Fall From Grace. KRISTI GOLD

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СКАЧАТЬ How many people had he reduced to utter humiliation by holding a conversation while they sat on a bedpan? He swore if he ever got out of this mess, if he ever recovered enough to resume his career—and that was a big if—he’d never let it happen again.

      Jack clenched his jaw and hissed, “Sh-shut the d-damn door, Pete.”

      Pete blinked as though he’d just woken up to reality. “Sure, Doc. Sorry.” He closed the door with a hangdog look and studied the toilet while Jack finished washing.

      “I’m done,” Jack pronounced, realizing how much truth rang out in his words.

      Pete helped him dry off, replaced the hospital gown with a clean one and rolled him back into the room. He maneuvered Jack out of the chair and into bed, readjusted all the equipment and monitors, then raised the side rails, leaving him feeling like a caged animal. Couldn’t they see he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon? Except maybe home alone to wallow in his pity with a stranger attending to his needs. Unless he decided to take Annie up on her offer. Nope. Couldn’t do that. He couldn’t tolerate her sympathy on a daily basis. They’d both be miserable.

      The loud reverberation of activity at the adjacent nurses’ station traveled into the room. Jack would normally welcome the sound, but right now it clanked in his head.

      He brought his attention back to Pete, who was finishing cleanup. “When you leave, sh-shut the door. Can’t sleep with all the noise.”

      Pete gave him a quick salute. “Yes, sir.” Then he left Jack alone to study the ceiling and wonder how in the hell he would ever survive this mess. How he would deal with the inability to take care of himself in very basic ways. Like now. He had to pee, which had become a major ordeal since they’d removed his catheter that morning. Fortunately some of the equipment still worked, or at least the plumbing. He shot a glance at the bedside table, determined to get the damn plastic urinal and do it himself. But the table was on his right side, out of his reach.

      He tried to maneuver himself enough to retrieve it, skirting all sorts of tubes and lines, but to no avail. His body was too dead and the table was too far away. He pressed the button on the bed’s metal arm with his good hand to summon the nurse, but it didn’t work. Raising his head as far as he could, he noticed the cord curled on the floor like a hangman’s noose, detached from outlet.

      Goddammit! Trapped like a prisoner with no way to communicate. He considered yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs about the injustice, their incompetence. Rant like a madman who had totally lost his mind along with his ability to function normally.

      He had lost everything. His dignity. His pride. So what good would shouting do? It wouldn’t take away the pain, the loneliness. The loss. And he felt it all as sharp as a razor’s edge.

      But instead of shouting, he did the one thing no one would expect, not even him.

      He wept.

      CHAPTER 5

      “These have to be the most pansy-ass pajamas I’ve ever seen. What am I supposed to do with them?”

      Anne couldn’t help but laugh over Jack’s reaction, any more than she’d been able to resist purchasing the pj’s earlier that day. “How about wearing them?”

      “I don’t wear pajamas to bed.”

      That was news to Anne, considering she had no idea what he wore to bed. She hadn’t been near his bed. In fact, after four dates, the man hadn’t even kissed her yet. She was beginning to feel a bit like only his pal, or a pariah.

      She yanked the top from his grasp and held it up. “Just look at all the little blue stethoscopes. They’re adorable. Who wouldn’t want to wear them?”

      “Me. I don’t do adorable.”

      “That’s rich, Jack. I’ve seen your hula-girl surgical cap.”

      “That’s not adorable. That’s a conversation piece.”

      She feigned a dejected look. “You won’t make an exception for me? I mean, I went to all this trouble to celebrate Groundhog Day….”

      “Since when does Groundhog Day warrant a celebration?”

      Since she’d begun to search for any excuse to see him. “That’s not the point. The point is I brought you to the batting cage, bought your dinner—”

      “Yeah. A great couple of tacos.”

      She patted his leg. “It’s the thought that counts.”

      He moved closer to her on the bench and draped his arm around her shoulder. “Tell you what. We’ll go back to my place, I’ll model the pajamas for you, and then I’ll take them off and you’ll tell me what you prefer.”

      She leaned away and pointed a finger at him. “Aha! There’s the Jack Morgan I’ve heard about in the hospital halls. The charming sex machine who’s reportedly bedded half the staff.”

      “Don’t believe everything you hear, Annie. When would I have had time to bed half the staff?”

      “During your coffee break or in the on-call rooms?”

      “I only have five-minute coffee breaks and I use the on-call rooms for sleeping.”

      “Why should I believe you?”

      “Because you’re the only woman I’ve been with, or cared to be with, in months.”

      “But not in a sexual sense.” She hated the insecurity in her voice. Hated even more that she’d posed such a leading question.

      “If you’re asking whether I want to make love to you, the answer is yes. I think about it all the time.”

      So did she. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

      “Do you want me to kiss you now, right here in front of all these Little Leaguers?”

      She did. With all her heart, she did. “Not if it’s going to embarrass you. And not if you don’t care to, of course.”

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