by Karen Nappa
Sarcastic asshole.
Paula scowled. "Is this a joke to you?"
"Don't mind him, Paula. Sarcasm is second nature to him; the guy just can't help himself." Jim squeezed her hand, and she smiled the beautiful smile that was only for him. He needed to get that ring.
Paula was relieved when Dr. Lewis announced he had to continue his rounds and would see Jim before surgery. The way the man looked at her and the tension between him and Jim gnawed at her already frayed nerves.
"Melda." His voice had regained its strength, and she directed her eyes from their clasped hands to his face. "I'm thrilled to see you here, but what brings you back? You were pretty definite when you left."
How like him to put her on the spot immediately. She pulled her hand from his to wring hers together as she tried to formulate an answer. She'd managed to say the words when he was unconscious; could she say them again, now? "I'm back because I love you, Sir. My life isn't as good without you. When I heard you were involved in the explosion, my first thought was of you and how I would survive if you died. So I'm back. I was afraid I wouldn't be welcome when you woke up—especially after I claimed I was your fiancée."
"Why did you do that, Melda?" Jim asked.
"It was the only way I could get in your room. They said family only. Your captain and Det. Tolbert came in while I was here. It must be all over the department that we're either engaged, or I'm a lying slut. They didn't see a ring, obviously."
"We'll deal with that later. Right now, I have some things I need you to do."
"Anything, Sir."
"Good girl. I want you to go home, take a shower, and eat a good meal."
She opened her mouth to utter a protest, and he silenced her with a frown. Inside, she whined, 'I don't want to leave you,' but she held her tongue.
He was silent for a couple of seconds as if to test if she would obey him. "I get that you want to stay with me, and as much as I appreciate the sentiment, you need to take care of yourself."
Paula nodded. That made sense.
"Could you go to my place and pack my shaving kit and anything else you think I might need, please? I assume the nurse will know where my keys are."
She nodded again. "Let me check the cabinet here, first." She opened the small door. "Your cell and your keys are the only things here. I guess your clothes didn't survive the combination of the explosion and the emergency department.
"Okay, give me a kiss and go do your chores."
Paula rose without hesitation and bent to press a careful kiss on his dry lips. As she pulled back, his hand gripped the back of her head with unexpected strength and he looked deep in her eyes. "As soon as I'm able, I'm getting a ring on your finger and my collar around your neck."
She sighed in bliss and relief. "Yes, Sir."
"Master," he corrected.
That made her smile. "Yes, Master!"
He let go of her and she walked away. Damn it, giddy as she was, her legs didn't seem to cooperate and her knees wobbled.
Paula managed to reach the nurse's station without a problem. She told Molly she was going home for a bit.
"Don't worry, Det. Stone. Your fiancée will be here when you get back."
Paula held out her hand. "Molly, thank you so much for taking care of Jim and me. I'm really grateful for your help." After they shook hands, Paula dug into her back pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card. "If you're ever in need of help, both my personal cell phone and my office number are on it. Oh, and please call me Paula instead of Det. Stone."
Molly accepted her card with a big smile. "I'll do that, Paula. Good luck. I hope that man of yours recovers fast." She bent forward and said in a low voice only Paula could hear, "So he can go down on his knee to propose properly."
Paula shook her head and was still chuckling when she reached the bank of elevators.
On her way home, Paula contemplated the next few weeks. Jim would need help after his surgery. Paula tapped the steering wheel with her index finger. She might want to move in with him. Although her house was bigger, moving around was difficult because she hadn't finished clearing out all of her grandmother's stuff. Also, her bedroom and bathroom were on the second floor and stairs would probably be impossible for a while.
She parked her car in the driveway and hurried inside. She would take a shower, then make a list of things she had to take care of and call Laura with an update.
Paula dropped her keys on the first flat surface she encountered. She hoped she had clean towels left!
Ten minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom with one towel around her torso and another around her head. A cloud of steam escaped behind her. Damn, she'd forgotten to open the bathroom window and she couldn't leave it open while she was gone. Nothing to do about that now, she would leave the bathroom door open instead.
Paula used the notes app on her phone to make a to-do list. It was hard for her to concentrate on the basics. Was it because she was worried about Jim? She'd never understood why it was so hard for her to organize her personal life when she no such difficulties in her work life. Presented with a case, she had no problem deciphering the main and side issues, but when it came to running a household, she was at a loss. She struggled to figure out the right order for the tasks she'd come up with, and after a few frustrating minutes, she decided to call Laura first.
"How is Jim doing?" Laura asked.
Paula explained about Jim's injuries and the scheduled surgery. Laura listened without saying a word, although she gasped when she heard the details of his injuries. It felt good to be able to talk about the ordeal. "I'm thinking about moving in with him for the time being. I don't see how he'll cope without help, given his injuries."
"I think you're right," Laura agreed, "how are you going to manage work?"
"How is it possible I totally forgot about work?" Paula exclaimed. "I need to call my captain. I have a ton of leave. Maybe I can take it now."
"Sounds like a plan! I'll tell James and Suzie. It sounds like you're going to need all the help you can get."
After thanking her friend, Paula hung up and called Captain Morris.
"Paula, what's happened to you? Are you ill? Why didn't you answer your phone?" Blast, she hadn't checked her messages or voicemails.
"I-I'm sorry, Sir. Something came up. It…it's p-personal. I need to take some time off," she stammered, feeling stupid.
"Well, it's not that you don't have the time available." He cleared his throat and she envisioned him running his hand through his hair. "What's wrong? It's not like you not to show up for work. When I heard how you left without saying anything to anyone and then didn't call in this morning, I didn't know what to think."
How much should she tell him? She didn't have the time or the patience to go into detail about her relationship with Jim. "I'm going to help out a friend with some health problems. I'll be staying at their place."
"Give me the address, just in case. I'd hate to have to put a BOLO out on you if you don't answer your phone again."
She relaxed at Captain Morris' joke and gave him Jim's address.
"Keep me apprised of the situation," he admonished before they ended the call. Once she got off the phone with the captain, she called HR to get the ball rolling on the paperwork.
Paula went to her bedroom and found a couple of clean shirts and underwear that she could have at the hospital so she wouldn't need to come home so much. Instead of eating by herself, Paula decided that she would pick up dinner for both of them on her way back. She wasn't sure what he was allowed to have so she would get him something light. On her way to the restaurant, she remembered she needed to get Jim's stuff. She'd better make that stop first. She crossed two lanes to get to her right turn, ignoring the raised middle finger from the young Latino in a Cadillac. When she entered the condo, she felt like a burglar without Jim present. She went straight to the master bathroom, hoping the feeling would go away. She found his razor, shaving cream, comb, and toothbrush easily enoug
h, but she had to hunt around for the case. His skills at organizing saved her when she thought to check the bathroom cupboard. She also grabbed his sweats so he would have clothes to wear when he came home.
She got back to his hospital room, only to find Jim gone for his pre-surgery CT scan. She put their things away and asked Molly for sheets and a blanket for the fold-out bed. She would have everything ready when Jim got back. He wouldn't win any argument over her staying.
He returned about half an hour later looking like he'd taken on a gang of six perps single-handed. He brightened when he saw her smiling face. "What is that heavenly smell?"
"Chicken soup from Panera. I have a strawberry poppy seed salad with chicken. I thought you might like it better than hospital food."
She helped him sit up higher in the bed so he could eat. He started to eat the soup, but found it difficult to manage and Paula ended up feeding him most of it. He looked tired again from eating. A new nurse came in to introduce herself. "I'm Janice. I've got the night shift. We'll have your meds shortly. Is there anything you need? I see you've had a better dinner than we could provide. That's the last you can eat or drink until after surgery tomorrow."
Jim asked, "Do you know of anywhere we could find a deck of cards? I'm not sleepy yet and I'm really not in the mood for TV."
"The hospital gift shop might have some, but you'll have to hurry. They're only open until seven."
When Paula returned with the cards, they decided to play draw poker. Jim shot her a mischievous smile and said, "Pity, we can't play strip poker here."
Paula called him out, "With your clothes rule, I'd be at a serious disadvantage, so I don't think that's a good choice for us."
"What are we going to use for chips?" Jim asked.
"Let me see. I think I have a bunch of change in my bag." She returned with a coin purse bulging with pennies. "These will do."
Jim chuckled and waggled his eyebrows. "Deal!"
They played four hands, with Jim winning each hand.
Paula studied the last cards and narrowed her eyes at Jim. "Where did that ace of spades go?"
"Are you counting cards?" He widened his eyes, trying to look innocent.
"Are you cheating?" she countered.
"Now, why would I cheat?"
"Because you don't like to lose?" Paula started hunting around his bed. She noticed the edge of a card. peeking out from under the edge of his blanket. She retrieved the missing ace and Paula realized his energy had vanished like a sprinter hitting the one-mile mark in a marathon and she coaxed him into lying down. She dimmed the lights and went into the bathroom to change into her sleep tee. When she came back, he was already asleep, so she set up her bed and lay down, herself.
Jim had hoped for some sleep to help him recuperate from the accident. He was disappointed to discover that hospitals didn't seem interested in letting people sleep. The nurse came in twice and the aide three times, each time waking him whether they meant to or not. They wouldn't give him water or anything else because of the upcoming surgery. He looked over at the window and saw a lump on the bench. It took him a moment to focus and realize it was Paula. She shifted in her sleep and the sheet slipped, showing one shapely leg. He hadn't known she planned to stay. He appreciated her loyalty, but it left him with a dilemma.
He had to find a way to make her leave while he was in surgery. His Melda was a woman of action and he knew she'd get frustrated waiting. Paula would hate to leave him so he had to come up with a good excuse. He would send her on some errands and let her get his home ready for him to move about in it on crutches. That would give her something to focus on, rather than fretting over him.
Jim came to after surgery to find Paula again by his side. This time, she looked freshly showered and was wearing his favorite fuchsia shirt. She was focused on her phone which gave him a chance to take stock of his sub. He was pleased to see she was taking better care of herself now that he was out of danger, but he could see that their separation had taken a toll on her. Her face was washed out, although she concealed it with more makeup than she usually wore and he was sure she had lost weight.
She looked up from her phone. "How do you feel, Sir?"
He tried to speak but only got out a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. He croaked out, "Mouth dry. Water, please?"
"It's ice chips again, I'm afraid." She moved to raise his head enough to give him, "I also have lip balm for you." When he nodded in agreement, she applied it efficiently.
Jim cleared his throat again. "My leg doesn't hurt much at all, but my head doesn't seem quite right."
"That's probably the pain killers. Your friend, Dr. Lewis, warned me the morphine wasn't a good combination with your concussion, but he thought you needed it for your leg right now. The nurse wanted to know as soon as you were awake. Here's the call button."
A man came bustling in less than a minute later. "Hi, I'm Brian. I'll be your nurse until midnight. Do you prefer to be called 'Jim' or 'Mr. Cagney'? I see your friend has already given you some ice and put something on your lips. What's your pain level on a scale from one to ten?
Brian spoke so quickly and covered so many topics, Jim felt like he might get whiplash. "Please call me Jim. I'd like more to drink if that's allowed. My pain is maybe a two, and my head feels kind of fuzzy."
Brian moved like a small tornado, erasing 'Mr. Cagney' and replacing it with 'Jim' on the whiteboard on the wall below the clock. He put his own name where it had space for the nurse. Jim noticed GT's name where it said doctor and another, Dr. Carver, from the ICU. He wondered why he needed two doctors. Brian checked his IV and explained the morphine pump that gave Jim control over his pain relief. "When your pain gets up to five or six, press this button and you'll get another dose. The system will only dispense one at a time, so don't worry about pressing more than once. I need to listen to your chest, and then we'll see about sitting you up."
Jim put up with the cold stethoscope on his chest for the chance to sit up higher. It seemed like he had been lying down for so long that all he could see any more were ceiling tiles. He hoped Brian was as fast with checking his lungs as with everything else. Before he knew it, he was being raised up in bed. "Tell me if you start feeling dizzy," Brian said as he moved the head of the bed up in small steps.
Jim wanted to sit up and momentary dizziness was not going to hold him back. He made it as high as Brian would take him and asked for more water. "Is it possible to get some food? I'm starving."
"That's an excellent sign, Jim, but we have to go slowly. If you do okay with the ice chips, we'll graduate you to clear liquids and I'll see if I can find you some orange juice. Your PT will be here soon."
"Physical therapy already?" Paula asked. "He just got out of surgery two hours ago."
"The sooner the better is the motto with any kind of PT. The rod in his femur makes it possible for him to put weight on it much sooner than in other situations. Today, they'll mostly work on him in the bed, but if he does well with that, they're likely to get him up on his feet briefly," Brian said.
About fifteen minutes later, a giant of a man came in and introduced himself as George, the physical therapist. He towered over Paula at, at least, six foot five but shook her hand gently before he turned to Jim. "I'll be torturing you for the next couple of days. Let's take a look and see what kind of shape you're in."
"Can I stay, or do you want me to go?" Paula inquired.
"If you're going to be around during his recovery, please stay. It will help if you know how to help with things." George began with simple exercises, like having Jim wiggle his toes, and slowly moved up the leg with ankle rolls and movements to keep his calf from weakening. When he reached the knee, he flexed it repeatedly and then straightened it out for leg lifts. Initially, he moved Jim's leg for him, but for the last three reps, he had Jim lift the leg as high as he could.
Jim was starting to feel tired from the exertion. "Is that all for today?" he asked, breathing hard.
"Not quite. I'd like to get you on your feet if you're willing to try."
"Sure. Hearing that gives me a second wind."
George stepped out into the hall and returned a moment later with a walker. "What's that for?" Jim asked. "If I'm going to stand up, I need crutches. Only little old ladies use walkers."
"Then consider yourself a little old lady. A walker provides more stability than crutches do, and until you can satisfy me that you have adequate control and balance, you'll be using the walker."
Jim heard something that might have been a smothered giggle and looked over at Paula. "Are you laughing at me, Melda?"
"Me? No, I would never laugh at you," she said, desperately trying to keep a straight face. Her 'Sir' was implied but unspoken. Jim decided she would get a punishment as he soon as he was able. Laughing at one's Master just wasn't done.
Chapter 16
Exceeding everyone's expectations, Jim was coming home three days after surgery. Not still in the hospital, not going to a rehab facility, but home. He leaned heavily on Chris and James as the men helped him from the car to his home. Paula had gone ahead with his bag and opened the door. She'd moved in two suitcases worth of her stuff yesterday. Chris and James had come over to install a grab bar in his bathroom and check for other possible hazards. They had folded up three throw rugs that Jim might slip on but found little else in Jim's 'less is more' interior design.
Almost all the Club Indigo members had stepped up to help. After her call to Laura, her friend had informed James and Suzie. Suzie, Connor, and Sonja had stocked the fridge and freezer with food; James had informed Chris, who, in his turn, had mobilized the complete crew. Sandra turned out to be a physical therapist and would help Jim with his recovery; Kate had said massage would be good for healing and rebuilding his muscles, and Bob would make himself available if Jim needed help dealing with the emotional aftermath of the explosion. At first, Paula had felt overwhelmed with all the attention, but her protests had been halfhearted. It felt good to have a solid support system.
