Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

“Never!” I bellowed.

"Okay, Tiger! What I meant to say was, are you ready to accept my offer of assistance so you can get up on your own, that is if you're sure we don't need medical help?"

"I'm sure." I hoped I was right. "What I'm not sure about is what accepting your assistance is going to cost me."

He shook his head in exasperation. “You don’t give up, do you? Just let me help you. Please.”

The ticking of Uncle Jack’s grandfather clock filled the house. It was time to admit that I needed help. It was one more thing in a long list of things that was hard for me to do. “Okay, you can help me, but only this one time.”

“That’s fair,” he said as he got up and positioned himself behind me. “Just this once.”

“What are you doing back there? I can’t see you.”

“Tell me if I hurt you.” He slipped his hands under my arms and I was up on my feet in one smooth, stable motion.

I wasn’t actually on my feet since they barely touched the floor as he carried me to the living room sofa in front of the fireplace. Ever so gently, he placed me on the cushions in the corner to give me some support.

“How did you know how to do that? You’re better than the orderlies in the hospital.”

“Hours of practice for my place with the emergency services. Now, are you okay for the moment?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised that I was.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He was on his way to the kitchen when he called out, “Where are your pain pills?”

Within fifteen minutes, I was ensconced in front of a glowing fire, snuggled down with blankets and pillows from my bed and pills in my body.

“I hope you don’t mind that I pulled a beer for myself. Jack always kept a supply in the fridge on the porch.” He popped the top with a gush.

"You're making yourself comfortable? I'm okay now, and yes, I'll admit it, thanks to you. You don't have to stay."

“Yes, I do, until those pills kick in and I know you’re okay.”

I’d learned my lesson. It would do no good to argue so I shut up and watched the fire until my eyes drooped.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“We (writers) have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.”

— Kurt Vonnegut

I thought I'd closed my eyes for only a minute, but when I opened them, sunlight streamed through the windows. I hid my face in the pillow, but even that small movement was a mistake. My muscles were reminding me of the fall I'd taken the night before and making me pay for my arrogant decision to use the cane. I needed a pain pill and I needed it now. I had to get to the kitchen. When I tried to sit up, waves of excruciating pain roared up and down my leg. The rest of my body shivered. I collapsed on the sofa again. Slowly, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee penetrated my pain-addled brain. I heard footsteps. I couldn't protect myself from a flea. Trying to be brave, I pried open one eyelid.

“She’s alive.” TJ walked in carrying two steaming mugs. “I thought the smell of coffee might wake you up.”  He put a mug down on the coffee table for me.

I wanted to reach for it, but there was no way.  “I feel awful.” I sounded pathetic.

“I’m sure you do.”

I wanted to cry. Being in the hospital certainly had the advantage of a nurse with medicine just a button away. Humiliation only added to the pain. I didn't want a lecture about my screwball attempt to rush my recovery. I had no choice. I needed the pills. He must have read my mind. He left the room and when he came back, he put the painkiller bottle on the table.

“Can you take them with coffee or do you want a glass of water?” he asked.

“Water would be great.”

Had he come by to check on me this morning or stayed all night? He delivered a glass of water and helped me move into a sitting position.

I plastered a fake grin with clenched teeth on my face. “Thank you.”

"I brought you some toast. It’s not a good idea to take pills on an empty stomach."

I smiled at him with real gratitude. "That's a good idea. I think I need to take two pills this morning.”

He took a step toward me. “I thought you were down to one…” His voice trailed off. “Okay, you know what’s best.”

He shook two pills out of the bottle and I downed them with the entire glass of water. He stoked the fire and we watched the flames in comfortable silence while I nibbled the toast and sipped coffee.

Finally, when the stabbing pain subsided to an impressive ache, I felt I could breathe and talk normally again. I knew it was time to say something.

I took a deep breath and began.  “About last night, TJ. I was—”

He cut me off.  “Emma, you don’t have to say a thing.  Any normal person meeting new people would want to look her best, not leaning on old crutches. I get it.”

I sat up a little straighter. “Yes, but I—”

He overrode me again. “How you handle your rehabilitation is up to you. I’m not the one you have to convince. It’s okay.  Are you starting to feel any better now?” He asked with a strong dose of compassion.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said. “You don’t think you did any real damage, do you?”

I glanced away. “I really won’t know until I get up. The pain is down