On the way to the hospital I stopped off at the Fellowship of the Bean coffee hut and bought Diane’s favorite white mocha along with an extra large black coffee for myself.
A new woman sat at the visitor’s desk. An early morning crankiness crackled beneath her sweet smile and brightly knit sweater. No soft smile when she told me I’d have to stay in the waiting room until official visiting hours since I wasn’t family.
Diane’s coffee cooled while I squirmed in the uncomfortable chairs facing a lone television playing a Seattle morning show. Talk of flooding, raging rivers, and mudslides were the big stories. I scanned outside and could see rain still poured down from the late spring storm. It looked and felt more like March than May.
May.
I still didn’t know if Diane was leaving. Neither Donnely nor Maggie believed she’d be moving away when her lease ended. Somehow the topic had never come up between us. Thinking back, it was strange we hadn’t talked much about the future. Lately we hadn’t been doing very much talking at all.
Thoughts of naked Diane took over my mind. The way her back arched and the color when her nipples darkened when I licked …
A cough broke me out of my thoughts. I shifted in the chair and tried to relieve the pressure in my groin without using my hand. I glanced up to see a young doctor wearing Birkenstocks with socks standing in front of me.
“Are you here for Diane Watson?”
Despite her snarl, the woman at the front desk must have let someone know I was here to take Diane home.
I nodded and picked up her coffee from the table next to my chair before standing.
“I’m Dr. Scott,” he said and stuck out his hand.
I straightened to my full height and shook his hand, my grip extra firm. “John Day.”
The doctor smiled at me.
Why was I acting like a caveman to Diane’s doctor? The flash of gold on his finger confirmed what she told me.
“Is she ready to leave?”
“Not yet, but she’s dressed and you can see her. We’re finalizing her paperwork.”
“Is she okay? I know what she told me yesterday about being here for observation, but it isn’t anything serious, is it?”
“Head injuries are always serious, but she only has a mild concussion. We kept her because she lives alone. She’ll be fine. Cast can come off in about six weeks, then she’ll need some PT to regain her muscle strength. Nothing too bad. She’s lucky. Good thing she was in a Jeep.”
She’s lucky
. It all came down to luck? Whether you die or walk away with a bump on the head? Could it be that simple?
I nodded at him again. “You need anything from me?”
“No, you can go to her room. Take good care of her.”
“I will.” A promise.
Diane sat on her bed fully dressed. Yesterday’s clothes were rumpled and she probably needed a shower, but she looked better out of the ugly hospital gown.
My salmon lay in her lap and she absently played with a fin while she talked on the phone.
I waved to let her know I was here and held up her coffee, before gesturing I’d wait in the hall.
She waved me over and mouthed she was talking with her parents. I handed her the lukewarm cup and she smiled.
After a few minutes of reassuring them she was fine and swearing she had someone to take care of her, she hung up.
“Hi,” she said.
“Sorry the coffee’s probably cold. I had them put it in two cups to insulate it, but I sat out in the lobby for a while.”
She took a sip and moaned in happiness. “White chocolate mocha. My fave. You remembered.”
“I did. Is it hot enough? I can find a microwave and try to reheat it or something.”
“It’s perfect. While the hospital food might be edible, the coffee the nurse brought me earlier tasted like dirt, watered down puddle mud.” She frowned and stuck out her tongue.
I smiled at her adorable frown. “That was your mom on the phone?”
“Both of them sharing a receiver. My mother wanted to fly out here and my dad wanted to know where my doctors attended medical school. Typical parental stuff.”
“Is your mom coming out? You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I thought I had a neighbor who was going to make sure I was looked after properly.” She smiled at me and sipped her coffee.
“Are you talking about Dave? Cause I wouldn’t trust him not to peep through your drawers.”
“No, it’s you.” She gave me a small smile. “If you want the job.”
“Consider it a done deal. When are they springing you?” I asked from my chair near her bed.
“Any minute. Dr. Scott said it would be about twenty minutes.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
My expression told her I didn’t believe her.
“I’m okay. Stuff hurts today that didn’t hurt yesterday and I’m desperate for a shower. I’ll have to bag my arm because the cast can’t get wet.”
“I can help if you need it.” The eagerness in my voice surprised me. And her.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t. I want to. Plus, I’ve seen you naked already. It won’t be awkward.”
She held her side when she laughed. “No, not awkward at all.”
“What?”
“Honestly?”
I was completely lost at why it would be awkward. I told her as much.
“It’s not you seeing me naked that’s awkward. It’s all the other stuff that goes along with the naked.”
“If you think I’m going to try to have sex with you, I promise I won’t.”
“Won’t because you don’t want to or won’t because you’re concerned about my injuries?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it instead. Then opened it again when I found the words. “Why would you think I wouldn’t still want to have sex with you?”
“The whole not talking for almost two weeks thing?”
Right. That.
“One thing you should know about men, is even if we’re in a fight or sick or injured, we’ll still want to have sex.”
Her answer was a roll of her eyes.
“It’s true. Want me to prove it?” I stroked my bottom lip with my thumb.
“Oh my god, you’re not serious.” Her voice raised and she flailed her good arm around. “Hello? Hospital!”
“Think how much fun the adjustable bed could be.”
She ignored me. “We’re not having sex until we talk.”
I frowned and shifted, clasping my hands between my knees. “The ‘we have to talk’ talk is always ominous.”
“Ominous or not, we do need to talk.”
I exhaled and squared my shoulders. “Okay. We’ll talk. In fact, I have things I want to say, too.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“I do. But not here and not until we get you settled.”
A nurse guiding a wheelchair into the room interrupted us to say Diane could go home. She handed Diane some forms and told us her prescriptions could be picked up in Freeland.
“Ready to be sprung?” I asked, gesturing to the wheelchair.
“Ready.” She sat in the wheelchair, cradling her fish, and then smiled up at me.
I kissed the top of her head before the nurse wheeled her down the hall.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” I said.
“I’ll be fine. I swear.” Diane crossed her arms and put on her stubborn face.
“You can swear about being fine all you want. Doctor’s orders you shouldn’t be alone. I took the day off work, you’re stuck with me.”
“Hmmph,” she said under her breath.
“So what do you want to do first? Shower? Eat? Nap?”
“I need to figure out what to do about the Jeep. I don’t even know where it was towed.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“You know something about where it is?”
“I might.” I dragged a knuckle over my mouth.
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Are you going to be mad?”
She huffed. “No promises.”
“It’s at Steve’s garage.”
“How’d it get there?” Her eyes were leery.
“Called him this morning. If anyone can fix it, it’ll be him.”
“You took over?”
“I did,” I said without regret. “You misunderstood my words about islanders. We help each other out. Even Traci understands how things work around here.”
“I thought you said I was a spoiled, naïve, wealthy city girl.” Her words sounded weary and she confirmed the feeling by curling up on the sectional by the windows.
Had I said all those words? I tried to retrace our conversation on the beach. “You’re twisting my words. I never called you that.”
“Not all at once, but you spoke those words.”
I had.
“Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
“It might. What are you sorry for, John?”
What was I sorry for?
“It’s a long list. But in this case, I’m sorry for shutting down on you at the beach and ruining our weekend.”
She stared at me with her sleepy eyes. “Thank you.”
Her eyes closed and her head sank heavy on the pillow in the corner of the big gray couch. I watched her body slump. The tension she held on the ride back to the house left her shoulders.
It was May, but the rain chilled the air, leaving the house feeling damp and cold. While she napped I could build a fire. After a quick mental inventory of what food I had at the house I frowned. Other than some cereal, smoked salmon and a freezer full of fish, I had nothing to feed her.
I covered her with a blanket, and wandered over to the kitchen, doing a quick inventory. Her shelves were about as bare as mine, but she did have boxed macaroni and cheese, which I could manage to cook.
A fire in the wood stove heated the room while pasta boiled on the stove. I snuck next door to let Babe out and he wandered around in the driftwood on the beach. After a quick phone call to my aunt, I headed back next door.
On the stove, the pot of water had boiled over, making a mess. Scalding water splashed on my hand on the way to the sink.
“Shit!” I said loudly, louder than I meant because Diane stirred on the couch and squinted at me.
I gave her a wave from my spot by the sink. “Hey, sorry.” Steam rose from the pasta when I transferred the pot back to the stove.
“Isn’t this how we met?” She nodded to the wood stove.
“How so?”
“Fire in the wood stove and me finding you randomly standing in the house. Oh, and the cursing.”
I smiled. “Yeah, it’s kind of like that morning. Without the smoke and the fire alarm.”
“Far less dramatic.” She stretched and winced.
“You sore?” I glanced at the clock. “You can take some pain meds with lunch.”
“Is that what you’re making?”
“Yep. The best Kraft has to offer.”
“John Day, you’ll never stop surprising me.”
“You didn’t have many options. But I’ve got that covered.”
She gave me a sidelong glance before getting up from the couch and shuffling over to the counter. “It smells delicious.”
I shrugged, feeling awkward because I was making her lunch. “It’s only boxed macaroni and cheese. You hungry?”
“Sure.” She stood on her toes and attempted to reach the bowls in the cabinet, but stopped and took in a sharp breath.
“Here, let me.” I took down two bowls and handed them to her.
“Thanks,” she said, but her eyes didn’t meet mine.
I exhaled long and deep, gathering myself. Getting back to normal with her wasn’t going to be easy, but it would be worth it. That much I knew.
We ate in silence and then she said she was going to take a shower.
“I’ll wrap your arm so your cast won’t get wet.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but that’s not going to stop me. Until you tell me to leave, I’m staying. Do you want me to go?” Feeling insecure, I lifted my eyebrows and scratched the back of my neck while I waited for her answer.
She sighed and smiled at me. “Okay, you can help. We still need to talk, but today I need a shower. And your help.”
I met her smile with my own. “Done. Plastic bag and some tape?”
“Junk drawer.”
After cutting the tape, her left arm was waterproofed as best it would get.
“I’m going to head upstairs.”
“Holler if you need me.” I paused and decided to push my luck. “Or want company.”
“Not that again. Keep it in your pants, Day.” She laughed and shuffled away, shaking her head.
I chuckled while I tidied up the kitchen. Didn’t take much to rinse out a pot and two bowls. The water turned on upstairs.
At the sink, I closed my eyes. Images of Diane and I in the shower at my house floated through my mind. Her dark hair almost black with the water, droplets winding their way over her breasts, down the curve of her waist, further dropping into the dark hair below her navel. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see that vision again in person.
My wet fingers moved across my forehead and scratched along my hairline, and my palms pressed into my eyes. I rubbed my hands in circles over my face a few times and exhaled, trying to stop my mind from sending all the blood to my cock.
And failed.
“John?” Diane’s shouted from upstairs. “John?”
I stepped over to the stairs. “Yeah?”
“Can you come help?” She sounded desperate.
I took the stairs two at a time and raced down the hall to the bathroom. “You okay?”
She sat on the closed toilet lid still wearing her shirt and stretchy black pants. “I’m stuck.” She held up her plastic bag arm and pouted.