Once Shattered, Twice Shy

by Benjamin Dahlbeck

  Lorraine liked the idea. She thanked Joe and went into the kitchen to make some lunch.

  Joe went into the kitchen to help her and once she was settled, came back into the den to inquire what Wade wanted for lunch.

  Wade was flustered by the request, since he was so used to doing everything himself. He felt annoyed once again at his limitations, but relieved there was someone willing to help, even if it was his job.

  Joe fixed Wade’s lunch and asked if he could use the microwave to heat up the food he had brought with him. Wade assented and asked Joe if he would eat in the den with him.

  The two men were quiet as they watched television. The unexpected realization that he felt comfortable and natural with Joe in the silence made Wade suddenly uncomfortable.

  THE VISIT to Dr. Black went well. Wade appreciated Joe’s help in getting his mother to the new doctor. Lorraine was nervous when Dr. Black wanted to do some tests. Joe clarified that the tests were simply so that Dr. Black could have fresh information with which to more accurately diagnose what was going on.

  For the next two weeks, Joe went to Wade’s house three times a week. One day was errands and the other two days were for Lorraine’s and Wade’s respective doctor appointments and tests. When all three of them were on the way to see Dr. Black, Joe reassured Lorraine that she would be fine. Sure enough, when all her tests came back, Dr. Black said Lorraine had been on the wrong medications as well as having an untreated thyroid condition, which could be easily controlled with a pill.

  Wade was so relieved at the news that he impulsively grabbed Joe’s hand and held it very tightly. He snapped it back as soon as he realized what he had done, but Joe showed no sign of minding.

  During the drives when they were alone together, Wade began to open up to Joe about his anxieties regarding his mother, his frustrations about his accident, and random things. Joe listened with interest and began to share about himself. As it turned out, Joe grew up in a Dunwoody neighborhood close to where Wade’s Aunt Susan had lived until she moved to South Carolina. Joe was in the same graduating class as Wade’s cousin Perry. Wade wondered aloud if they had seen each other at Perry’s graduation. The possibility amused both men.

  “Not that I would expect a graduating senior to notice a sophomore,” joked Wade.

  “I think I would have noticed you,” said Joe.

  Joe had started taking back roads to get to the orthopedist’s office, partly because it took about the same amount of time as the highway, but also because it allowed him to focus more on their conversations. Wade enjoyed the ride since he could look at all the old houses as they talked. He pointed out where his mother had grown up, near Peachtree Battle, and talked about his late grandparents and how he still missed them.

  Wade felt so comfortable talking with Joe. It was not just polite talk, but real conversation. He shared about his last boyfriend back in Chicago—Vernon, a smooth talker whose actions never matched his words. Wade had been single awhile and on a night out with friends, let himself be chatted up by a guy he watched line dancing at a country bar.

  “I agreed to go out with him.”

  “And?” prompted Joe.

  “And it was a fun date. He’s a very good showman. But then, he’s an alcoholic, and they’re all good showmen. Maybe it’s because my dad worked for a car company, but to me, all people who can do that carnival-barker act come across as drunks.”

  “So why did you keep going out with him?”

  “Because I was lonely. Because I got worried that I was being too picky and too judgmental and all that crap,” said Wade. “I thought that maybe this guy was different.”

  “Maybe it was just him?”

  “No, I’ve known other guys like that, but fortunately I didn’t date them.”

  “You know,” said Joe, “now that I think about it, I remember a couple of guys I dated who were like that, and they were all heavy drinkers. I never made the connection before.”

  “He was really into big, showy gestures and things like that. It was almost like, if I didn’t buy him a gold and diamond watch every day, I didn’t love him. I guess I show my affection in more practical ways. I would much rather have someone help me paint a room than buy me jewelry. It was all so stupid, and I stayed in there much longer than I should have.”

  “At least you got out.”

  “Yeah, well. My friend, Maggie—”

  “Your friend who’s still in Chicago?”

  “Yes. Well, she reminded me of what I told her when she had a messy breakup: it’s better to be alone by oneself than alone in a bad relationship.”

  “That makes sense,” agreed Joe.

  “And to top it all off, the sex wasn’t even that good.” Wade added with a snort. “I had to do all the work for both of us.”

  “Ah,” said Joe, looking curiously thoughtful.

  “PATRICIA, CAN I ask you something?” Joe absentmindedly shuffled papers at his desk.

  “Only if I can ask you something first,” she replied.

  “All right.”

  “Why have you been calling me Patricia for the past month?”

  Joe blushed and fidgeted in his chair. “Oh… well… that can be explained after I’ve asked you my question.”

  Pat took off her reading glasses and placed them to one side. She folded her hands on her desk, leaned forward, and said, “Okay, shoot.”

  “Have you… um… have you ever been attracted to a patient or a client?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Joe,” Pat sighed, “you’re being evasive.”

  Joe looked at Pat without saying anything, and felt his cheeks redden.

  “All right,” she continued, “If you mean, have I ever found a patient attractive, then the answer is yes. Who hasn’t? Contrary to what some doctors might say, nurses are human beings too, and we’re not blind. I’ve attended to a few guys who certainly made my pulse race.”

  “Me too,” Joe said. “I’ve attended to guys I thought were hot and would’ve enjoyed a roll in the hay with, but I’d think about it after the fact, after they’d been discharged.”

  “We’ve all had those thoughts. It comes with the profession—we deal with people’s bodies. I guess you could call it an occupational hazard. Why is this such a concern for you now?”

  Joe paused before answering. “Because I think I have feelings for a client, and I don’t know what to do.”

  It was Pat’s turn to pause. The only sound was the wall clock’s second hand ticking away for what felt to Joe like an hour, but was really only fifteen seconds.

  “Joe, tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s this guy, Wade Meadows.”

  “The shattered-elbow guy?”

  “Yes. He’s… he’s just so… so… sweet. I can’t explain it. I mean, when I first saw him I was taken aback by the rush of emotion that swept through me. It’s so stupid. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I was really thrown. I tried to tell myself it was just a rush of hormones like I’d get sometimes with other good-looking clients. He’s tall, dark, and handsome.”

  Pat smiled.

  “I know. And he’s close to my age. When we talk in the car on the way to appointments, he’s very funny and self-effacing. I’ve been in his house and seen his DVDs and CDs. We like a lot of the same movies and TV shows. He loves to read. He’s got tons of books, including Watership Down. He’s big and strong and yet has such a gentle manner. Oh, Pat, he’s had such a horrible accident with his arm, and yet he acts so stoic most of the time, it really breaks my heart. I just want to hug him and make everything better. I want to ease the pain and loneliness that he’s feeling. With other clients I’ve always been able to remain detached, but with Wade I can’t seem to get my emotions out of the way. I want to care for him and nurse him and help him and, if I’m completely honest, once his arm is healed, I’d love to fuck him nonstop for a few days.”

  Joe threw his hands up in the
air, slammed them down on his desk, and gave Pat an exasperated look.

  “Okay,” Pat said, “that’s a lot of information. Thanks. But how does all this explain why you’ve called me ‘Patricia’ for the past few weeks?”

  “Because I was rambling like an idiot in the car on my first visit and told him that my partner, Pat, and I began this business together. He didn’t flinch or give any indication that it mattered to him one way or the other, but I felt a very urgent need to explain that you were a woman who was my business partner without actually blurting out ‘I find you very attractive and I can’t explain it, but I want to make sure you know I’m single and totally available.’ Which in the end probably would’ve been less embarrassing.”

  “Probably only marginally.” Pat rose from her desk, crossed the office, and sat in the chair across from Joe. She took his hand. “Honey, I’ve known you for ages, and if there is one thing I’m certain of, it’s your professional ethics. For all your talk about giving sponge baths to hot guys with great balls, you’ve never acted on it. You focus on the work. If you really feel this way about a client, then there is clearly something special going on. That said, you do need to tread carefully. Is he single?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s good. At least you don’t have any competition or tricky love triangles to deal with. And the nature of his injury isn’t going to allow him to go out barhopping anytime soon. I know you joked about fucking his brains out once his arm heals, but obviously he isn’t going to be doing much of that for a while with his shattered elbow. I think your best course is simply to be there. Use this time to get to know him without the pressure of sex on the third date and all that stuff. Just watch what you say. And remember, you’re there to help him. That’s your job. If, in this particular case, you have other reasons for wanting to help him, fine, but make sure you’re diligent about his care. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes. I think so. Thanks.”

  WADE LISTENED to the phone ringing and hoped he would not get the voice mail.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, Maggie, good. I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Wade? How are you feeling? Is everything all right?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to talk.”

  “What’s up?”

  “You know I told you about that health-care guy who’s been coming over?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I may be developing feelings for him.”

  “What kind of feelings?”

  “I don’t know. Warm feelings. Affection. Lust.”

  “Ah,” said Maggie with a chuckle.

  “What do you mean, ‘ah’?”

  “I was wondering when you’d bring this up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because each time you’ve called me over the last month, you’ve talked more and more about him and less and less about your arm. I’m glad he’s providing a distraction from the pain. It’s too bad he can’t help you sleep better.”

  “Well, in a way he did, the other night.”

  “How so?”

  “Well,” said Wade, drawing out the word before continuing, “this may be a bit TMI—”

  “After some of the things I’ve told you?” Maggie laughed.

  “True,” said Wade, “As you know, it’s been about a month since I fell. And it’s been about a month since I… well… jerked off. As you can imagine, it hasn’t been high on my priority list lately and what with being so tired and in pain and stuff….”

  “Yes?” Maggie prompted.

  “This has probably been the longest I’ve ever gone without an orgasm since I knew what one was. I also thought perhaps the endorphins would help with the pain. Anyway, I figured it was better I take care of this matter myself, because the last thing I need is to finally fall asleep and have a wet dream for the first time in thirty years because I haven’t whacked off in a month, and then have to deal with sticky sheets with one arm. So I took care of business the other night, and I found myself totally thinking about Joe.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Maggie asked.

  “Nothing I guess,” said Wade, “but I don’t want to think about him that way.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s helping me because he’s paid to. Because he’s a nice guy, and if I start thinking of him that way, I’ll end up doing or saying something stupid. Because I have my arm in a sling, and I can’t do anything in the ménage à deux department anyway, stupid or smooth.”

  “You’re worrying too much about this. From what you’ve told me before, it sounds like he genuinely likes you. Just enjoy his company. At the very least you can practice your flirting techniques.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And your basic social skills.”

  “Oh, thank you very much.”

  Maggie laughed and said, “Well, you can be overly independent and dense. So can I. That’s why I recognize it.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “So how was it?”

  “How was what?”

  “Your ‘first time’ with Joe.”

  “Ha-ha” Wade deadpanned, “Actually I don’t know if it was the four weeks of pent-up semen, the fantasies about Joe, or a combination of the two, but I shot like a porn star!”

  “Okay, maybe that was TMI.”

  “Oh, please. After the things you’ve told me?”

  They laughed and moved on to other topics of conversation. Wade told Maggie about his continued trouble sleeping, and how he had to alternate between the Ambien and the Dilaudid, and how the Dilaudid made him groggy and cranky the next day. Maggie listened sympathetically.

  “You know,” she said slowly, “I’ve wanted to suggest something to you for a few weeks now that I think would really help you.”

  “What? Hypnosis? Ether?”

  “No, something much better. And you don’t need a doctor. I can do it myself.”

  Maggie launched into her spiel. Wade listened to her reasoning and agreed without hesitation. Maggie said she would get right on it.

  They spoke for another forty-five minutes about his mother’s progress, happenings in Chicago, and random things before hanging up.

  THE NEXT few weeks went by in a routine of rest and limited exercise, with only the two days a week Joe came breaking up the monotony. Wade looked forward to the days he saw Joe. The necessary errands and doctor visits seemed secondary to spending time with him.

  Maggie’s package had arrived as quickly as she said it would. Wade was sleeping better thanks to her herbal remedy. The only side effect was feeling calmer the next day, which made him more relaxed around Joe. His arm was hurting a lot less, which he attributed as much to “Maggie’s Medicine” as he did to the blood and bone fusing together.

  Dr. Douglass said his X-rays were looking good. All these factors contributed to a much lighter mood in general.

  Joe was pleased with the improvement he had seen in Wade the past few weeks. It gladdened his heart that Wade was feeling better. Wade looked more rested and in a better frame of mind. He was laughing a lot more during their conversations. Joe liked it when Wade smiled at him. He wanted to see that smile by candlelight instead of under the fluorescent lights of a medical office.

  “What’s it been like, being trapped at home these past few months?” Joe asked.

  “Not too bad,” said Wade, “I’m catching up on a lot of reading. I got through volume one of Mark Twain’s autobiography a lot sooner than I expected.”

  “I bet,” said Joe. “But aren’t you getting cabin fever?”

  Wade sighed. “I have to admit I am getting a little stir-crazy. It’d be nice to get out of the house and go somewhere that’s not a doctor’s office, but I don’t want a repeat of last week.”

  “What happened last week?”

  “I heard from a distant cousin I hadn’t seen in years. She was so sweet and sympathetic over the phone. We talked about some childhood memories, and she s
eemed so concerned about my arm and becoming ‘too isolated,’ as she put it. She invited me out to dinner and an event with some friends at a fancy hotel near Perimeter Mall.”

  “What was the event?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. She was a bit vague, but she said there would be prizes and some fun stuff to look at to buy. I was expecting it to be like a crafts fair or a street-fair-type thing, so I said ‘Yes.’”

  “And?”

  “And it turned out to be a goddamned recruiting seminar for a group that sells healing magnets and ionic crap!”

  “Oh, no!” Joe laughed.

  “Oh, yes! I was so annoyed! And trapped. The meal at the hotel restaurant was delicious, but that didn’t make up for having to sit at a table in a conference room for the next two-and-a-half hours while a televangelist wannabe yammered on and on about his low beginnings and lack of education but subsequent huge success from magnet sales.”

  “Oh, God!” Joe laughed some more. “Did you win any prizes?”

  “If only. The prizes were awarded to people who had made certain sales quotas.”

  “What was the stuff to buy?”

  “Three-hundred-dollar magnetic humidifiers and stuff like that.”

  Joe snorted, and Wade slapped him on the leg with his good hand.

  “I’m sorry to laugh,” Joe said. “It sounds like a painful evening.”

  “It was. Still, it did get me out of the house.”

  Joe hesitated for a few seconds as his mind raced about whether or not to make a suggestion, then he took the plunge. “Would you like to go on a ghost tour?”

  “A what?”

  “A ghost tour.”

  Wade smiled. “That’s what I thought you said. I love those things. Sure. Where’s the tour?”

  “Right in downtown Roswell. They meet at Roswell Square and then walk around to some of the antebellum houses and a cemetery.”