Hitting the Bottom Ch. 03

"You wanna know how Naomi's doing, Dan?"

SLAM.

Jon's question feels like a punch in the gut, knocking me out of breath. Shit. I feel faint. My knuckles tighten on the arm-rest, my other palm rubbing nervously up and down my thigh trying to wipe the sudden cold sweat off onto my jeans. I can barely get the words out through my tightly-ground teeth.

"Yes, please." Just make it quick because I feel like I'm gonna throw up. I gulp down hard again to stave off the rising sensation.

Jon appraises me through narrow eyes, but thankfully doesn't draw out the silence for long.

"She's working through it, with the help of her boyfriend. It hasn't been easy for her, but she's working through it. Annie says she sounds better every day, and that she believes Naomi's going to be all right. Thankfully she's not alone, and is getting the support she needs."

She's working through it and she's going to be all right.

The words echo and spin in my head, round and round and round, amplifying the dizziness and at the same time the sickness in my gut seems to lessen. She's going to be all right.

I slump back resting my head against the worn pillow, close my eyes again and wait for the room to stop spinning. My hands are shaking. My whole body is shaking. I feel fine tremors running through me and my belly is quivering. I simply lie back against the sofa and let the storm of relief blow through me.

She's going to be all right.

I realize how I was simply too scared to even think about it over the past few days. It was too much for me to try to handle. Instead I held on to the memory of Naomi at the airport where she was being as strong and as brave as ever, telling me to 'find my happiness and let her have hers', but I have kept any other thoughts of her solidly out of mind, sensing instinctively that I couldn't face them.

Now I recognize how badly frightened I was to learn the true scope of the damage I'd caused, and just how relieved I am to know that it's not all irrevocable.

Naomi's going to be all right.

Maybe I can be all right, too.

"Hey Dan... You okay buddy?" Jon's voice brings me back to the here and now. I open my eyes and answer, my reply coming out somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"Y-yeah."

Thankfully Jon seems to understand the depth of emotions in that one syllable, and also knows me well enough to take pity on me and save me from having to dwell on them for too long.

"All right. So back to the logistics. As I was saying I don't like the thought of you being all alone here for days on end. Not to mention you still have all those bandages that need replacing and some meds to keep taking and the likes, but seeing the state you're in it would be hard for you to get your ass over to the clinic every day. So for the time being I've arranged for a home nurse to come in twice a day to check up on you and do whatever needs to be done."

"What?!" I just gape at him in disbelief. Jon shrugs.

"It was actually Annie's idea, to be honest. She wouldn't have you as a houseguest but she did see my point about you needing someone to watch over you for a while. She offered this as a compromise."

"So you got me a babysitter."

I keep my tone flat by a thread; the alternative would have been shrieking with indignation. I am close to being as humiliated as I was in the fucking hospital shower getting an involuntary hard-on from being crippled-washed.

Jon has the audacity to be amused in the face of my distress. "Yes. You gotta problem with that?"

I literally sputter until finally I roar out: "HELL YEAH I GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT!"

Jon laughs out loud right back in my face. The bastard. "Sorry mate, you'll need to suck it up and play nice. I don't think Sandra will take kindly to that foul mood of yours."

"W-what did you say?" I feel myself deflate, the hot-aired anger leaving my body in a whoosh. I couldn't have heard that one right, could I?

Jon looks at me curiously but repeats his words, amusement still lingering in his eyes. "I said, I would advise you to be on your best behavior, because I suspect Nurse Sandra would not hesitate to whip your ass back into shape."

Shit. Hearing Nurse Sandra, Whip and Ass all in the same sentence is SO not what I need right now.

Focus, Dan.

"You got Nurse Sandra to babysit me? The one from the hospital?" Careful Dan. Keep it down.

"Yes, the one from the hospital. Yes, I got her to provide home nurse services this week, working her visits around her schedule. We'll talk again in a few days and depending on your progress decide if you need her next week as well." His amusement is now gone, and the curiosity has turned into suspicion in his tone. "I thought she seemed professional and nice enough at the hospital. Is there a reason you don't want her to be the one coming over? Would you like me to find someone else?"

"No!"

Shit, that came out too quick. I gulp and try again, keeping my cool best as I can.

"No, it's fine. It's just... when did you speak to her about it? Last night..." I pause but then seeing Jon's raised eyebrow decide I might as well come clean. "Last night we got to talking a bit more..." I almost said intimately. Shit. "Anyways we hung out together last night, I told her about my plans for the future, she told me about her school... but it kinda ended on an awkward note. I'm not sure if she'd feel comfortable giving me home care, to be honest. I was a bit of a jerk, I think."

"Whoa... what?!" Jon looks dazed. He shakes his head as if to clear it and starts again. "Your plans for the future - oh that sounds rich, Dan, and I'd love to hear all about those, too -" He might as well have said 'stop bullshitting me' - "but let's focus for a moment on you being a jerk, shall we? Care to explain that?"

He looks like he's going to pound into me again like he did the other night; obviously I got some damage control to do, and quick.

"Wait, wait! No, it's NOTHING like that. Chill out, will ya?!"

Jon's shoulders relax slightly with his exhale but his expression is still thunderous. "Speak." He almost spits the word at me, and when I hesitate he adds tersely: "Now, Dan."

"All right! All right. Jeesh. All I meant was -" I shrug, and then hurry again as Jon huffs impatiently at me. "Ugh. As I said we got to talking. I told her about this idea I had to become a handyman - I wanted to tell you about it last night but didn't get the chance - and then she started telling me about herself and her family, and it somehow got to the topic of why she's still not married and what it was she was looking for in a man..." I gulp and think quickly what to say without getting into any details.

"Anyways I listened and she talked and at some point she looked like she needed a hug so I gave it to her..."

"You WHAT?! Are you OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" Jon is all but shouting at me and looks like he's having a hard time keeping his distance and not strangling me with his bare hands.

"No! Jon listen to me. Nothing happened. I swear. I gave her a hug. A brief one. A half-hug, really, since both of us were sitting in our respective chairs. That's all. And then I split - because I knew even that was wrong of me to do. I can't do that. I know that. That's why it ended awkwardly between us. That's what I meant when I said I was kind of a jerk. Because we talked and we shared cookies and tea and we laughed and we hugged and then all of a sudden I gave her the shoulder. It's... Urgh!"

I throw my hands up in frustration. I would have run them through my hair except my head is all bandaged up. I'd jump up and pace but I can't really do that, either. Pathetic loser.

Jon is eying me closely. At least he lost the murderous glare. I may be safe for now. He seems to weigh his words carefully when he finally speaks.

"What do you mean, you 'can't do that'? Can't do what?"

I swallow hard through my dry throat. Damn but there's no escaping this guy. I have no choice but answer honestly. "I can't like her. I can't... be thinking about getting close to a woman again. It's too risky. I know that."

Jon just stares at me for the longest time. Then finally he mumbles:

"Well I'll be damned. I did not see that one coming."

He snorts at my confused expression. "Oh c'mon Dan, don't give me that look. You like her. So much so that you actually thought about getting closer to her. Fuck!"

He motions his hand behind him and I realize he's fishing for the cell phone in his back pocket. I reach out and grab his arm with mine without thinking.

"Wait!"

Jon freezes for a moment and then slowly completes his action, drawing the phone out, but doesn't move to make a call. Instead he waits.

"Jon... yes. I like her. I... have had some... pleasant thoughts about her. But I'm not stupid. And in spite of every evidence to the contrary I need you to believe me when I tell you that I have not completely lost my faculties, either. I know she is off-limits, and I promise you I will remember that when she comes over here to change my bandages and give me my meds twice a day. So please, just... leave it be, alright? If she's okay with helping me for the next few days then I'm okay with it, too, and I promise to be the perfect gentleman. Please?"

Now it's my turn to wait as my friend and partner looks me up and down, weighing his options. Finally he asks:

"Why, Dan? Why risk it? Why complicate things?"

Why, indeed?

I mull that one over in my head, and finally give it a shot. "Because she's the first person in a long time who I've managed to connect with, to have a real conversation with. She made me feel normal, Jon, if only for a little while. I enjoyed her company. If I'm going to have a babysitter, I'd really like for it to be someone who's fun to hang around with."

Jon seems undecided still. I dig my heels in.

"Jon, you're my best friend, and I appreciate everything you've done for me. I do. But I'm not nuts enough to have you as my guardian. At the end of the day this is my decision to make, not yours. And I'm telling you - I promise you - I'm not going to fuck this up."

I see him nod his head slowly at that and I smile because I know him well enough to know it means I got the upper hand. But just to be on the safe side I quickly add - "Besides... Sandra could use the extra cash. She's putting herself through college; this would be a good short gig for her."

Jon relents. Bless his soul.

"All right, Dan. Fine. Just so you know, the reason I'm agreeing to this is that I spoke with Sandra about all this only this morning - I called the ward just before the night shift ended - which means she agreed after whatever it was that went on between the two of you last night. So you must have not been as big of a jerk as you think, or she would have said 'no'. So fine, we'll leave the plan as-is."

I feel a faint smile fleet across my mouth as I slowly release my breath. "Thanks Jon."

He presses his lips into a thin line and then speaks in a quiet menacing voice that would have made me quiver if it weren't coming from my best friend. "But so help me God, Dan, if you hurt that woman in any way, you're a dead man. I'd personally see to that. You hear me?"

My smile widens in spite of me. "Yes, sir!" And then I add because I can't help it - "how old is your daughter, Jon?"

"She's twelve, why?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "Oh, I just had a vision of you coming out to the porch with a shotgun to greet her first boyfriend hello".

Jon growls at me. "Shut up, Dan. Before I change my mind."

I wink but keep my mouth shut. Jon gets up to his feet and pauses there for a moment. "Will you be all right here until this afternoon Dan? Sandra should be in around 2pm."

"Yes, Mother. I'll be fine, I swear."

Jon makes a face and strides over into my office, and I hear the rattle of keys and then the drawer being pulled open and shut. Ah, the gun. He comes back a moment later carrying my police-issued equipment in his hands, my gun in its holster strapped to his torso. He takes a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me along with a pen.

"Sign."

I unfold the paper and take a quick peek at it. Jon's signature is already there on the bottom; it's a release form of sorts listing the items being removed from my possession and taken by Jon.

I sign and date my signature, surprised at how steady my hand is.

"There."

Jon takes the signed form and folds it back into his shirt pocket. "Sorry, pal."

"I know Jon. Not your fault."

"Yeah. I - I'll see you tomorrow, all right? I'll swing by around lunch."

"Sure, yeah. That'd be good, Jon. See you tomorrow."

A moment later the front door closes behind Jon's back and I feel a small chill run down my spine and a soft, warm sensation fills my insides as expectation settles over me.

Sandra will be coming over this afternoon. I can't wait to see her again.

*

Her soft knock wakes me up from my light dozing on the living room couch. I pick up my mobile from the cushioned arm behind my head and take a peek. 2pm sharp; the lady is punctual.

"Just a sec!"

I call out loud enough to be heard through the door and then will myself to go carefully as I lift myself up to a sitting position, when all I want to do is leap to my feet and rush to open the door. Take it easy, Dan.

I breathe slowly, lean forward and push myself upright without leaning on anything. Success. Walking over to the door I marvel at the lack of dizziness, only a slight hazy fuzz still lurking at the very edges of my vision. I reach for the handle and pause, taking another calming breath before pressing it down and swinging the door open.

"Hi." Sandra smiles tentatively at me and I feel my guts tighten as the impact of seeing her face slams into me.

Damn, damn, damn.

She must have run up the whole three floors. Her breath comes out in quick little puffs. Her hair is pulled back in its practical ponytail but small wisps of blond have escaped to caress her smooth, flushed cheeks, calling me to brush them behind the cute little shells of her ears. I fist my fingers to stave off the temptation. I can see the pulse fluttering quickly at the base of her throat and her skin looks a little sweaty in the narrow V of her white uniform, which stretches ever so slightly over her round, full breasts with each one of her quick intakes of air.

Fuck. Down, boy.

Instead of the white blouse-and-pants type uniform I'd seen her wear at the hospital, today she's wearing a uniformed dress - an all white, front-buttoned, short-sleeved tailored cotton dress that stops just above the knees. It shows off her shapely arms and a good part of her smooth legs before they disappear into ankle-high white sport socks and sneakers. And to top it all off she's carrying a purple-and-pink backpack which somehow pulls her shoulders slightly backwards and forces her chest to stick out in a way that makes it extremely hard not to linger my gaze there.

I gulp and return my eyes up to hers. The flush on her cheeks had deepened and there's a bit of apprehension in her eyes, and I realize my open scrutiny must have just made her uncomfortable. Shit.

"I - hey. Sorry for staring, I just..." Damn. Drop it Dan. I shake my head slightly and clear my throat again. "Thank you for coming. Please, come on in." I pull the door open wider and step back, making sure there's plenty of room for her to pass.

Sandra hesitates for a moment before accepting my invitation, walking slowly into my apartment and pausing a few steps in, waiting for me to close the door behind her. I do, and then turn back to her, indicating towards the living room. Mind your manners, Dan. Be civil. It's been a while but you can do this.

"Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

Sandra looks surprised and a bit undecided, but then walks over to the single chair, drops her backpack to the carpet beside it and sits down, propped on the edge as if ready to bolt.

"Sure, yes - some cold water would be good. I actually walked over from my place; I didn't take into account just how hot it was going to be at this time of the day. I was also behind time, so i ran the stairs to catch up. Frankly I'm parched."

So that explains her heavy breathing and why she ran three flights. "Yes, it is unusually hot today even for summer, isn't it?" I say as I walk over to the kitchen. Good. Talking about the weather is good. Safe. Keep it up. I get a glass and some ice from the fridge and pour the water, then carry it back to the living room and hand it to Sandra.

"There you go. It's tap water - I don't have any bottled around; hope that's okay?"

"Thanks, sure that's fine" she mumbles as she takes the glass from my hand, avoiding my fingers. Is that on purpose? I wonder to myself but say nothing else as I walk over and lower myself carefully down to the sofa again, trying hard not to stare at Sandra draining the cool water in a few hearty gulps.

"Ah, that's so good! Thanks Dan." She says with a smile as she puts the empty glass on the low coffee table, and then stands up, her hands on her hips in an all-business, in-charge type of stance.

"All right Dan, let's get to it, shall we? Why don't you show me around the place so that I can assess the lay of the land and give some recommendations on what needs to be done?"

"Ahm, er, sure, follow me please." I'm not really sure I know what she means but don't see a reason to say no. Showing the place to a new guest is the polite thing to do, after all, and I have already committed myself to brushing up on my social skills. I lead the way into the kitchen first and Sandra follows, shocking me by moving straight to the fridge and opening it as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to do, and starts taking inventory of its contents.

"I see you have quite a lot of ready-to-heat homemade dishes here which is a nice surprise, but you're missing on some of the essentials - perishables and fresh produce. Given the state of your lips and jaw I think you'll find eggs, yogurt, hot cereal and fruit shakes to be easiest to handle which means we'd need to stock up on those. I'm going to move some of this food over to the freezer because it will be a few more days before you can handle it."

It's not a question and she doesn't even wait for my acknowledgement before she goes on to rearrange the food in my fridge. I just stand there and stare open-mouthed. I see her point, of course I do, but her take-charge approach grates on my nerves. I swallow my irritation. After all she's here to help and it would do neither one of us any good if we butted heads at every turn. But my annoyance needs some kind of venting, and eventually I succumb to it letting my voice ring with irony as I retort:

"Yes, ma'am".

She turns and raises a delicate, dark-blond eyebrow at me in what I can only interpret as a chiding scowl, but I can detect a hint of smile on her lips. The combination does strange things to my insides. I pivot quickly to continue our tour and the too-swift movement results in me grasping the doorframe and leaning over as subtly as I can while the darned dizziness settles.

I can hear Sandra behind me clearing her throat as if getting ready to say something, but then no words follow. Instead there's a short pause in which we both wait quietly for me to regain my balance. Once I do I straighten up again and mumble to Sandra to follow me please, and lead the way to my office. I click the lights on and step in and to the side and she comes in after me, again surprising me by walking straight over to the chair - a wheeled one, with no armrests - and folds her arms across her chest, a disapproving look on her face when she turns back to me.