Snowstorm Confessions. Rachel Lee
“Oh. I don’t know if people will like that. What kind of face-lift?”
“Paint. Brick sidewalks. Streetlights...”
Well, none of that sounded exactly awful, she thought. If that’s all that was involved. She waited, but his thoughts seemed to have drifted elsewhere.
“Great mountain,” he said, then resumed sipping. It appeared to be getting a little easier.
“I love those mountains. I don’t know if I want to see them shredded by ski runs.”
“Not visible.”
“What’s not visible?”
He sighed. “Not from down here.”
“Oh.” All of a sudden she wished it were easier for him to talk. She wanted to ask him all kinds of questions about what DEL intended to do up there.
“Hurts,” he said, this time sounding angry.
“Where?”
He just looked at her like, Isn’t it obvious?
She glanced at the clock. “It’s too soon for more pain meds, Luke. Another half hour. I guess you feel like you’re being hammered.”
“No joke.”
“Soon,” she assured him. “Very soon.”
He sighed, and his eyes closed as he drifted away, a result of the concussion most likely. Or maybe the remaining morphine in his system.
“I lost you,” he said, then passed out again.
“You threw me away,” she answered quietly. The real pain in her heart that had never gone away, the certainty that he had thrown her away. She was glad he didn’t hear her.
Bri spent the night on the couch in the living room in case Luke needed something. He was able to tend to his most personal needs, so she didn’t have to manhandle him down the hall to the bathroom, a relief. She had no doubt she could have done it, but it wouldn’t have been fun for either of them.
By morning, though, a thought had occurred to her. She needed to look after the man for at least a week, maybe longer, depending on how soon he could travel. His cast went from his ankle to above his knee, which meant that wasn’t likely to be soon.
With a sigh, she picked up the phone and called Jack. “I need a safety bar in my bathroom,” she told him. “Can you do that?”
“Sure,” came the prompt response. “When do you want it?”
“As soon as possible. Thanks, Jack. You’re a good guy.”
“Always glad to help,” he responded cheerfully.
And he was a cheerful person. He worked at the hardware store, but picked up side jobs as a handyman. She’d lost count of the times he’d helped her out with something.
She tried making some very soft scrambled eggs for Luke. The man needed something for subsistence besides broth and milk shakes.
He was wide awake when she carried the bowl and spoon into the living room. “Good morning,” she said.
“Morning.” He looked at the bowl.
“Scrambled eggs,” she explained. “No chewing. How’s that jaw feel?”
“Better.”
She supposed that was debatable. It didn’t look any less swollen, but maybe it was on the inside. “Time for your pain pill, too. Water?”
“Please.”
“You want to try to feed yourself?”
“Yeah.”
So she raised the head of his bed, pulled the table over, adjusting its height, and left him to it while she went to get him a glass of water with a straw.
When she came back, he’d already put away half the eggs. “Good,” he said, with what appeared to be an attempt at a smile.
“More where those came from. Just let me know.”
He managed to get the pill down, too. “Coffee?” he asked hopefully.
She hesitated. “I’ll have to cool it down. I don’t know how lacerated the inside of your cheek is, either. It might really sting.”
“Coffee,” he repeated. “Please.”
Puppy-dog eyes, she thought. When had Luke learned to make puppy-dog eyes? Damn, he was tugging her heart strings.
At least she had plastic straws. “Iced coffee,” she suggested. “You have to drink through a straw right now.” She wondered if he had any idea of how much egg he had on his face right now. Probably not. She grabbed a napkin and wiped it gently away.
“Won’t always be like this,” he said.
She wondered if that was a promise or a threat. “No, you’re getting better. I’ll get that coffee.”
She made the iced coffee in a plastic cup, then froze. He must need a sponge bath by now. Oh, wasn’t that going to be fun. But it needed to be done before she changed his sheets.
She didn’t want to do it. She could do it for any patient without a second thought, but this was different. This was a body she had once loved and made love with. Awkward. Awful. She closed her eyes a moment, resisting the idea but knowing it was important for his comfort, if not for his health. He was beginning to get a little ripe.
Oh, hell. She carried the coffee back to him and found he’d nearly finished the eggs. She had to wipe his face again.
He enjoyed the coffee, though, and it didn’t seem to cause him too much discomfort. Of course the pill was probably starting to kick in. Maybe it would make him safely woozy for a sponge bath.
“More eggs?” she asked.
“Not now. Later. Thanks.”
She sat sipping her own mug of coffee, waiting for him to start looking a bit drowsy. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be happening.
“How are you feeling?”
“Been through a cement mixer.”
“I imagine it feels that way. Listen, I need to change your bedding, and your gown. I want to do it when the pain pill is working its strongest.”
“’Kay.”
“But...” She bit her lower lip. “I need to give you a sponge bath, too. Will you cooperate?”
Damn him, she thought she saw a wicked twinkle in those gray eyes. “Never thought you’d ask.”
“Damn you, Luke, don’t be a pain. I’ve got to move you around. Clean sheets. Clean body, clean gown. No bedsores on my watch. That’s the beginning and end of it.”
“Yes, Nurse.” But that twinkle seemed to remain. If the rest of his face had been more mobile, the expression probably would have been all over it.
“Luke...”
“I’ll...be good.”
As if he could do much else, she thought irritably. Why was she even bothered by this? Right now he was a helpless slab of meat with a devilish look in his eyes. She’d seen that from eighty-year-olds...although they tried to have the male nurses take care of these things.
“I could call a man to do it.”
“Said I’d be good.” He set the coffee on the table. “What am I gonna do?”
Exactly, she thought. He was utterly helpless, which gave her a momentary flash of pleasure. Luke had never been helpless. Never. Her mind