Bittersweet (14 page)

There
had been a fairly simple explanation after all.

He
appeared to be in a lot of pain, however, so she managed to restrain her relieved
reaction.

“I’m
sorry. That must be miserable. What made it go out?”

“I
did something in my workout yesterday, I think.” Adam’s voice was still
stretched, maybe from pain but probably from his intense frustration at being
forced into such a helpless position. “There’s nothing they can do. I have
medication, but otherwise I need to just wait it out.”

Zoe
frowned. “Well, you could have told me. I was worried about you.”

Adam
frowned back at her. “I told you I was fine. There was nothing to worry about.”

She
would have responded, but Logan wriggled out of her grip. He ran clumsily over
to the couch and jabbered out an enthusiastic series of sounds.

“Hi,
Logan,” Adam said, his expression changing as he looked at the boy. “If you
want something to play with, there’s a puzzle box on the table over there that
might be fun.”

Logan
evidently understood enough of Adam’s words and gestures to run over to the
table. Zoe followed him and found an antique puzzle box made of zebra wood.
When she experimented with the latch, the whole thing fell apart into large
pieces of various shapes. She realized the puzzle was in trying to put them
back together into a box.

Logan
would have no idea how to put them together, but he would have fun playing with
them anyway.

“Are
you sure?” she asked, glancing back at Adam. “It looks like an antique.”

“He
can’t hurt it.”

So
Zoe put the pieces on the floor for an excited Logan, who immediately started
stacking them on top of each other.

With
her son thus amused, Zoe pulled a chair over toward the sofa, ignoring Adam’s
annoyed look. “So your back is pretty bad?”

“It’s
ridiculous. I can’t even move without help.”

Zoe
could well imagine how incredibly frustrating someone as self-sufficient as Adam
would find it. “When did the doctor say it would get better?”

“He
didn’t know. Back problems are evidently very unpredictable. And often
untreatable.” Adam wasn’t looking at her directly but rather over her shoulder
toward where Logan was playing. “I got a second opinion, and he told me the
same thing. Rest and let it recover.”

 He
spoke the words as if he wanted to strangle something…or someone.

“I’m
sorry,” Zoe said, reaching over to pat his shoulder. She was a little hurt when
he flinched away, but she didn’t let herself take it personally. Adam in this
helpless state was not his normal self. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.
You might as well go home. I can’t do anything but lie here.”

Zoe
studied his pale, damp face. He looked terrible, and her heart went out to him.
“Surely there’s something that can make you more comfortable. What about heat
or an ice pack or something?”

Adam
gave a half-shrug, but even that minor gesture seemed to pain him.

“Have
you tried it?” she demanded, getting a sneaking suspicion that Adam was so
unused to being ill and so resistant to the reality of being powerless that he
wouldn’t let himself indulge in even little things that might take the edge
off.

Adam
just rolled his eyes.

Zoe
stood up. “Do you want to try heat or ice first?” she asked briskly, knowing if
she acted too sympathetic he would revolt.

After
a pause during which he appeared to be restraining a number of snide responses,
he finally said, “Heat, I guess.”

“Be
good with Uncle Adam, Logan,” Zoe said, walking toward the door of the room.
“Mommy will be right back.”

Logan
babbled a response, busily laying out puzzle pieces in a long, lopsided row.

Zoe
wandered down the hall and was relieved when Carson appeared again. “Can I get
a heat pad or something for his back?” she asked.

 “Of
course. Come with me, Mrs. Peterson.”

Zoe
followed him into the kitchen. “Do you know what happened to hurt his back?”
she asked, as Carson put a large heating pack in the stainless steel microwave.

“He
did something to it during a workout, I believe.”

“But
how did it get so bad so quickly? Did he pull something?”

“I’m
not certain, ma’am. I believe he had an extensive workout very early on Sunday
morning. Perhaps he injured it then. After he worked out again on Sunday
afternoon, he was in such pain he couldn’t do anything but lie in bed. He's
been that way ever since.”

Zoe
thought about it.  If Adam had been working out early yesterday morning, he
must not have even gone to bed after he’d left her place.

She
couldn’t imagine what had prompted him to be so foolish as to work out for
hours after babysitting and staying up all night with her.

“Is
he taking medication?”

“Yes,
ma’am. The doctor prescribed a strong narcotic pain reliever, since this sort
of pain is so severe. But it doesn’t seem to help for very long.”

“He
looked terrible when I came in. I hate that he’s in such pain all the time.”

Carson
opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again.

“What
is it?” she prompted.

“He
is in a lot of pain, but he was doing better before you arrived. He was lying
on his bed. But, when he heard you were coming up, he insisted that I help him
into the office. The move was very painful on him, which is why he looks as bad
as he does now.”

When
the words processed, she snarled. “That damned idiot! Why would I care if he was
in bed?”

Carson
removed the heating pad from the microwave and handed it to Zoe. She could have
sworn that he was struggling not to smile. “Mr. Peterson’s pride occasionally
spurs him to unwarranted actions. He’s much like his grandfather in that.”

She
muttered under her breath, “Unwarranted. That’s for sure. Stupid, proud…” Then,
with a smile for the man in front of her, she added, “Thanks for this. Do you
have an ice pack too? I’m not sure which will help him more, but we might try
alternating at first.”

“Yes,
ma’am. Just let me know what you need.”

“Thank
you.”

Zoe
returned to the office to find Logan happily talking—either to himself or to Adam—as
he played with the puzzle. Adam was still lying on the couch. He didn’t look
quite so pale as he’d looked when she first arrived, which was a relief to Zoe.

“Can
you turn over onto your side?” she asked, taking the heating pad over to him.

“I’d
rather not.”

She
felt a pang of sympathy if he was in so much pain that turning over would hurt
so much. “All right. We’ll try to get this under you. Is it your lower back?”

Upon
getting an affirmation from him, she leaned over and—after he was able to lift
his torso with great effort about an inch off the couch—she edge the heating
pad in place beneath him.

She
watched him as he closed his eyes and breathed heavily, something strong and
tender rising up in her chest. No matter how much his stubborn pride made her
want to hit him, she still wanted to stroke him. Make him feel better.

Josh
had always been a terrible patient when he was ill—grumpy and rather pitiful—but
he’d never been so outrageously proud and so unwilling to show weakness of any
kind.

She
was afraid her expression might have reflected her feelings when Adam opened
one eye and glared at her suspiciously.

“You
are ridiculous,” she said tartly, so he wouldn’t think she’d been pitying him.

Adam’s
eyes widened in indignation.

“If
you’d called me earlier, I could have helped you before.”

“There
was nothing you could do.”

“I
could make it less depressing in this room.” She got up and went to open the
blinds, letting sunshine stream in. Then she went to the stereo and turned it
on. It was set to classical music, and she decided that was soothing and
pleasant. “I guess you can’t read anything, since you can’t prop up. Do you
want me to read the newspaper to you?”

Adam
began to object but then, for some reason, changed his mind. With a resigned
sigh, he said, “Why not?”

Pleased
with this acquiescence, she read for a long time to Adam, who gradually began
to look more relaxed and comfortable. Logan eventually got bored with the
puzzle box and came over to sit on Zoe’s lap and pretend to read with her.

Soon,
he fell asleep.

“It’s
his nap time,” Zoe murmured, putting down the newspaper and cradling her
sleeping son. “I’ll find somewhere for him to sleep.”

She
carried Logan out of the room and found a guest room with two twin beds. She
didn’t want to leave him on one of the beds, since he might roll off, but she
pulled a mattress onto the floor. After she’d settled him, she went back into
the office to find the couch empty.

Startled
and concerned, she wandered around the apartment looking for where Adam had
disappeared to. She was about to call out when she ended up in what was clearly
the master bedroom.

Adam
was limping out of the bathroom, heavily supported by Carson.

“What
are you doing here?” Adam gritted out, evidently in a lot of pain.

“You
disappeared and I couldn’t find you. Why don’t you get back in bed? It has to
be more comfortable than the couch.”

Carson
nodded and started back toward the bed, ignoring the beginnings of an objection
from Adam.

Adam
couldn’t argue much because walking was evidently so difficult for him.

It
was very disturbing—seeing him in so much pain and in so much need of help. She
was used to always seeing him in complete control of himself and the rest of
his world.

Zoe
remained silent until he’d gotten in bed. It had taken a long time and even
watching it was painful for Zoe.

Adam
was sweating, breathing heavily, and bone white when he was finally in place on
top of the covers.

So
concerned she felt like whimpering, Zoe asked hoarsely, “Is it time for more
medication yet?”

Carson
glanced at his watch. “Close enough.”

“You
can leave whenever you want, Zoe,” Adam muttered while the other man got out
pills from prescription bottles for him.

Zoe
ignored this, since she knew the words were prompted only by his resistance
toward anyone seeing him in this condition. “Isn’t there anything else we can
do?” she asked Carson.

“The
doctor left this muscle rub and said it might help a little, but Mr. Peterson
hasn’t used it yet.”

Zoe
grabbed the tube of muscle rub. “Can you help him off with his shirt?” she
asked Carson. Then she turned to Adam. “After you take your pills, let’s try
this.”

Adam
mumbled an obvious objection. He was still in too much pain to communicate with
his typical authority and quick wit.

“Don’t
be stubborn.”

Since
both Zoe and Carson obviously wanted this to happen, Adam’s arguments were
futile. Zoe watched, feeling kind of odd, as Carson helped Adam off with his
t-shirt.

Adam’s
chest was strong, toned, and masculine, but she felt a little self-conscious
about looking at him very pointedly, so she glanced away and tried to give him
his privacy as Carson helped him turn over onto his back.

“Thank
you,” Zoe said to Carson, as the man started to leave the room.

“You’re
welcome, Mrs. Peterson. Just let me know if you need anything else.”

The
room was silent after Carson left. Zoe took the muscle rub and walked over to
the side of the bed.

Adam’s
head was facing away from her.

“Are
you mad?” she asked.

“No,
but I wish you hadn’t gone to all this trouble.”

“It's
no trouble. You’re just not used to accepting help. But you’ve helped me all
these months. Why can’t I help you a little bit too?”

Adam
didn’t answer, and she took that as his consent. So she squeezed out some of
the minty-smelling muscle rub onto her hand. It was prescription ointment, but
smelled a lot like the stuff you bought in the drug store.

“It’s
going to be cold,” she warned, rubbing it between her hands and then smoothing
it onto the skin of Adam’s back.

His
flesh was smooth and firm under her palms. She rubbed the ointment into his
skin, trying to massage his muscles as she did so.

After
a minute, she heard Adam release a textured sigh that did something odd to her
stomach.

“Is
this all right?” she asked, trying to sound natural although she felt very
unnatural massaging a shirtless Adam in his bedroom.

But
he was in pain, and she wanted to help.

“Yes,”
he said hoarsely, “Thank you.”