Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 03

"You're going to take care of me."

"Yes."

"Wait on me."

"Hand and foot."

"Where's my milk?"

"I can't get you any yet."

"Why not?"

"The kind."

"What?'

You didn't tell me the kind, white, skim, chocolate, buttermilk?"

"Yuk, I don't like buttermilk."

"OK, what kind then?"

"All the other kinds."

Just then the nurse on duty walked in, "How are we doing?"

Laurie looked up at the nurse, "He won't bring me anything to drink."

The nurse smiled; she looked from Laurie to Peter, "What can I get you?"

Laurie smiled at Peter then whispered to the nurse, "Just a little water I guess."

Peter thought to himself, 'yes she's starting to feel a little better.'

The nurse got another cup, poured some water in from the sink, and handed it to Laurie.

Laurie thanked the nurse, smiled sweetly at Peter, and daintily drank some of the water, "Mm, this is really good; better than milk even."

The nurse smiled at Peter, "I have her paperwork ready. She can leave as soon as we settle up."

Peter followed the nurse to the front desk where they handed him the bill, several prescription forms, a set of instructions, and some phone numbers.

When Peter saw the bill he almost passed out. He signed off using the credit card, and followed the nurse back into the sick room where she got Laurie to sign off on some paperwork, mostly legal stuff freeing the clinic from any litigation.

The nurse looked in the closet for Laurie's attire, "Come we'll get you dressed." She stepped back; everything was covered with sand and crud, "Do you have anything else?"

Peter leaped to his feet, "I have some clothes in the truck. I'll be right back." He ran to his truck, grabbed some furry slippers, a set of pajamas, a Tee shirt, one of the pairs of boxers, and one of the flannel robes.

He was back in a jiff; he handed everything to the nurse, "Here you go."

The nurse laid everything out. She stared back at Peter incredulously, nice slippers, love the panties."

Laurie laughed.

Peter blushed.

They used a wheel chair to get her to the truck. He lifted her in the cab, wrapped a blanket around her, got in on his side, turned it on, and started for his condominium. He looked over at her; he thought she looked really pretty, "You still want some milk?"

"Ice cream."

"Let me get you home first. There's a stand right up the street; any particular flavor?"

"Butter Pecan."

"Just in case got a second choice?"

She glanced over and grinned, "Yes, Butter Pecan."

He shrugged, "OK."

She laid her head back on the seat.

He wished he had the old fashioned bench seats; the buckets seats kept him from holding her, and he really wanted to do that.

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They got to his condo; he carried her up the steps, through the foyer and on upstairs to his apartment. He opened the door, sat her in a big old easy chair he'd bought years before, and then proceeded to prepare the bed. He pulled down the cover sheet, fluffed the pillows, he had four big old goose feather pillows, picked her up, slipped off her slippers, slipped her out of her robe, and placed her in the middle of the bed. He pulled up the cover sheet, laid a thick old quilt on top of that, tucked it in around her head, and stood back, "Are you OK for me to go get your prescriptions and your ice cream?"

Laurie was lying in the middle of this old fashioned double bed, quilt swaddled up around her head and buried in the middle of a big thick pillow.

To Peter she looked comfortable, but in fact her fever was back, and she felt terrible. She asked, "May I have some Tylenol please?"

"I have some regular Tylenol. I guess they'll have to do until I get the stronger prescription ones."

She was starting to lose it again. She smiled up wanly, "They'll do fine."

He grabbed a coke, twisted open the lid, held out three pills, and watched as she took the pills and drank some of the coke.

She whispered, "I'm awfully tired."

He sat on the side of the bed, "Go ahead, and go to sleep. I'll get your medicines a little later. I'll get the ice cream then too."

She was nearly gone. She'd completely forgotten about the ice cream. He guessed that she had.

++++++++++++

The next two days were spent with Peter hovering, dozing, and doting, while she slept and whined. There were intermittent spells of hallucination, but nothing like what had happened at the clinic. Mostly she was disoriented, tired, achy, and in need of sleep.

Throughout her early convalescence, if that was what it was, he concentrated on keeping her medicated, hydrated, and fed. Every night he said a little prayer thanking the Campbell's Soup Company for Chicken Noodle, Chicken Rice, and their vegetable soups.

Of course she had other needs; there was the toilet, tooth brushing, and bathing, but he was ready. The bathroom had been added recently so it lacked some of the finer points. The tub was smallish, and the shower head had an over eager water saver. He got around the water saver by buying a hand held shower head from which he extracted most of the guts, thus permitting a stronger spray. Everything else, the toilet, the sink, satisfied all basic requirements.

Over the next days he found himself doing things he'd never done before. He also found out he rather enjoyed it. He discovered he didn't mind at all helping her with the bed pan, even when she pooped. He kind of liked washing her shitty little ass, patting it dry, and rubbing on a little baby powder. After the first time he was careful not to use too much powder, since he got in the habit of wiping her down with either alcohol or witch hazel when her fever came back. In fact he especially liked the witch hazel treatment. She was small but not skinny.

One might say she was tiny, but a little bit cherubic. She wasn't very muscular sort of plumpish, fluffy. The fever gave her a pinkish hue, and when he rubbed her down she felt warm and delicate, soft, fragile. She had beautiful little breasts, an adorable heart shaped ass, a pretty little rounded tummy where she was keeping their baby, and a magnificent little puss.

He wished he could come up with a cool word to describe her snatch; it was soft, small, and it felt good to touch. That first night he started his own little perverse ritual by snipping and shaving away tiny parts of her pubic hair. He was slowly denuding her vagina; giving it his own homemade depilatory. He doubted if she would appreciate it very much, but he'd make something up. Mainly it was his own little treat to himself.

He liked kissing her Mons and labia when she was asleep. He'd snuggle his face in the little cavern between her two labial lips. In fact, when she was asleep, and he was wiping or rubbing her down, he spent a lot of time kissing her. He kissed her sweet lips, uppers and lowers, her neck, up and down her spine, her tummy, and of course, one of his favorite places, her breasts. He found he could get her nipples to distend even when she was asleep. It was a lot of fun. He'd never had a girl like this, one all his very own in just this fashion. He enjoyed himself even if it was a little fetishistic.

When he rubbed, wiped, and fussed over her while she was awake she tried to protest, but her complaints sounded halfhearted. He sensed very strongly she liked getting the attention as much as he liked giving it, and he certainly liked giving it. He remembered before, at the time of her first rescue in front of the Wal-Mart, how much he learned to like her personality, her quick wit, and her gentle charm. Since her second rescue out on the beach he discovered how much he enjoyed fondling and fiddling with her body.

Taking care of Laurie had revealed another side of his personality. Peter had discovered how much he wanted to care for, pamper, and dote on this very special woman. He believed he could go on just this way forever.

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Laurie spent most of her time asleep, but during those few waking moments when she was lucid she saw Peter in a new, different vein. Here was the man she loved; the man she wanted to share the rest of her life with. But was he ready to accept her on the terms she envisioned. She wanted to be a full and equal partner; a real help mate, a true contributor, a recognized and valued person.

She lay struggling to formulate what she hoped to say. The fever headaches, the medications, her pained condition made rational linear thought difficult. OK, she'd tried independence once and it hadn't worked out, but there had been reasons, for one there had been her own refusal to fully cut the cords that had bound her to a childlike dependency.

'God,' she thought, 'if only she wasn't so sick. She'd lied to Peter, and she was ready to apologize, put it right, but that didn't mean some kind of surrender. She'd be a full and equal partner in whatever relationship emerged, or she'd go it alone.'

++++++++++++

Laurie was on the road to recovery. Peter's ability, thus far, to deflect or defer their inevitable confrontation was on the wane. He and she had to grapple with past misunderstandings, come to terms with who they were and what they wanted, what they wanted for themselves and for that other little customer who hadn't been heard from yet. Hopefully, and for Peter prayerfully, they'd find that new framework for a long lasting relationship; one that would bring them, and that little unborn elf inside her happiness.

Peter knew what he wanted. There could be no more retreat, no withdrawal, and no more running away. He'd been a coward, a yellow chicken back at Thanksgiving. That was through! He wanted this woman. He wanted Laurie. He wanted their baby. He was ready to fight. He'd fight her parents, her brother, her sister, anyone; he'd get her and keep her.

He thought he knew what Laurie needed too; she needed a man who would care for her, protect her, and manage her affairs. He'd be that man.

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Carroll lolled back in his old easy chair. He had it all figured out. He'd dedicated his life to the manipulation and management of others. Laurie was a child in an adult's body. She lacked the maturity, the determination, the will to see anything through. She needed someone to guide and regulate her life. Peter was a hard worker, a comer, but he was essentially a nobody. He needed opportunity, someone with leverage who could open doors, a person who could be a benefactor, pave the way. Carroll would be that benefactor. He would shape and mold Peter; then Peter would guide, regulate, and restrain Laurie. It all made sense.

++++++++++++

Did it make sense? Could everybody get everything they wanted?