by Renee Lovins
Dammit, dammit, dammit
The mental cussing didn't change anything as Chris turned to look at me. I couldn't read his expression at all.
"So, you were planning on going home and just being by yourself?"
I couldn't look at him, instead focused on my fingers. "I'll be fine. It's just a broken leg and I'll just curl up and take it easy for a few days. He said it was very unlikely anything was actually wrong. I can handle a few days at home."
He just looked at me, and a half-smile tilted his lips. "Let's get you packed up to go."
It always seemed that getting out of the hospital took ages, and by the time we left it was after midnight.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't think it would take this long."
"Not worried about. Already let my office know I wouldn't be in tomorrow."
Stress ramped up in my body. "You won't get in trouble for that will you?" All I wanted was to fall down into the blackness that beckoned med. I was so tired of paying attention to other things, to being the one who dealt with stuff. I just wanted to close my eyes and not deal for a while.
A half laugh slipped out as he glanced at me. "Remember, I own my own business. If anything they will be delighted at having a day without me there."
Oh, yeah.
I felt a bit stupid, he had told me that, but the shot the doctor gave me had made it hard to put thoughts together. So I gave up and just floated, it felt so good to just not think. The car's engine turning off roused me from my fuzziness. I blinked looking around, then blinked again, but I couldn't get what I saw to resolve into my driveway and house. The car door opened and Chris looked at me.
"Come on, sleeping beauty. Let's get you settled and you can pass out."
"This isn't my house?" It was a question, because right then I just didn't know anything, except I hurt, and I just wanted to drift away.
"Nope. Mine. Lana has the spare room set up for you. So come on."
"But you were supposed to take me home." It came out in a whine, but I couldn't care. Pain and darkness were battling each other, and I was so tired of fighting.
"I'm not about to let anyone I know, much less care about, go home alone in your condition. You'll be safe here." His voice remained soft, but unyielding, as he helped me out of the car.
Part of me whimpered in relief, the idea of letting someone else deal with this sounded like heaven. But why would he do this for me?
"You don't owe me anything." The effort of speaking the words, of not just letting go and let someone else deal with everything for a while drained me.
"No. This isn't about owing, or wanting anything. This is about being a decent human being and helping a friend."
The words shattered the last of my defenses and I gave in. We had managed to limp up to his front door when it opened and a vaguely familiar woman appeared.
"Wow, she looks awful."
"You are so reassuring, Lana. She was in a car accident, a bad one. What did you expect?"
"Sorry. Come on, I've got the room ready for her."
The walk was a blur of things I didn't have time to focus on, interpret, or anything else. But the bed looked wonderful. A queen size, the covers pulled down, with soft green sheets waited for me. Chris helped me sit down, then lowered himself to my level.
"Do you need to use the restroom or anything?"
I blinked a few times, trying to think, then shook my head barely and flinched at the pain that caused.
"Oh, sweetheart." He helped me out of the disposable shoes they had given me. My clothes had been destroyed trying to make sure I wasn't seriously hurt, and the blood from my nose and other scrapes had not helped. The hospital had given me some scrubs, and grippie socks. He leaned me back onto the bed, it smelled of lavender, and arranged the covers over me.
"Heather, we set up a baby monitor. We still had them in a box. If you call out, I'll hear. Don't try to get up by yourself. I'll get your meds in the morning. Go to sleep."
I closed my eyes in agreement, sleep sounded like heaven. I felt the brush of his lips on my forehead and heard the door close as he left. Then there was blessed nothingness.
6
A sound pulled me from the best sleep I'd had in over a year. No dreams, no thoughts, just darkness. I wanted to go back. And that terrified me. I forced my eyes open and tried to make sense of what I saw. Memories from last night started to piece together and I remembered yesterday.
"Mrs. Lewis, you okay? You need anything?" Lana stood in the doorway, sunlight filling the room behind her.
"I think," my voice sounded hoarse, and the urgent need to pee assaulted me. "Bathroom?"
"Here," she said, her voice echoed a bit as she stepped into the room and opened another door I hadn't noticed that lead to a small bathroom.
"Thanks." I tried to sit up, and almost cried out as my body protested every movement. Pain I hadn't been aware of made itself known and I froze unable to move either way.
"Here, let me help." Lana appeared at my side, using her strength I managed to stand up. We shuffled me to the bedroom, trying not to put too much weight on my leg. "Can you use the toilet by yourself?"
I didn't care if I was dying, I could figure out how to go pee alone.
"Yeah. Give me a minute."
"Sure." She stepped back out and I took in my surroundings. Two doors, a shower, a toilet and sink. Nothing fancy. I turned and managed to pull down the scrubs, the no underwear made it easier. Dropping to the toilet, I sighed in relief, then proceeded to make myself feel much more comfortable. Getting back up and pulling up the pants took energy, and by the time I was done I just wanted to go back to sleep. The overwhelming exhaustion was familiar, and I had too much experience fighting past it. Grief often feels like a wet blanket of pressure draped over the top of you. You learned not to give in. The pain however needed to be dealt with. A quick glance in the mirror told me I looked like an extra from a natural disaster movie. The black eyes were livid, and I could see bruises forming on my neck, and had seen the ones on my legs where they had slammed into the steering wheel. All in all, I looked awful. And I didn't have the energy to care.
"Lana?"
The door to the bathroom opened, revealing Lana standing there with a slight smile. "Hey, feel better? Want some food, coffee?"
"Yes, and pain pills. Please tell me your dad managed to get them."
"He's getting them now. Come on, I have food waiting."
The act of getting to the kitchen became an exercise in pain, and I moaned as I slumped down on a chair. My body was not happy with me as it felt like one large bruise.
"Here." Lana set coffee in front of me, as well as a bottle of cream and some packets of sweetener. I focused on the life giving brew and soon had it doctored to my taste. A minute later a slice of an omelet sat in front of me. "I hope you like eggs. It's really the only thing I can cook, plus I figured you needed more than a piece of fruit."
"Thanks, it's fine." I knew I sounded lackluster, but I ate with relish. It tasted good and I was starving. It took a minute for it to dawn on me I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. That might have been part of the problem. "Shouldn't you be in school?"
"School break."
When I felt a bit steadier with the caffeine and calories, I focused on her sitting at the table watching me, and suddenly felt self-conscious. In spare scrubs, the same I'd slept in, unwashed and bruised, it took everything I had to look her in the eye.
"I'm sorry I dropped into your life like this."
Lana tilted her head with a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
"Well asking your dad for help, then crashing here. I should have called someone else." Not that I had any idea of who I could have called besides a co-worker and that would have been even more awkward.
Lana snorted, looking down at her coffee. "He would have been hurt if you had. It's been a while since I've seen him as happy as he's been lately. Besides, I'm on break this week and getting to know you makes it a double win for me."
"You aren't mad I'm dating your dad?"
"Why would I be mad? I think it's great." Her voice dropped. "He did tell me you were a widow though. Was that why you were so sad the day I met you?"
"You mean the day I hit your car? Kinda." I paused using the time to take another mouthful of wondrous caffeine as I sorted through my thoughts. "Certain things are still triggers for me, and grocery shopping is still one of the worst. It was something John, my husband, loved to do. Organizing the coupons and the lists. And every time in in there all I see are all the married couples shopping and it just feels like I'm being cut." I shrugged, then whimpered as my shoulders and stomach told me they didn't like that at all.
"Ah. I'm sorry?"
"You didn't kill him. And it is what it is. But none of that justifies me disrupting your life. You don't want your parents to get back together?"
"God, no. Look I love my mom, but she's a career corporate ladder climber, and appearance and status is everything to her. Besides, they've been divorced since I was eight. I see her on weekends and she makes sure they are fun and wonderful, but her life isn't anything I could handle on a regular basis. She thrives off of the politics and perfect impression. Dad is more real and puts me first. Mom puts herself first always."
"Ah." I didn't know what else to say.
"You're not what I expected."
I froze, then lifted my eyes to look at her, figuring I looked like a frightened rabbit. "What do you mean?"
Lana shrugged. "I'm not sure. Dad hasn't dated much, really only once or twice since they divorced, and that was years ago. I guess I always thought he'd either go exactly for someone like mom or the exact opposite. And you're neither. You have a job, take care of yourself, but you had a marriage, and I kinda get the feeling it was a good one. So, just not who I thought Dad would date. But he's been happier lately than I've seen him in a long time." She ducked her head, color rising up her neck making it splotchy. "Sorry, my mouth runs away with me."
My coffee provided a distraction and gave me time to think. "It was a good marriage. Not a perfect one. I mean he was a man." Lana smiled a bit at that. "But I do love him and miss him."
"Do?"
"I suspect I'll always love him." My answer was simple, there wasn't any other answer.
She frowned, worry flashing in her eyes. "Then how can you fall in love with my dad?"
I was very glad I had already swallowed my mouth full of coffee or I might have done a spit take.
"Well, for one. I'm not in love with your dad." Yet. "But have you ever lost a pet?"
"Lost? You mean had one die?"
"Yes."
"Sure. My cat, Pringles, she died when I was about twelve." Her voice caught the tiniest bit.
"Did you get another one?"
"A dog, yes. Condor is out back."
"Do you love your cat any less because you now have a dog?"
"Of course not, she's my…" she trailed off, an odd look on her face. "Oh."
"Oh." I shrugged this time, and held up my empty coffee cup, pain making me more exhausted than I thought possible. Lana got the hint and grabbed it to refill. "As for the rest, I'm just me. I don't know if this is going anywhere or not. But I'd like to find out."
"What about me? What are your plans for me?" Her voice sounded younger and smaller, even as she set the coffee down in front of me.
I burst out laughing, then sob as every muscle in my chest screamed at me for doing something so stupid. Lana looked at me her eyes wide, face pale.
"Can I do anything, how can I help?"
My hands flat on the table, I breathed in and out shallowly, trying to not let the pain overwhelm me, until I could breathe normally again.
"Laughing bad, so noted." I refocused on her, forcing a smile that I only partially faked. "Lana, I don't have any plans for you. I'm not the evil stepmother. If something does, by some miracle, happen with your dad, I'm open to being your friend. But I've never been a mom, and you A - already have one, and B- don't need one anymore. So hopefully we'll like each other? I mean I don't have any poison laced apples lying around if that's what you're asking."
Lana started giggling, and I just smiled slightly, glad I had at least not ruined anything. The door opening had me glancing down the hallway, and I was inordinately relieved to see Chris with a white pharmacy bag walking towards us.
"Lana, have you been torturing our guest?"
"I would never," her reply instant and indignant. "Just cause I made her laugh and hurt herself does not qualify as torture."
Chris looked between both of us, and I smiled, though it must have been a bit wan from his reaction.
"I think you want these." His voice gentle as he cracked open the bottle and put two white oblong pills in front of me.
"Oh, bless you." My voice uttered the benediction as I grabbed the pills and threw them in my mouth, chasing it with more coffee. The pain had risen to the point that I was not crying only by sheer force of will.
I knew from experience I had at least thirty minutes before they kicked in, but all I wanted to do was lay back down, my energy level had completely disappeared.
"Heather, you okay? Well, as well as can be expected." Chris asked, looking at me a bit worried.
Blinking up at him I fought to focus. The odd color of blue gray of the scrubs I wore caught my eyes, at the same time I remembered I had no clothes.
Great, I get to lean on him and his family even more.
The thought had bitter undertones, but it couldn't be helped. The fact I had to lean on someone I still barely knew ate at me, not matter how much I wanted to get to know him. But I sure as hell couldn't stay in ill-fitting scrubs for the next week, and the idea of a car ride with as bad as I hurt made me want to cry.
"Lana, feel like making up the torture you inflicted on me?" I tried to keep my tone light, but pain kept rising the longer I stayed upright.
A smile twitched at her lips but she nodded. "Sure."
"My keys are in my purse." I knew my purse had come home with me, as it had my phone, insurance cards, and credit cards which I had used at the ER. "Would you go to my house, get me some clothes, comfy ones, some toiletries, and my slippers. And my Kindle?"
"Oh, of course." Awareness flashed in her eyes as she looked at me, and a hint of a blush might have colored her cheeks. "Yeah, I don't think anything I have would fit you."
That produced a snort of amusement from me. She was a typical teenager, all long legs and lanky body, reality hadn't let her know yet she couldn't eat anything she wanted. I had curves, too many and while there was only an inch or so difference in our heights, I was probably twice her weight.
"Thanks." I looked up in time to catch Chris flashing a smile full of pride at his daughter, one that made her cheeks flush..
"I'll get you the address," his voice quiet. Turning his eyes on me, I wished I didn't look like what I was, an accident victim. But he didn't seem to notice. "You look like you're ready to crawl back in bed."
That sounded so good, and I nodded slightly, avoiding any fast or big movements had become paramount.
"Come on, I'll help you then send Lana on her errand of mercy." His hand was strong and sure as I used it to lever me up from the chair, which took way more effort than it should have. But then right now my life seemed to take too much effort. I knew I had a lot of crap to deal with, insurance, hospital bills, etc, but I refused to even think about them until I was home. At least work was taken care of for now.
I shambled, with Chris's help, back to the bedroom, and I all but collapsed on the bed. The only thing preventing me was I suspected how much it would hurt if I did.
"Here," his voice held soft amusement as he helped me lay back on the bed, and pulled the sheet over me. "Get some more rest."
My lids closed of their own volition, and I heard a shuffle of clothes and then lips brushed across my forehead.
"Get better, Heather." His tone held odd things I didn't know how to interpret, but then my o
wn body pulled me down and I went without a fight.
7
A soft knock pulled me up from my sleep, and I croaked out a response. "Yes?"
The door cracked open and Lana stuck her head in. "You've been asleep for six hours. I figured you probably need another pill and I have some clothes for you."
"In," the single word came out cracked as I struggled to sit up.
Lana slipped into the room with pills, water, and my stuff. She'd done a good job, my leggings, soft bra, and long shirts, and underwear. Best part was my toothbrush and other necessaries.
Twenty minutes later with my clothes on, and underwear, I felt at least more human than I had in a while. The pills were swallowed, but for now the best part was clean teeth, face, and clothes. Food and more water sounded really good. The broken leg was in a walking cast, so for the most part I wasn't that worried about it. The twenty steps from the guest room to the kitchen didn't bug me much, other than the awkwardness in general.
Chris looked up as I clomped in, there was no way he could have missed me coming with as much noise as I was making. But the smile on his face as his eyes locked onto mine made me feel like I had dressed up, instead of managing to brush my teeth and my hair.
"Hey, you doing better?"
It didn't seem like the casual question, so I thought about it as I sat down. "Hurt, leg, body, just in general. But, I think so. I'm still in pain, but I can think about other things." My nose managed to identify the smell that had teased my nose since I left the room. "Is that pot roast?"
"Good. And yes it is. Hungry?"
"I think so, but I won't know for sure until I start eating. Still a lot out of it." My throat cracked as I sat down. "Could I get something to drink?"
"Of course. Water?"
I really wanted wine, but right now that wasn't possible. "That would be great."
A minute later a large glass of water, some bread, and a generous serving of pot roast and we were sitting down to a really homey meal. I looked around, a slight frown.
