Long Term - Chapter 3

In the underground garage, I almost had to run to keep up with Adam, cursing my heels under my breath. If I’d known I wouldn’t be spending the weekend sitting at Adam's bedside, I’d have dressed differently.

At the beginning, Adam had apologized for his clothes when I visited him in the hospital. The sweatpants. The oversized sweater. Functional clothing for someone who can't dress himself and is cared for daily by rotating staff on tight shift schedules. I'd reassured him—after all, I knew he owned other clothes and how hot he could look in them. And I'd assured him that I considered it my special duty to dress extra sexy when he couldn't. He'd threaded his thumb through the belt loop of my shorts and didn’t object.

"The car key is at the top of my backpack."

The headlights of Adam’s gray van lit up when I pressed the button on the key. The large vehicle just barely fit under the low ceiling of the underground garage. The accessible parking space was wide enough that Adam could easily drive his powerchair up to the long side to hook a hand into the handle of the sliding door. With a whir, it opened automatically.

"So, let's see if there's still juice in it," Adam murmured after he'd fished out a small remote control hanging on a long lanyard.

"What do you mean?" I asked, stepping beside him.

Adam rotated the small black box of the remote control between his palms until it balanced right-side up on his knees. "The ramp runs on its own battery. It used to die after just a few weeks though. Drew too much power even on standby. Then I changed something, so it should actually work now."

With some effort, he pressed a button on the remote and we heard a sound like a loud hair dryer.

"Is that supposed to happen?" I asked him with raised eyebrows. I couldn’t remember if it had given the same sound before.

His shoulders shook as he laughed lightly. "Yes. The system is booting up. It would only be bad if nothing happened at all."

We both moved aside a bit and Adam pressed another button on the remote. With a whir, the metal ramp slowly unfolded down from the van and lowered itself to the ground.

"Voila! Works!“

I snorted, grinning, and Adam maneuvered the wheelchair with a concentrated look onto the narrow ramp to press another button there. He raised one hand like a greeting, smiling ironically, as the ramp lifted him along with the wheelchair until he could roll into the van. The interior of the van was almost empty except for a bench seat installed very far back for additional passengers and a bare metal floor. "You're welcome to take a seat in the passenger seat," Adam said and winked at me standing outside.

Blushing, I realized I'd been staring at him the whole time, fascinated once more by the massive technology needed to transport him and the heavy powerchair up the two steps I could overcome with a single jump.

While Adam retracted the ramp, I yanked open the passenger door and climbed onto the seat. I had to place my feet on a metal box and my knees almost hit one of the many control boxes with displays and buttons installed in the van's cockpit. I had never even attempted to try to understand what their function was. Next to my seat was gaping emptiness. Where the driver's seat would normally be, there was only a low box on the floor, similar to the one my feet were standing on. The seatbelt was already fastened and formed a kind of cross that Adam now steered his wheelchair toward. A dull, solid thump sounded as Adam reached the position next to me, which meant his wheelchair had connected to the van's floor. Adam looked at me, eyes bright with anticipation, and twisted his hand a bit into the seatbelt to pull it tighter. "Ready?"

I nodded and watched as Adam, with another effortful roll first of one shoulder, then the other, stuck his hands between the bars attached to the van's steering wheel and beside it. I knew he could steer this way, without being able to grip, and I had always felt safe with him on the trips that we’d taken in his van. I tried to remember this and push away the thoughts of Adam in bed, barely able to lift his head. "Uh... yes, ready."

"Then please press the start button once," Adam said, indicating with his chin one of the boxes directly in front of me. "The one with the engine symbol. Sorry, I forgot.”

Obviously it had been some time for him, too. I located the right button and the engine rumbled to life. “Awesome, thanks.“ Adam rolled his shoulders and then he pressed his left hand slightly forward. The van rolled forward slowly.

While Adam steered the van through the tight underground garage toward the exit, we were both silent. He was fully concentrated, steering the car with his right hand, braking and accelerating with his left. I had my hands between my knees and tried not to distract him.

"If I can't reach the call button, you'd have to jump out quickly. Can you do that for me?" Adam asked as he steered the van slowly closer to the exit barrier.

I nodded and said at the same time: "Why the call button? Don't you have a ticket?"

Adam laughed drily. "I'd be broke by now," he said while threading his left hand out of the holder. "No... I cleared it with the garage attendant."

He leaned slightly toward the door, pushing his left arm out over the open window. After some uncoordinated movements, the edge of his hand hit the button on the ticket machine, below the slot where you'd normally insert the parking ticket.

"Yes, please?" a tinny voice sounded from the machine's speaker.

"Hello, Adam Nicholson here, long-term patient on R1. I'd like to exit."

"All right, have a good trip!"

Adam grinned at me while the barrier lifted, and then he pushed the lever forward with his left hand, whereupon the van rumbled up the exit ramp. "Good, right?"

I didn't know if he meant the fact that he parked for free, or his driving skills, or the incredible fact that we were both leaving the hospital with a destination farther away than the next block. But I nodded anyway. It was all true.

Just before Adam steered the van onto the street, I heard him exhale. "Here we go," he said with quiet emphasis, more to himself than to me. As he pulled onto the right lane and the van accelerated, a cautious glow spread across his face. I watched him with a smile and resisted the sudden urge to place my hand on his forearm. It seemed Adam needed his full concentration and all his strength to steer after that long time in hospital.

"Music?"

“Hit me up, DJ.” At the next red light, Adam hit the touch screen display with his knuckles, whereupon an unfamiliar singer sang to guitar music, a song about friendship and loyalty. I leaned back. Adam’s eyes sparkled, he seemed more alive than he had in many weeks. "Where are we going?"

"Away," Adam said, slightly grim, then he winked at me.

A laugh punched out of my chest. Of course. I let my hair down, it flowed over my shoulder, and stretched my legs over the metal box under me. A device to secure Adam's wheelchair when he wasn't driving, as I knew. Gradually, the further we got from the hospital, I started to feel more like myself again. There was no telling with Adam and I knew I had to accept it, if I didn’t want to get crazy with worry. He knew his body best. He always had.

As we drove along the nearly empty streets, soon in an area completely unfamiliar to me, large townhouses on both sides, a two-lane road ahead of us and music in our ears, I had to think about what Adam had said. Long-term patient. Why that had surprised me so much, I don't know. Basically, I'd long known that after two months, Adam was probably exactly that. For a while now, I hadn't dared to ask when his health would improve enough that he could leave the hospital.

Truly leave, as amazing as our current outing in itself felt, we both knew it couldn’t be more than just a temporary escape.

"Something tells me you may be hungry,” Adam said at the next red light, looking at me. “Up for pizza? Nicole recommended a place to me."

This time I gave in to the urge and squeezed his forearm. "Mmm... always!"

He continued to look at me, silent and intensely, which made my stomach flip and for a moment I entirely forgot the hospital and the horror of recent weeks. "I'd much rather show you my hotel room, though,” I murmured and bit my lip as my eyes shot up to his. Immediately, I retracted, feeling much too bold. “Only for some rest, I mean... if you think that's possible at all? Absolutely okay if not, I really do like pizza."

Certainly a completely insane idea, but our first chance in two months for some private time alone, just the two of us. No nurses or doctors, no other patients or visitors who had to pretend they couldn't hear our conversations or weren't watching us. We didn't have to find a quiet corner in the cafeteria or a restaurant to have something like privacy. We could actually close a door behind us. Our own room.

Contrary to expectation, Adam nodded. "Of course,“ he murmured, then cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish. “The restaurant has a step anyway."

At least one time that accessibility issues had an upside. I exhaled excitedly and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered as if we were on our way to our first date. Only for a rest, I told myself, sternly. On impulse, I leaned over to Adam to sneak in a quick kiss on his cheek before the light turned green. As he accelerated the car again, I pulled out my phone. "I'll order us takeout, okay?"

"Sure," he said softly, his gaze briefly meeting mine before directing it back to the road, attentive. The hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth remained.

Shortly before we reached the restaurant, Adam asked me to enter the address into the GPS. He steered the van through a maze of small old town streets, many of them one-way, and finally parked in front of a pedestrian zone.

"It shouldn't be far from here," he said, trying to move the map view on the display with his pinky finger. I knew he had permission to drive the van in pedestrian zones and park there, but here two bollards blocked our way.

"I'll walk over quickly," I said quickly, studying the route on my phone. "It's just around the corner from here. Really not far. All right?"

Adam nodded silently; I could see he didn't like that I had to get the pizza alone for us, even if he would have had to wait outside anyway. We kissed hungrily before I jumped out and hurried across the street, Adam's gaze on my back. I swayed my hips and imagined him chuckling in the car at the sight of me. And how he might also feel a bit of the heat that climbed up my cheeks.

The warmth of the pizza boxes I balanced on my legs radiated through my clothes when I sat next to Adam again just a few minutes later. The smell of pizza was intoxicating and suddenly I realized how starved I was. After just two blocks I'd almost completely finished my raspberry lemonade, just to have something in my stomach. At a red light, I offered Adam the straw of his iced tea. He thanked me with a grunt and regarded the increasing traffic with a frown.

"By the time we get to the hotel, the pizzas will be cold," Adam noted with a sidelong glance at me. "Want to stop up there for a bit?" he asked, indicating with his head. "That looks like a park. We'll try to find a bench for you somewhere."

"That's the best idea in a long time," I remarked grinning, gripping the pizza boxes, as the van started moving again. I knew he was only making the suggestion to eat in the park because my stomach had been audibly growling since I'd gotten back in.

We found a parallel parking spot along the side street by the small park, which consisted of little more than a green strip. Adam parked against the direction of traffic since the curb was too high to extend the ramp in that direction. With the pizza boxes in my arms, I stood in the street and waved at the drivers as the ramp slowly and rattling unfolded onto the road. Most turned around when they saw the van and the ramp that soon blocked the entire lane. It took seemingly forever until Adam had maneuvered the wheelchair onto the ramp, then lowered the ramp and rolled back down. By now a line of cars had formed on both sides that couldn't move forward or back and had to wait until the ramp was retracted, Adam had dropped the remote control onto the step in the van, and I had closed the sliding door. Finally, we could look for a dropped curb where Adam could steer the wheelchair onto the sidewalk. The cars that slowly squeezed past each other and out of the street behind us took no notice of us.

We found no bench, but I was too hungry to search longer and sat down on my jacket on a patch of grass, legs crossed, and tore off large pieces of pizza, which of course was already cold despite everything. Occasionally I folded one together to hold it up to Adam.

"Pretty good," I murmured with my mouth full and beamed up at Adam, who also seemed satisfied.

"I'm so glad you didn't starve," he joked between two bites and I had to laugh. Yes, that could definitely have happened.

I'd pushed a piece with pear, goat cheese, and spinach between Adam's half-closed fingers where he could hold it securely enough to eat independently. Nevertheless, I noticed he ate far less than I did, even when I slowed my eating pace. After three pieces he was full and I ate two more before I too called it quits and transferred the remaining pizza slices into one of the two boxes.

With a tissue, I wiped the grease from my fingers and offered Adam one too. He watched me, amused, as I unfolded the stiff fingers of his large hand one by one and wiped them until they no longer glistened.

"Sorry," I apologized. "There's a sink at the hotel, you can wash your hands properly there." Carefully, I pulled the fingerless glove that had been lying in his lap back over his hand and fastened the velcro. Then I placed his hand on the armrest of the wheelchair and squeezed it gently.

"Okay..." Adam leaned his cheek into my stomach. "I think I really need to lie down."

“Oh yeah?” I giggled and ran my free hand through his hair, wondering what he meant. That he needed to lie down was something we'd used as a little excuse in the past—before the hospital—to retreat to our hotel room even at midday, where we'd done everything but rest. At the same time, Adam could only mean it literally now, could he? Not even a week after surgery, no matter how minor, he probably shouldn't even be driving halfway across town and picnic in his wheelchair. How long was he allowed to sit? I was sure his time in the wheelchair was indeed limited.

Adam sighed involuntarily as my fingertips ran along his neck and I felt the vibration travel from my stomach through the rest of my body. I closed my eyes, heard his breathing accelerate.

"Let's go to the hotel," I murmured. "The room is really okay."

"I'm convinced of it," Adam whispered, still leaning into me. "You booked it after all."

I laughed and as he tilted his head back slightly, I bent down for a kiss. We were still in a public place, but much more unobserved than in the hospital, and I felt myself sinking into it like I hadn't in so many weeks. My lips parted and his tongue slid past my teeth. The back of his hand brushed my thigh, featherlight, and immediately my knees went weak.

I almost jerked back, catching myself at the last second, landing somewhere on an undecided wobble. I can’t. We can’t. That’s not on the table today.

But Adam leaned back a bit and pushed the armrest along with the control console upward with a jerky movement so I could sit on his lap. It was like I had never left that place.

While we kissed, my hand wandered over his shoulders, along his temples, up into his hair. He shuddered and another sigh escaped him. I had to break the kiss and lean my forehead against his, dizzy. Confused. Longing. His skin was hot. Our breathing came in quick bursts, and suddenly the desire was overwhelming that we could just lie down in the grass and fall over each other. When Adam's knuckles stroked over my hair, gentle but halting, the realization hit me mercilessly that that would never happen. The material of the glove tugged at my hair and his lips were pressed together with effort. While two inches of height difference to the bed was already a problem, the ground was unreachable for Adam and me.

"To the hotel?" Adam asked, his eyes fixed on me as if he'd read my thoughts.

I swallowed, didn’t know what to believe anymore, and kissed him once more, as if trying to imprint the feeling in my memory forever, before jumping up. "Absolutely.”

As we walked back to the car and Adam repeated the necessary process for getting into the van, I tried not to be impatient. Adam needed to rest, that was the main reason we were driving to the hotel. And it was good enough for me. We were together, that was all that mattered. It was indescribable to see him like this. Outside, alive, awake. Everything else was secondary.