Kyle came in as Dr. Lindsey was finishing, and the four talked a couple of minutes before the surgeon left. Ethan shook Kyle’s hand, and Kyle pulled a chair up to sit beside Sam.
“How are you feeling?”
“More like I was hit by a bus than shot.”
He smiled sympathetically. “Let me get the doctor stuff out of the way. If I hadn’t been there during surgery you’d have likely needed three surgeries to get rid of the scar, and it would have looked really bad — a large sunken hole with a distorted hard spot on the upper portion, near two o’clock.”
“And since you were?”
“The priority was repairing your lungs, stitching up the vascular system, removing fragments, and repairing muscles where we could. Since I was in the room I helped stitch some things up with Dr. Lindsey’s instructions, and we got you through surgery faster with two of us working. We cleaned everything as much as possible, but the risk of infection after a gunshot wound is high, and that cuts down on some of what I can do to prevent scarring on the front end. I believe I kept the hard spot from forming, and I did what I could to keep the hole from being so pronounced, but if you want to completely erase it you’ll need another procedure later.”
“Right now I don’t think I care about the scar, but six months or a year from now, if it bothers me to be reminded of it, I may take you up on it.”
Ethan’s voice shook as he said, “I mostly want to thank you for getting Dr. Lindsey for us. I wouldn’t have known who to ask for, and would’ve had to just accept whoever was on duty at the time if it hadn’t been for you.”
“I’m glad I could help.” He patted Sam’s good hand. “I’ll be back to check on you a few times before you’re discharged. They’ll want to keep you until they’re sure your lungs are healing as they should, and the worst risk of infection has passed.”
He stayed for another fifteen minutes or so, asking about their honeymoon and telling them about the play-party they missed while they were gone. As he took his leave, he cautioned her once again about not pushing her lungs too hard until they’d healed.
* * * *
Sam survived the next two days without losing her patience, but on the third day she couldn’t sit still any longer. She was bored to tears with the inane shows on TV, she’d played Sudoku on her tablet until she was doing it in her sleep, and every time she started reading, she fell asleep.
Granted, they told her she was supposed to be sleeping more than she was awake right now, but she was tired of sleeping, too. And she hurt. Not just her chest, but her ab muscles and back muscles, which were likely strained from trying to take up the slack for the ones she wasn’t supposed to be using.
Ethan stayed with her the entire time, and only went downstairs to eat when someone else stopped by to see her.
Kirsten brought Master James the third evening, and they insisted Ethan go to the cafeteria with Master James while Kirsten talked to Sam.
“Thanks, Kirsten,” Sam said when the men were gone. “He won’t leave my side and I’m worried about him.”
“He came very close to losing you; let him do the Velcro thing as long as you can stand it. How are you doing?”
“Honestly? It wouldn’t take much for me to start crying and not stop except it’d hurt like a bitch.”
Kirsten smiled in sympathy. “Perfectly normal reaction. Are you sure you’re fighting it off because of the physical pain? Or are you trying to be strong for Ethan?”
“Probably a little of both,” Sam admitted. “I’ve gone AWOL on my clients after only being back a few weeks. I fucking hurt, pretty much all the damned time. I hate the way the pain meds make me feel so I’m only taking them at night and just dealing with the pain during the day. They won’t let me start working to get better until my lungs heal, and I’ve discovered I detest reality TV.”
“It must be very frustrating for you.”
Sam closed her eyes and said, “Don’t give me the psychobabble stuff. Please.”
“I’m not.” Kirsten waited until Sam opened her eyes and smiled. “I promise to only be your friend, even when I’m giving advice. If I think you need a therapist, I’ll recommend one, but that doesn’t mean I can’t state the obvious — it must be damned frustrating to have to lay still and not begin participating in your own recovery.”
“That’s it. Exactly. If I could start working towards regaining strength and getting better then at least I’d feel as if I’m accomplishing something. I’m gonna go crazy if I have to lay here and do nothing for much longer.”
“Has it occurred to you that, for now, the best way to get well is to give your body the rest it needs?”
Sam didn’t say anything and Kirsten changed the subject. “Is there something else you can be using this time for? A project on the computer, or a new skill you’ve wanted to learn, or maybe some legal continuing education credits you can get through an online course?”
“Damn, I hadn’t even thought of that. Thanks, Kirsten. There’s a lot of things I can do to help Tom out when he fights next month — researching the other top fighters, looking up online videos of their previous fights, that sort of thing. And I always have tons of legal crap I need to read through.”
When Master James and Ethan returned, the four sat and talked until the nurse informed them it was time for the patient to walk again. Sam walked them nearly all the way to the elevator, where they said their goodbyes.
Sam’s physical therapist appeared on the fourth day. He worked her through some very small range-of-motion exercises, but told her they couldn’t begin in earnest until Dr. Lindsey signed off that her lungs were ready.
The nurse decided Sam needed a laxative on the fifth day, but Sam obstinately refused. When the nurse insisted, Sam said, “Tell you what, if I haven’t gone by the time your shift starts tomorrow I’ll take it with no arguments, but if you insist I take it now then you’ll have to tie me down and cram it down my throat against my will.”
When the nurse left, Sam looked at Ethan and asked, “Is there a drugstore close by? I need you to go get some liquid suppositories. No way am I going through the pain of a laxative.”
Ethan smiled. “Oh, so I get to stick something up your ass?”
Sam rolled her eyes and decided to ignore the comment. “While you’re out, maybe you can pick up something good to eat? Takeout from Two-Twelve, or perhaps Saint Johns? I think we could both use a good meal. I’m beyond tired of this crappy processed hospital food. No wonder I’m so damned constipated.”
Chapter Seven
Sam arrived home on the eighth day after surgery. Part of the nurse’s final instructions were, “No sexual activity for at least three weeks, and even then, not until you can make it up a flight of steps twice without getting out of breath.”
An ugly-assed hospital bed was delivered to their living room, as she wasn’t supposed to sleep flat on her back until her lungs had healed more. She was so damned tired of hearing about her lungs, but there was nothing to do but give them time, apparently.
When Ethan unrolled a sleeping bag on the sofa as they prepared to go to sleep, she protested.
“Ethan, you’ve been sleeping on that horrid hospital chair that was supposed to double as a bed for someone half your size for over a week! I’m fine!”
“And I’ll be much happier by your side than sleeping alone in our room.” Sam’s heart broke when she saw his eyes water and his throat work as he swallowed to maintain control. “The idea of having to go home to this house, without you, nearly broke me when I was driving to the hospital, and then waiting while they operated on you. Please don’t expect me to go to that bed without you.” His voice broke as he finished with, “I don’t think I can.”
“Oh, Ethan.” Sam sat up, swung her legs around, and stood. She’d taken her sling off already, so she just held her left arm to her abdomen as she wrapped her right arm around his body in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through.”
“Don’t you dare ap
ologize.” He hugged her back, super careful to keep from hurting her. “I just wanted you to understand why I need to wait until you can come to bed with me. I’m fine on the sofa; it’s going to be damned luxurious after the convertible chair whatchamacallit in the hospital.”
“When are you planning to go back to work? I’m sure I’ll be fine by myself during the day, but I may need you to drive me to appointments for a while. I hate that you’re missing so much, and the sooner you go back, the less guilty I’ll feel about asking you to drive me.”
“I don’t know, let’s give it a couple of days and let me see how well you’re getting around. Maybe spend a day letting you do everything, with me here in case something’s too much, and if you make it okay then I’ll feel better about leaving you.”
Sam kissed his hand and made her way back to the bed. “Masterson’s dead, you don’t have to worry about him coming after me again.”
“I know.” His voice was tight. Pissed.
“I need to talk to the guard who shot him. I don’t remember hearing what the guards said to Masterson after he shot me, but I understand they warned him several times to drop his gun, and when he didn’t, and looked like he was about to shoot again, the guard took him out.”
“Why do you need to talk to him?”
“I just do. He either saved me from having another huge hole in my body, or possibly saved my life, and I hope he isn’t beating himself up about taking someone’s life. I guess I need to say thank you, and make sure he feels good about his decision to shoot.”
“His boss came to the hospital while you were in surgery, to see how you were doing. I expressed our thanks and asked him to pass them along.”
Sam’s head jerked at the news and she winced. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think of it. So much happened, I’d forgotten until you mentioned wanting to talk to the guard.”
Ethan stayed home with Sam another three days before returning to work. She couldn’t manage the lids on jars, or even the pull-up lids on plastic containers. Vivian brought them a meal in a bowl with a locking lid Sam could easily manage, and Ethan went to the store and bought a bunch of them in a variety of sizes. He moved the condiments into them, and precooked all of her comfort foods and kept them well stocked. He even scooped a serving size of ice cream into some, and stacked them neatly in the freezer.
Tara dropped by to visit her every couple of days, and took it upon herself to check Sam’s wound, change the dressing, and just generally play nurse. She never stayed long, but was worried about infection and about Sam pushing too hard. Sam didn’t mind her lectures, which was odd, since everyone else tended to piss her off when they told her what she needed to do to get better.
Even though Sam assured Ethan she was fine spending the day alone, he arranged for Vivian to come spend time with her Saturday while he worked.
“Come on in,” Sam said, as she opened the door when her friend arrived. “I can’t believe Ethan thought I needed a babysitter for the day; I’ve managed okay by myself during the week.” She took a breath and added, “But I can’t say I’m upset you’re here. It’ll be nice to have some girl talk.”
“Tyler’s out of town on an assignment so I’m happy to have the company. What do you feel up to? I know you aren’t supposed to do anything too strenuous, but could you do a flat section of the Riverwalk and then maybe go for an ice cream?”
“Oh. You mean, outside? I hadn’t…” Sam paused, unsure why the thought hadn’t occurred to her.
Viv smiled. “Hadn’t considered the possibility? I think it’s about time you did. Ethan said you can handle a one hundred yard walk as long as none of it’s uphill. I figure we can walk to a bench, sit for a while, and then go back to the car.”
Sam narrowed her eyes. “Were you a nurse or something in a past life? You knew I’d be able to handle the containers with the sliding lock on the lid, too. What gives?”
“My dad had open-heart surgery a few years ago.” She shrugged. “We had to figure out how to give him as much autonomy as possible, so I searched all the container brands and types until I found some he could open without stressing his sternum, where they cut him open.”
“And you had to figure out how to get him out and about slowly.” Sam sighed. “I hate feeling like my friends are managing me, but the idea of walking outside in the fresh air and sunshine is…nice.”
“I’m not managing you; I’m just giving you a possibility. If you’d rather stay in and watch movies, I’m game for that, too.”
“God no. If I have to sit through another movie or TV show right now I think my brain might melt.”
It wasn’t until Sam was sitting in Viv’s car that she remembered she’d have to ask for help with the seatbelt. Luckily, Viv helped without having to be asked.
“Damn, I hate feeling so helpless,” Sam said.
“You’re far from helpless and this is temporary. Enjoy the day and don’t sweat the small stuff. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
* * * *
Sam stayed busy with Tom the following week, as he was in his final days of training for his upcoming fights at the national level. He came to the house and they used the workout room as Sam talked him through routines and exercises. He made use of her punching bag, as well as the heavy bag and the wooden post dummy. She sat for a good part of the day, but also spent time walking around him so she could critique his form, urge him on, and give specific pointers for some of the men he might fight. They knew who he’d face in his first bout, and could make a decent presumption about his second fight, but beyond that was anyone’s guess. Still, she had a good idea of the top four fighters, and it was a good bet he’d fight at least two of them if he made it to the final rounds.
Ethan argued hard against her going to the fights, saying she’d get too tired, too excited, and might be jostled in the crowd. She insisted she could go, and received approval from her surgeon to sleep in the hotel bed as long as she took a large wedge to keep her lungs higher than her legs. The instant she got the okay from him, she called the rental company and instructed them to come get the hospital bed while she and Ethan were gone. “Just have your guys call me when they get to the house. I can unlock the door for them with my smartphone, watch them until they’re gone, and then lock it behind them.”
The first day of fights went as well as could be expected, and Tom won both bouts without getting too beat up. Sam stayed mostly in the background and let the guys come to her when they wanted input about strategy and tactics.
The group went out to eat afterwards, but Sam was exhausted and barely managed to stay awake towards the end. Ethan moved his chair closer to hers and encouraged her to lean into him, but the angle hurt more than it helped until she figured out how to turn sideways in her chair and lean back against him. As soon as the meal was finished, Ethan drove her to the hotel and ushered her straight to their room.
“Are you going to be okay tomorrow?” he asked as he closed the door behind them.
“I’ve been thinking about how best to work things,” she said as she released her sling and let it slide to the bed. Ethan stepped to her and unbuttoned her pants before helping her off with them. Sam was too tired to argue she could do it herself, so she quietly let him help get her clothes off and pajamas on.
“I think I need some sleep before I try to analyze the people he’s matched with tomorrow. I’ll plan on waking up early to look over what I have on them, and then we’ll let Tom come to the room for me to talk to him about the best way to beat them.”
She stifled a yawn as she crawled into bed without washing her face or brushing her teeth. “The two of you can go to the arena for the check-in and warmups, and I’ll take a cab and meet you a few hours later. If there’s enough time between his bouts, I may come back to the room and lay down for a bit.”
Ethan’s jaw flexed, but his hand was gentle as he caressed her cheek. “Today was harder on you than you admitted.”
“I
think it’s a combination of the drive down, and then having to either stand, or sit in uncomfortable chairs. If I can get a few hours to lie down in between times tomorrow, so I’m not upright so long, I should be okay.”
“What if I run out and buy some kind of folding chair, do you think one of those would be better than the seats they have for us?”
“I took a pain pill towards the end of dinner, and I’d rather you not leave me here alone tonight, but we’ll see how I feel tomorrow. One of those fabric camping chairs might be better for me to have in the staging area, at least. Those metal benches were a bitch.”
“I’m going to take a quick shower. This is the first time we’ve slept together since…” He hesitated a few heartbeats and continued, “I’m looking forward to holding you and touching you while we sleep.”
“I am, too, but the pain pill is beginning to do its thing so I’m not sure I’ll be aware of anything until morning.”
* * * *
When Ethan finished his shower, Sam was sound asleep. He worried she was pushing herself too hard, but the surgeon had said it would be good to increase her stamina as long as she used the sling to keep her shoulder and chest muscles stabilized.
He would try to talk her into letting him strap her left arm to her body tomorrow. She hadn’t walked or moved around this much in a single day since before she was shot, and tomorrow promised more of the same.
He crawled into bed beside her, but soon realized the wedge she slept on still kept her at a distance from him, even side-by-side in bed. After trying to hold her in a variety of ways, he finally gave up and had to be content with his legs under hers. She moaned in pleasure as her cold feet touched his warm leg, and he decided it was enough, for now.
The next morning, Ethan awoke as Sam was getting out of bed. He wanted to help, but stayed put to give her a few seconds on her own. He watched as she stood and slowly straightened with her arm pulled to her stomach as if in the sling. While she was in the bathroom he looked through her suitcase for the sling she’d brought to wear today. Yesterday’s was tan to match her outfit, today’s was a light denim print.
No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords) Page 8
