by Janet Albert
"You didn't. I had plans to go to my sister's for dinner, that's all. I go there every Friday night unless I'm on call. I called her before I came over here and explained."
"I wouldn't want to ask too much of you. I know you don't..."
Miranda touched Jamie's lips with the tips of two fingers. "Jamie, please don't. I chose to be here. I wanted to be here. I wouldn't say it if it weren't true."
"I believe you." Jamie looked at Miranda and then she started to wiggle and push the covers down. "I need to brush my teeth and I have to pee."
"Can you get there on your own?" Miranda moved so Jamie could get out of bed.
"I think so." Jamie sat up. "Come running if you hear me hit the floor."
"Don't even say such a thing."
Miranda took the dishes out to the kitchen and washed them and when she got back, Jamie was safely back in bed. Her cheeks were rose-tinted and she looked as if the trip to the bathroom had sapped her of any energy she'd gained from a good night's sleep.
"I think your temperature is up again." Miranda handed Jamie a bottle of spring water and another dose of Tylenol. "Here, take these and drink as much of the water as you can. You should try to go back to sleep. It's the best thing for you."
"There's not much else I can do. Sit down here and talk to me for a little while." Jamie patted the edge of the bed, inviting Miranda to sit by her side, which she did. "You've been wonderful to me. I'm not used to being taken care of."
"When I was young, my mother used to spread that smelly Vicks vapor rub all over my chest when I had a cold. You know the one. She'd cover my chest with an old square of flannel that she'd pin to the inside of my pajamas. To this day, I remember that smell, but most of all, I remember how loved and cared for I felt. She'd make a big production of tucking me in and then she'd press her cool lips against my forehead. She swore she could tell if I had a fever that way and she was usually right. My mother was a kind and gentle woman. Still is, I should say."
"What a lovely story. Shouldn't you check my forehead?" Jamie's eyes shimmered.
Miranda lowered her head and pressed her lips to Jamie's hot forehead, keeping them there just a little longer than necessary. Jamie's request had almost made her cry and for some reason, her emotions were running wild and getting away from her and she couldn't stop them. She sat up again and rested her hand on Jamie's forearm. "Tell me what your mother used to do for you when you were sick?"
"My mother died when I was five." A single tear escaped and trickled down Jamie's cheek. "She died in a car accident. I was in the car, too, but I wasn't hurt."
"God, I'm so sorry." Miranda took Jamie's hand and intertwined their fingers. She raised their hands to her lips and kissed Jamie's fingers.
"It's all right. I can't really remember her too well. When I was younger, I had some clear memories of her, but they've all faded away. For some crazy reason, though, I still remember how soft she was and how nice she smelled. Weird, huh?"
"Not at all. It's a sweet memory and you're sweet. What about your father?"
"I never knew my father. They were just high school kids and they weren't really together or anything. I guess I was a mistake."
"No, not you. You could never be a mistake." Miranda kissed Jamie's hand again.
"That's what I used to think when I was younger."
"Who raised you then?"
"My mother's older sister, Marie. She rescued me from foster care. She was kind and she did a good job raising me, but she wasn't all that affectionate or nurturing. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I didn't have it so bad."
"Where does your aunt live now?"
"She died of breast cancer about five years ago."
"I'm sorry again. Do you have any other family?"
"Not that I know of. I guess I'm pretty much alone in the world."
"I didn't know that. We never talked about family."
"No we didn't. You mentioned your mother. What about your father?"
"Both my parents are alive and doing quite well. They're still married and they still live in North Carolina, near Raleigh." It had never entered Miranda's mind that Jamie might not have had any family. She fought an overwhelming urge to lie down next to Jamie on the bed and hold her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
"Are you all right?" Jamie asked.
Miranda could only nod. "I..." Miranda opened her eyes and met Jamie's. "I didn't know you were so alone in the world. Those things I said about you..." Tears filled her eyes. "If I could only take them back. You don't know how much I wish I could." She gasped, no longer able to hold back the tears.
"Miranda, don't. Please don't. That's all behind us now."
A sob escaped as Miranda asked, "Are you sure?"
"Definitely." Jamie sat up and wrapped her arms around Miranda, holding her as close as their respective positions would allow. "Please don't cry," she whispered, her hot cheek molded to Miranda's cool one. "Just breathe with me."
Miranda wasn't sure whose heart was pounding harder or which of them was to blame for the nearly imperceptible trembling of their joined bodies. Jamie's soft breasts pressed against hers, and Miranda absorbed the heat of her feverish body. She felt a kind of energy flowing between them and something else, something far more powerful. It reached inside and ripped her apart, leaving her exposed, bleeding and stripped of any pretense of control. Having no other choice, she wept in Jamie's arms.
"Don't, please don't." With one hand, Jamie held her close and with the other, she rubbed Miranda's back as she rocked her gently. "Shh, it's all right." They clung to each other and when Miranda stopped crying, Jamie let her go. "This isn't just about my mother, is it?" she asked.
Miranda grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, blew her nose and dried her eyes. "No, not entirely. Some of it, but not all of it. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what it's about. What happened to you touched something inside of me. It's been so long since..." Miranda looked away. "You were so young when you lost your mother."
Jamie eased herself back onto the pillow. "Too young, but I'm okay with it, now. I have a few pictures of her. There's one over there on my dresser in the silver frame."
"I wondered who that was. She was very pretty."
"She sure was. My aunt told me a lot of stories about when they were young and all of that. My mother was smart, she had a good sense of humor and she loved to have fun. My aunt also told me my mother adored me."
"Of course she did." Miranda met her eyes again. "She loved you." Who wouldn't?
"I know that now. I used to think I did something wrong and that was why God took her from me. In high school, I got depressed and my grades started to go down the tubes. It got so I refused to leave my room. My aunt took me to a therapist who helped me work through my feelings and talking to her helped me a lot."
"You seem pretty together to me and I think you're probably a lot like your mother." Pretty and smart and fun and loving.
"Thanks, I suppose I'm well-adjusted, compared to some people."
"Compared to most people I know. I think you're pretty special."
"Do you?" Jamie paused. "I feel the same way about you, Doctor."
"I'm glad." Miranda smiled and blew her nose again. "Listen, I need to go home for a while. I have some things I have to take care of. Why don't you try to get some more sleep? I want you to drink as much water as you can and if you feel hot again in three or four hours, take three more Tylenol. I'll put everything by your bed so you can reach it."
"Okay."
Seeing the sadness in Jamie's eyes and understanding that Jamie didn't want her to go and that she wouldn't ask her for anything, Miranda said, "I'd like to come back later if that's okay with you? I don't want you here alone and I don't want to be home alone either. All I'll do is worry about you and wonder how you are."
"You have no idea how much I want you here." Jamie's eyes were watery all over again. "I know, don't say it. I'm pathetic."
"We both are, I'm afr
aid." Miranda got up and gathered her things. "I'll pick up dinner for us and I'll help you take another bath later, if you need me to."
"That sounds like a perfect plan to me. The only thing that would make it more perfect is if I felt better. Take my keys from the dresser, so you can let yourself back in." Jamie pulled the covers up and turned onto her side.
Miranda grabbed the keys and slid them into her jeans pocket. "Call me if you need me. I left my cell phone number on the dresser so you wouldn't have to go looking for it." Miranda came over and stood next to the bed. "See you later, okay?"
"Okay. I'll be here."
Chapter Twenty-Two
JUST AFTER SIX that evening, Miranda returned to Jamie's apartment, put away the food and groceries she'd brought with her and went into the bedroom to check on her patient. Jamie was on her side in the bed, right where Miranda had left her. "Jamie? It's me," she said, shaking Jamie's shoulder gently, so as not to alarm her.
Jamie turned over, blinked and rubbed her eyes. "Hi, Doc."
"Hi to you." Miranda touched her forehead, thinking how good it was to see her. "You feel much cooler. How are you feeling in general?"
"I feel better when my temperature is down but overall, I still feel pretty lousy. I still have a headache off and on and a lot of body aches. I slept all day except for once when I went to the bathroom and took more medicine. I would never have believed I could sleep this much."
"You need to. You may not feel it, but you look a little better to me."
"How about you? Are you okay?" Jamie asked.
"I'm fine," Miranda answered, knowing why Jamie had asked.
"Good. Did you do everything you needed to do?"
"Yeah, I did my laundry, paid some bills, got groceries...you know, the usual stuff."
For a minute, Miranda just searched the contents of Jamie's eyes, looking for clues, for answers, for anything that would ease her longing.
"I'm really glad you're here." Jamie started to get out of bed. "I think I feel good enough to take a shower by myself. Why don't I do that now and get it done with?"
"Sure, go ahead, but give me a yell if you need help. While you're doing that, I'll get our dinner ready. We're having homemade chicken soup and fresh baked rolls and later on, we'll have apple crisp and vanilla ice cream for dessert."
"Mmm, that sounds great. Did you make the soup?"
"I'm afraid not. I bought everything on my way over here. It's all from my favorite gourmet market, though, so it'll be good."
"Don't they call chicken soup Jewish penicillin?"
"They do and don't knock it, it works. It's just what you need."
"Hey, I'm for anything that will make me feel better. Anything."
"I also picked up a couple of movies. One's a new lesbian film and the other one's a new release I've been wanting to see. I didn't know if you would feel good enough to watch them, but it will give me something to do if you fall asleep on me." She showed Jamie the DVD cases.
"They both look good. I haven't seen either one." Jamie went to the dresser and picked out a change of underwear. "If it weren't for the way I feel, I'd have to say this is my idea of a perfect Saturday night."
"I agree." Miranda put the movies next to the television.
"It feels good to get out of that bed. I think I'd like to sit up for a while and eat in the kitchen. You don't mind if I eat in my pajamas, do you?"
"Well, I don't know. I guess we can make an exception this once. You join me in the kitchen when you're done. I should have everything ready by then."
About an hour later, after they'd finished dinner, they returned to the bedroom. Jamie got into bed and Miranda put the lesbian film in the DVD player and kicked her shoes off. "Mind if I get up on the bed next to you? I'll stay on top of the covers."
"If I were you, I wouldn't ask such a loaded question. You might not like the answer." Jamie grinned. "I'm completely aware that if I weren't sick, we'd never be on this bed together. You're only doing it because you know you're safe."
"Am I safe? That's too bad." Miranda teased as she hopped onto the bed with the remote in her hand. "It's not going to be easy for me to be on the bed next to you, you know. You're pretty hot. Too bad it's only because you have a raging fever."
"Just what I need, a funny doctor. Just start the movie, will you, and please do not get insulted if I fall asleep during it. I'm fading fast."
"You sleep anytime you need to. I'm just happy to be here." The women in the movie were appealing and when their growing attraction culminated in a passionate love scene, Miranda felt sexually stimulated. Being this close to someone she was attracted to only served to intensify her reaction. Jamie had stayed awake for the entire movie, although she gave no indication that it had affected her in the same way. Their bodies rested no more than an inch or two apart at any given point, an arrangement that was becoming intolerable to Miranda. Searching for some relief, she moved away a little, hoping Jamie wouldn't notice.
Before the next movie, Miranda went into the kitchen to get their dessert, hoping the activity would help her shake off some of the nagging desire. After they finished eating, she cleared the dishes and went back into the bedroom to watch the second movie.
"How are you holding up, Jamie?" Miranda climbed up onto the bed.
"I feel exhausted." Jamie reached out, rested her hand on Miranda's arm and looked at her with red, weepy eyes. "Thanks for the food and for everything you've done for me. Why don't you go home and get some rest. I've taken up enough of your time."
"I don't want to leave you." Miranda hesitated, the admission not easy for her. "And I don't want to be alone. Can I stay here with you tonight?"
"Sure. Stay as long as you want. God knows, I love having you here. If I'm sleeping and you change your mind, just go. You don't have to wake me."
"I won't change my mind." Going home might have been the wisest thing to do, but Miranda had compelling reasons other than her concern for Jamie that drove her to stay. She wanted to lie in bed next to Jamie. She wanted to touch her and she wanted to feel alive, the way being close to Jamie made her feel.
During the second movie, Jamie started to drift in and out and about half way through it, she turned over on her side away from Miranda and fell asleep. Near the end of the film, Miranda fought to keep her eyes open and as soon as the credits starting rolling, she turned off the television and the light and fell asleep almost instantly.
In the middle of the night, Miranda woke up to find that she'd curled her body against Jamie's warm back, her arm over the top of the covers somewhere between Jamie's chest and her waist. Embarrassed to find herself in this position once again, she lifted her arm and tried to move away without disturbing Jamie. Why do I keep doing this?
"What's the matter?" Jamie murmured.
Miranda held still. "I woke up and I was holding you. I didn't know I was doing it. I must have been sleeping." Miranda began to pull away. "I'm sorry."
Jamie reached behind her and grabbed Miranda's arm, holding her so she couldn't pull away. "Don't go. Stay here, please." She glanced back at Miranda. "Please get under the covers and hold me. I want to be close to you. I promise I won't attack you or anything. I'm way too sick for that."
Miranda's resistance deserted her and she was left with no viable protest. She slid under the covers, spooned her body against Jamie's back and wrapped her arm around Jamie's waist. With a sigh, she inhaled the sweet scent of Jamie's hair, finding it hard to catch her breath. Being this intimate with Jamie felt as comforting as it had before, but this time her body caught on fire and she couldn't blame it on a sexy movie scene. She wanted Jamie, wanted her with every fiber of her being and she could no longer deny it.
The flames blazed even hotter when Jamie grabbed Miranda's hand and held it to her chest, between her breasts. Miranda's fingertips touched the edge of softness and she knew if she moved even a fraction of an inch, she'd be touching Jamie's breasts. Every cell in her body was reaching for Jamie, craving
contact and she wondered if Jamie felt her quivering body or heard her pounding heart.
THE NEXT MORNING, when Miranda opened her eyes, they were both on opposite sides of the bed facing away from each other. Neither of them said anything about how physically close they'd been during the night. After breakfast was over, Miranda helped Jamie back into bed. "You look better, today."
"I feel better and I don't feel as hot, at least not right now."
"Your eyes look brighter," Miranda observed, tucking her in.
"Thanks to you. Who else has their own private doctor?"
"I'm glad I could be here for you." Miranda sat on the bed. "I have to go home. I have some reading to do for work and I promised my sister I'd come for dinner."
"Oh...okay." Jamie's voice barely reached a whisper.
"Do you think you'll be all right here on your own? I won't go if you need me."
"No, don't do that. I'll be okay. You've done so much for me, already." Jamie held Miranda's hand in hers. "I don't know what I would have done without you. I can't tell you how grateful I am."
"Thanks. I'm also grateful to you."
"Really? Why?"
"You helped me. Being here with you made me feel better, too. I can't explain it. I just feel good when I'm with you."
"So do I, feel good I mean...when I'm with you."
"That makes me happy, Jamie. You make sure you stay in bed and rest. I left you some food and there's plenty for you to drink. Make some tea later on and don't forget to drink a lot of fluids. Doctor's orders."
"Yes, Doctor."
"I don't think you should go to work for another two or three days. Not until you feel up to it at any rate. If you need a doctor's note, I..."
"No. I'm not worried about work. This is my last week, anyway."
"Okay. Now listen, Jamie, I want you to call me on my cell if you need me or if you just want to talk-- anytime." Miranda let go of Jamie's hand and stood up.
"I will. Have a good time at your sister's."