Strung (9 page)

"This one; I think it's called 'The Heart As
ks Pleasure First'," he murmurs.

"I like this one too, but I can never figure out if it's happy or sad."

"It is a powerful score.  I would say it's both."

I am
soon caught up in the spell binding story.  At some point during the film, Chayton has fallen asleep and slipped down, his head on my lap.  It feels so natural and it is only when he starts snoring lightly do I realise that I'm stroking his hair.  Not wanting to disturb him, I leave him there and carry on watching the film.

~.~

26th March

I jolt awake.  It takes a few moments for me to digest my surroundings.  The sun is making an appearance through a thin slit in the heavy burgundy drapes.  My head is buried deep in a soft pillow and a warm comfortable weight is pressing down on my belly.  I rub my eyes and the weight on my midriff shifts. 

Shit, I must have drifted off.  How and when did I end up under the covers?  Last thing I remember I was sitting on top of the covers.  I sit up slowly, shifting Chayton's head from my belly, onto his pillow and stand tenderly.

My ankle is healing well.  The swelling is on its way down, or though it still has a long way to go, I note sadly.  I can almost put my weight on my toes.  I just can't put my foot flat on the floor.  I would have thought the opposite to be true, but
clearly my medical knowledge has holes.

Other than that, I feel remarkably rested.  I check Chayton over quickly.  He is still very warm but sleeping peacefully so I head for the bathroom down the hall and have
a quick shower, scrub my teeth and pull on fresh sweats and a camisole and find a really thick pair of socks. 

I head to the kitchen and set about making a soft breakfast
.  I decide on oats with dried fruit and a tall cranberry with a little salt for Chayton and oats with coffee for me.  I quickly scoff mine down, then balancing his tray on one upturned palm and hobble down the hall to his room. 

He is stirring when I enter and I put the tray on his bedside table.

Chapter 5

"Good morning."  He sits up and rubs his eyes while I open the curtains to let the sun stream in.

"Breakfast?" he asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, breakfast.  Eat up!  How are you feeling?"  I look him over from a safe distance.

"Like I've been hit by a truck.  You don't need to do this you know, but I'm glad you're here," he ends softly and I offer a small smile, not sure what to say to that.  He squirms on the bed trying to get comfortable and winces.

"Chayton?" 

"It's nothing, I'm just uncomfortable."  He pulls the tray onto his lap and eats his oats slowly, occasionally sipping his cranberry juice
.  "The cranberry is nice, but is it me or is it a little salty?"

"It is salty; you've been sweating a lot.  You need to replace some of the electrolytes or you'll get dehydrated."

"Oh, thanks doc.  The oats are good too by the way."

I sit on the armchair watching him eat.  Even sick, he is beautiful.  The muscles in his shoulders and arms flex and ripple every time he brings the spoon or glass to his mouth
.  He puts the tray back on the table and I get up to take it back to the kitchen.  When I return, the bed is empty.

"Shit, fuck!" he calls from the bathroom for a second time in twelve hours, but this time, without the alarming bang.
  I tap on the open bathroom door, before peering in. 

"Oh!"  I duck my head back out again.  "I'm sorry.  I thought...
  I um..." 
Oh crap, could this be any more embarrassing?
  "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay!" he sounds positively mad.

"What is it?"

"My bloody balls are killing me and well - they don't look or feel right!  I need to get to a hospital!"

I expel a huge relieved breath.  "Is that all?" 
Well that would explain why I caught him with a handful.

"What do you mean
is
that all?
"
he protests, approaching the door.  "Look at them!"

I am
about to tell him that that is not necessary but he appears in the open door way stark naked, a mix of anger and fear morphing comically across his face with his testicles cradled protectively in his hands.  I quickly turn my back, failing to suppress a grin.

"It's not funny!  This is serious woman."

"Chayton, calm down and stop being a baby!  You have the Mumps.  Swollen, um...testes...is a common - and I've heard uncomfortable, but usually harmless - complication.”  I affirm.

For a long
while, he stands quietly behind me and I can hear his breathing.  Finally he speaks, calmer and quieter this time.  "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure.  A compress might make it more comfortable.  Maybe you'll feel better talking to the doctor on the phone?"

"No.  It's okay.  It's just a shock that's all," he grumbles and I note with satisfaction that the tables have turned on the humiliation stakes.

I hear him moving about the bathroom and I start to relax a little, waiting for him to come out.

"So you've seen a few of these cases then?" he calls.

"I told you yesterday.  I used to
help at the bush clinic.  Yes I've seen a few cases of mumps."

"Including swollen balls?"  I catch a playful tone in his voice.

"No, I haven't actually laid eyes on swollen balls but yes, quite a few patients used to walk funny for a few days."  I grin.

"So what were you saying about a compress?" he asks, waddling out the bathroom, his snug pair of Kelvin's not leaving much to the imagination.  He really does have a nice ass.

"I'll go and get you a bag of ice and some more water.  I think you can handle another dose of pain relief."  I try my best to control the grin that is tugging at the corners of my mouth again as I watch him try to get comfortable in the bed.  I can see the sweat starting to sheen on his forehead and my amusement fades.  I know he is in for a second round of fever as his body fights the spread of the infection.  As long as it does not get to his lungs or heart, he will be just fine.

I return a few minutes later.  He quickly swigs back two painkillers and I hand him the bag of ice.  He holds it uncertainly, as if trying to decide exactly what to do with it, causing me to grin again.

"Are you laughing at me," he grumbles.

"You are easy to laugh at.  Just put the bag over the swelling however feels the most comfortable; and um, not inside your shorts unless you want to add frost bite to your list of complaints."

He scowls at me and the bag disappears under the sheets.  "How the hell do little kids cope with this shit?"

"Well actually, they don't seem to get it as bad as adults."  I straighten his blankets.

"Oh.  Lucky buggers!  Will Bo and Luke suffer any long lasting effects?"

He slides down until he is prostrate on the bed, both hands on his crotch.  I study the utterly sincere expression on his face as he settles his head on his pillow.

"Bo and Luke?  You've named your nuts?"  He winces, then grins at me proudly.

"My child hood heroes, Dukes of hazard.  Inseparable, mean drivers and girls find them cute as hell.  They also share my appreciation for a good pair of Daisy Dukes."

"Is that all you've named?"  I smirk.

"Well there is also General Lee.  Bo and Luke need something to drive
and the girls need something to drape themselves over." 

"Great - always wanted to meet a penis called General Lee." 
Shit that didn't come out right
.  "You do know that Daisy was their cousin, right?”  I follow up quickly.

"Incest is a game the whole family can play!  Besides, I was referring to the shorts."

"Says you," I smile tucking him in snugly.  He is showing me a completely new and unexpected side.  A side I like very much.  "Sleep while you can, it's probably going to be a long day if your fever starts up again."

"Why aren't you using both your crutches?"

"It's hard to carry trays of food and bundles of laundry around, with both hands operating crutches.  Besides, as long as I take it slow and don't put my foot flat, I can manage all right.  It's healing nicely."

"I'm sorry."  A shutter has closed over his face and he frowns.  "And thank you."

"For what?"

"Sorry for putting you in this position and thank you, for looking after me."

"Hey I'd be bored stiff otherwise.  Anyway, you did save my life.”  I shrug.  "You'll be on the mend in forty eight hours tops, the pass will be open and my ankle should be good enough for me to drive.  Then we can both get back to our lives."

"Will you move the shelter here?" he asks squirming to find a comfortable spot under the blanket.
  Savannah must have told him.  I focus on a torn nail as I speak. 

"I don't think I'll move it as such.  We still need a place in the city for short term and emergencies but yes
, I think it will be a great place for our more long-term tenants - especially those with kids.  I should know more later today."

When I look back down at him, he is fast asleep.  I leave him to rest.

~.~

I have pulled the
armchair closer to the bed and I am sitting in it with my bare feet up on the bed, contract and pen in hand.  I am reading the terms of the offer.  Every now and then, I jot down a note or a question only to find my question answered or my concern alleviated in another clause later on in the document.  By the end, all my notes in the margins have been crossed off.  Overall, the contract appears sound.  We would be insane to turn the offer down.  That alone bothers me.

Chayton is quiet for the moment.  I need to set up the conference call with Victoria and Grant.  I head back to my room down the hall and dial Grant. 

"Grant, hi."

"Oh, hi Acacia.  Just hang on; I have Victoria on the other line.
”  I hear a series of beeps and then both Victoria and Grant on the line.

"Hello Acacia.  I trust you are enjoying your holiday in the mountains?
”  Victoria teases.

"Hardly!  I'm going to need intense therapy when I get back, so be prepared!
”  I grumble.  "Let's get to work."  I don't want to go into details with Grant on the line.

As it turns out, Victoria has managed to talk to a few contacts who are directly involved with other charities under the Liberal what's-it umbrella.  I still can't say it comfortably.  Everything is checking out and by the end of the conversation we've all agreed to accept Liberal
-what's-it's offer.  Grant will go ahead and contact the Goblin from Gringott's.  I describe the facilities at Donavan's pass, but express the obvious concerns, like the lack of access every time there is an avalanche or landslide.  There is no news on any other front and I realise that I have only missed one working day.  Gosh, it feels like I've missed at least a week.

I dial up Grace next.

"Hey girl!  How was the wedding?" she asks.

"It was a wedding.  How do you think it was?
”  I roll my eyes.

"
Mmm.  What about the farm?" 

"Grace, it's not a farm; it's a mountain lodge.  And aside from being stuck here with a beast of a mountain man for a few days, it looks pretty good.  I just have a few details to sort through.  How is everything there?"

"All good.  We had a ripping party here last night, strippers and everything.  It was great.  You should have been here."

"That quiet huh?"

"Dead as a door knob," she sighs.

"Good.  I hope to be back tonight; worse case, in the morning."

"No problem.  Hey is your mountain man cute?" she digs.

"I'm not answering that!  Bye Grace!
”  I hang up, smiling.

~.~

I glance up when Chayton groans loudly in his sleep.  He has rested well but the painkillers are wearing off now and it is nearly time for his next dose.  I can tell that the growing discomfort is making him restless.  I check the clock; it is about midday.  I put my book down on the dresser and using the bed for support, hobble around to check on him.  The blankets have shifted down to his waist and his upper body and brow are glistening in a thin sheen of sweat.  Several strands of hair cling to his face and I reach out to lift them off.

"Crap!
”  I yelp as, his arms sweep around my waist and I find myself flying over his body to land on the other side of the bed. 

He rolls onto his side under the blankets and pulls me tight to him so
we are spooning and his face is snuggled into my hair.  The move took a fraction of a second and caught me so by surprise, the only reaction I have managed since yelping, is to hold my breath.  I am about to protest and struggle out of his arms when I hear a soft snore.  Fuck, the serial spooning, sleep-snogger, strikes again. 

I lay desperately still, my heart pounding, the blood roaring in my ears.  I feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes and curse their untimely arrival but understand their familiar presence.  I try to separate the tangled torrent of thoughts and emotions that are rattling about painfully in brain, anxious to make sense of them all. 
I am grateful that Chayton is asleep and unaware, affording me the time to process a reasonable reaction, instead of forcing me into a rash one.

His arms tighten slightly around my waist and I feel his breath on my neck as he sighs deeply.  Being this close to him, makes me feel safe, welcome, wanted, desired, turned on – and lonely.  Yes lonely.  It's a raw, sandblasted, sunburned, desolate ache, which his proximity is chaffing cruelly. 

I realise how badly in denial I have been.  This is what I need - to the point of desperation.  I have been telling myself that I don't want a relationship, that I don't need a relationship, that a relationship is a bad thing.  The truth is; I am just scared.  A relationship would mean a large portion of my life would be out of my control, and where would I be without that? 

Either
Chayton slips deeper into sleep or his dreams take a new direction, because I feel his arms relax.  The temptation to stay here, wrapped in his warmth, is appealing but wrong on more levels I can list.

I slowly unfold his arms from my waist and roll away from him, hopeful not to wake him.  When I think I'm a safe distance I sit up and study his face, temporarily serene and stunningly hot, despite the fact that his jaw has almost disappeared under the swelling and stubble. 

If I could, I would walk away now.  As far away as possible – and never come back.  I squirm uncomfortably on the bed, feeling the unaccustomed dampness between my legs and wipe back an escaped tear as it burns its way down my flushed cheek.

Get over yourself girl.

Crutch-less, I head to the kitchen, forcing my ankle to take more and more of my weight, using the pain to blanket everything else I'm feeling.  I warm up a bowl of soup, gather some water and push myself back down the corridor to Chayton's bedside.  I shake him awake angrily.