Saving Dr. Tremaine

by Jessica Matthews

  “Nap time it is.” She pushed him in the direction of his bedroom and eyed his private sanctum with some dismay. A huge bed, two dressers and a bedside table filled the space and made wheelchair access impossible.

  He frowned. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “Of course it will,” she said, undaunted. “I’ll park here at the foot and if you use me as your crutch, you can hop those few steps.”

  “Hop? Are you joking?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll manage.” She set the chair’s brake and turned down the bed. When she faced him again, she caught him staring. “What’s wrong now?”

  “You aren’t strong enough.”

  “I beg your pardon,” she said, pretending affront. “If I can move Rescue Randy, I can move you. I’m stronger than I look.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want surgery on my other leg.”

  “‘Oh, ye of little faith’,” she quoted as she braced herself to lift him. With her help, he rose on his good leg while she slid under his good arm and plastered herself against him.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered.

  “I won’t let you fall,” she said, as they slowly progressed toward the side of the bed. “I promise.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Exhaling a huge sigh, he sank onto the bed. Annie raised his injured leg, conscious of the strength in his lower body as he put his own efforts into scooting away from the edge.

  “Don’t roll out of bed,” she warned. “If you do, I won’t be able to pick you up.”

  “I thought you said you moved Rescue Randy.”

  Annie grinned. “He’s a trim hundred and seventy-five pounds.”

  “I’m only one eighty,” he protested.

  And every ounce was pure male. “I never said how I moved our mannequin either. Moving doesn’t necessarily mean lifting. Dragging counts. So unless you want to be dragged somewhere, you’d better stay put.”

  Jared grimaced. “How reassuring.”

  “Would you like a sheet or a blanket?”

  “The sheet.”

  She drew the navy blue sheet to his waist. “I’ll bring a glass of water, the TV remote, and your phone.”

  “Where will you be after that?”

  “I’ll run back and forth between my place and yours. If you yell and I don’t answer, call my apartment. I’ll hurry back before you can hang up.”

  She started to walk away, but he grabbed her hand. “Thanks again,” he said. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  Growing to love her in return would be more than enough, but she couldn’t say so. Instead, she grinned. “Give me a day or two. I’ll think of something.”

  After she left, Jared relaxed for what seemed the first time in days. There was nothing quite like sleeping in one’s own bed. For the most part the fog associated with his pain medication had also dissipated, so he couldn’t be happier.

  He could be, he corrected, if Walt hadn’t died. Jared knew what Walt’s family was going through, especially his two children, and he wished that Walt could have walked away like he, Mark, and Justin had. His two colleagues had felt as guilty as he did for surviving, and all three of them would ponder the question of “Why Walt and not me?” for some time.

  Determined not to start playing his “if only” game as he had during most of his waking moments since the crash, he concentrated his thoughts on Annie. Thinking of her brought to mind a host of wishes, starting with the one where she crawled into bed beside him.

  Watching her bend over to turn down his sheets had caused his body to react instantly and quite unexpectedly. It hadn’t helped matters either when she’d plastered herself against him to act as his support. He didn’t know what had ached worse—his foot or his groin.

  He hung on to the sheet in spite of being far too hot to need it. He’d only accepted the covering because he’d wanted to hide his schoolboy response to Annie’s delectable curves. At least she’d brought a pair of athletic shorts and a button-down shirt to the hospital for him to wear home. If she’d brought a pair of jeans, which would have needed removing for comfort’s sake, he might well have embarrassed himself.

  Suddenly he wondered how he was going to survive her touch over the next few weeks. If seeing her shapely derrière had recharged his testosterone levels, he foresaw trouble ahead.

  A clear vision of her giving him a sponge bath compounded his private ache and he groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Annie placed the glass on his right-hand bedside table, along with the remote control and cordless phone. “Do you need another pain pill?”

  “I’m fine,” he said gruffly. “Just tired. And hot. Would you turn up the air-conditioning?”

  “Let me pull off the sheet.” She reached for it, but he held on to it with a deathlike grip.

  “Leave it. Just fix the air-conditioning.”

  “The thermostat is set at seventy-four. You should be needing a sweater.”

  “Drop it to seventy.”

  “Consider it done, but I’m glad I won’t be paying your electric bill.”

  As long as he had electricity. He eyed the glass, wishing he could dump its icy contents onto his lap. “I don’t know how you expect me to reach over there. My left arm isn’t long enough.”

  A small wrinkle appeared on her forehead as she compared the furniture layout to his injuries. “Oh, my. Well, when you want a drink you’ll have to say so.”

  “I could use one now.”

  She held the cup while he downed half of its contents through the bendable straw she’d provided. After he’d drunk his fill, she leaned across his body to place the remote and telephone on the left side of the bed. As her hair brushed across his chest and her arm rubbed against his, he clenched his fist to keep from pulling her on top of him.

  “Do you need anything else?” she asked, straightening.

  You. If she only knew how badly he wanted to bury himself inside her…barring that, he’d like a cold shower, preferably Alaskan snowbank cold.

  “No,” he said, aware of how hoarse he sounded.

  “Sweet dreams, then.” She walked out, leaving only her tangy scent lingering in the air.

  Sweet dreams. They would be sweet indeed, because Annie would occupy them. By the same token, thwarted sexual desire would make them hell.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Annie said as she helped Jared into his wheelchair after he’d slept the afternoon away.

  “I could eat something.”

  “Good, because you can have lasagna, a deli submarine sandwich, or meat loaf, followed by strawberry shortcake or chocolate-chip cookies.”

  He stared at her in dismayed surprise. “Don’t tell me you cooked all afternoon.”

  Annie laughed. “Hardly. These were gifts from folks in the building. Thelma and Cecil brought the lasagna, Monica supplied the meat loaf and cookies, and the rest came from a few of Cecil’s neighbors.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not. Once I wheel you into the kitchen, you can see for yourself. If this keeps up, you won’t have to cook again for weeks.”

  “When did everyone drop by? I didn’t hear the doorbell.”

  “I left a sign on the door to knock gently because you were sleeping. By the way, Nate and his friends brought a get-well card. It’s on the coffee table.”

  He shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “‘Thank you’ works well and is greatly appreciated.”

  “Yes, but why are they doing this? These people hardly know me.”

  “Word travels fast. You helped Cecil and Monica when they needed it, so people are reciprocating. We might be a large complex, but we look after our own,” she said simply. “Thelma also offered to take care of your laundry. Nate volunteered to baby-sit you as needed after school and on the weekends.”

  “To think a ten-year-old is
more capable than I am,” he said wryly. “The irony of it all.”

  “Yeah, but he’ll be good at fetching things and keeping you company. I also think Nate’s hoping to talk ‘guy’ stuff. You know, all those things you don’t want to tell or ask your mother about.”

  “Why me? Surely he has an uncle or a grandfather?”

  “Not around here. Actually, you’re more perfect than you know. Not only are you a hero in his eyes for playing baseball with him, but you’re a doctor. To a kid, that gives you near-celebrity status.”

  “Then I’d better try to remember my birds-and-the-bees lecture for preteens.”

  He would have to mention bird and bees. After peeking in on him several times while he’d slept, she’d come away certain that she had latent masochistic tendencies. Placing herself in temptation’s way by choice had to be a sign of insanity.

  “It might not hurt,” she agreed. “Nate’s also offered to hook his games console to your television so you have something to do during the day.”

  “I don’t think I can play video games one-handed, especially when it isn’t my dominant hand.”

  “I suspect he’s more interested in showing off his own manual dexterity than developing yours,” she said as she pushed him into the kitchen. “You should have seen his eyes light up when he saw your thirty-five-inch screen. He couldn’t have been happier if someone had handed him the keys to an electronics store. Anyway, he’ll stop by later and you two can hash out his hours. Now, on to the important stuff. What would you like for dinner?”

  “Lasagna.”

  She parked him next to the table. “Sit tight and I’ll get it ready. What time did Lynn say she’d arrive?”

  “Around seven.”

  Annie glanced at him and noticed that he seemed more tense than excited. “Are you nervous about her visit?”

  He hesitated. “A little.”

  “When did you see her last?”

  “Before I moved to Hope.”

  “You haven’t talked to her in over a year?” Annie was horrified.

  “We talked,” he defended himself. “We just didn’t get together. How soon before we can eat?”

  “Right now,” she said, honoring his decision to steer the conversation down a different path. He obviously wasn’t ready to discuss his relationship with his family, but Annie had faith that if his sister was coming, they would make progress.

  She set a plate before him, placing his glass of lemonade on his left instead of his right. “Dig in.”

  He awkwardly gripped his fork and started to lift a bite to his mouth. It fell onto his plate with a tomato-y splat. After several tries he finally speared it, and had his first taste.

  Repeating the process, he slowly worked his way through half of his pasta and part of his lettuce salad until Annie could hardly bear to watch his struggle. “Would you like me to—?”

  “No. I can do it.” This time the portion destined for his stomach landed on the floor and he mumbled a curse before attacking his food once again with dogged determination.

  “Just think,” she said cheerfully. “In another month, you’ll be ambidextrous.”

  “Or starved to death.”

  She smiled at his dark prediction. “I won’t let you waste away.” Scooting her chair closer, she grabbed the fork out of his hand. “Open wide.”

  He started to protest, but she shoved a bite into his mouth. “After you eat your vegetables, you can have dessert.”

  “Strawberry shortcake?” he asked hopefully.

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  She added enough strawberry juice so the cake wouldn’t crumble off his spoon and he soon made his serving disappear. When he’d finished, a speck of whipped topping clung to his upper lip. She would have liked to have kissed it off, but used her napkin instead. Yet she couldn’t resist taking her time.

  “Am I wearing more of my dinner than I ate?” he asked dryly.

  “Actually, I’m quite impressed with how well you did. I shouldn’t have to scrub the floor more than twice a day.”

  “Maybe we should borrow someone’s dog for the duration.”

  “What an idea. Unfortunately, this is a no-pets-allowed complex.”

  “Disabled people are allowed a dog.”

  “Yeah, but you aren’t disabled.”

  “And what do you call needing someone’s assistance for everything from eating to dressing?”

  “Temporarily incapacitated,” she said, wondering how she was going to maintain objectivity when it was time to change his clothes. And speaking of change, she needed to change the subject. “Would you like to relax in the living room while I clean up the kitchen?”

  “I’ll wait here,” he said.

  “Suit yourself. Have you heard who’s going to cover for you in the ER?” she asked as she stored the leftovers in the refrigerator.

  “Galen, I suppose. Probably a locum, too. I tried to tell Dr Meiers that I could do paperwork and handle simple cases, but he insisted I couldn’t come back until after my wrist healed and I could function under my own steam.”

  “Smart man. And after that?”

  “I’ll have crutches or a walking cast by then, so I should be able to handle my regular job. If not, Meiers said he’d assign me to the outpatient clinic. According to him, he’ll make that decision when the time comes.”

  “You have to admit that on a busy night you’re on your feet all the time.”

  “I can handle it.”

  Privately, she questioned his stamina, but that day was still weeks away and he could surprise her. He had too forceful a personality to let a cast limit what he wanted to do.

  “All done,” she said brightly, as soon as the kitchen was spotless again. “How about a trip to the living room?”

  “I’m ready.”

  Once there, Annie helped Jared out of the chair and onto the sofa, cushioning his foot on the coffee table with a pillow. “How about a game?”

  “What kind?”

  Annie thought of the few she had tucked away in her closet. “Pictionary?”

  He shook his head. “Can’t draw.”

  “Cards? I play a mean hand of Go Fish and Old Maid.”

  He frowned. “Poker?”

  “No chips.”

  “What about checkers or chess?”

  “I’ve lost several checker pieces and I don’t know a thing about chess. How about Scrabble?”

  “All right.”

  “Scrabble it is. I’ll be back in a flash.” She hurried to the door and nearly jumped out of her skin because two young women stood outside. The lighter-haired of the two had raised her hand as if to knock.

  Annie recognized the two from a photo on Jared’s table. “Hi. I’m Annie, Jared’s neighbor.” She pointed to her apartment. “You must be Lynn and Carrie.”

  Lynn, the attractive, sandy-haired sister in her mid-twenties, smiled. “Yes, we are.”

  “He’ll be surprised to see both of you. He was only expecting one.”

  “Jared rarely asks anyone for anything,” Lynn said wryly, “so we both decided to come. How is he?”

  “Fine, and looking forward to you coming.”

  “I hope so.” Carrie sounded doubtful. She had Jared’s dark coloring and didn’t look much older than her sister. “I couldn’t tell from the way he talked on the telephone. He’s always been the type to deal with everything himself and suffer in silence to keep us from worrying, so none of us really knew what to expect.”

  “He isn’t exactly forthcoming, is he?” Annie said.

  “You must know him well if you’ve learned that.” Lynn gave her a speculative glance.

  “We’ve had our moments.” She stepped aside. “Go on in. I was on my way home for a game to occupy the time until you arrived, but we won’t need it now. If you need anything or have any questions, call. Jared has my number.”

  “Please, don’t go.” Lynn stopped her. “Not yet.”

  They s
eemed as nervous about this meeting as Jared was. Clearly his sisters wanted her to act as a buffer until they broke the initial ice.

  “OK. Come in.” Annie led the two into the living room. “Guess who I found outside?”

  She stepped out of the way to reveal Lynn and Carrie. “Surprise!”

  Jared’s eyes widened. “Carrie? You came, too?”

  “I couldn’t stay away. You never telephone and the one time you do you’re in the hospital. Just look at you. You are worse off than you told us.” Her voice was accusing.

  “No, I’m not,” he protested. “Don’t let these casts fool you. Broken bones heal. In a few weeks I’ll be better than new.”

  Both women turned to Annie as if expecting her to correct him. “It’s true,” she confirmed. “He’s in good shape, all things considered.”

  Carrie’s eyes glistened and she sniffled. “Oh, Jared. We’ve been so worried about you. Then, when you phoned to tell us about being in the hospital because of a plane crash…” Her voice broke and she took a minute to clear her throat while Lynn finished her thought.

  “We were afraid the situation was worse than it was. We even thought you might be in the intensive care unit and didn’t want to tell us.”

  “Did I sound that bad?” he asked, incredulous.

  Carrie nodded, bursting into full-fledged tears as she rushed forward to fling her arms around him. Lynn moved to his injured side, equally distraught but plainly needing his reassurance.

  Annie’s eyes watered at the touching scene of Jared comforting his sisters. Pleased by the way everything had turned out, the pleasure slowly gave way to envy, then a fervent wish to have her own dream family. Of course, she knew it wouldn’t always be smooth sailing, but moments like the one she was currently privileged to see would make the tough times bearable.

  Aware that she was intruding on an immensely private time, Annie slipped away and tried not to notice how quiet her apartment seemed. Her own need to feel connected to someone attacked with a vengeance, so she curled on her sofa with her grandfather’s old plaid blanket wrapped around her.