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Chapter Thirty-Six


Nick slept on the couch that afternoon. I sat in the dining room, the lights dimmed, pouring over the information pack that Dr. Stanley had given me, studying it like it was a religious text and I was a shaman. I kept getting up and peering over the edge of the couch to make sure Nick was okay. The dogs laid in a knot at my feet, Nacho snoring loudly, curled against Rusty’s stomach.

Mostly the paperwork Dr. Stanley had provided were general information things. How to change the bandage that covered Nick’s head, how to clean the stitches, what to do if something went wrong. He wasn’t allowed to drive until cleared by a doctor, and the paperwork warned that could take as long as six months, depending on the progress of his recovery. Strenuous exercise was discouraged until cleared by a doctor, also. No running or fitness training, but things like walks were encouraged. He had to wear a shower cap in the shower until his stitches fully healed. There were certain foods that were recommended, a couple he was discouraged against eating. Information on his medications, the side effects I could expect from his radiation, how to help him, what was normal and what required medical assistance...

I shifted as my eyes flitted across the line about sexual activity.

Sexual activity is not discouraged. Patients will know when they are ready and activity, as long as it is not strenuous or extreme in nature, is perfectly healthy at any time following release from the hospital, as the patient sees fit.

I glanced into the living room.

I looked back down at the papers and cleared my throat and shuffled by it, trying to pretend my heart rate hadn’t increased. I’d let my mind stray to thoughts of Nick’s hands on me. It would be a lie to say that I wasn’t suffering withdrawals. My eyes kept straying back to that line.

I wondered what it was going to be like now, to sleep with him now that I knew he didn’t love me.

I mean I’d always believed he didn’t, but he’d never said it before.

Of course he hadn’t really said it now, but we’d come to an understanding.

When Nick woke up that evening, I greeted him with some dinner and we watched a TV show together, him laying on the couch still while I sat beside it on the floor, my back leaning against the arm of the couch. It didn’t take long for him to get sleepy again and I suggested we move him upstairs to his real bed, and I helped him up and guided him up the stairs, his arm over my shoulders. Nacho stood at the top, wagging his tail, encouraging his daddy-human on while Rusty took up the rear, like he was safe-guarding to make sure we made it okay.

Upstairs, I helped him into the bathroom. He blushed when he realized he couldn’t balance by himself just yet and I had to stay there with him. I’d been in the bathroom a hundred million times with him over the past eighteen years but something about needing me there and me just being there to brush my teeth or in the shower or something made it different. When he was finished, I set him down on the closed toilet seat and slowly, gently peeled away the bandage on his head. Underneath was the puckered line where the stitches Dr. Stanley had made once were, a curl that wound it’s way around Nick’s head. It made a queasy feeling roll through the bottom of my stomach. I tried to keep my breathing balanced.

“Is it really bad?” Nick asked.

“No,” I lied.

Nick closed his eyes and held still while I gingerly put some of the medicated solution Dr. Stanley had given him for cleaning onto a soft cottony pad like the ones I used to put make-up on in the mornings. I softly patted the cloth along the stitching line. The thought of that line having been split open… of Nick’s tumor that had been right under there… of someone’s hands reaching into the skull, into Nick’s brain… of him being so exposed, so broken… My hands shook, and I had to take extra care not to hurt him. He winced at each touch and I paused as his body jolted.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” he answered. “The stuff stings.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he replied.

It took us awhile to get through the cleaning. When we did, I laid fresh wrappings over the wound and secured them as gently as I could. His eyes were getting droopy from sleep by the time we were done and I smiled, “Time for bed, sleepy,” I said.

“Okay,” he nodded.

Guiding him out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom took a couple minutes, he was extra stumbly now that he was so tired. Slowly, I lowered Nick onto his bed and tucked him in under his blankets, which I’d washed the night before, knowing he was coming home today. “It feels good to be in my bed,” he commented.

“I bet it does,” I answered. I smiled and I helped Nacho up onto the mattress, and the lil guy pressed himself against Nick’s side, tight as could be. “Do you need anything? Water? Anything?”

Nick shook his head sleepily.

I started to the door.

“Wait,” he said.

I stopped and turned around.

“Where you goin’?”

“I was gonna go clean the kitchen then go to bed…” I said, confused.

Nick furrowed his brow. “You aren’t stayin’ with me?”

“I mean… I didn’t think…” I paused. He looked like a little kid finding out Christmas wasn’t coming. “You want me to stay in here?” I asked. He nodded. “Okay…” I walked back over and climbed onto the bed beside him, laying on top of the comforter.

He stared up at me from the pillow for a minute. “I don’t wanna be alone,” he said.

“I’m here,” I answered.

He nodded.

And he moved so his chest was pressed into the softspot of my chest, his cheek against my breast. He snaked his arms around my waist and he held me close, his breath warm even through my t-shirt, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling, already rhythmic with rest. I rubbed his back, my fingers scrawling across his spine, massaging a tight knot here or there, relaxing him at the muscular level.

I wanted to keep him safe from whatever the future brought.

After a few moments, Nacho moved himself so he was up against Nick’s back, his nose pressed into my palm, snoring within moments. I felt Rusty climb up and lay at our feet, his head resting on my ankle, and soon I, too, fell asleep, thinking how nice it was to be a part of this little ragtag team. We were like a funny little family.





Nick

The next week was a blur of days and nights similar to that first one. Sleeping on the couch between TV shows, then going for short walks on the beach while Jaymie played with the dogs, walking a little further each time, building up my stamina. We spent the nights all pig piled up in the bed, the blankets around us, keeping us warm, keeping us together.

It occurred to me I was indulging myself in everything I’d been afraid to. Jaymie was going to grow more attached, not distance herself, and the thought scared me because I knew the more personal it got, the more I would devastate her. And also the more it scared me to break it off with her, even if it was to protect her. After all, the more attached Jaymie got...the more attached I got, too.

It also occurred to me that I’d had a pretty solid list of things I needed to get done and with only the best-case scenario of eighteen months, I couldn’t afford to waste time. And here I was going on a whole week of wasted time.

We were sitting at the table, eating lunch, and it was Day Eight and Jaymie was reading the information pages Dr. Stanley had given her - again, for like the millionth time - absently poking at her bowl of tomato soup she’d made for us. I was dunking the crusts of my sandwich in the broth, trying to decide how to bridge into a conversation about the things I wanted to do that afternoon.

“I was thinkin’,” I said, breaking the silence. Jaymie looked up. “I’d like to go out today.”

“Go out?”

“Yeah. I gotta stop by the bank and also I need to see Jason.” Jason was my lawyer. I’d emailed him and asked about getting an appointment that week and he’d said to just stop by his office when I could and he’d make time for me.

Jaymie’s eyebrow raised.

“I got stuff I need to do.”

She licked her lips and put down the papers Dr. Stanley had given her. “You’re trying to do the whole putting your affairs in order thing, aren’t you?”

I chewed on my grilled cheese sandwich slowly. “It’s now or never,” I replied.

She shifted in her chair uncomfortably. I could tell she didn’t wanna think about me organizing myself and stuff, but she couldn’t really do much to argue with me or anything. “Okay,” she said.

We finished eating and got dressed - which was like a gymnastic feat in and of itself. I found myself wondering if I couldn’t put my own pants on how the hell I was gonna get done with everything I needed done before I - you know.

I was holding a briefcase on my lap, one that I’d bought years ago in a fit of fancy of becoming one of those slick suited businessmen back in the mid-2000s, when I’d taken on managing a band a friend of mine was in. The briefcase had my initials embossed on the front of it in little silver letters and had lived on the top shelf in the way far back corner of my closet for almost ten years.

“What are you going to do with a briefcase?” Jaymie asked, eyebrow cocked when I’d asked her to pull it down.

“Put things in it,” I answered, “Things I need to carry.”

She’d sighed and teetered on the little step stool, stretching her arms to reach it. It was covered with dust when she’d gotten it down, but a quick swipe with a paper towel and it was good as new. Mainly because it basically was new. I’d used it maybe twice.

“How do I look?” I’d asked, holding it securely once we’d cleaned it off.

“Like Rumpelstiltskin,” she replied.

After an hour and a half of getting ready, we were in the car and headed downtown. I was mentally running over exactly what I’d planned to do.

When we got to the bank, Jaymie pulled up close to the door and started to get out. “No,” I said, “You stay here.”

“But Nick, you --”

“Can do this on my own,” I answered.

Jaymie looked on worriedly as I pushed open the door and climbed out, bracing myself on the car door frame. I walked slowly, the way I walked on the beach, too, but I did okay. The briefcase was a bit obnoxious, but I’d need it once I got inside, and I wasn’t about to stop carrying it now anyway, not after all the hassle I’d put her through to get it down. When I got to the door of the bank lobby, I turned around and saw she still had that anxious look on her face. I waved and smiled and she smiled back, but weaker than I’d smiled at her, and I stepped inside.

“Good afternoon, sir,” a bank employee was standing behind a little podium to welcome me at the door. She was wearing a pink tweed skirt and jacket with pearls. Exactly what you’d expect a bank employee to wear in like the 1960s or something. “How can we help you?”

I took a deep breath, “I need to make a sizable withdrawal,” I answered, and I handed her a withdrawal slip I’d filled out already, torn from the back of my checkbook.

She stared at it a second, then looked up at me in surprise. “Are you sure this figure is correct? It’s just such a large --”

“Yes,” I replied. “That’s why I brought this.” I waved the briefcase.

She nodded. “Right this way,” and led me to an office.

Once I’d securely put all the money I’d withdrawn from my account into my briefcase - about 90% of my total balance - the bank employees followed me to the door and told me to have a good day. I walked slowly back to the car. Jaymie had turned on the radio and the deejay was babbling about some celebrity gossip story as I climbed in. Jaymie turned the volume down. “So.. how’d it go? You okay?”

“Yeah I’m good.” I put the briefcase on the floor. It was considerably heavier than it’d been before we’d started.

“Get everything you needed done in there?” she asked.

I nodded.

We stopped by Jason’s office next and once again I made Jaymie wait outside. Jason sat behind his big mahogany desk and listened closely while I detailed exactly what I wanted him to draft for me. He rubbed his fingers across his lips as he considered my requests. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked.

“I’m positive,” I replied.

“Okay.” He sat forward, staring down at the notes he’d written while I spoke. “Okay. I’ll get this drafted for you and I’ll give you a call when it’s ready for you to come down and sign it.” He stood up. He held out his hand, then seemed to hesitate, like he was unsure if it was kosher to offer to touch me. I shook his hand, though not as strongly as I once would’ve.

“You’ve been a big help,” I told him, “Thank you for all the work you’ve done for me over the years. I’ve appreciated it.”

He smiled, “I’ll call you,” he said.

I nodded.

Maybe it was only two errands but I was exhausted by the time I got back to the car. I sank into the seat, my feet on either side of the briefcase, and sighed. I looked over at Jaymie.

“Tired?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Okay. Home it is then,” she said and she backed out of the lot. I watched the way the sun made shadows from her eyelashes as she drove and the way her mouth moved around words, and I felt my eyelids droop. I felt better already, just knowing I’d taken the first steps to making sure she was taken care of.