Love, Mischa

by Desiree Hart

  "In two more days."

  "I was so looking forward to that!" I exclaimed.

  "So was I." He sighed. "I wonder if there's a way we could still go, after all," he said thoughtfully a moment later.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, if you can make it around your home and neighborhood all right, why not New York City? I know you'd need some assistance, but I'm sure I'll be able to handle things just fine."

  I gasped. "But Mischa, that will be so much trouble for you!"

  "I don't mind. You're worth it."

  "Oh, Mischa..." I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "You'd really do that...for me?"

  "Of course I would! I'd do anything for you, Trace. I love you!"

  ✽✽✽

  Mischa spent the next couple of days getting more familiar with what it would be like to be with me 24/7, and after making arrangements for the children to stay with my parents, we packed our bags and left for the airport. We went through customs and then boarded the airplane.

  Sitting in a regular airplane seat beside the man I loved, I felt normal for the first time since my accident. I held his hand as we soared into the air.

  "Two whole weeks with the woman I love," he murmured. "You'll never know how long I've looked forward to this."

  "So have I," I told him. "I've felt like a patient for so long. It'll be nice to feel like a woman again."

  He gave me a quick hug. "After everything you've been through, you deserve nothing but the best, and I intend to give it to you."

  At last the airplane landed, and I was in New York City for the very first time in my life. I gazed about in awe at the skyscrapers, the busy streets, the crowds. I felt as if I were in a whole new world.

  It took Mischa awhile to find a taxi service that was wheelchair accessible, but he finally did, and we and our luggage were off to the motel.

  Our room was modest but very nice. By the time we were settled, it was lunchtime. "So, where would you like to go?" Mischa asked me.

  "Gosh, I don't know!" I replied. "There's just so much to choose from..."

  He took me to a deli, where we ate Reuben sandwiches and drank something called a Manhattan Special, which was like a carbonated coffee. "It's delicious!" I exclaimed.

  "So, do you like New York City so far?" he asked me.

  "I love it!"

  I saw that his eyes were twinkling. "This is just the beginning," he told me.

  ✽✽✽

  After lunch we took a taxi to Central Park, where Mischa pushed me down a broad walkway lined by trees with overhanging branches that were laced together. On a large, vibrantly green lawn, we saw people relaxing on quilts spread on the ground. How I longed to join them! Beyond the trees, we could see the tops of the tall buildings in the distance. He took me to the zoo, to Strawberry Fields, and to the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theatre, and by the time we'd seen all of that, it was time to go back to the motel to get ready for the first night of the Bolshoi Ballet.

  I'd never been inside an arena as vast as that of the Lincoln Center For The Performing Arts. Row upon row of seats lined the interior, all facing the curtains. A large orb hung from the top of the ceiling. Mischa found our seats, and we waited for the program to start.

  At last the curtains opened, and the performance began. I watched, mesmerized, as the ballerinas in their white tutus swept gracefully across the stage, moving together as one. Later, a man dressed in red picked one dancer up and lifted her high into the air, to the delight of the audience. Watching the dancers, I found myself transported into another world. All too soon it was over, and time to return to the motel for the night.

  Suddenly jarred back to reality, I realized that I was alone in a motel room with Mischa at night for the very first time. Everything was perfectly quiet as we looked at one another, knowing that the most awkward moment of our vacation was now upon us.

  At last Mischa sighed and rolled me to the bathroom, where he began to run the bath. I was able to remove my shirt and bra by myself, of course, but Mischa had to help me with my pants and panties. He blushed furiously as he did so, trying desperately not to look at my bare breasts.

  When I was completely naked, he gently lowered me into the bathtub, then handed me a washcloth and a bar of soap. "Call me when you're finished," he mumbled.

  He dashed quickly out of the bathroom, trying but failing to keep me from seeing the bulge in the front of his pants. I felt so bad about that that I began to cry softly as soon as he'd left, and the water was already tepid by the time I was calm enough to start bathing.

  I was about halfway finished when I heard Mischa knock on the door. "Tracy? Are you all right in there?"

  "I'm f-fine," I stammered. "Just give me a few more minutes."

  "Oh, I'm sorry!" He sounded embarrassed. "I didn't mean to rush you!"

  "That's OK," I said.

  When I was finished, he lifted me from the tub and helped me to towel off and put on clean panties and a nightgown. It wasn't quite as awkward as the first time he'd seen me naked, but we were both still far from comfortable with the situation.

  As soon as I was fully dressed and back in my wheelchair, Mischa finally took a good look at my face and frowned in concern. "Tracy! Have you been crying?"

  "N-no," I lied. "I'm just...really tired, that's all."

  "Of course. It's been a long day, hasn't it?" He rolled me to the double bed we'd be sharing and helped me into it, then headed for the bathroom himself.

  I heard the water running as he took his shower, and a few minutes later, he entered the bedroom in his pajamas. "Um...are you all right?" he asked awkwardly.

  "Yeah, I guess so. Are you?"

  "Yeah. Ready for lights out, then?"

  "I suppose so."

  He turned the lamp off and joined me in bed. A moment later, I felt his arms cradling me, pulling me close. I stiffened for just a moment, then gradually relaxed into his embrace.

  He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "Good night, Trace," he whispered. "I love you."

  "I love you too. Good night." I lay wide awake in the dark, thinking of what needed to be said and wondering how best to word it. "Actually, I'm not all right," I mumbled after a few minutes.

  Instantly Mischa was alarmed. "What's wrong, Trace?"

  "Well..before my accident, I was really hoping that...well, that perhaps we'd have the chance to make love for the first time here in New York."

  He was quiet for a long time.

  "Mischa?" I asked after awhile, afraid that I'd just said the wrong thing.

  "Yeah," he mumbled sheepishly. "To be honest, I'd kind of hoped the same thing as well, but that's all right. We're here together, and that's all that matters."

  "But what about when we go back home? What if I never get any better? What if I'm like this for the rest of my life?"

  "We'll just take it as it comes, sweetie, one day at a time. However it goes, I'm sure there are ways around it. People with all kinds of disabilities still have sex lives. We'll just have to learn how, that's all."

  Something else occurred to me, something that I tried desperately to push to the back of my mind but couldn't. "You can still feel sexual pleasure," I told Mischa. "Would you like for me to...you know..."

  "That's up to you," he replied. "I wouldn't object to it, but it would have to be completely your choice. I'd certainly never pressure you to."

  "But would you be disappointed if I didn't?"

  "Of course not! What kind of man would that make me? Tracy, I don't want you to feel like you 'owe' me anything just because I'm spending a lot of money on our vacation. I brought you to New York because I wanted to have a nice vacation with you, not because I wanted something in return. You understand that, don't you?"

  "Thank you so much, Mischa. You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that."

  "Aw, you don't have to thank me for that!" He squeezed me tight and kissed the top of my he
ad. "Go to sleep now. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

  Chapter 11

  I

  awakened the following morning to the sensation of Mischa gently caressing my breasts through the material of my nightgown. It felt really nice and awakened in me desires I hadn't felt in a very long time. He saw that I was awake and gave me a devilish grin. "Do you like that?"

  "Mm, that feels really nice!" I told him.

  Gently he raised my nightgown up and over my head, exposing my erect nipples, which ached for him. Right away he was there, gently suckling one while manipulating the other with his fingertips. The sensation was exquisite. I moaned in pleasure, and my hand automatically moved to cup his erection through his shorts.

  "Do you want me to do you?" I asked coyly.

  "It's completely up to you," he told me, but I could see the longing in his eyes.

  "I'd like to," I told him.

  In a flash he removed his shorts and straddled my face so that I could take him into my mouth. I licked and suckled with abandon while my fingers played with his balls, reaching behind them to stroke the sensitive skin there. From the noises he was making I could tell that he was enjoying what I was doing immensely. Before long he was groaning and thrusting, and when he was right on the brink he pulled out and came all over my chest.

  "Just a sec." Quickly he fetched a warm, wet washcloth and cleaned me up, then lay back in bed and pulled me to him for a cuddle.

  "I love you, Trace," he said as he stroked my hair. "I'm so glad we came to New York."

  "Me too," I said. "For the very first time since my accident, I feel halfway normal again."

  He laughed and kissed the tip of my nose. "I told you everything was going to be all right. You'll believe me next time, won't you?" he teased.

  I was happy just to lie in his arms enjoying the sensation of his fingers massaging my back. "Mm, that feels so nice."

  "So what do you want to do this morning?" he asked me.

  We rode the Staten Island Ferry, toured the Statue of Liberty, and and spent the rest of the day visiting several museums, zoos, and even an aquarium. Our second night of the Bolshoi Ballet was even more spectacular than the first had been, so much so that I was almost sorry to leave when it was over.

  "You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" Mischa asked me on the way back to the motel. "I can tell by the way your eyes are sparkling."

  "It takes me to another world," I told him. "For just a little while, I can forget about...this." I glanced down at my useless legs.

  As soon as we reached the motel, Mischa rolled me into the bathroom and began to run my bath, as he'd done the night before. Tenderly he undressed me and lowered me into the tub, where he lathered a washcloth and began to bathe me.

  "I can bathe myself, you know," I reminded him, resenting the idea that he was treating me as if I were totally helpless.

  "I know." He chuckled. "I just thought you might like to be pampered a little."

  "Well, since you put it that way..." I closed my eyes and lay back in the tub, enjoying his ministrations. When he got to my lower body, he spread my legs and fondled my privates.

  "You don't have any sensation there at all?"

  I shook my head.

  "Oh, Trace, I'm so sorry!" He sounded as if he might cry as he embraced me.

  "I'm sorry." Suddenly I felt very depressed. "I wish I could be a real woman for you."

  "Listen to me, Trace." He gripped the sides of the tub and looked into my eyes. "Sex is such a small part of a complete relationship. What we have together is so special, so precious, and I would never want to be with any other woman but you. There's nothing at all for you to feel bad about."

  "Yeah." I was crying softly, my tears dripping into the water. He kissed them away and finished bathing me, then lifted me from the tub and toweled me off.

  "You're so beautiful," he whispered, gazing up and down my naked body. "So beautiful."

  He helped me into my panties and nightgown, then gathered me into his arms and carried me to bed. "What about my chair?" I asked.

  "I'll get it later," he told me as he laid me down and began to massage my shoulders.

  "Mm, I get a massage too?" I asked.

  "You sure do!"

  I fell asleep as he was gently kneading all the tension out of my muscles. At some point later in the night, I awakened to hear him softly sobbing.

  "Mischa?" I touched his cheek to find it moist with tears.

  "It's just so unfair," he muttered. "You didn't deserve this." His arms snaked around me and held me tighter than ever before.

  "It's all right, Mischa." For the first time, I found myself comforting him instead of the other way around. "We're making it all right. We're managing."

  "No, it's not all right." He sounded angry. "You shouldn't have had so much taken away from you. You shouldn't have lost so much."

  "But I still have you, Mischa. I still have my children and my family. I still have everything that really matters."

  "You're such a brave woman, Trace," he told me. "You're the bravest person I've ever known, and I love you so much more than I ever thought I possibly could."

  ✽✽✽

  The morning after the final performance of the Bolshoi Ballet, we packed our bags, checked out of the motel, and left for the airport.

  "I can't wait to see Sage and Meadow again!" I said as the airplane took off. "I've missed them so much!"

  "I'm sure they really missed you, too." Mischa smiled. "You'll have lots of stories to tell them about New York, won't you? Lots of pictures to show them, too."

  "Yeah." I had yet to talk to the hospital administration about the possibility of my coming back to work. I didn't know whether they'd be willing to make accommodations for my new limitations or if they'd tell me I'd have to train for a new career. I'd only wanted to be a nurse for as long as I could remember. How could I even consider doing another kind of work?

  ✽✽✽

  I sighed as I began to sort the different sizes of needles and tubing into their appropriate compartments in the medical supply area. I knew that I was fortunate to have been able to come back to work at the hospital at all, but I missed the bustle and excitement of the emergency room and the interactions with the patients very much.

  To my consternation, a piece of tubing tumbled from its compartment and headed for the floor. Automatically I reached for it and caught it just in time. At the same instant, I saw my leg swing out.

  I couldn't believe it! I stared at my leg for a few minutes to see if it would happen again. It didn't. Disappointed, I returned to the task at hand.

  "Hey there, beautiful lady!" I turned to see Mischa grinning at me. Since we'd returned from New York, he'd practically lived with me and the kids, returning to his own home only to shower and to sleep.

  "Hey, good-looking man!" I replied.

  "Ready for lunch?"

  "Am I ever!"

  He pushed me to the cafeteria. I could have gotten there by myself easily, but I indulged Mischa's longing to be chivalrous at every opportunity.

  "So how has your morning been?" he asked me.

  "Slow," I said. "I miss my old job so much!"

  "I know." He placed a gentle hand over mine. "But look at it this way. At least you're still supporting your children and making a contribution to society. A lot of people in your position would have just given up."

  I didn't say anything.

  "What's on your mind, Tracy?"

  I smiled mysteriously.

  "Come on, Trace. What is it?"

  "It might be nothing at all," I replied. "Or it might be something."

  "Won't you tell me what it is?" He gave me his best puppy-dog look. "Pretty please?"

  "I wish I could." I sighed. "But I don't want to get my...and your...hopes up, just in case it's not anything, after all."

  "So when are you gonna find out for sure?"

  "Soon, hopefully."
<
br />   ✽✽✽

  "The fact that your leg moved of its own accord is a good sign," Dr. Bailey told me. "It indicates that the damaged nerves are mending and are getting messages through to the muscles again. It's still too soon to predict how complete your recovery will be, and I can't promise you'll ever walk again without assistance, but this is still good news. Very good news."

  That night I was lying in bed when I felt my toes wiggle. It startled me and even frightened me a little, as I hadn't felt my toes at all since before the accident. I switched on the bedside lamp and uncovered my legs and feet and just sat there and wiggled my toes and giggled.

  I resumed physical therapy a few days later. The muscles in my legs and feet were stiff and sore from weeks of not being used, and my first few steps were difficult and painful, but I progressed well and was soon walking back and forth holding onto the bars with ease.

  I had a surprise for Mischa when he came to pick me up for our date that Friday night. I answered the door sitting in my wheelchair as I normally did.

  "Hey, sweetie!" He gave me his usual big grin. "Ready to go?"

  "Almost." I grinned. "I have a surprise for you first."

  I rolled the wheelchair to the corner where I'd discreetly left my crutches. My eyes never left his face as I stood up, reached for the crutches, and walked back to him using them. His eyes grew wide with delight as he laughed and picked me up and swung me around.

  "I knew you'd walk again, Tracy!" He sat me back down on my feet and gazed into my eyes in ecstasy. "I knew it!"

  "That day in the cafeteria, when I told you I didn't want to get my hopes up in case it turned out to be nothing," I told him. "My leg had just moved for the first time that morning. I didn't feel it, but I saw it. A few days later, I felt my toes wiggling while I was in bed. Not too long after that, I started physical therapy. I didn't say anything to you about it because I wanted it to be a surprise."

  "And a most wonderful one it was!" he exclaimed. "Let's go out and celebrate! Um...do you think we'll need to bring the wheelchair along for just in case?"

  "It's only dinner and a movie," I pointed out. "I'll be fine!"