“Are you comfortable?” she asked.
“Yes, so sit down and stop hovering.”
Realizing she was acting like an overprotective nanny, she sat down to watch. Halfway into the third inning, the mosquitoes attacked. Aware that Jared couldn’t protect himself, she pulled out her can of repellent and began spraying.
“Would you watch where you’re aiming?” he choked, waving away the mist with his good hand.
“Stop complaining. If you start itching, you’ll wish I’d used more than I have.”
The game grew intense as both teams were tied at the top of the seventh inning. Jared shouted encouragement when Nate came to the plate with a fellow Falcon on second base representing the winning run.
“Watch the curve ball,” he muttered, as the pitcher wound up for his release. “Just like we practiced.”
As if he’d either heard Jared’s mental signal or had learned his lesson well, Nate swung and sent the ball sailing over the center fielder’s head. The Falcon fans erupted in the stands and Jared yelled loud enough for the youngster to hear.
“We won,” he shouted. “We won. Way to go, Nate.”
“He’ll fly high for a long time,” Annie remarked, delighted for Monica’s son.
“I’m happy for him. He and his friends have wanted to beat these guys since last season.”
It took Annie fifteen minutes to load Jared into her car, and by then the Falcons were leaving the field. Nate saw them and raced over.
“You came!” he said, clearly delighted. “Did you see me hit the ball?”
“You were fantastic,” Jared told him. “Congratulations for a job well done.”
“Thanks. We’re headed for ice cream,” Nate said, “so I gotta go. See you later.”
“He’s a great kid,” Jared said as she drove home. “Where’s his dad?”
“Somewhere in California, enjoying the single life. I think they hear from him once in a while, but he’s basically out of the picture. It’s a shame because Nate and Wendy are wonderful kids. Their father doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
He fell silent and Annie left Jared alone with his thoughts until they arrived back at his apartment.
“I want a shower tonight,” he told her without preamble.
“But—”
“No, buts. I’ve had enough sponge baths. I want the real thing.”
She eyed his casts. “I suppose I could rig something to cover those.”
“Do, because one way or another I’m taking a shower.”
“All right, but let’s wash your hair in the sink. It’ll be easier.”
She gathered shampoo, a towel, a comb, and a bar stool from her apartment for him to sit on. “Let me know if the water’s too hot or cold.”
“I will.” He bent his head over the sink and soon she was lathering his hair and scrubbing his scalp. As she leaned over, her arms around him, she wondered how she’d manage to get him into the shower. If rinsing the soap off the nape of his neck and forehead had become a sensual experience, how would she perform the same task over his entire body?
Finished, she towel-dried his hair. “Would you like to comb it yourself?”
“I’ll do it.” While he was busy, she found two trash bags and gray duct tape.
“The answer to everything,” she said as she brandished the wide roll. Before long, she’d taped one bag over his arm and the other over his leg. “I hope this holds.”
“It doesn’t have to stick for hours,” he said. “Just long enough for us to get the job done.”
Us. She’d wondered if he intended to do this himself or with her help, and now she knew.
Heaven help her.
But he was one step ahead of her. In the bathroom he asked for a towel around his waist and once it hung in place she pulled down his shorts and underwear. Next he sat on the edge of the tub and swung his good leg over the edge. With her support, he stood.
After the water temperature was adjusted and she’d pulled the curtain closed, he flung his towel over the bar.
“This feels so-o-o good.”
She smiled at his obvious pleasure. “I’m glad. Try not to slip on the soap.”
“I won’t. Don’t leave, though.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.” While she couldn’t see him clearly, she could definitely make out his outline and general form through the opaque plastic.
“I’m finished. Can you shut off the water?”
Annie pulled the curtain back far enough to reach the knobs and soon the water slowed to a mere drip. “Here’s the towel.”
“Um, Annie?”
“Yes?”
“It won’t stay in place.” He sounded frustrated.
“Hold on.” She flicked the curtain back and caught a glimpse of a trim buttock before she tucked the edges securely in place. “How’s that?”
“Fine.”
She eyed his wet body. It was hard enough to hold on to him when he was dry, but it would be doubly so if he was wet. “Let’s dry you off so you’re not so slippery,” she said, running another towel over him to soak up the excess moisture.
She felt every inch of his body, but if he noticed that she took her time he didn’t comment. Instead, he remained stoic until she bent down to towel-dry his leg.
“Stop.” His voice sounded pained.
“But you’re still wet.”
“Annie, I’m not made of stone. No man is when a beautiful woman is doing what you’re doing.”
She glanced up and discovered that the towel at his waist couldn’t hide his body’s response to her ministrations. So he wasn’t as unmoved as she’d thought.
He also thought she was beautiful. She’d hold that compliment close to her heart for ever.
“Just get me out of the tub.”
“OK. Here we go.”
Ten minutes later, she handed him fresh underwear and another pair of athletic shorts. “I hate feeling so helpless,” he groused, as she discarded the plastic bags and pulled his clothing into place underneath the privacy of the damp towel. At long last he was dressed enough for modesty’s sake.
She would have liked to have ripped everything off again.
“Can you lie on your side?” she asked.
“What for?” He sounded suspicious.
“A back rub,” she said. “You look like you could use one.”
“I’ll never turn down a massage.”
“Good. I’ll be right back.” She returned from her apartment with a small vial of oil, and rubbed it on her hands.
“My grandfather preferred the unscented,” she said, as she ran her hands across his shoulders. “He said that he hated to smell like a flower.”
“Can’t blame him.”
Annie continued to rub, sometimes gliding her hands across his skin, sometimes kneading the knots in his muscles. Her palms grew warm as she worked her way across his back from left to right and from the base of his skull to his lower spine.
“Does Nate have a big brother?” he asked, after ten minutes of silence.
“No. He’s the oldest, remember?”
“I know that. I was thinking about the Big Brothers-Big Sisters program.”
“I see. No, he doesn’t. Monica put his name on a list, but there aren’t enough volunteers to go around.” This particular social service program was designed for underprivileged children to have another role model in their life. The commitment was only for a few hours a week, but the difference it made in kids’ lives lasted far longer.
“Maybe I can work something out for him.”
“Are you volunteering?” she asked, encouraged by his concern for the boy.
“Unofficially,” he said. “Once I’m back on my feet, we may have to re-evaluate. Who knows what will happen by then?”
“Who knows?” she echoed. Perhaps there was hope for Jared yet.
Jared counted the days until Annie had to return to work. Then he counted them until she finished her stretch of forty-eight hours. He hated the
fact that she put herself through such a grueling pace on his behalf, but he honestly couldn’t imagine how he’d cope without her. While he enjoyed his time with his sisters, it simply wasn’t the same.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Carrie asked the following weekend when she returned by herself.
“Yeah, I do.”
“She’s been good for you. And us.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re different.”
“Being disabled will do that,” he said dryly.
“It’s more than that,” she said. “For the first time I feel like you’re treating us like adults. Even Todd mentioned it after you two talked on the phone.”
He’d remembered Annie’s comment about his siblings not wanting to be treated like children and he’d tried his best to make those changes. Although it hadn’t become second nature, he must have shown enough improvement in holding his own counsel for his sisters and Todd to notice.
“I suspect we have Annie to thank,” she added.
He smiled. “I’d say so.”
In spite of his improved relationship with his family, he chafed at his physical limitations.
“Annie,” he bellowed one afternoon.
She poked her head through the kitchen doorway. “What now?”
“I dropped the television remote.”
“I’ll get it.”
“Don’t bother. There’s nothing worth watching.”
“I’ll turn on your stereo.”
“I don’t want music.”
“OK,” she said evenly.
“And don’t offer any more games. I’ve played Scrabble until my brain’s about to burst and I’ve memorized every mark on your cards.”
“How about fresh air?”
“I’m sick of the balcony.” He sounded like a recalcitrant child, but didn’t care. If something didn’t change, he would go out of his mind. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning the stove.”
“Don’t you ever sit down?”
She chuckled. “Do you know what your problem is?”
“Complete and utter boredom?”
“You’re having antiseptic withdrawal.”
“What?”
“Sure. It’s been almost two weeks since you were in a hospital. You’re so used to the smell of alcohol and disinfectant that you’re going through withdrawal. Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You need a change of scenery, so we’re going to stroll through the ER. If they’re not busy, you’ll have a chance to say hello. And after that, well…” She grinned. “I have another surprise.”
“Will you give me a hint?”
“No, but you’ll need your sunglasses.”
A few minutes later, after she’d stopped at Monica’s for a box, they were on their way. “I feel like a sack of potatoes,” Jared grumbled as she maneuvered him into the front seat.
“It’s only for two more weeks. Then you’ll be so busy that you’ll look back at this time with envy.”
The only thing he’d be envious of would be his time with Annie. Once he graduated to crutches and a walking cast, he wouldn’t need her constant presence.
The idea was as depressing as being a semi-invalid.
Thirty minutes later Annie wheeled him smartly into a relatively quiet ER. He inhaled, realizing just how much he’d missed the familiar sights and sounds. Annie was a mind reader.
Galen came out of room, then stopped short as he saw them. “I hope this is a social visit and not a professional one,” he teased.
“It’s a mental health visit,” she said with a smile. “He was driving us both crazy.”
“It’s good to see you, pal,” Galen said.
“What’s going on? How’s the locum working out?”
Galen shrugged. “She’s OK. When are you coming back?”
“In two weeks.”
“Maybe,” Annie corrected.
“Two weeks,” Jared repeated. “You can bank on it.”
The rest of the staff welcomed him enthusiastically, and as an ambulance pulled into the bay he realized how much he’d missed being a part of the excitement. Annie had diagnosed his problem before he had, which showed how attuned she was to other people.
“Time to go,” she said as the staff raced by to handle the trauma.
“Yeah.” Giving the scene one last, longing glance, he let her wheel him back to her car.
“Are you ready for your next surprise?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Good, because we’re going to the park.”
“The park? What are we going to do there?” He wasn’t the type to be thrilled about feeding the ducks or sitting on a park bench.
“That’s the surprise.”
Instead of parking by the lake, he noted she’d driven toward the outdoor basketball court. “If you think I’m going to play basketball…” he warned.
“You’re not.” She helped him to a nearby bench, then carried over the box she’d stashed in her trunk. “I thought you’d like to try something different. Remote-control cars.”
“Where did you find those?” he asked, as a spark of interest grew.
“They’re Nate’s. I think you’ll be able to operate yours with either your right or left hand.” She set his car on the concrete in front of him. “Try it.”
He wiggled the joystick, pleased to see that he could use the fingers on his right hand. The car shot forward. “This is great.”
“I thought you’d like it. I’ve never played with one of these, but as soon as I’ve practiced, I’ll race you.”
“Never?”
She shook her head. “What about you?”
“I had a truck. It was one of my favorite toys and is packed away somewhere. I’ll have to dig it out and see if it still works.”
He practiced starts and stops and several stunts of turning on two wheels and flipping over. “These are fantastic. Are you ready to race?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The next two hours passed by quickly and Jared was surprised that Annie had won as many of their races as she’d lost. He was even more grateful to realize that his excursions had helped his attitude. While he was still eager to get back to work, the frantic, despairing feeling had disappeared and he owed it all to Annie.
“Thanks again,” he told her on their way home.
“Thank Nate. Without his cars, my surprise wouldn’t have happened.”
“Maybe not, but you took the time for me and I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure.”
This afternoon proved that Annie didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. It also proved something else.
He loved her. He’d tried to ignore it, had tried to pretend it wasn’t happening and had tried to believe it was a simple case of his hormones raging, but he couldn’t deny the truth any longer.
“Annie?” he asked, as she helped him into bed later that evening.
“Yes?”
“Will you stay the night?”
She looked puzzled. “I always do.”
“No.” He patted the left side of the bed. “Here. With me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
He nodded.
“Why now?”
“Because you’re special.”
She bristled. “If you think you can repay me or show your gratitude with sex—”
“This isn’t about sex. I don’t want to be alone any more.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANNIE could hardly believe what he was asking. She’d wanted to hear words to that effect for some time, but before she could respond with an unequivocal “yes,” he had to supply her with some crucial answers.
“And what happens tomorrow?” she asked.
He sounded wary. “What do you want to happen?”
“You say that you don’t want to be alone, but will you feel the same way in a few weeks?”
“Why woul
dn’t I? I love you, Annie. We can give each other so much.”
Her heart pounded with excitement at his declaration, but she refused to soar too high just yet. “What about children?”
He paused. “Our careers both take up a lot of our time. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Admit it. It wouldn’t be a good idea for you.”
“Now, Annie,” he began.
“Don’t Annie me. Why are you so set against having a family of your own? Your sisters are lovely, well-balanced people. I haven’t met your brothers, but if Rick is a military officer, he obviously has some strength of character. Todd owns his own garage and according to Carrie is quite successful. Was raising them to become solid citizens that traumatic for you?”
“I told you that when I was in med school, the kids were on their own a lot. During those first few years Todd got into trouble. Big trouble. He started associating with the wrong crowd and eventually stole a car. He landed in juvenile hall.”
“I’m sure the situation was hard on all of you, but he was a kid who made a wrong choice. It happens.”
“If I’d been around, I could have stopped him from making those mistakes.”
“Maybe, but who knows? The point is, he turned out OK, as did all the others. The girls didn’t give you grief, did they?”
“Not like Todd.”
“See? One out of three isn’t bad. I also don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You and your mother gave your brother a foundation. When he got off track, he knew the right road to take. And your life is different, too. You aren’t as consumed by medicine as you were as a student who had clinical assignments and studies around the clock.”
“My career still takes a lot of my time. My schedule changes with the need. I’m called back on occasion, sometimes I work entire weekends. It wouldn’t be fair to my children to have an absentee father. It’s overwhelming to think that I’m responsible for guiding them into adulthood.”
“You’re responsible for saving people’s lives. How is one any easier or harder than the other?”
“It just is.”
“So you’re going to play it safe.”
He hesitated. “I don’t like to fail.”
“No one does, but if you’d rather be a coward, and miss out on one of the great joys of life, go ahead,” she said hotly. “And to answer your question, Jared. I’d be honored to spend this night and every night with you because I love you too, but I can’t.
Saving Dr. Tremaine Page 16
