“Oh hell!” he stated flatly. That seemed to be his ongoing theme of the day. He grabbed several towels from the bath closet, dampened one, and added soap, rubbing it into the fabric.
“It was only an accident. They’re called that for a reason. You don’t need to beat yourself up over it, really you don’t.” She tried to ease the tension in the room by joking, “You should see what I do on a daily basis. I am the most uncoordinated person on the planet!”
“What’s wrong? Is it your hand? Or, surely, you don’t think I’m mad about it? After all you’ve done for me last night and this morning? How could I be angry with you?” Zack wasn’t ready to let her go and knew she’d kick him out, as soon as she figured it out.
“How about some tea or soup now? I’m sure it’s cooled off.” He smiled stiffly at her and she wondered what was up. “I’d really like to see you get something in you, before I have to go.”
“I’m sorry, Zack! I didn’t mean to take up your entire weekend. I know you’re a busy man. Where did you sleep last night?” she asked. “Did you sleep last night? I hope you at least got in a few winks, and that I didn’t keep you up all night?”
Zack felt a wave of depression rush off her as she talked about his busy schedule. He was pretty sure she wanted him to stay. He’d gotten that off of her loud and clear, and wondered what had changed in her. Better not to worry about it, he told himself. Just wait, give her a few minutes and she’d be telling him to take a hike.
He lied, “I slept like a log,” adding more truthfully, “in the room right next to this one. I collapsed on the first bed I could find, other than yours. I was trying to steer clear of the cooties.” He winked at her trying to lighten the atmosphere. The reality was he’d left the room because he hadn’t trusted himself to sleep next to her and not touch her.
“Don’t worry, I remade the bed,” he assured her jokingly. Actually he’d just crashed on top of it for several hours, waking around two, four-thirty, and again at six-thirty to check on her, and resubmerge her awareness before falling back into bed again.
Amanda herself had woken him the first time, in the midst of another nightmare, calling David’s name repeatedly. Screaming his name, he amended. She had scared him half to death. He’d rushed to her side, laid one hand on her steaming hot forehead and forcefully willed her to settle down. It had taken him about twenty minutes to get her under control, even though she hadn’t been fully aware. He was still astounded that she had the ability to battle him so strongly and knew he’d puzzle about that until he figured it out.
He knew fevers could produce nightmares, but also knew that hadn’t been the problem. He wondered what it was that Amanda was punishing herself for that she had to relive this, not just once in a while, but already twice in a single night. No wonder she was so exhausted. Finally, he’d sat on the bed with her, holding her hand. That had calmed her considerably. Her hand had grasped his as if clinging to a lifeline. Those minutes had been bittersweet for him. She’d thought he was David, and had been comforted. He wished that he could comfort her himself, but at this point he’d take what he could get.
“Time for you to eat something.” Grasping the bowl of soup and a spoon, he slowly sat down on the bed next to her, trying not to jostle Amanda or the liquid.
“I’ll hold this. It’s still pretty warm and I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
He gave her a self-deprecating half smile, acknowledging his own inadvertent and uncoordinated misfortune. He was rewarded with a warm heartfelt smile in return and thought his own heart might burst. God, she was beautiful! Could he get her to turn to him?
He dipped the spoon into the chicken broth, blew on it gently, and then held it to her lips. Automatically, she opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her, though she looked uncomfortable about it.
“Zack, I can feed myself and, honestly, I’m done. I really don’t want any more,” she said after a few spoonfuls, asserting her independence. “I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than to take care of me,” she said softly. “I can take care of myself, honest.” This time she tried to sound more determined.
Uh oh! I’m in for it now. Her whole body tensed and she drew away from him. She didn’t know how she knew, but something bad was coming. His entire body had stiffened in response to her well-intentioned words, and his face darkened as he observed her and considered his thoughts. What had she said to cause this suddenly stern and very unhappy man to appear, she wondered?
She’d inadvertently given him the opening he was looking for, but he had wanted to wait a while before he had to jump into this particular discussion. He put the soup aside for the moment. Pressing his lips together he considered his next words, and then prayed to God they would do their intended job.
During the course of the previous night, and then throughout the morning, he’d decided it was time for some brutal honesty, although it probably wouldn’t earn him any brownie points.
It was time for the people who cared about her to stop pussyfooting around the issues. She wasn’t going to like it. In fact, she might hate him by the time he was through. But, he’d rather she was alive and hating him than lying in a morgue awaiting burial. Okay, it was time to take the bull by the horns.
He cut to the chase, his voice firm but soft as he began “Amanda, no offense, but I’ve seen the results of your own caretaking lately, and I’m not too terribly impressed.”
He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he really wanted to make sure she got the message that she needed to do much better than she had been. He could feel her anger rise up. Good! Maybe she needed to be driven harder. If he pissed her off enough maybe she’d fight back. That just might keep her alive. Part of him felt guilty for going on the attack while she was so ill, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance to say what needed to be said.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she opened her mouth to dispute him. He placed his fingers over her lips.
“No, I’m not done.” He gave himself a mental pep-talk. You can do it, Zack. Finish what you started. “I know it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life, but you are hurting everyone who cares for you.” Including me, he thought. This earned him an astonished look, but to his benefit he’d left her speechless, so he removed his hand from her mouth.
Keep going, Zack, get it out there. Now he’d have to tackle the why and that scared him. Amanda had never discussed David with him, and this would show her that he’d been getting into her personal business, something she would not appreciate.
“I don’t know if you are punishing yourself for living by trying to slowly kill yourself through negligence, or if you simply don’t know how to pull yourself out of the depression cycle you’re in, but this cannot continue!” His voice climbed in volume as though he was scolding an unruly child and she turned her whole body away from him. He really hadn’t planned to yell at her but he was so worried, and, when he worried he yelled. It was an aspect of his character he needed to work on. He told himself he would, later.
All right, now the really bad, she would hate him for sure after this. He’d debated with himself back and forth all morning, was it worth it? Would the threat of it work? Do it, Zack, even if she hates you there’s a chance, in the end, she’ll understand it was done for her own good. He grasped her chin firmly, turned her face to his, and waited until she met his eyes. He wanted her to be fully aware that this was not an idle threat.
“If you continue to refuse to take care of yourself, like you should, I will do my level best to get you committed for a psychiatric evaluation.” That threat would be difficult, if not impossible, to achieve, but she didn’t know that. Her eyes grew round and she gasped. Betrayal was her only feeling right now. He continued even as she opened her mouth to respond to his threat, again placing his fingers over her mouth.
“From this point, you are being placed on a paid medical leave of absence from work. I want you to take some time for yourself, to deal with yo
ur problems in a constructive way. I will hold your position open for you as long as you want it, but will only take you back on when you are physically and mentally healthy enough to handle it.”
Oh dear Lord! What had he just done? Did she have even the faintest idea how hard that had been for him to say? Well, that didn’t matter. This was about her, not him. He’d just have to deal. Hurt, bitter anger, betrayal, confusion, he could read each emotion washing off of her as if she had listed them out loud for him. He just wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, tell her he didn’t mean it, that it was for her own good, that he didn’t want to lose her. Then he sadly acknowledged she wasn’t his to lose.
She yanked her chin away as her eyes watered, and she blinked rapidly to keep her tears at bay, refusing to look at him. He could tell she felt betrayed in a huge way and didn’t know how to respond to his threats. She was furious with him for manhandling her life. To his horror she folded in on herself and curled up on the bed, her back to him, and sobbed heart-wrenching, agonized sobs.
Zack reached out to her, beside himself with indecision. Had he done the right thing? Her pain was so intense he could barely stand it, and knowing he had caused it made him feel even worse. As a physician he knew that sometimes things had to hurt worse before they could get better. Patients had to come to a place where they acknowledged pain, and then made in-roads to cure themselves. Amanda would have to do the same. She needed to admit to herself that she’d been harming herself, even if it had been unintentionally, via her subconscious. Then she had to make the decision to fix it. No one could do it for her.
Amanda felt Zack’s hand gently rubbing her back and she quickly rolled over and smacked it away with as much force as she could muster, which wasn’t much in her current state. “Don’t you dare touch me! You…you bastard! Just who the hell do you think you are?! You,” she flipped back over to face him, pointing a shaky finger at him, “are a complete and absolute prick! Get out! Get out, and leave me alone!”
Zack felt as though she’d kicked him in the stomach, but what else had he expected from her? She wasn’t about to thank him, that was for sure. But he was also getting something else from her, a horrible sense of loneliness and shame.
He couldn’t allow her to feel either one. He stood up and bent over the bed, scooping her up in his arms as easily as if she were a small child. She reacted like one in the midst of a horrible temper tantrum. She lashed out, kicking, hitting, and hoarsely cursing at him. She let loose with a long stream of epithets, some of which he was surprised she knew. But, he tightly kept hold of her nonetheless. She needed to vent, to rage even, and he would let her, but he would not allow her to feel alone or to feel shameful. He knew he’d feel awful, too, if someone tried to run his life for him, but he also knew she needed someone to step up and take action. She needed someone to shock her out of her own inaction.
He sat them both in the rocking chair in the far corner of the room and locked his arms around her as she arched her back, thrashed and flailed, and screamed obscenities at him. He pinned her hands after she’d managed to rake her nails down the side of his face. Ouch! Damn the little minx! She was going to take her pound of flesh too! He smiled grimly.
He was determined he would win this. He was determined to keep her alive, for his sake, if not for her own.
He concentrated as hard as he ever had in his life on calming her. It didn’t take as long as he’d feared it would. She was too sick to fight his influence. After a very long five minutes she sat loosely curled up on his lap, her head nestled under his chin, as she hiccupped and sobbed. He was amazed she continued to allow him to rock her, but of course that was exactly what she needed: someone to hold her, to soothe her wounded soul. She’d been handling all this on her own for far too long. Having locked away her rage and grief, it had only been a matter of time before a torrent had busted loose. After another ten minutes he began to read acceptance, as she realized she’d been fighting herself, not him.
He stroked her hair over and over, whispering to her comforting and encouraging words. “You will live through this. You are not alone,” and “You can do this Mandy. I know you can.” Telling her, “There is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone struggles, and that’s when we get help from friends, family, and sometimes from professionals, when we need it.” Reminding her, “I’m trying to help you. I’m on your side. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care about you.” He desperately hoped she believed every word he said, especially the part that he cared about her.
* * * *
As she hitched and hiccupped through her remaining sobs she finally, and dismally, acknowledged to herself that he was right. She’d been dragging herself through the remnants of her life, but did nothing to really ensure that she would heal. She had deluded herself, and held on to David as though his memory was a life raft and it would keep her afloat. In actuality, she’d been drowning herself instead. Lately, she’d even been fighting to hold on to memories and feelings that had begun to fade, ones she should be allowing to gradually fade in order to go on with her life. She also admitted that, since Zack had been offering her more attention, she’d bound herself even more tightly to the past. His attentions threatened her because she knew that if she acted on them she’d have to let David go. Her love for David and her guilt over his death wouldn’t allow her do that.
Diane had been trying to tell her the same thing, albeit in a different and gentler way. Why Zack’s words had had the impact on her that Diane’s hadn’t was beyond her at this moment. She was bone weary and ached all over. Maybe that’s why she was finally listening. Don’t people always have to hit rock bottom before they’d accept the truth? She still didn’t quite understand why Zack felt so pressured to give her any aid at all. Why was her recovery so important to him?
“I’m sorry, Zack.” Her voice caught on each word as her breath hitched.
“Mandy, honey, there is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry about,” he assured her, kissing the top of her head tenderly. “We’ll get you through this.”
* * * *
“Good evening, sleeping beauty,” were the first words Amanda heard when she woke. Evening? How long had she been asleep? She rolled over to look at the clock blurrily, blinking a couple of times to bring everything into focus.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “How long have I been asleep?”
“You’ve been asleep for nearly eight hours. It’s 5:54 p.m.,” Zack replied with satisfaction.
He was certain that had been the longest period of time she’d slept through since the accident. He had revisited her bedside every half hour of that time, until five in the afternoon, to resuppress her consciousness. At five o’clock he had decided she needed to get up, take her meds, and eat something, so he’d left her alone to wake on her own. He figured it wouldn’t take her very long. He was right.
While she slept, he’d returned phone calls to his clients, had a buddy drop off his car, and made arrangements for other architects in his firm to handle Amanda’s current client load and projects for a while. He had also come up with an idea for Amanda’s forced leave of absence. It would get her out of Pittsburgh, out of this house, which he felt could only be a good thing for her right now. He had reconsidered the work issue while she slept. He knew she’d been using her career to help maintain her sanity and didn’t want to strip that away from her entirely. On the other hand, he didn’t want her killing herself with her work either.
This particular client needed renovations to a country estate he’d recently purchased. It wasn’t exactly her specialty area, but he was sure she could handle it more than competently. It came complete with a rather large aging farm house, a carriage house that had been converted to a one-bedroom lodge, and a stable. It sat on nearly ten square miles of land and had riding trails galore. There was no one living in either the farm house or the carriage house, and the new owner had purchased the horses from the previous one. Currently, there was a fellow coming in a few times each day
to care for the horses until the renovations were complete.
If he could get Amanda to bite, she could stay in the carriage house while she planned and oversaw the renovations to the farmhouse personally. She could also go riding if she liked. He thought being out of the city, having some fresh country air, and a new atmosphere, might help her come to grips with everything she’d been struggling with. And while he’d miss her daily presence, he felt it would be perfect for her and just hoped she’d go along with it. He’d already planned to drive out, once a week, to visit her. To kind of keep his hand in, so to speak.
“How are you feeling? You ready to put something in your stomach?” he asked, as he picked up a newly steeped cup of tea. He’d thrown out the morning’s version and had made fresh. He handed her the tea, carefully, then cradled her hand in his as he helped her hold onto it. Her hand was trembling with the effort of simply sitting up. She was much weaker than he’d thought. He placed his other hand on her forehead. Her temperature had spiked again.
“Let me take this.” He pulled the cup away after she’d taken a few sips. “I’m going to get you some more acetaminophen. Your temp is climbing again.”
“Wait! Zack? I’m sorry, but I really need to use the bathroom.” Her tone was embarrassed, and her cheeks flushed scarlet. “And, I have to try to wash up and change. I feel so cruddy, and I must smell bad!”
He briefly looked away from her and let himself smile at her discomfit. He knew what she was angling for, and that she hated to ask him for help. Well, at least she hadn’t dehydrated too seriously. It was promising if she needed to use the facilities.
Amanda's Touch [D.A.R.E.ing Women] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 11