Loving Neil

by Ronald Bagliere

  Janet put her fingers to her face and felt the spongy gauze dressing. With an effort, she whispered, “What happened to me?”

  “You were in an accident,” the woman said as Janet sucked on the foam tipped stick. “Now, you need to save your voice or you’ll hurt your vocal chords. I’m going to check your wounds now. It might hurt.”

  Janet watched as Gina pulled back the bandage around her head then she looked down her body at a bruised and misshapen leg. It was swollen to grotesque proportions and was suspended in a sling. She gasped, and the room slowly started to spin again, pulling her up with it. Suddenly, faces of people flashed before her. Jimmy Coates, her high school prom date; a girl named, Amanda, who bullied her incessantly throughout middle school; her mother folding laundry in the back room of their house. Janet saw the open door behind her mother leading into darkness. Her heart thumped as a dull ache radiated through her, growing in strength with every passing moment. She shuddered then fell mercifully into the darkness of sleep.

  “Hey, there young ‘un,” said Tom, his weather-beaten face staring down at her. “Take it easy. You’re all right.” Warm, calloused fingers wrapped around her fingers as she sucked a big breath and winced. “You in pain?

  She looked at the old man who was her aunt June’s dear friend, and was now her tenant, and nodded. It was good to see a friendly face.

  “Hold on then, I’ll get the nurse.”

  As his hand pulled away, she grabbed it and whispered, “Don’t go.”

  Tom patted her hand. “I’m not going no where’s, don’t you worry ‘bout that, but you need something to ease your hurting right now.” He slipped his hand out of her grasp and scurried off.

  Janet squeezed her eyes shut as another crushing wave rolled up her leg, seizing her breath. Her body stiffened, and she cried out as Tom’s voice drifted into the room. “Nurse is on her way,” he said, his words close to her ear.

  She bit down on her lip and opened her eyes.

  “I know, I know,” he whispered, clutching her hand. “Hang in there, she’ll be right here.”

  Janet drew a deep breath as the sound of footsteps came beside her. “Janet, you in pain?”

  She shifted her gaze to a short, wiry woman standing beside Tom. The woman reached up as Tom backed away, checked the I.V., pushed a button on one of the machines beside Janet’s bed and showed her a small remote.

  “This is a self dispensing pain reliever. See this button here?” She pointed to a little blue button on the remote. “Push it whenever the pain gets too much for you, okay?”

  She put the device in Janet’s hand, and watched as Janet focused on the button and pressed it.

  “Good. You’ll start feeling better in a couple of minutes.” To Tom, she said, “They’re coming around with breakfast in half an hour. Would you like a plate brought up for you?”

  Tom shook his head. “I’m good. There a coffee machine up here anywhere?”

  “There’s a kitchen off the nurse’s station down the hall on the left,” she said, grabbing a clipboard hanging off a hook. As Janet watched her flip the pages over, she felt the drugs kick in.

  After the nurse left, Tom returned to Janet’s bedside. “How ya feeling now young ‘un?”

  As the pain began to recede, she smiled and whispered, “Much better. How did you know I was here?”

  “Apparently, you’re pretty fond of me. Had me as a contact in case of emergency,” Tom said. “I rung your father up. He’s catching the first flight out.”

  Janet closed her eyes. Saw her dad in her mind’s eye. Remembered the time she fell out of the old willow tree and broke her wrist. It had happened in the wooded lot behind their house. She was six or was it seven? It was so long ago. She could still feel his arms around her–feel the soft cottony texture of his flannel shirt on her face.

  Suddenly, Barney flashed into her thoughts.

  “What?” Tom asked.

  “Barney,” she answered.

  Tom winked. “The little feller’s staying with ole Tom here.”

  “Thank you. Is he all right?” Janet said.

  “Got a few scraps, but he’s up and bouncing around.”

  Janet eyed the I.V. tube. “Say, this is really good stuff.”

  “Only the best,” Tom said, pulling a chair beside her. “You know, I’ve seen way too much of the insides of this here place.”

  “Me too,” she whispered, licking dry and parched lips and trying to stay focused. “So, when’s my father due?”

  Tom looked at his watch. “Somewhere around this time tomorrow, I expect.”

  Janet awoke the next morning, turned her head and found her father sitting in a chair next to her window reading the paper. He’s here. She watched him, drinking in his face as his eyes shifted back and forth across the page. “Hi, Dad.”

  He dropped the paper in his lap and beamed a broad smile. “Hey sweetie!”

  “How long have you been sitting here?”

  “‘Bout an hour.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Your brother sends his love. He would have come, but I told him to stay put unless … well, you know.”

  That’s my dad–Mr. Practical, Janet thought. “You look tired.”

  He shrugged. “Just a little jet lag. Nothing some sleep can’t cure.”

  “For someone who doesn’t like flying, you’re doing an awful lot of it lately.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said putting his hand to her face.

  She smiled then peered down her body at her misshapen leg. It was a hideous sight. “Pretty ugly, huh?”

  Her father nodded. ”Looks worse than it is. You’ll heal up quick and be up and around in no time.”

  Right, Janet thought. ”I’m guessing my car won’t be though.”

  Her father shook his head. “Ah … no. Here, have a drink.” He reached beside him and picked up a small Styrofoam cup.

  She drank a sip and gave it back to him. “Do they know what caused the accident? I can’t remember anything.”

  “They’re still investigating, but they think it might have been a blown tire.”

  Janet nodded and looked up into his careworn and jet lagged face. What she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and tell him how much she missed him, but she was afraid to risk the fragile moment they were sharing. Finally, she said, “Doesn’t matter. You’re here and that’s all that counts.”

  September 1, 1980 -

  Janet hobbled through the front door of her house with her father tagging along behind. The scars over her right eye were fading and the patch of hair that had been cut away was coming back. As for the surgery to repair her broken leg, that had gone terrifically, and with a steady regimen of PT, she expected to be walking on her own without crutches within the next couple of weeks. Her father set her bags down on the couch and helped her sit.

  The house was spotless. Her father was obsessive when it came to cleanliness. He went to the kitchen and a few minutes later returned with a glass of iced tea. “Tom’ll be here shortly with Barney. I told him to hold onto him until you were back home, seeing how I was back and forth to the hospital.”

  She relaxed in her chair as he turned the TV on and went about putting things away. An hour later, the doorbell rang. She shot a perplexed look at the door.

  Her father said, “You expecting anyone?”

  Janet shrugged. “Not really.”

  He went and opened the door. On the other side, Janet heard Megan’s cheery voice.

  “What’re you doing here?” Janet said, shifting around in her chair.

  “I came to welcome you back,” Megan replied, coming in with a bouquet of daisies. She handed them to Janet’s father and nodded back toward the front door. “And I brought someone with me.”

  “Mick! You guys!” Janet said as Megan dropped her purse on the couch. She came over and bent down to give Janet a hug.

  Mick said, “We wanted to give you a warm welcome home.”

  “Brad would’ve been here too, but K
yle got an ear infection. Nothing major,” Megan said. She looked around. “Where’s Barney?”

  “He’s with Janet’s tenant,” Janet’s father said. He put his hand out to Mick. “I’m Will, Janet’s father.”

  “Mick Danzer. I hear you’re from back east.”

  “Yeah, Ohio Valley,” Will said. He lifted the flowers in his hand, and appraised them. “Why don’t I get these in a vase and let you guys have a moment together.”

  As Will walked down the hallway, Megan said, “So, how’s it going between you two? Looks like you’re getting along.”

  Janet smiled. “We’re doing good.”

  Mick reached into his jacket pocket, pulled an envelope out, and handed it to her. “What’s this?” Janet said, looking at him.

  “A little something to tithe you over,” Mick replied.

  “We took a collection,” Megan added.

  Janet shook her head. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Don’t worry about what we should or shouldn’t have done,” Megan scolded.

  Mick said. “Take it. There’s a check in there, too. Call it an advance on your next shoot.”

  Janet fought to stem the tide of emotions roiling inside her. She folded the envelope and tucked it in her purse.

  “Hey, Mick,” Megan said. “Mind stepping out for a minute?” When he looked at her puzzled, Megan added, “Girl talk.”

  After Mick took the hint and left, Megan kneeled beside Janet’s chair and said, “So, how are things, really?”

  Janet shrugged. “I’m exhausted, but I’m good.”

  “You need any help?”

  “No, my dad’s here, so I’m fine.”

  When Megan grew quiet, Janet could see there was something on her mind. Finally, Megan said, “My father has finally decided to move out west.”

  “That’s great!” Janet said, as she wondered what all the trepidation was about.

  “Yeah, I’m really excited. Ummm … I don’t know how to ask this, and I don’t want to sound like a … well, you know, a –”

  “What is it, Meg?” Janet said, bracing herself.

  “I heard you talking about your aunt’s house a while back, about how you didn’t know what to do about it, and I was thinking maybe … maybe you might be interested in renting it.”

  “To your father, I suppose?” Janet said, eyeing her dubiously.

  “Well, yeah, it sort of crossed my mind,” Megan replied, nibbling her lip.

  Janet took a deep breath and forced a grin. “Sort’a?”

  Megan giggled nervously. “Well, the way I see it, it’s the perfect solution for both of you.”

  Janet shook her head. She didn’t want to expand her role as a landlord. Yet, Megan was her friend, and her father had helped her out of a tight spot on the snowy highway. She sighed. “When’s he coming out?”

  “In the spring, but he could fly out earlier.”

  Janet pursed her lips. “Let me think about it.”

  5

  May 23, 1981 –

  Janet stepped onto the crowded outdoor deck of Sal’s Bistro and sat at a linen-topped table. It was her birthday and this year her father made a point of coming out to celebrate it with her. As he joined her, she unfolded her napkin and took in the Locust and Dogwood dotting the grounds.

  Although it was nine months since her accident, she still felt conscious of the brace under her skirt. She stretched her leg and inhaled the fragrant scents of the flowering lilies bordering the deck. Beside her, her father sat reading his menu and sipping ice water. I wonder what’s on his mind, she thought. He’s been acting really nervous since he came out last week.

  At length, he put his menu down. “I think I’ll have the grilled halibut. What about you?”

  She studied the knitted brow on his sculpted face and noticed the shaving nick on his chin. She offered him a smile and pointed to his face. “You cut yourself.”

  “Yeah, sometimes I go a little faster than I should with the old razor.”

  “I love you, Dad.”

  He put his fingers to her cheek, looked into her eyes. “Thank you. I love you, too.” He paused then and she saw him take a deep breath. Finally, he went on. “I … I’ve been thinking. Craig’s in Florida and married. Seeing how there’s nothing back east for me anymore, I was thinking of … picking up stakes and moving?”

  She nodded and forced a smile, “I’m sure he’d love having you close.”

  Her father gazed at her for some time with an enigmatic expression, then said, “I was thinking of coming west.”

  Her heart leapt. “Are you serious?”

  He paused, as if giving the idea one last thought. “Yeah, that is if you’d want me underfoot.”

  “Dad, you wouldn’t be in the way,” she said reaching out and folding her hand over his arm.

  He gave her one of his classic thin-lipped smiles. “You’re all right with it then?”

  “Absolutely,” she replied. “When can you come?”

  “I was thinking right after my lease runs out in July.”

  June 30, 1981 -

  Janet scrubbed the last stain away from June’s kitchen sink while Tom worked on the upstairs bedrooms. She hadn’t asked him to come help, but he insisted, and she was glad of it. As she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, she re-assessed the decision she’d made months ago about renting the house to Neil.

  He’s Megan’s father, so that should count for something, and he is older. Suddenly, her brow went up. Oh, crap, you idiot! He smokes! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it ‘til now. What do I say if he likes it, no thanks? She shook her head as the wall clock rang out the half hour. She looked up at it. Shit, it’s eleven thirty. They’ll be here any minute!

  After rinsing the sink, she ran through the empty house to the downstairs bathroom. Pushing the door open, she flipped the light switch, shut the door, and faced the mirror. Sweat and grit spattered her white painter’s shirt and her hair was all over her face. “Damn it, I look like hell.”

  Grabbing a washcloth, she turned the water on. As she scrubbed her face, a knock came to the front door. Shit! Cracking the door open, she yelled up to Tom, “Can you get that? I think it’s them.”

  Tom’s graveled voice trickled down from upstairs. “On my way.” A moment later she heard the stairs creak under his footsteps. Through the bathroom door, she heard voices. “Come on in. How was the drive?”

  “Not bad,” said a deep voice that was unmistakably Neil’s.

  “Where’s Jan?” Megan asked.

  “Be right out,” Janet replied peering through the crack of the partially open door. She blinked when she saw Neil. He had shaved his beard and mustache and looked like he’d lost another ten pounds since she last saw him.

  “Take your time,” Megan called back. “We’re in no hurry.”

  Janet pulled a scrunchy out, put her hair in a ponytail, then opened the door and walked out to greet them.

  Neil, who had his back turned toward her, turned and shot Janet a broad smile. “What a cozy little place you have.”

  Janet shrugged as he panned the room with a discerning gaze. “It needs a lot of work,” she said, apologetically.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Neil replied.

  Megan turned to Janet. “That’s my dad, always looking on the bright side.”

  Neil eyed his daughter affectionately. “What’s wrong with that?” To Janet, he added, “I look at old houses like blind dates.”

  Tom broke out laughing. “Never heard it put that way!”

  “Me neither.” Janet chuckled. Strange choice of words. Can I get you guys something to drink? There’s soda in the fridge.”

  Megan’s glance darted around. “Sure … where’s Barney?”

  “Home, watching the house.”

  “You trust him alone. Brave girl!”

  Janet grinned. “He’s in his crate, but actually, he’s very good most of the time,” she replied, leading them out to the kitchen. Over her shoul
der, she continued, “Please excuse the walls. God knows they could use a coat of paint.”

  “Painting’s not a problem,” Neil said, and a soda sounds great.”

  They stood around the kitchen sipping drinks for the next ten minutes, talking about the weather, until Neil said, “Do you know when your aunt added this kitchen?”

  Janet felt her brow go up. “Added?”

  “Yeah.” He pointed to a ridge in the floor tile. “See how the floor dips there and slopes away toward the dining room?”

  Janet frowned. Huh, why haven’t I noticed that before?

  “That’s the old house over there,” Neil continued. “And from here back to the bay window is the addition. You can also tell by the faint line in the ceiling, there and there. It’s where the wallboard meets up with the old plaster. Whoever did the finish work was pretty good.”

  Tom beamed from where he stood in the corner of the room.

  “Oh,” Janet said. Her gaze went back to the floor. “The dip there, is that bad?”

  Neil shook his head. “Nah. Old houses have their own personalities. Just like old men … belligerent.” He winked at Tom.

  Janet cleared her throat. “Okay, where to?”

  Neil’s eye caught sight of a narrow door at the end of the room. “Where’s that lead?”

  “The basement.”

  “Really?” He headed for the door. “You know people didn’t dig many basements out here.”

  Janet never thought about it, but now that he’d mentioned it, he was right. “You don’t mind if I wait here? I’m not a fan of spiders.”

  Neil opened the door. “No problem at all.”

  As he went downstairs, Janet heard the old wooden treads complain under his feet. “I think there’s a switch somewhere at the bottom,” she said, edging toward the door.

  A soft yellow glow from a light bulb pushed the darkness away and Janet heard Neil knocking around below. Suddenly, he was back at the bottom of the stairs looking up. “I think you ought to come down and take a peek at something.”