Page 115 of Duke's Daring Bookworm
I helped him to his feet and let him lean on me as we made our way to the bathroom. The oddest feeling of pride welled up in me at the fact that I could help him this way. I’d wanted to be small for as long as I could remember, but even a smaller version of me would struggle under his considerable height and weight. This was the version of me that was best suited to help him, and I loved myself for it.
He pulled me in tight when I helped him stand, and I reveled in the feel of his arms around me. “You just wanted to cop a feel,” I accused while I buried my head in his chest and hugged him back.
“You’ve discovered my evil plan.” His smile was as wide as the snow was deep.
“You’re ridiculous.” My answering smile was almost as wide as his.
Charles tried to hide it, but I knew his injuries were hurting him. As the day wore on, his smiles and banter became less and less until he fell into another fitful sleep. I paced the cabin, unsure of what more I could do to help him. Every time I came to the window, more snow had piled up.
Charles groaned just as hopelessness sank in. I walked back over to him and he looked more pale than he had before.Shit.His forehead was hot and dry.Double shit.
I peeled back the wrappings on his leg and one of his wounds was red and swollen. I missed something.
“Dammit, Charles,” I said to the quiet room. “Why did you have to step on that stupid bear trap?”
I needed to clean the wound out better. The only thing available to flush it was water. I went over a boiled a large pot of it and found the biggest container we had to catch the run-off when I flushed the wound. I dug around the cabinets until I found a baking tray and sanitized it with bleach I had found under the sink. Hopefully, bleach didn’t go bad. It would have to be good enough.
I carefully set up my supplies, laying the small scalpel included in the kit and what I would need to stitch him back up on the baking sheet, and laid it on the small coffee table.
My hands were shaking as I put the gloves on. Charles wasn’t awake to walk me through anything this time, and I hadn’t gotten it right even when I had his help. I took some deep breaths and tried to clear my head.
“Remove the old bandage, remove the stitches, reopen the wound, flush it out, re-stitch, re-bandage, try to get Charles to drink something and if he’s alert enough at some point, give him some more Tylenol to keep his fever from getting dangerously high.” I recited all this like it was a prayer, or a mediation, to keep myself focused.
Puss welled up out of the wound when I cut it open and I swallowed down some bile at the sight. I could do this. I could help him.
Working slowly, but methodically, I cleaned his wound, all the while wishing for something stronger to give him to keep him from pain, but I might as well wish for IV antibiotics since they were just as out of reach for me here.
When I had finished and cleaned up, I tried to wake Charles for some water. He groggily accepted the drink before falling back into a fitful sleep. I settled on the rug in front of the couch and tried not to dwell on the cruelty of the situation. Maybe fate didn’t want us together. Maybe we were defying the god by trying to love.
“I want you to close your eyes,” my therapist said. “Good. Now, I want you to picture your pain and anxiety. What do you see?”
I did what she asked and pulled up an image of my anxiety.
“Oh, it’s me, but like little me.” She was small and wearing a tutu and ballet slippers, and she was hiding in a closet.
“What would you say to her if you could? What does she need right now?”
I walked over to the girl in the closet and she just stared up at me. Her eyes were red and swollen and her hair disheveled. She clung to her bear, the one that smelled like grandma. I bent down and gathered her in my arms and let her cry with me.
“It isn’t your fault,” I said to myself. “I love you. Adult problems are their own.” I brushed her hair back from her face and cupped her jaw. “You didn’t cause this and you can’t fix it, but it doesn’t matter because I love you and I will always love you. You are strong and you deserve to be happy.”
The little girl crawled into my lap and squeezed me so tight that we became one.
When I opened my eyes, the pain and anxiety were gone and the only thing left was relief.
Chapter 12
Charles
Iwoke in the middle of the night. Sweat dotted my brow, and I had a fresh bandage wrapped around my leg. Jess was resting on the floor with her head against the couch, softly snoring. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and she wore the same clothing she was in yesterday.
Wind battered the window and whistled through the small gaps between the old logs. The fire had gone out in the fireplace and I could see faint traces of my breath on the air.
“Jess,” I said as I shook her. She woke with a start and immediately looked alert.
“Charles,” she said as she reached for my forehead. I must have had a fever at some point. “You’re awake. What do you need? How do you feel?”
“I’m ok, but the fire is out, and it’s getting cold in here. We should move to the bed and under the covers so we can stay warm.” I sat up and shuffled to the edge of the couch, so I stand and hobble to the bedroom.
