.” Why hadn’t she gotten her keys out in the car?
“Everything I’ve read on the Internet says you have to eat a lot of protein to create new cells.”
“I’m not your patient, Will.”
A nerve twitched in his cheek.
Chapter 15
Now she’d hurt him. The disappointment in his face twisted something deep inside. “I’m sorry, Will. You’ve been so sweet. Could you go to Clancy’s and grab some food from the deli? Something that’s easy to eat?” The thought of facing people and answering questions terrified her.
He was at the door in two seconds. “Sure. Be right back.”
“And Will? Could I ask you one more thing?”
Eyes bright with his mission, he pivoted.
“Could you leave it at the back door?”
His smile collapsed. “Sure. Fine.”
“It’s just that I have to take a nap and...” And I’m a total mess.
Lifting his hands palms up, he said, “You don’t have to explain. Whatever you want, Diana.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’re doing.”
Inside, she didn’t get far. That sofa looked so inviting, pillows punched in all the right spots. Shrugging out of her jacket, she slumped onto the soft corduroy. Hoping for sleep, she just wanted to forget. When she woke up, it was pitch black outside. Took a minute to figure out where she was. Then the dull pain reminded her. With a sigh, she leveraged herself up and dragged herself to the back door for the groceries. The bag handles bit into her skin. Served her right for being such a butthead. Wrenching the refrigerator open, she stacked the plastic containers inside.
Why was it so hard for her to accept help? The rest of the week was spent in front of the TV, where she could lose herself in shows about abandoned storage sheds and junk pickers. As the hours slipped by, she had to remind herself to eat. Changing the dressing was no picnic, and she tried not to look. But how could she help it? The wounds were seriously ugly, but they didn’t show any of the red flags Dr. Jordan had mentioned.
Will called every day, and she always found an excuse why coming over was a bad idea. Shaking her depression over what had happened, and the uncertainty of her future, was almost more than she could handle. But when Saturday rolled around, she relented. This was silly. She was punishing both of them. The pizza he brought from Brewster’s was the first good thing she’d eaten all week, spinach and roasted red peppers with lots of cheese. His arm around her, they watched TV. When he began to ply her with questions––how do the burns feel, has she been putting the ointment on––Diana gave an obvious yawn. Will got the message and soon left.
The following day she visited Hippy Chick and found the shop neat as a pin. Rachel and Chili had done a great job. When the afternoon rolled around, she wondered if the residents at Gull Harbor Care Center missed her. About now, they should be whirling around the dance floor. Missing the group terribly, she was tempted to drive over there. But she didn’t want to frighten them with these bandages. She buried herself in posting invoices that afternoon.
Going back to work the next Tuesday was a relief. Rachel stopped in just before closing. “Wow” was her only response when she saw Diana. “Does it hurt?”
“Not that much.” No, the pain was buried deep inside, in a place Diana could not reach.
Book club was coming up. “I haven’t had time to read the book,” she told Phoebe when she called that evening to remind her. Her scalp itched like crazy, and she poked at it with a pencil while they talked.
“What does that have to do with anything, hon?” Phoebe chortled. “We hardly ever talk about the book. You know that. Carolyn will pick you up. It’ll do you good.”
“Well, I’ll see.” Trying to grapple with the phone and the pencil, she dropped both.
“What’s going on over there, girlfriend?” Phoebe asked when Diana came back to the conversation.
“Sorry, I was just messing with my hair. It’s driving me crazy.” Her attempt at a laugh failed miserably.
“I’ll be right over.”
“Don’t you dare.” Let Phoebe see her like this?
She heard Phoebe suck in a deep breath. “Diana, I’m coming with all my supplies. As a friend. You don’t have to change. You
don’t have to put on makeup. This is me, Phoebe, and I want to help you.”
Okay, now she felt really foolish. Her resistance folded. “Great. See you soon.”
Besides, what was her option? Ask Will to shampoo her hair? A week ago, that might have felt sexy. Now? No way. She was holding him off again, not answering his texts. Oh, she knew how frustrating this was. Their evening phone calls were a lifesaver for her. She loved hearing his voice, but she didn’t want to face him, not after last Saturday. Besides, she’d liked that shoulder massage way too much. No way was she getting intimate until these injuries looked a heck of a lot better.
So she was soldiering on alone. Washing her hair with one hand had been a disaster. The spray had shot all over the kitchen. She cleaned off her counter next to the sink and waited.
True to her word, Phoebe soon bustled in, bringing a carton of her homemade minestrone soup. “First we eat then I do your hair, okay?” Phoebe cackled. “If you don’t eat, you can just live with your hair, got it?”
The threat made Diana smile. But her left cheek protested.
“So how’s the shop coming?” Phoebe asked as she ladled steaming soup into bowls. The aroma awakened Diana’s hunger.
“You mean beside the fact that Rachel looked at me like I was Frankenstein?”
“You don’t look that bad. No visible stitches holding you together.” Phoebe opened a bag of oyster crackers.
The air seemed to lighten. Dark moods never lingered around Phoebe. Lifting a spoon, Diana started to sip. “Hey, this stuff’s good.”
Perched on a stool, Phoebe waved a spoon at her. “You’ll get over this. Besides, who’s perfect? That’s not life. Perfect would be boring.”
“Maybe.” She’d have to think about that. Diana had spent her life aiming for perfect. Her mother had a little dressing table with a flowered skirt. She’d spread out her cosmetics on the tabletop. After she took off, the dressing table became Diana’s. Her grandmother bought special lamps for it.
When the soup was finished, Phoebe assembled her arsenal of products on the kitchen counter and went to work. She had Diana bend forward while she shampooed her hair. Under Phoebe’s capable fingers, she groaned. “This feels like heaven and smells wonderful.”
