My good hand absently scratched through the scruff on my face. I needed to shave soon or it would take me even longer than it already did. I could feel the patches that were more scraggly than others. There was no way to make it even and I'd forced Mom to stop doing it for me. Getting used to the feel of it without seeing it would take a while.
Why do you even care?
I closed my eyes, feeling extremely exposed without my shirt. I couldn't see her, but I didn't want her to see me. Not when my emotions were hanging by a thread. Was she looking at my scars? At the mangled skin of my upper arm and my left side? Was she frowning or grossed out?
I shouldn't care. She was my nurse and I shouldn't care. I should have been a man about it and faced it head on. I. Shouldn't. Care.
But I did.
"Now, let's remove your shorts."
I couldn't stop the words from leaving my mouth, and no matter how childish it sounded, I needed to know. "How disgusted are you? On a scale of one to ten."
She sighed and moved my arm aside so she could reach the waist of my shorts. "That's not a very good joke, Merrick."
"I'm not joking, Grace."
She stopped moving, but stayed close to me. I could feel her quick breaths on the skin of my chest. It was doing things to me that I hadn't felt in a long time.
I must be coming down with something. A fever maybe?
"There is no need for a scale because I'm not disgusted. You're scarred, Merrick, not ruined."
"They're the same thing."
"They aren't," she snapped.
I dropped my head, hoping my eyes were close to meeting hers or at least her face. "Then why does it feel like they are?"
Her small hand touched my cheek, the warmth from her fingers making me ache for more. She cupped my scarred jaw before running her fingers back, behind the damaged skin of my ear. I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to. Not if it meant the moment would be over. Her gentle fingers followed the scarring up to my eye and over my brow. Her touch felt intimate, but more compassionate than anything else.
She hummed softly as her fingertips drifted back down to the scruff on my jaw. "It feels like they're the same because you haven't healed yet. Feels like your life is over because you've lost so much, and it hurts to even breathe." Her hand cupped my cheek again, and I wondered if this was her idea of being professional, because I'd double the pay if it was.
"Grace..." I breathed.
"Being scarred by something so horrible isn't the same as being ruined. You can only ruin yourself, Merrick, and that kind of destruction doesn't leave any visible scars."
I wanted to say something, anything that would make her see me as something other than a damaged man, but I couldn't think of anything. Maybe it was because she didn't really see me that way at all.
"Shorts," she said and helped me lift off the chair so she could remove them. My boxer briefs were left alone, and I felt her move my chair forward until I'm sure I was only a small distance from the shower door.
"I'm going to cover your lap with a towel and remove your underwear, then I'm going to cover your cast and leg."
I nodded, flinching when the towel landed over the semi erection I still had going on. Think of something gross, Merrick.
I pictured everything I could that would possibly gross me out, but Grace would have to leave the house for that to work effectively. She still smelled good and her hands were still on me. I swear I'd been partially aroused for the last week, and it was starting to get to me. Her tiny hands yanked on my underwear as I attempted to help by lifting myself off the chair a little. The soft towel kept me covered, but I couldn't stop my hand from checking to make sure I wasn't pitching a tent.
Grace busied herself with wrapping my arm and leg. Before long, she was lifting me out of the chair. I tried to balance on my good leg and put as much of my weight on it as possible, but I was too busy trying to hold the towel up.
"Help me out, Merrick. Don't worry about the towel, I've got it," she said, her voice strained with the effort of holding me up.
A few grunts and painful groans later, I was finally on the seat inside the shower with nothing but the towel over my lap. We were both out of breath, but I was shocked she could even get me out of the chair let alone through a shower door. "It will get easier once we get the hang of things," she mumbled.
My leg was lifted and propped up on something inside the shower that was never there before. "What's my leg on?"
Grace adjusted me a little more and checked the covers on my limbs before answering. "I snagged another seat from the hospital to make it easier for you. This way you're a little more stable so you can shower by yourself if you want to."
My muscles ached and the throbbing in my arm and leg was almost unbearable, but I couldn't concentrate on the pain. Grace was making it possible for me to take care of myself. I couldn't thank her enough for that.
"Thanks?" I said, shaking my head when it came out as a question.
"You sure about that?" she teased, handing over the removable shower head. Dad had it installed the day after they brought me home, in the hope that I would use it one day. Up until now, I'd barely touched it. Once my fingers securely wrapped around it, Grace let go.
"I am. I appreciate it," I declared, emphasizing the sincerity in my voice.
"You're welcome. I'm only here to help make it easier for you to transition and to make sure you don't do too much damage to yourself in the process."
"You mean the damage I could cause in that stupid chair?"
"Exactly," she said, her voice giving away a smile. "You've been doing better driving the last couple days, though." She turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, then lifted my arm and guided the shower head to its hook on the adjustable slide bar, being sure not to let the water spray us. "We'll start with basics for now. Here is the hook. If you hold the shower head down by the hose part, you can feel it slide into the hook and make sure it's secure."
She made me practice a few times before she was satisfied. It was difficult with the water on, but she assured me that practicing that way would be better since I was going to be showering by myself, for the most part. It was a strange thing to re-learn something I never even thought was necessary before losing my sight.
Once the shower head was secure on its hook once more, she shut off the water and lifted my arm to a shelf next to the slide bar, guiding my fingers to a couple bottles. "The shampoo is in the square bottle," she informed me and waited for me to feel its shape enough to memorize it. She moved my hand to the other bottle, "This one is the body wash. It's round." Again, she waited patiently while I memorized its shape. "And here is a wash cloth. I'll stop at the store tonight and get you a bath sponge. It will lather better, plus, it's easier to hold onto."
She slowly moved my hand back and forth so I could feel where everything was, then she let go and waited for me to do it on my own. The loss of her touch made my brain misfire and my first attempt knocked over both bottles, sending them clattering to the floor. She replaced them and told me to try again. I moved slower this time and was able to find them on my own without sending them crashing again.
"There. You just need to be patient with yourself and the things around you."
I nodded and pressed my lips together. I could do this part, I just needed to practice. Once my left arm was useful, it would be a cinch.
I reached for the bottles once more and one of them fell to my lap.
"I'll let you get that," she stuttered.
Control yourself, Merrick.
Didn't help that I was almost completely naked in front of this woman. It also didn't help that her voice made it harder and harder to suppress my erection. No pun intended.
"Would you mind if I stayed in the bathroom while you showered? I want to be close by in case you need me this time," she declared, casually. Her tone was very clinical and I wondered how many people she had done this for already.
I nodded my permission and she turned t
he water back on. It was when I felt her step around me that I realized I was actually scared to do this alone. I wanted her close by, but no way I was going to admit that and scare her away. I settled for teasing instead. "You just want to make sure I get clean enough, don't you?"
She chuckled and her hand landed on my bare shoulder. "You caught me. I don't trust you enough to get rid of that awful stench without some kind of supervision."
I dropped my head and felt a full on smile stretch across my lips. My first full smile since that awful day. My cheeks ached. Seriously? Had it been that long since those muscles were used? Since I smiled enough to stretch them?
"That right there," Grace whispered. "That's the Merrick I like to see. He's very handsome."
Heat spread up my neck to my face, but I was still smiling. Strange since I knew she was lying out her ass.
"And he blushes, too? Careful, Merrick. You might make people fall for you."
With that, she exited the shower and shut the door tightly. The squeak of her shoes on the bathroom floor was the last thing I heard before I bathed myself for the first time in months.
Chapter Five
Grace
Why did I say that?
Why in the world did I even think that was appropriate to say?
"You might make people fall for you."
It was unprofessional, and it was foolish ... and it embarrassed Merrick. I was sure of it. He was in no position to be on the other end of my flirting, but it came so naturally. Flirting was never my strong point, but being with Merrick, it was more natural than it ever was with Jason, and I wasn't sleeping with Merrick. In fact, I was barely his friend. We argued more than anything and the times we weren't arguing, we weren't speaking.
Why, then, did I feel closer to him than I ever had to anyone else?
That first week was difficult with his constant grumbling and arguments. He refused to try anything new and refused to practice any sort of patience with me or himself. After a few days, it reached the point where quitting would have been a definite possibility and completely justified. I hadn't been able to get through to him and he didn't care if anyone did.
It was clear as day. Merrick didn't want to be fixed because in his mind, it just wasn't possible.
Then he opened up. What started as a minor argument – almost an insult to me – became something else entirely, whether it was intentional or not. We'd both experienced a horrible loss. It was a connection he didn't know we had and it changed everything.
I didn't pretend to understand the horrors he'd seen or the shit he'd been through, but I could connect to the feelings of loss that he dwelled on every day.
It had taken me months to finally be myself again. Even then, it wasn't real. Not until Mom said what she did and showed me that I was only hurting myself.
I didn't act as if I was all better, because I wasn't. I still hurt every day, but it was getting easier to handle. Easier to accept. Locking myself up with dark memories was not going to help me get what I wanted out of life.
The differences were vast when it came to Merrick and what had changed his life forever. I wasn't the one who saw my brothers fall all around me, and I hadn't experienced the kind of pain that leaves those deep scars, both physical and emotional.
I had never seen war so close, and I probably never would. Not like Merrick had.
Spending each day with him helped me understand him a little more. His frustrations were warranted, but the feeling that he wanted to give up so easily, put me on edge. Getting through to him had looked less and less likely, until that day in the bathroom.
Once he started to trust me, being with him each day was like walking out into the sun. It was warm and bright, and I looked forward to the hours I spent watching him adapt to his limitations. I looked forward to watching him conquer his demons.
And the days I wasn't with him, like today, I spent my time doing laundry, reading a new book, and wishing I was with him.
No. At work. Wishing I was at work ... with him ... God, I couldn't even fake it with myself.
I shook my head and slammed the dryer door shut.
"Hey, now. Be nice to my appliances," Mom called from the kitchen. "They need to last or I won't be able to talk your father into getting me new ones later on."
"Sorry, Mom." I tossed the laundry basket into my bedroom and found her sitting in the kitchen drinking her afternoon cup of coffee. "Shouldn't you be at the library?"
She shook her head mid sip and raised her eyebrows. "I came home for lunch. Wanted to make sure you weren't too bored."
I grinned, weakly. Staying busy was easy with Merrick, but she was right. I was bored out of my mind and that wasn't good for anyone.
"I'm fine, Mom." I opened the fridge and stood in front of it, just staring at the contents. This definitely was a hard habit to break. I wasn't even hungry.
"It's Saturday, Grace. Shouldn't you be out of the house? I know that Keara is waiting for you to call her. She misses you."
I sighed and leaned against the counter, looking down at my feet. I wished I hadn't been such a horrible friend over the last year. Once I lost the baby, my desire to talk to anyone just disappeared. I couldn't handle the condolences being sent my way and I didn't want to drag my friends down with me.
That was no excuse to cut off my friendship with Keara. We had been like sisters since junior high when she was the only girl in my biology class that spoke to me. She was also the only other girl in there that actually knew what was going on. We were both good students and neither one of us cared about being popular. Plus, Keara was the only girl I knew that kept her crush on Merrick a secret, same as me.
We used to spend a lot of nights 'studying' in my room when we were really just waiting for Merrick to get home from a party or from a practice. The poor guy had no idea there were a couple of peeping toms next door.
"How would I even talk to her, Mom? It's been almost a year and I ignored her so many times," I stated, regretfully. I was disappointed in the way I handled things and I lost a best friend because of it. I knew she only wanted to be there for me, but I just couldn't ...
It was too much.
"You just do it, Grace," Mom answered, gently. "You go see her and you tell her how sorry you are for not being around and how hard it was for you to deal with what happened. You tell her that you love her. Keara will forgive you, sweetie. She's just waiting for you to make the first move."
Mom was right. I needed to suck it up and take responsibility.
"She works at your father's office. Just started there a few months ago. She couldn't stand working at the hospital anymore and she's good with the administrative stuff so your father hired her on immediately."
"Thanks, Mom."
Mom leaned forward and cupped my cheek. "You've been through a lot, sweetie, but that doesn't mean your life is over."
I nodded and smiled down at her. "That's the same thing I said to Merrick yesterday."
"Well," she smiled proudly, "it's very good advice." She took another sip of her coffee and blinked a few times, indicating that she was about to ask a question I may not like. "Are you okay over there? Is he being nice?"
I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Yes, he has a bark, but no bite. He's just upset and no one could even begin to understand what he's going through. Not even me."
"It's okay for him to be angry," she said.
"It is and he probably will be for a long time. Once he adjusts, it will get better."
"You're good for him."
"What?"
"As his nurse, you're good for him, but he needs a friend, too. Just ... be careful," she said, her brow furrowing in concern. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Mom, he's my patient. And believe me, I don't think he would want anything to do with me in any other way."
She grumbled something under her breath about looking in the mirror, then stood as she picked up her purse. "That boy may be blind, but that doesn't mean he can't see you."
"That makes no sense."
She rolled her eyes and rinsed her empty coffee cup in the sink. "I thought your father was blind as a bat when I first met him. Well, technically he was," she said with a chuckle. "Had those thick Coke bottle glasses. I knew, in my mind, he was seeing what he wanted through those things. But that man didn't take his eyes off me whenever I was in the room." She sighed and got a faraway look in her eyes, like she was replaying the very first moment she fell in love with my dad. "He couldn't see a damn thing without those horrible glasses. That's how he knew I was the one."
I frowned. "I don't understand."
She smiled and wrapped her hands around my shoulders. "He said to me, 'Alaina, I know you're the one because when I can't see you, I still feel you. I still love you more than I did yesterday and not nearly as much as tomorrow'. And you know what, Grace?"
"What?" I whispered.
"I finally believed him."
She stared into my eyes as if she was waiting for something. Anything that would make me understand.
"He fell in love with the pieces that weren't visible. I had to learn to accept that, sometimes, it's not about beauty. It's about the heart of someone. You have the biggest heart I've ever seen, Grace. That boy over there feels it."
"How do you know?" I asked, skeptically.
"Because he wouldn't be waiting by his window every night for you to sing."
My mouth hung open in surprise. "That's ... how ..."
"Mom's know everything," she said, shrugging as if I should already know that by now. Her arms wrapped around me and squeezed tightly. "I love you, Grace. You're beautiful, inside and out. Just be smart. That boy may look strong, but he's extremely fragile."
I sighed. "It sounds like you're more worried about me hurting him."
She shrugged again. "Go see Keara. Dad left the Honda for you to use today. I'll bring home some sushi tonight."
"YES!" I shouted with a fist pump.
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