Matters of the Heart

by Catherine Maiorisi

  “Hey, stop daydreaming, I’m starving. Can I have more croissant or does your diet only allow one bite?”

  Andrea broke off another piece and fed it to her. “Actually, my diet doesn’t include croissants at all, so if I stay, it will be a while before you have another one.” She took a bite of her own croissant. “Although I do see the attraction. This is delicious.”

  Andrea took her time with breakfast, alternating feeding Darcy pieces of the croissant and taking bites of her own with giving Darcy sips of coffee, then doing the same for herself. Neither spoke, but the silence was comfortable. Occasionally their eyes met, but even that was comfortable. When they were done, Andrea wiped Darcy’s mouth and moved the tray away.

  “I’d like to examine you now. Is that all right?”

  “No.” Calm Darcy had been replaced by angry Darcy. She closed her eyes, but a tear leaked out.

  Andrea used a tissue to gently dry the tear. “Darcy?”

  Darcy opened her eyes. “Do I have a choice?” Without the anger, her voice was low, husky. Sexy. Without the anger, her weariness was apparent. Without the anger, her fear and sadness were exposed.

  Andrea felt bad for Darcy. She was totally dependent and the loss of control must be difficult. She pulled the chair close to the bed again and leaned in, keeping her voice gentle, her words direct. “You don’t have a choice if you want to get well. But if that isn’t your goal, you can choose to ignore your health and let the chips fall where they may. It’s really up to you.”

  After a long moment of silence, Darcy spoke. “If I say yes, will you tell me about yourself?”

  “Aha, tit for tat?” Andrea’s voice was light, but she didn’t know how much she cared to share with Darcy.

  “Yes. After all, it’s the closest I’m going to get to tit for a while.”

  Ah, the piggy was back, but the tone was light and teasing rather than insulting. “Do I detect a sense of humor?”

  “I used to have one of those. So, what do you say?”

  “Two questions, but not too personal since we’ve just met.”

  “Okay, examine away.”

  She pushed Darcy’s hair aside to check the gash on her forehead. It was healing well, but it was still red and raw-looking. “Whoever stitched you in the emergency room did a good job. You probably won’t have much of a scar.”

  “Can I see?”

  Andrea looked around but there was no mirror. “Just a second.” She went to the bedroom and retrieved the makeup mirror she’d seen there.

  “I didn’t know it was there.” Darcy studied the gash. “Pretty bad, huh?”

  Andrea nodded, then put the mirror down. With Darcy’s eyes on her, she took her temperature and checked her respiration rate. Both were normal.

  Darcy closed her eyes as Andrea moved the blanket aside and placed the stethoscope over her heart. Her heartbeat was sluggish but was probably normal for the state of her arteries. She shifted the stethoscope and listened to Darcy’s lungs. “I’ll try to be careful of your ribs, but I may hurt you.” She rolled her to her side to get access to her back. Darcy grunted. Her lungs were clear and though she tried not to pay attention she couldn’t help noticing Darcy’s firm, full breasts and taut nipples.Damn. Now who’s the piggy?

  She checked for irritations on either side of the casts on Darcy’s arms and the full casts on each of her legs, then listened to the pulses in her groin and both ankles. “Now I’m going to check for bedsores.” She gently rolled Darcy to one side then the other, scanning her colorful bruised back, ribs and rear-end. Nice ass too. She smiled. In the ER there was always so much pressure she barely had time to register the sex of her patients and now here she was, ogling a helpless woman. Well, Darcy had done it to her so tit for tat. She checked Darcy’s heels. No sores.

  Darcy opened her eyes. “Why are you smiling?” She sounded grouchy rather than nasty.

  “Was I?”

  “You was. Don’t act so innocent.”

  “I’m happy I didn’t find any bedsores.”

  “Made your day, did it?”

  “You could say that. I’d like to wash you now, if that’s okay?”

  She closed her eyes. “Can we do it later?”

  She really needed a good washing but right now building trust was more important and she was intent on Darcy feeling more in control. “If you’d like.” She picked up a bottle of skin lotion. “Your skin is dry, Darcy, at least let me put some lotion on it.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “I’ll avoid your ribs. It should feel good. And, it will help prevent bed sores.”

  “Can you use my lotion, Darcy’s Lotion #7, instead of that stuff? It should be in the bathroom.”

  Andrea went into the bathroom and scanned the bottles: Darcy’s Body Wash #7, Darcy’s Shampoo #7, Darcy’s Cream Rinse #7 and Darcy’s Lotion #7. She tested the lotion on her hand. Wow, thick and creamy. She sniffed her hand. A light version of the spicy, sexy fragrance that had turned her on in Darcy’s closet.

  Andrea held the bottle up for Darcy to see. “You can tell me to stop anytime.”

  It was hard to believe that none of the nurses or aides had done this. But Darcy’s temper probably had made doing the simplest thing torture for patient and aide. Andrea put some cream on her hands and rubbed them together to warm them. She started with Darcy’s neck, then down to the shoulders. “You have lovely skin; this should help it stay that way.”

  Darcy closed her eyes. She tensed as Andrea’s hands neared the fractured ribs and shivered at the light rubbing of her belly, but slowly her tension eased. As she had when checking for bedsores, Andrea rolled Darcy first to one side then the other, applying the cream over her back and her buttocks. She finished up with Darcy’s feet, massaging and rubbing the lotion in. Darcy lay with her eyes closed. “Thank you, Doctor. It’s nice to be touched so gently. It’s been a while.”

  Poor thing must be suffering sensory deprivation. “The last thing you need to be dealing with right now is bedsores, so I’d recommend doing that every day. Is this lotion made especially for you? The fragrance is…lovely.” Actually, the fragrance was damned sexy.

  “Yes, there’s a perfume store in Brooklyn that creates fragrances for individuals. They got it right on the seventh try, thus number seven.”

  “Let’s see if your pressure is down.” She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Darcy’s upper left arm and pumped. “One hundred-seventy over seventy-eight. Better, but still not good. That’s why your cardiologist wanted a physician with you at all times.”

  “My cardiologist? How did Dr. Castillo get involved?”

  Not wanting to set Darcy off on another tirade against Gerri, Andrea considered the best way to answer. “As I understand it, your lov—, um, Gerri, was worried that you would hurt yourself and called her. Dr. Castillo recommended bringing in a professional for a few weeks to try to get your pressure under control.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Gerri did that? More brains than I gave her credit for. And, more caring than I realized.” Darcy stared at the ceiling. “She thought I wanted to hurt myself? What could I do, beat myself over the head with my cast?”

  “Not that kind of hurt yourself. She felt you were out of control and might have a stroke, but she was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to help you. In fact, she thought she was bringing out the anger and making it worse.” And, Dr. Castillo thought with your volatile temper and seriously impaired heart, you should have a doctor available.

  Andrea updated Darcy’s chart, looked in the refrigerator to check what was there, then puttered around, straightening the messy room and arranging things to suit her, giving Darcy time to absorb what she’d told her. She dropped her pen and when she bent to retrieve it she was hit by the sour smell of urine from a clump of linens under the table, next to the refrigerator. She put on latex gloves and stuffed the sheets and pillowcases in the already full hamper in the hallway.

  “Wow, now I’m overwhelmed. I guess I owe Gerri a
n apology. I’ve been a real bitch.”

  Those were the first words she’d heard from Darcy that showed some awareness of her impact on others. Maybe there was hope.

  Darcy lay there chewing her lip. “So Dr. Castillo sent you, not the agency?”

  “Yes. You’ll be paying me directly, if that’s okay?”

  Darcy smirked. “And if it’s not?”

  “Then I guess you’ll just have to pay me directly.”

  “Dr. Trapani, did you put something in the water you gave me earlier?”

  “No. I’ll always tell you when I’m medicating you. Why do you ask?”

  “I feel calmer. Maybe rubbing me with lotion soothed the savage beast in me. Or, maybe it’s you. Maybe I’m calm because you’re calm.”

  Or maybe it’s because you terrorized Gerri and the aides and nurses and they pulled back, leaving you feeling abandoned, which terrified you and made you lash out, terrorizing them. Andrea had hoped to soothe Darcy but didn’t think it would happen so fast. “Calm is good, Darcy, whatever the reason.”

  “Before I ask my two questions, can I ask for two favors?”

  Andrea was leery about saying yes, but they seemed to have moved to a good place and she didn’t want to stir Darcy up. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Ask away?”

  “Yeah, I am greedy. Could you scratch my head; it’s driving me crazy. And then could you raise the blinds so I can see out the window? I miss being outside and seeing the sky makes me feel a little better.”

  Andrea ran her fingers through the hair on Darcy’s scalp. “Tell me when I’ve got the right pressure.” She scratched.

  “A little harder, down more. Use your nails and do the whole head. Aaah. Yes. Thanks, enough for now.”

  Darcy’s already stained pillow was now covered with little brown flakes, Andrea’s hands were pink and her nails had a red-brown coating under them. “I’m going to comb your hair then change your bed.”

  She washed her hands in the bathroom, then ran the comb she found on Darcy’s dresser through Darcy’s long black hair. Obviously her hair hadn’t been washed in the several weeks since the accident and the tangles of sweat and dried blood made combing it slow going. By the time the comb moved easily through Darcy’s hair, the pillowcase was covered with reddish brown flakes of blood and Andrea’s hands were red again. It was better but still unacceptable as far as she was concerned. She put the comb aside and washed her hands again.

  Darcy’s eyes had been closed while she worked on her hair and Andrea wasn’t sure she was awake until she spoke. “Thank you. That felt wonderful.”

  “When was the last time your hair was washed?” Andrea lifted Darcy’s head, replaced the dirty pillow with a clean one, then deftly turned the dirty pillowcase inside out to contain the flakes of blood, and put a clean pillowcase on that pillow.

  “Before the accident, I think. When I was in the hospital everything hurt and I couldn’t stand to be touched so I wouldn’t let anyone wash it.” She flushed. “After I came home, one of the aides said I stank and wanted to wash it but she couldn’t explain how she was going to do it and I was afraid she’d hurt me, so I refused. She said I smelled too nasty and quit at the end of her shift. No one else asked. It smells¸ doesn’t it?”

  “I got a lot of the dried blood out so it should be a little better if we keep on top of it.” And, if she stayed, she would figure out a way to wash it.

  When she’d replaced the sheets, Andrea raised all the blinds and opened a window to air the room. Darcy sighed. “It would be nice if we could have the sunlight in here all day. And the fresh air feels great.” She sniffed. “It smells like spring. They must have cut the grass.”

  “Why don’t we just leave the blinds up and the windows open? We’re so high up, no one can see in.”

  “They said it was better for me to be in semidarkness. The aides, I mean.”

  “Bullshit.” Andrea hadn’t meant to be so vehement but it made her angry. “Sure they wanted it dim, so you would be more likely to sleep all day and not bother them. As long as I’m here, these blinds will stay up unless you ask for them to be lowered.”

  Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, thanks. I thought you medical types didn’t criticize each other.”

  Hands on her hips, Andrea glared at Darcy. “Maybe some don’t, but my priority is the patient and if a medical type does something wrong, it’s wrong not to call them out for it. We deal in lives, after all.” She took a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to condescend.”

  Darcy opened her mouth as if to respond, but closed it when Maria appeared with lunch. “It’s nice and bright in here for a change. You call after you feed Darcy, Doctor, and Carlo will bring your lunch. Okay?”

  “Sounds good.” She moved the lunch to the bed tray. “Maria, we’re out of clean sheets and pillowcases and I found some dirty sheets stuffed under the table. Is there someone who could bring up clean linens and collect laundry a couple of times a day?”

  “Marta is supposed to check these things. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Um, Zia…” Darcy looked uncomfortable. “Maybe I chased her out the other day.”

  Maria frowned at Darcy. “Maybe, cara?” She raised her eyebrows. “You feeling better?”

  “Si, Zia.”

  She patted Darcy’s face. “So no more yelling?”

  “I’ll try, Zia.”

  Maria studied Darcy. “Ah, it’s your hair makes you look so nice. I see you later when I come to make dinner.”

  Zia? Maria is Darcy’s aunt? Andrea began to feed Darcy.

  Being fed could be infantilizing so to head off another Darcy attack, Andrea decided to make conversation. “You know, if you hang a bird feeder outside your window, you’d have something to look at. What do you think?”

  Darcy swallowed the chicken she was chewing. “Sounds good. Ask Carlo to take care of it when he comes up with your tray.” She watched Andrea spear another forkful of chicken breast. “Before you shove that in, can I ask one of my questions?”

  Andrea’s hand hovered near Darcy’s mouth. “Fire away.”

  “Where are you from?”

  She fed her the chicken.

  Andrea considered whether this was appropriate information to share. “I grew up in Manhattan, the upper west side.”

  “Yes, but I hear a trace of an accent. Where are you really from?”

  Andrea sat back. “You have good ears. I was born in Sicily but we moved here when I was ten years old. I learned English in Sicily but I became fluent at school here. I thought I’d lost my accent.”

  “It’s very slight, just an occasional word.”

  “Yes, but it’s amazing that—”

  “What? That someone as egocentric as me would pay enough attention to hear it?”

  “Well, yes.” Egocentric and selfish but paying attention to me. Not a good thing.

  Darcy laughed. “Ah, the good doctor is a truth teller.”

  Andrea leaned forward. “You know, you can’t distract me from feeding you this not-a-cheeseburger lunch.” She offered a forkful. Darcy opened her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

  “It’s delicious, so forget about me trying to distract you. I’m interested…in you. That’s all.” She flushed.

  Andrea was pleased to see a blush but pretended to take the interest to mean interested in her background, rather than interested as in sexually. After all, she didn’t even like this woman. But it was nice to know the outrageous Darcy Silver could be embarrassed too. She’d left not a shred of doubt that Andrea’s body interested her but had controlled herself while the lotion was applied. Andrea, on the other hand, had enjoyed touching Darcy’s lovely body way too much. Maybe it was time for her to get back in the dating game. She’d call Julie and Karin soon and agree to go out with the friend they wanted her to meet.

  Darcy swallowed the last of her chicken. She smiled. “So, how old are you, Dr. Trapani?”

  Andrea got up and called down to Maria. She was starving and looking
forward to a quiet half hour while she ate. “Forty-one. And you?”

  “Hmm, I don’t remember granting you any questions. But since you ordered me such a tasty lunch, I’ll answer this one. But remember we do tit” —her eyes flashed to Andrea’s breasts even though they were invisible beneath her lab coat— “for tat. I’ll be forty in December.”

  Andrea’s body responded to Darcy’s blatant flirting with a blush. She didn’t know what to say but she was saved by the arrival of a slender, virile man with a full head of white hair, an old-world manner and a jaunty air. He reminded Andrea of her relatives in Sicily.

  “Doctor, this is Carlo, Maria’s husband.”

  He smiled at Andrea. “Where do you like the tray, Dottore?”

  Before Andrea could say put it in the bedroom, Darcy spoke. “On the bed tray, Zio, the doctor will talk to me while she eats lunch.”

  They were doing so well; Andrea didn’t want to upset the fragile stability. If she stayed beyond today, she’d draw some boundaries—separate meals and no flirting. “Carlo, would it be possible to hang a bird feeder outside this window?”

  He turned to Darcy. “Vuoi questo, bella?”

  “Yes, I want it, Zio. You know I like birds.”

  He kissed two of his fingers and touched them to Darcy’s lips. “Va bene.” He nodded at Andrea, removed Darcy’s empty dishes, put Andrea’s lunch on the tray and left.

  Darcy watched Andrea take her first bite. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you could use a break from me, but, as we’ve established, I’m greedy and egocentric and you’re the first, uh, interesting company I’ve had. I promise I’ll take a nap later so you can have some time for yourself.”

  Andrea was moved by the request to sit with her and the understanding that she needed some time to herself. She nodded and swallowed. “Tell me. How do you amuse yourself?”

  Darcy had a mischievous gleam in her eye and Andrea rushed to cut off whatever sexual innuendo was coming. “Other than terrorizing people, I mean.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words.

  Darcy chewed her lower lip.

  Andrea noted her lips were chapped and made a mental note to put some lotion on them.