Miracle Cream Ch. 02d

"Hey, Cory, how you doing?"

"Oh, you know, pain, itchy, the usual," Cory replied.

"But no setbacks, right?"

"None so far."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that; maybe that stomach of yours will cooperate now," Jairo joked, causing his son to snort.

"That's like asking for the moon," Cory retorted.

"Hey, I can lasso that thing and pull it down. If I wanted to."

"Well, aren't you just special," Cory taunted.

"I am; how do you think I landed your mother? The people begged me to put the moon back into place, so the tides could rise again."

"You haven't lost Wilson yet, have you?" Cory countered, hearing his father's chuckle over the line. Then he heard the knock on a door.

"Hey, Greg, it's Jairo; I was wondering if you had a minute to talk, it's about the car?" Their wait didn't last long before the sound of the door opened over the line.

"What's up?"

"Go on, Cory, ask."

"Hi," Cory greeted.

"Hello, young man, what can I do you for?"

"Was wondering how we were going to get these dents out before it heads to paint?"

"Oh, you leave the dents to me; I have the tools and the expertise to make sure the metal is just like it rolled off the factory floor. Not saying you all can't do it. Yet, some of those dents are pretty deep, so it will take some controlled force to properly get the sheet metal back into place."

"Ah. Okay, that solves that problem; also, I was wondering if you could tell me how to put a louver on the back window," Cory inquired politely, hearing the man whistle over the line.

"You're really going all in, huh?"

"Yeah, I love this car, have Dad show you the paint I'm having mixed up," Cory said, with excitement in his voice.

"So you've already seen my guy?"

"Yep, saw him around two this afternoon; said the paint should be ready by Friday. Got to thank you, that man made exactly what I wanted," Cory spoke with a wide smile on his face.

"Yes, I can see, that does look good on it. Nice touch with the metal flakes; it's really going to make that car pop when it's all done."

"Thank you."

"Well, I wouldn't suggest you go getting the one that sticks to the window with tape. But the other one is extremely difficult given that the liner is still in. It'll take precision to install it. Have you got the new carpet yet?"

"Yeah, should be here next week."

"What about the seats?"

"Already out and waiting for pickup," Cory answered.

"Moving right along, aren't you?"

"Mmmhmm," Cory hummed.

"Well, given that drilling holes in the roof shouldn't be done by an amateur, no offense."

"None, taken," Cory replied. He and everyone was an amateur when it came to working on the Mustang.

"If you get it, I'll install it for you when you bring it over to get painted. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great! Thank you, so much!" Cory said, unable to hide his giddiness.

"Oh, I was meaning to tell your father this tomorrow, but since you're on the line and all. The man who had the shaker hood for the car sold it, but he put me in contact with another supplier that has one for that model of car. He'll be at the car show this weekend in Hillsborough. Look for the booth called Pete's Classic and Vintage Parts. Have you looked into having that steering wheel restored?"

"Yeah, but everyone I talked to after I sent pictures of it to them told me it would just be cheaper to buy an aftermarket one or an already restored one given the work that it would take to restore that one," Cory sighed, not sure what he was going to do about all those cracks and missing pieces of the plastic on it.

"Yeah, I thought as much. Don't you go buying anything from anyone. If my guy says Pete's your man, you can trust him not to rip you off. He might not have a steering wheel for that model of car, but I'm quite certain he has other salvaged, perfectly good, and restored steering wheels of Mustangs. If he has a shaker hood, then he's bound to have a steering wheel. They're interchangeable, so you'll just have to ask if he has a 69 wheel from a normal mustang. They were slightly bigger than the earlier models, so it wouldn't look right if you got one before then. It shouldn't cost too much."

"Do you know the name of this car show?" Cory asked, watching Dayana typing into google as they listened. "I'll make sure to be there the moment it opens Saturday," he said, when Dayana showed him the time it would open.

"That's what I like to hear?! Now was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

"Are the hood clips in with the other parts you brought along?"

"They are."

"Then that's all I got at the moment," Cory stated, so eager for Saturday to come. He wanted to see what other people had done to their interiors and maybe get some ideas for his down the road when he had the extra money to do such a thing. However, for now, his account was pretty tapped getting the car road-ready, so he didn't have any extra to do all the interior, like new door panels, new handles given the pits in the chrome. He was just going to have to rely on products to bring the old vinyl back to its original shine. He knew it would take a lot of elbow grease, yet as his eyes fell on that classic car, he knew it was so going to be worth it.

"Then I bid you and your father a good night."

"Thank you, and sorry if we disturbed you," Cory quickly said before the man returned to his room.

"You're quite welcome. See you in the morning, Jairo."

"Night, Greg." With that, the sound of Greg's room door echoed over the line. "I think you made his day."

"Huh?" Cory asked, confused.

"I haven't seen him smile like that in a year."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think you reminded him of the good times he had with his son."

"Ah." Cory really didn't know what to say to that.

"Okay, I've had a long day. I'm going to call your mother, then hit the hay. You two behave yourselves. Cory, you call me tomorrow when you get done at your doctor's appointment."

"Alright, Dr. Whitmore will probably put me back in a cast tomorrow," Cory said, looking down at his hand. Noting how the incision had healed rather nicely since last week.

"If she does, I want to know, alright?"

"Mmmkay," Cory hummed.

"Good night, you two; I love you both."

"I love you too, Dad," Dayana responded, noting how the words didn't come out of Cory's mouth when the line went dead. "Cory, why didn't you say it back?"

"You all have far more to go before I even utter those words," Cory said, in a monotone voice.

"But... you'll say it eventually, right?"

"If or when you all redeem yourselves, I might."

"Then I'm going to work extra hard," seeing Cory turning his gaze towards her when her left hand took hold of his right arm, "I will earn it; you can count on it. Now, come on, let's go get you ready for bed. I know your medication must be wearing off by now," Dayana said, helping Cory off that hard, cold concrete floor.

******

The next day...

"Cory, you can come on back," Dr. Whitmore said, as she stood holding open the door that separated the waiting room from her examining rooms. "How are you feeling today? Any complications from last week?" she asked, leading him to exam room three.

"No, not that I have noticed," Cory said truthfully, with Cassy tagging along.

"How's the pain this morning?" Dr. Whitmore asked, gesturing for Cory to take his place on the examining table.

"Back to an eight, feels like I'm on a seesaw," Cory stated plainly.

"I bet it feels like that," Dr. Whitmore nodded. "I'm going to take your splint cast off so I can check your hand and see if it's healed enough to go back into a fixed cast," she spoke, bringing the stabilizing table around so his fingers wouldn't become misaligned without the support of the splint cast keeping them in place. Flashing Cassy a smile when she held out her hand once she slid the temporary cast off Cory's hand. "Yes, yes, it's healing quite nicely," Dr. Whitmore mused, as she examined the one-inch incision on the top of his hand. "I think we can remove these stitches and get you back into a cast today. We'll just apply some liquid skin to the wound so the fiberglass doesn't irritate the incision while you're back in the cast. But first, I want to check on your reflex in your finger just to be sure complete feeling has returned to it, alright?" Seeing Cory nodding in understanding. "I promise, this won't hurt too much," she said, before lightly jabbing the head of a pin into the tip of his finger, watching it flex responding to the unknown stimuli. "Good, good, can you feel my finger?" Dr. Whitmore asked, as she ran the pad of her finger down the length of it. Smiling when Cory vehemently nodded that he could. "It appears the surgery was successful in restoring feeling to it. That's excellent news, now if something happens that you suddenly stop feeling it again or it diminishes in any way, you inform me at once."

"Yes, Doc," Cory spoke with certainty.

"Once your cast is dry, we'll see if your staples are ready to be removed."

"I'm so ready for those things to come out!" Cory said, with conviction.

"I'll be just a few minutes," Dr. Whitmore said, before leaving the room.

"Pixie?"

"Yes, Cory?"

"Do you think they're ready to come out?"

"I... don't think they are. Given the size, the direction, and how deep the laceration was. No. I don't think ten days is enough time," Cassy spoke truthfully.

"You saying that to be truthful with me or so you can mack on my sister some more?" Cory asked, in a teasing light. Watching those cheeks of hers heating. "Because I think you spend more time at my place than your own."

"I... I..."

"Speechless?! So unlike you, have the gnomes stolen away with your tongue?"

"Shut up?!" Cassy huffed.

"Aw, should I barter with them for its return?" Cory asked, with a widening smile.

"Do you always have to be like this?" Cassy grumbled, not fond of being on the other end of his taunts.

"I torture all my friends."

"Oh?!" Cassy uttered, raising her left eyebrow. "So we're friends now? I thought we were just acquaintances who've had sex and nothing more," she said, throwing his words back at him. Watching him shake his right hand to say 'so-so.'

"Depends on the day."

"Really?" Cassy inquired, crossing her arms.

"Sometimes you're just annoying as fuck, other times you're okay," Cory said, shrugging his shoulders.

"And how is today turning out?"

"Leaning towards the second one," Cory admitted. Looking towards the door as his doctor and her nurse walked back into the room carrying what they needed to make the cast.

"You might feel some discomfort and some blood, but that's normal. If the wound opens up, we'll forgo the cast for another four days until it's healed enough to stay closed on its own. However, I'm not expecting difficulties with this size of an incision," Dr. Whitmore stated, trying not to eye his chest. That was what had her worried the most, the laceration on his chest. While the normal allotted time has passed for his staples to be removed, the size of it had her concerned. She had no idea how deep it was, so she couldn't speculate on how much healing his body has done to the wound.

"Okay," Cory nodded. It felt so weird feeling the thread moving through his skin as she pulled it out after cutting the sutures open. While there was some blood it was very minor given all the blood he had lost last week and the week before that.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Dr. Whitmore asked, in a light tone, with a smile on her lips. Seeing him shake his head as she layered on the liquid skin over the incision. "There that will help to keep your wound closed until it's fully healed," handing the bottle to her nurse, "while that dries, we'll start prepping for the cast."

"How long will it have to stay on for this time?"

"For the rest of the month. It should come off by the time you're ready to head back to school," Dr. Whitmore said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Cory watched as his doctor wrapped his hand in the first layer while the nurse made sure to keep his fingers in line with his knuckles while Dr. Whitmore wrapped them to keep them immobilized during the duration. Then moving back down his fingers until the cotton roll was gone, applying another layer and a half to equal three layers before applying the outer layer to it. "Gloria, please hand me the first roll of fiberglass," Dr. Whitmore said, holding out her hand. "I hope you don't mind if it's red," she uttered with a smile as she repeated the process as she did with the cotton layer after her nurse had squeezed out the excess water from the fiberglass. She liked using very hot water given that it would speed up the curing time compared to lukewarm water.

"Nope, although I think I've seen enough red in the shade of blood for a while," Cory joked.

"Yes, I can imagine," Dr. Whitmore nodded in understanding. "Now that should set in five minutes, so you aren't hanging around here for the next hour and a half for the cast to dry, Thank you, Gloria, you can remove that," Dr. Whitmore nodded towards the tray as she removed her gloves and tossed them into the waste bin while she waited for his cast to harden. Taking her seat at the desk against the wall and opening up his medical file. "Cory, did they tell you how deep your laceration was?"

"Nope, I was kind of out of it after the stabbing, or so I'm told," Cory replied.

"Ah. You were probably in shock," Dr. Whitmore stated, which was true. "A traumatic event such as that can have that effect on your mind. So," turning towards him, trying not to notice she saw his dangly bits when she did, "I'm going, to be frank with you. While yes, normally, staples on a patient's chest come out in seven to ten days. I'm not sure yours can be removed yet; we'll do a little test. If your wound reopens, I'll have to stitch you up, since I do not carry surgical staples here. I just don't want to get your hopes up."

"I understand," Cory said, slyly glancing at Cassy, knowing she said the same thing.

"Now, if you help your patient to remove his shirt, we'll see if those staples can be removed," Dr. Whitmore stated after checking to see if the cast has hardened enough after the five-minute interval.

"Yes, doctor," Cassy replied instantly.

"Look at you, hopping to like a good..." Chuckling from the depths of his shirt when she playfully slapped his side when he teased her.

"Now lay back, and I'll begin at your shoulder and work my way down," Dr. Whitmore directed, knowing that would be the least likely place to cause massive bleeding if the wound hadn't sealed enough to stay closed under its own volition. Cursing in her mind when his wound did what she feared it would do as she removed the fifth staple. "Third door on your left from the wall there's gauze in there fetch it quickly!" Dr. Whitmore ordered as she held the wound closed. "I'm sorry, Cory, it seems you're not ready to have them removed yet."

"How long?" Cory asked, ignoring how his blood-stained her latex gloves.

"I'm going to wait the max time for this. So it will be another eleven days before they have to come out. If your wound isn't staying closed by then... we'll have to rely on stitches," Dr. Whitmore said, already imagining the hand cramp that would come from suturing up that large of a wound.

"Here you are, doctor," Cassy said, handing her the sanitized gauze.

"Gloves are on the desk, grab a pair, and keep pressure on the wound while I fetch the suture kit," Dr. Whitmore stated, she wouldn't have involved Cassy if she didn't have some medical training, and at that moment, she could use an extra set of hands. "I won't be long," she said, tossing her gloves into the red bio-hazard box before darting out the room. "Gloria, I need you in exam room three, stat!" Cory could hear his doctor's voice from somewhere within her building. Cassy quickly moved out of the way when Gloria rushed into the room and after she had donned the appropriate protective gear.

"Well, I'm surprised you didn't faint," Cory teased as Cassy stuffed her soiled gloves into that same red box.

"I was there that night, Cory. That was nothing compared to that night," Cassy said, remembering how covered his chest was.

"Oh?" Seeing her nod in response to his question, "I better have went down fighting," Cory stated, knowing he did; he just couldn't remember anything after the stabbing.

"I can't say on that part. I got there when the police were already there," Cassy said, moving to stand on his left side to keep his focus on her.

"Then you missed all the fun."

"How can you joke about that?"

"How can I not? Look at me, Cassy, look at how my life has played out. If I don't poke fun at it, I'll go fucking mad. I'm not kidding," Cory said, in all seriousness.

"It couldn't have been all that bad, could it?" Cassy asked, truly interested in finding out the answer. Listening to Cory hiss as Gloria cleaned the wound before Dr. Whitmore injected the site with a local anesthetic.

"I know your girlfriend far better than you do," Cory said, darkly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Get her mad, and you'll see a glimpse of what she's truly like. Words are just pretty little things that flow off one's lips. Actions, actions tell you about a person's true character, and I've had a front-row seat to hers for five years," Cory hissed as the needle pinched his skin.

"Sorry, Cory," Dr. Whitmore spoke.

"It's alright Doc, I've had worse."

"Are you trying to get me to break up with Zoe?" Cassy asked, digging deeper into his reasoning as to why he would tell her this.

"No. Whether you date or not, it's not really my concern. Just giving you fair warning of what lies beneath," Cory stated ominously.

"What if I never see it? What then?"

"Then be grateful that you haven't seen how venomous she can be when provoked," Cory said, feeling the last tug of the thread before his doctor snipped it off.

"Well, Cory, you're all cleaned up; you can put your shirt back on," Dr. Whitmore said, lightly patting his shoulder. "How does Saturday at eleven sound for your next appointment?" she asked, as she looked through her appointment list eleven days in advance.

"Shucks, and I was planning on larping that day," Cory joked, causing the good doctor to chuckle lightly as she shook her head once Cassy had eased his shirt down.

"I'll take that as a 'yes, you'll be here'," Dr. Whitmore stated as she wrote him into her appointment book.

"Definitely."

"Well, Cory, apart from the fiasco with your staples, you seem to be healing rather well. Your day nurse is taking very good care of you."

"Don't tell her that; her head is already as big as a house! However am I to fit it into the car?! Don't let her fool you, she likes the whip more than the carrot... ow!" Cory jumped when Cassy slapped in on his back. "See! Patient abuse!"

"You'll be just fine," Dr. Whitmore mused with a smile on her lips. While she tried, really tried not to notice it, yet couldn't help but stare at his root from her peripheral vision.

"You're in the cabal too?!" Cory gasped. "It's a conspiracy!"

"You never cease to amaze me with what comes out of that mouth," Dr. Whitmore mused as she turned to face him.

"It's a gift," Cory said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So he's always been like this?" Cassy asked, looking at his doctor.

"Ever since he's became my patient," Dr. Whitmore nodded. "Come, I'll see you two out. Now if anything happens I'm just a call away, you two have a pleasant rest of the day," she said, before gesturing to her next patient to enter.

"Well, at least I know the weird shit that comes out of that mouth isn't a new thing; I was starting to wonder if you hit your head on something that night and no one caught it," Cassy said, as they walked to her car.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" Cassy stopped in her tracks, remembering what happened the last time they were there.