Matters of the Heart

by Catherine Maiorisi

  She climbed into bed and powered up her laptop. Darcy had mentioned several books she was interested in reading, so Andrea downloaded the two available as audio books, a mystery and a political analysis, to her iPod. Then she switched to Gmail and typed the email update she’d promised.

  Dear Julie,

  You were right. Darcy is in danger. She’s very volatile and her pressure was 201/110 when I arrived. In fact, I considered calling you or making a trip to the ER but I realized you’d probably say wait and see if it comes down. And it did.

  As you warned, she is difficult. But when she’s not in a screaming rage she can be engaging and interesting. Not to mention, charming. She’s also a big flirt and much to my surprise, I find my body responding. It’s nice to know I’m not as dead as I thought. In fact, I already feel more alive than I have in months.

  Love…Andrea

  She hit Send, powered down and was asleep in minutes.

  Chapter Seven

  Andrea woke with a start, and with years of emergency room and field medical experience with Doctors Without Borders, she was fully conscious immediately. She relaxed when she recognized the sun-filled room in Darcy’s house and remembered she was in Darcy’s bed. She glanced at the clock. Seven fifteen, much later than her usual six a.m. She rolled out of bed, washed her face and brushed her teeth, pulled on clean scrubs and a lab coat and slipped into her shoes. Eight minutes later, she ran the brush through her hair, then walked into Darcy’s room to review the night with Francine.

  Darcy was pale, her eyes were closed. “Good morning, ladies, how did it go?”

  Francine was standing at the table behind Darcy, writing in the chart. She looked worried. Darcy didn’t respond. Andrea raised her eyebrows at Francine.

  Francine shrugged, then pointed to the chart.

  Puzzled, Andrea dropped her voice. “Oh, I didn’t realize Darcy was still sleeping. Let’s review the chart before you leave, Francine.” She walked behind the bed and reached for the chart. “Read this part first, Dr. Trapani,” Francine said, handing her a handwritten note.

  Dear Dr. Trapani,

  For the most part, the shift was quiet. Darcy slept except for when I woke her to check vitals, but she awakened about five this morning and was very agitated. She asked ‘What time is it?’ every three to four minutes until just before you came in. And her eyes were glued to your bedroom door the entire time. At six, I asked if she wanted me to wake you. She got a little nasty and said, ‘I’m fine, I don’t need her.” It was clear to me that you were exactly what she needed/wanted but I felt it was important to respect her wishes. I hope I did the right thing.

  I just took her blood pressure and it was 180/80 much higher than overnight as you’ll see when you check the chart.

  Francine

  “Hmm, pressure is up again. I’ll have to see what I can do about that today.” Andrea spoke loud enough for Darcy to hear. “Thanks, Francine. We’ll see you tonight.”

  Realizing Francine was upset, Andrea walked to the hallway with her and spoke softly. “Don’t worry, Francine. Respecting Darcy’s wishes was the right thing to do.” She looked into Darcy’s room to check on her. “Not to change the subject, but I’m planning on washing her hair tomorrow morning and I’d like your help.”

  “Sure. I can stay later.”

  “No need. I’ll come in earlier, about seven. An hour should be enough time.”

  After Francine started down the stairs, Andrea took a minute to brace herself. She didn’t know why Darcy was upset but she was sure an attack was in her immediate future. Oh, well, here we go again.

  Darcy’s eyes were still closed, her jaw was tense, her mouth white and her breathing uneven. Whatever it was had frightened her. Andrea touched Darcy’s shoulder. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  Darcy squeezed her eyes tighter.

  “Remember me? Dr. Trapani?”

  “Doctor who?” Darcy’s voice was harsh.

  Andrea stiffened. She’d expected it, but it still didn’t feel good to be on the receiving end of that tone of voice. She kept her own voice gentle. “Not Dr. Who. Dr. Trapani, your very own live-in.”

  “Mine? You must be mistaken. I don’t have a…anyone.”

  That Darcy was angry was clear but Andrea’s heart broke at the pain and abandonment she heard underneath the harshness and the anger. She sighed. Square one it is. She pulled the chair over and placed her hand on Darcy shoulder, trying to connect. “Can we talk?”

  “Talk about what?” Darcy spat the words out.

  “There’s the weather or the problems in the Middle East, but talking about what you’re feeling will do more for your blood pressure.” She gently squeezed Darcy’s shoulder. “Why are you so angry?”

  Darcy’s face softened. Her heart went out to Darcy. She was temperamental and difficult but being so helpless would make anybody crazy.

  “I dreamed you’d left me. It felt so real.” Her voice was a whisper.

  “You asked me to stay and I said yes. I would never leave without telling you first. Why didn’t you ask Francine to wake me?”

  “I was afraid to find out that you really were gone, that I’d driven you away like everybody else.”

  “And why did everybody else leave?”

  Darcy hesitated. “Um, because I’m a nasty, punishing bitch.”

  “There you go. Stop being a bitch.”

  Darcy opened her eyes. “If that’s what it takes to keep you here.”

  “That’s what it takes because it’s not good for you to work yourself up like this, your pressure is dangerously high again. Promise you’ll ask Francine to wake me any time you need me, as often as you need, to feel safe.” She plucked a tissue from the box and dried Darcy’s drippy nose.

  Darcy sniffed. “I promise.”

  “Francine was worried about you. She could see you were upset but she didn’t know why. She was caught between you telling her not to wake me and her instinct that you needed me.”

  “I didn’t mean to worry her.”

  “I want you to have as much autonomy as possible, but I’m going to tell her to trust her instincts in the future. Okay?”

  Darcy nodded.

  “So, how about we start the day over?”

  Darcy smiled. “Good morning, Dr. Trapani.”

  “Ah, good morning, Darcy. Sleep well?”

  “Better than I have in a while, except I had a nightmare.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Darcy looked puzzled. “Um, we already did.”

  Andrea smiled. “So we did. And that’s good because not talking about it makes it feel real.” She patted Darcy’s hand. “I hear the breakfast trays. I’ll brush your teeth, then after we eat I’ll wash you and we can talk business.” She looked up as the cart rolled in. “Ah, morning, Maria.”

  Maria moved the dishes to the bed tray.

  Andrea glanced at Darcy. “I’ll be staying, so you can proceed with the menu we discussed yesterday. And, if you give me a second I’ll get the menus I promised you.”

  As Andrea went into the bedroom, she heard Maria speak to Darcy. “Is good she stay, I think, cara.” She kissed Darcy’s cheek.

  “I think so too, zia.”

  “Here you go.” She handed Maria the menus and recipes. “By the way, what do we do about meals on the weekends?”

  “No worry. Gregg cooks.”

  Gregg? Really? He looks about fifteen? “Perfect. As long as he follows the diet.”

  Maria left and Andrea turned to Darcy. “Okay, let’s get some food in you.”

  “Coffee first.”

  Andrea raised the bed. “We’re on the same wavelength there.” She fixed Darcy’s coffee and held the straw to her lips. Then, she picked up the spoon to feed Darcy her cereal.

  “No. You have some coffee first, then I’ll eat.” Darcy watched Andrea fix her own coffee and drink some.

  “Do you like your fruit in your cereal or separate?”

  “Ban
anas in, berries on the side.”

  Andrea dumped the bananas into the cereal and spooned some into Darcy’s mouth. She grinned. “Remember, no croissants today so you’d better eat everything.”

  “You look awfully happy about depriving me of one of the few pleasures in my life these days. I hope you’re not a sadist.”

  Andrea fed her some berries. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

  “I’m sorry I gave you and Francine such a hard time.”

  Andrea spooned cereal into Darcy’s open mouth. “I understand, and I’m sure Francine does as well, that you’re very vulnerable right now. Being dependent is a bitch. It’s infantilizing and I imagine it’s very scary for someone who likely has never needed anyone on such a basic level, at least not since childhood.” She patted Darcy’s cheek. “It’s probably not the last time you’ll feel that anxiety. You can’t will the feelings away but it would be good to work on verbalizing them rather than trying to hide them and getting so worked up that your pressure goes sky-high.”

  “And, speaking of being dependent, my nose is running again. Could you—”

  “Of course.” Andrea reached for a tissue and held it to Darcy’s nose. “Want to blow or should I just wipe.”

  “Wipe.”

  She tossed the tissue.

  “Thanks, my nose always runs when I get emotional. Hey, let me rest a minute while you eat some breakfast.”

  When they’d both eaten, Andrea moved the dishes to the cart, then sat to talk. “Your chart says they put the catheter in three days ago because you refused to wear a diaper. I know using the bedpan is difficult but you risk infection by keeping the catheter in too long. I’d like to remove it before I wash you this morning. Is that all right?”

  “The night before they put the catheter in, I asked for the bedpan several times and the aide apparently didn’t hear me so I had an accident. The aide also didn’t hear my request to clean me and change the sheets and I lay there in my urine for almost four hours. The truth is I wasn’t very nice to her and she was getting back in the way she could. I fired her the next morning and before I knew it, the nurse came and put the catheter in, and not gently, I might add. Incidents like that happened all the time which is partly why I was in the state I was in when you came.”

  “I’m sorry. That was cruel and unprofessional, at the least.”

  “I guess I deserved it. But what happens if I have another accident?”

  “Oh, Darcy, nobody deserves to lie in urine. I promise to wash you and change the sheets immediately. And, if any nurse we bring in does anything less than that, I want you to scream for me and I’ll get rid of them on the spot. And make sure they have a bad reference.”

  “Okay, take it out.” She chewed her lip as she watched Andrea get ready to bathe her. “Doctor, I’m feeling anxious about you washing me.”

  Really? Is everything going to be an issue with this woman? “Why did you tell Francine I would wash you?”

  Darcy cleared her throat. Her eyes shifted to the windows. “Because, um, I didn’t know her.” She flushed. “And I wanted you to do it.”

  Andrea resorted to her ER face to prevent her amusement from showing. While it was true they had spent the day together, it wasn’t like she’d been caring for Darcy for weeks. “And now?” Andrea kept her back to Darcy. “Would you rather wait until Francine comes in tonight?”

  “No, I want you to do it.”

  She faced Darcy. “Why does it make you anxious?” That’s it, play dumb Andrea.

  “It’s so intimate.”

  “It is intimate, Darcy, but no more than the other things I’ve been doing for you. Does the idea of Francine washing you make you anxious?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why don’t we wait—”

  “No, I want you to do it.” Darcy looked down.

  Andrea studied Darcy. “I’m confused.”

  “Me too.”

  She put a finger under Darcy’s chin and lifted it so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “I’m your doctor, not a sexual partner. I wash you to make sure you’re clean and comfortable, not to turn you on. I’ll wash you this morning if you wish, but if I sense that you make it into something sexual, I’m going to insist that Francine, or whichever nurse is on, washes you in the evening. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was small.

  Andrea felt for her. Darcy was confusing being touched with sexual contact. Well, it was up to her to set the ground rules to keep this from getting too charged for both of them. “I’m not rejecting you, Darcy. You have a long way to go to get back on your feet. If you want me with you on this journey, we have to be clear about our relationship or things could get sticky and I’ll end up having to leave. I don’t want to do that. I want to be with you all the way, but—”

  “I get it. And, I’ll try to control myself. No. I will control myself.”

  “Good, so am I washing you or do you want to wait for Francine?”

  “You.”

  Damn. As she’d told Francine, working in the field with Doctors Without Borders she had often washed bloody or dirty patients, before operating or delivering a baby, and hadn’t given washing Darcy a second thought. But clearly Darcy had. And now Andrea was anxious. She reached for a pair of latex gloves. She wanted Darcy to enjoy being bathed but she didn’t want to turn her on, so she was self-conscious about her touch, striving for gentle and caring, but not too caring.

  Chapter Eight

  An hour later, she was washed, her hair brushed and the linens changed. She’d managed to stop fantasizing about Andrea and just focus on the pleasure of being touched. Even if it was a professional touch and not the caresses she longed for. She smiled at herself. It had only taken one day for the lovely doctor to become the girl of her dreams. She knew the truth was that she was vulnerable and needy and lonely so she’d focused on the one person she perceived as caring. But Andrea Trapani was pretty and sexy and she seemed intelligent and a lovely person to boot. Maybe too good for nasty old Darcy, but she reserved the right to fantasize about her whenever she wanted and to pursue her when she was back on her feet and able to pursue.

  “What’s so funny? You’re lying there with a big smile on your face and a faraway look. Was it that good for you?”

  “You can’t have it both ways, my dear doctor. No sexual innuendos allowed.”

  Andrea flushed. “Just teasing, but you’re right, I need to behave too.”

  Darcy grinned. Dr. Trapani looked uncomfortable. Had she caught the doctor flirting with her?

  Andrea waved the stethoscope. “Vital signs, then business.” When she finished, she said, “Your pressure is coming down but it’s still too high. So try to relax. Other than that you’re good.”

  The intercom buzzed and Andrea turned to hit the button. It was Maria. “Darcy, Candace wants to tell you she is coming at eleven to sign the papers for the agency lady and the doctor.”

  “Okay, Maria.” Darcy waited until Andrea switched the intercom off. “About fucking time she showed up.” The rage was back. She scowled at Andrea. “Did you call Candace?”

  “I have no idea who Candace is.” She put a hand on Darcy’s chest. “Calm down.”

  “She’s my attorney.” Darcy bit her bottom lip. “And supposedly my sist…friend. Gerri must have called her to come and take care of the contracts.” Her eyes filled. “I really do owe Gerri an apology and a thank you for making sure I was taken care of.” She blinked. “God, I hate being teary all the time.” She stared out the window for a minute. “So what’s this business you want to talk about? Are you going to demand a higher rate because I’m such a difficult patient?”

  Andrea smiled. “No, nothing like that. I’d like to get you some things I think would make you more comfortable, but they’re expensive and I’m not sure about how to pay for them.”

  “Like what?”

  Carlo came in to retrieve the cart with the breakfast dishes, stopped to kiss Darcy’s for
ehead, sniffed. “You smell nice this morning.”

  Darcy sniffed. “I do, don’t I. Thanks to the good doctor I’m starting to feel human again.”

  He smiled at Andrea, then turned to wheel the cart out. Watching him, Andrea asked the question that had been bothering her. “Carlo,” she asked in Italian, “do you and Maria carry trays up and down all those stairs?”

  He laughed. “No, Doctor. Usiamo l’accensore,” he said in Italian as he walked out.

  Stunned, she spun to face Darcy. “You have an elevator?”

  “Did you think they floated me up four floors? I had it put in when my mother was sick. It opens near the kitchen.”

  “Then it’s near the door to the garden?”

  “Exactly. We built a ramp so she could go into the garden. She loved to sit there and read.” Darcy sounded so wistful, it tugged at Andrea’s heart. And gave her an idea.

  “Back to business. I’d have to clear it with your surgeon but I was thinking I could order a chair for you, a recliner, but one that can bring you to an almost standing position. With the help of Carlo or Gregg I could move you in and out of bed without putting weight on your legs. They run several thousand dollars. What do you think?”

  “I wouldn’t have to be in bed all the time?”

  “That’s right. You could sit up in the chair or lie back if that’s what you wanted. We’d have to buy some loose clothing so you wouldn’t be nude when we move you.”

  “Are you trying to deprive Carlo and Gregg of the sight of my broken body or protect yourself from temptation?”

  Andrea chose to ignore the last part of that remark. “Carlo, Gregg and any other visitors you have. I think it would be a good idea if you invited a friend or two to visit you, to help break up the days. Maria told me you have lots of friends but none have visited. Why is that?”