Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold (35 page)

BOOK: Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold
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Jason groaned, but competitive sports had taught him to keep going when the going got tough. He dried her neck, shoulders, arms, and upper back.
Alrighty
. Then he toweled her ankles, calves and knees. He paused before touching her mid-back, buttocks, and thighs. “This is the red zone, Amanda. Once I get inside the 20-yard-line, I usually want to score.”

“Injury… patient. Remember? A doctor shouldn’t score with an injured patient.” She seemed to enjoy this too much; it clearly pleased her to know she still excited him.

Jason closed his eyes and rubbed her posterior, from mid-back all the way to mid-thighs. Sweat poured from his forehead and he held the damp towel near his belt buckle. “That dry enough? Let’s get you out of there.”

“Okay.” She turned and faced him.

His eyes grew large and there was another slight tremble in his hands. “Me holding you, or you holding me?”

“Coming out, I think I can hold onto you. If you’ll come a bit closer, that is.”

He moved slowly. She reached behind his back with her right arm and clutched his belt buckle again with her left hand. As she did, the damp towel fell away and Amanda could see why he’d held it there.

Very awkwardly, he helped her step over the shower ledge and take two more short steps to the center of the bathmat. “Here’s your crutches and your nightie thing. I need to step outside and get some air.”

Amanda’s smile had a dreamy look about it and she kissed his cheek lightly. “Thanks for all your help.”

“No problemo.” He left hurriedly, but his gait was affected.

———

Looking into the large mirror, Amanda realized she had not felt that alive in years. As she slipped the cotton nightdress over her damp hair, she thought she heard a tennis ball banging into the wall of the laundry house. Surely not the no-neck kid, not at that time of evening! She hobbled to her bedroom window and peeked out. Jason was taking out his frustration on the unsympathetic bricks.

He banged on those bricks for a good ten minutes while Amanda dried her hair and found her left slipper. She was seated on the couch when Jason came back inside.

“Thanks for your help, Jason. I’m sorry if it was awkward.” She wasn’t really.

He panted from the outside exertion. “I just want to ask you one thing.”

“Shoot.”

“When your foot heals up, we’re both going to get in that shower, together. Okay?”

It was more of a declaration than a question, but she nodded. “Sure.”

“And then you dry me off — back and front.”

Amanda just smiled slyly.

Jason pointed to the gallon bag still covering Amanda’s foot, and she nodded. He knelt down and gently peeled off the duct tape. After carefully removing the freezer bag, he softly dabbed a dishtowel around the top of her foot where some moisture had crept in.

“Did my bandages get wet?”

He leaned way over and peered closely. “Looks dry to me.” From that same position, he looked up at her face. “Do you have to put the boot back on?”

She nodded again. “Supposed to.”

“I think we left it in the bedroom. Be right back.” He returned with the blue canvas plank and very carefully placed it back on her right foot. He cradled her newly shaven calf for a few moments before apparently realizing his boot task was already complete. Amanda didn’t mention it.

They settled on the couch and watched the very end of a dramatic romance; then Amanda handed him the remote. “I think I’ll read for a bit. Anything you want to see?”

“I think there’s a pre-season NFL game this evening. Maybe the Titans are playing. No college football ’til September 5th.” He reached for the remote slowly, as though he thought she might jerk it back at the last moment. She didn’t. “You sure you don’t mind me changing?”

“No, I want you to change.” She’d answered a different question. “I mean… it’s fine. Go ahead and watch the game. I like watching you watch ballgames.” White lie.

“You do?”

“Sure. It’s interesting to see you get so riled up at the refs.” That part was true.

Jason surfed until he found the game. It took two complete runs through the entire sequence because a commercial was playing the first time he hit the correct channel.

By 10:30, Amanda was ready for bed. It had been a very long day.

Jason followed her down the short hallway and carefully helped her into bed.

“Ow!” She reached down toward her right leg. “Cramp!”

“Where?” Jason hurriedly sat on the bed beside her and pulled her leg straight. Then he placed her right ankle on his left shoulder and began massaging her calf. “Here?”

She groaned. “Yeah. Oh. Ow. Ow. Oh.” She lay back on the bed. “Sometimes when I… ow… can’t move my arch, it cramps up to my calf. Ow! Hurts like the devil.”

“Need some potassium. I’ll buy you some bananas tomorrow.” Jason continued kneading her muscle with strong and assertive hands. After a while he slowed his rhythm. “Still hurt?”

“No. It’s okay now, I think. Thanks.”

He gently lowered her leg to the bed but his hand remained under her calf. Amanda figured it seemed so natural there, Jason might not even realize he was still touching her. “Well, into the foot box.” There was disappointment in his voice. He helped guide her legs even though she didn’t really need the assistance. Jason leaned way down near her knees and peered into the box. “That ought to be enough room in case you need to move around a bit.” Her nightdress had ridden up her thighs and he stared for a moment before discreetly pulling down the hem. “Uh, if you get another cramp, just call out. I’m only 42 inches across that hall.”

“You’ve been a terrific help today, Jason. Thanks.”

As he adjusted her pillows, he leaned way over her face and it seemed — for a moment — they might kiss. She certainly wanted to. Jason looked deeply into her partly-closed eyes and surely could see her desire. His face moved slightly closer and, at the last second, his lips shifted to her forehead instead. “Doctor can’t kiss injured patient.”

She realized she was hungry for a real kiss… and more. Who was this new Jason who suddenly seemed so desirable? Whoever he was, he’d stirred up yearning in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. This was a very different man leaning over her pillows. She wanted to explore and discover the new world of Jason.

“Good night, Amanda.”

What a time for Jason to develop restraint!
Blistered butt-rash!

Chapter 25

August 23 (Sunday)

 

Amanda slept restlessly, in and out of light slumber. She kept thinking about the caring, new Jason who had emerged from the ashes of selfish, man-cold Jason.

Yesterday
. Despite all of Jason’s clumsy attempts to help, their incredibly embarrassing grocery experience, and the awkwardness of her shower — Amanda wished that seemingly endless Saturday had never ended.

Whatever was presently going on, she wanted more of it. Had Jason changed? She thought so. What if Christine was correct that the changes really had occurred mainly in Amanda’s own mind?
Doubtful
. Whichever individual had transformed — or if, perhaps, both had done so — the results were fantastically positive. Amanda saw him differently, yes. But Jason had shown alternate sides of himself which had never been viewed before. At least not by Amanda.

Jason’s own mother seemed unaware of such positive potential in her son. Could everything about this new Jason be attributed to his concern over Amanda’s injuries and his eagerness to assist?
Not likely
. Relatively minor injuries are insufficient motivation for a grown man to shift so abruptly and significantly. What had been the genesis of Jason’s caring attention, tenderness, and befuddled-but-sincere help around the apartment?

Amanda didn’t know. Jason wasn’t likely to explain, either, because he probably couldn’t discern it himself. As far as she comprehended, Jason didn’t do all that much thinking, especially not introspectively. So this change (whatever had happened) had to be the result of an instinctive shift, related to baseline emotions rather than mental analysis.

But what? Which emotion? To answer
love
was corny and not completely believable… yet it had to involve Jason’s reawakened awareness of his affection for her. If instinct, what type? Surely not
nurturing
— men don’t possess those genes. Not as far as Amanda had heard, anyway.

Protectiveness?
Perhaps
.

———

The lighted digital clock indicated 3:16 a.m. when Amanda woke suddenly.

She climbed out of bed and hobbled toward the bathroom without getting her crutches. It wasn’t very far and there were furnishings and walls to hold onto. The room was pitch black except for the clock display. Normally the edge of the window shade would reveal a sliver of illumination from the security light in the parking lot. Maybe that bulb was out; she’d have to call about it in the morning.

The dim display was enough to orient her; if she got up from the left side of her bed and the clock was presently behind her, then the bathroom was straight ahead. What happened to her boot? She couldn’t feel the hard plank sole. Had she removed it during her previous restlessness?
Don’t remember taking
it off
.

But something else seemed unusual. It was as though someone had rearranged her few pieces of bedroom furniture. In the dark, those furnishings seemed to shrink back from her grasp. It felt like there was additional space in the room — a greater distance between her bed and the sides of the bathroom and closet. As though someone had relocated those walls.

Things were very different when Amanda was in the dark.

There are people who move forward into blackness simply because they can’t be bothered to flip a switch only a few feet away. But there are times people stumble in the dark because no light is available. Amanda couldn’t locate the light and didn’t understand why.

She took two tentative steps, placing very little weight on her unbooted right heel. She reached with her left hand for the chair between her bed and dresser, but didn’t find it. One more tentative step and she nearly lost her balance. Surely the dresser was just over there.
No dresser
. She turned to her right, where she should encounter the antique highboy which stood against the closet wall, right next to a light switch.

Her arms moved in front and beside her as she took two more short, limping steps.
Nothing!
Empty space. How strange for her room’s dimensions to be so distorted merely by the absence of light. Her window had to be straight ahead, because she’d turned that direction after losing contact with the foot of the bed.

She pivoted to the right again. Best to head back to her bed and start over. A lamp was not far from her pillow. Another short, halting step. Hands out in front and to the sides… aimed low to find the bed’s footboard.
Nothing!

Amanda was becoming frightened. She took another short step and bumped her fractured toes against something. She yelped in pain, then stood in that spot and trembled. Tears flowed as she called out the name of the person she knew would rescue her: “Jason! Jason!”

Amanda awoke with his name still in her throat, and abruptly sat up in her bed.

Jason burst into her room and switched on the ceiling light. “What’s wrong?” He looked around like he’d expected to find a lurking panther. “You okay?” He landed on the edge of her bed and hugged Amanda tightly. Portions of her nightdress were soaked with sweat and she shivered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Amanda couldn’t form the words, but she now realized it had been a dream. With the room light on she could clearly see the chair, dressers, and walls were all in their proper alignment. Her tears soon stopped but her heart kept pounding under the thin cotton gown. “Dream… nightmare, I guess. Dark… couldn’t get oriented. Things weren’t where they belonged. Lost in my own room.” She hugged him tighter and shuddered again.

“You’re okay, Amanda. Everything’s all right.” Jason looked around as much as he could without turning his head, which was nearly fused to the top of Amanda’s. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Yes, it was okay. Partly because it had only been a dream, but mostly because Jason was there to comfort her.

He hugged her very tightly and then released. “Let me up for a minute and I’ll be right back.”

She was reluctant to loosen her intense grasp, but Amanda nodded and noisily inhaled the contents of her sinuses.
Where’d the tissue box go?
With large eyes, she watched him closely.

Jason went to her closet, turned on its lone bulb, and closed that door about three-quarters of the way. Then he turned off the overhead light and returned to her bed. “Scoot over a bit and I’ll lie here with you for a minute.”

Had she heard those words prior to Friday evening, Amanda would have assumed it was a clumsy maneuver to generate some comfort sex, but she knew the new Jason wouldn’t take advantage of a situation like this. And that was the key she’d been searching for: she could
trust
this new Jason!
Imagine!

He lay on top of the covers next to her and put his right arm under her neck. “Everything’s okay, Amanda.”

She melted into his right side and rubbed her tears onto his tee-shirt. With her head on his upper chest, she slowly relaxed and her heart stopped pounding.

After about ten minutes, Jason was sound asleep.

Amanda, however, was wide awake.

For another fifteen minutes, she tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t. With considerable difficulty, she extracted her feet from the cardboard foot box and slid out of her bed’s right side. With the light from the closet, she easily located her crutches and left slipper. She used the hall bathroom and then hobbled to the kitchen.

It was just now 3:10 a.m., several minutes before the time featured in her dream.

When sleep is elusive, there are always household chores needing attention. Amanda rescued the top rack dishes from Jason’s indiscriminate tossing to the dishwasher’s bottom section. Next, she sat at the table and segregated all of Jason’s snacks and treats. Then she merged the few new actual groceries with those from Christine’s large bag, which Margaret had unloaded, and put sticky notes on each sorted clump. With more sticky notes, she numbered each cabinet door which held foodstuffs.

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