Long Term - Chapter 8

"I've been thinking," Adam said.

The drive through the nighttime city back to the hospital had been silent. We were both dead tired from the past couple of hours. It felt like several days to me. At the same time I knew I would draw on some of the past moments in the hotel much longer than that. On the physical closeness to Adam, his quiet words, him coming apart under my hands. I’d remember his tender touches in all places, like a warm tingle beneath my skin. I knew how much determination lay behind every one of his movements, what strength, what willpower was required. I’d carry the sensations with me forever, his smell and his soft moans, the feeling of his smooth skin under my fingers, his hot breath on my thighs.

 "Okay?" I laid my hand around Adam's hand, which was still stuck in the steering device. The gate had lifted for us again, and after Adam had parked and turned off the engine, the silence had grown even louder. The underground garage surrounded us, dark and deserted. Besides us, no one was out at this late hour, neither patients nor visitors, and only a few cars were parked.

Adam pulled his gaze away from the middle distance. “Hm…” But he didn’t elaborate yet.

We were back at the hospital. Adam would soon return to the shared room with the other patients. The place where he‘d been stuck for two months and would stay for… how much longer?

My thumb moved across Adam’s hand in small circles, reassuring myself of his presence. Already now the past hours started to feel distant, like they had happened in a dream I’d conjured up by wishing very hard.

"I lost my job," Adam finally murmured.

“Oh no, Adam, I…“ I squeezed his hand tighter. “I’m so sorry.”

But he shook his head. “It was to be expected; they kept me on far too long. I was sick more than really able to work in the last year. And then the last two months... I suppose they had no choice." He leaned his head back against the headrest of the wheelchair and shrugged. It didn't surprise me that he wasn't really attached to his online marketing job. He'd never had much interest in it. "But I already have a new offer." He glanced at me and I didn't interrupt him, nodded. I could feel this was an important moment for him. "They want to hire me here, at the SCI center."

Despite my resolution not to interrupt him, a surprised "Oh" escaped me. My hand fell to his thigh, stroked down to his knee. Was it a good idea for him to work in a place that meant so much hardship for him? I knew this part of his life had started out here, just after his injury, when he‘d been a teenager. And still…

Adam turned somewhat sideways and slightly wiggled his arms to free his hands from the steering device.

"As a counselor for patients. Especially newly injured people. I have a bit of experience, don't I? I think I could pass on something. Tricks, assistance, many things that none of the staff here knows. Practical and mental support."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah… I see." I couldn’t deny that Adam seemed perfect for the job. He had spent a large part of his life in a wheelchair; by now he knew a solution for almost every situation. No one knew that better than I did and today had just reinforced that. For Adam, the usual rules for people with quadriplegia didn't seem to apply. Despite his high-level injury, he'd fought his way to a remarkably independent life. Of course, he frequently relied on assistance. But that was exactly the point, because the people assisting him also needed to be organized, trained and directed. He was a master at that. And in the end, he always achieved what he wanted anyway.

"That's actually… great.“ I ruminated. "I can totally picture you doing that!"

"Yeah?" His eyes searched my face, apprehensive.

I nodded again, growing more enthusiastic the more I thought about it. "Absolutely! I didn't know this position even existed. Kind of like peer counseling, right?"

He nodded more eagerly. "Exactly that. There’s a proper training program for counselors at the center."

I leaned back. "Wow!” After a while, when I noticed him still staring at me, I added: “They couldn't find anyone better than you.” I beamed at him. "You'll blow them all away, I know it."

"Are you sure?" He was looking away briefly, embarrassed.

"Yes! Sure! You're great with people. Just look how you got us into the hotel today. And hey, I can testify that you're a good teacher. After all, I did pretty well with the hotel room, didn't I?"

Adam laughed. "You did perfectly, really."

I smiled, satisfied. "See? Back when we first met you handled all the bookings and reservations, remember? And now it’s just something I do, even if I don’t know if we’ll need it." I thought back on the check-in this afternoon and grinned to myself. Good thing I was such a diligent student. Absolutely overachieving. “Literally everything, helping you with transfers, clothing, the urine bag… you taught me that.”

“Yeah….” He nodded slowly, frowning slightly.

"You have a knack for it,” I insisted softly. “And I’m sure you're really needed here."

He blinked and took a deep breath. Finally he spoke again. "I believe that too,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t pay much, but I think I would really like to give it a try, at least."

“That’s awesome.” I leaned over the many technical devices between us and gave Adam an eager, overjoyed kiss. "I'm keeping my fingers crossed for the new job,” I said against his lips.

"Thanks." Adam smiled, visibly pulled himself together and winked at me. "Do you still remember which button releases the wheelchair lock?"

I laughed, easily changing gears as well. "Who do you take me for? I’m your A-plus student after all." I pressed a button and with a rumble the lock on Adam's wheelchair released. He placed his hand on the armrest and started the wheelchair. I quickly squeezed past him into the van's cargo area and snatched the remote control that Adam had placed in a compartment in the side door to extend the ramp.

"Next time you drive," Adam joked while we waited for the ramp to fully lower.

"With the hand controls? Do you want to put me in a wheelchair too?"

Adam chuckled. "Then I'd have my first patient to coach."

"Tsk. No need. I’d make a perfectly capable quad as it is, thank you very much."

Adam scoffed. “That remains to be seen.”

We laughed about the absurdity of our banter.

An impatient security guard was waiting for us at the elevator and let us in personally. I tried not to meet his reproachful gaze while Adam chatted effortlessly with him.

We walked along the lit, deserted hallway toward R1 and the squeaking of Adam's tires on the smooth floor echoed loudly in my ears.

"There he is! Mr. Nicholson, how are you?" A nurse hurried toward us. I recognized her; it was Jasmine. "We were so worried," she called out, a little louder than necessary. "Well, let's get you to bed then." She bent down to Adam and whispered: "But quickly now, Adam, before the ward manager comes too. She wasn't very enthusiastic about your absence."

"Oh..." I uttered. I hadn’t spared much thought as to whether our little road trip was sanctioned by the clinic. Thank god they didn’t know all the details.

They didn’t, did they?

As I hurried along Adam toward room 174, I remembered the overly enthusiastic greeting from the nurses when I’d arrived this afternoon, the unusually cheerful attention when we’d left, and I felt my cheeks heat. I hadn’t paid much attention to anything else but Adam back then, much too emotionally compromised to do more than try not to dissolve into a puddle. But of course they wouldn’t let Adam leave the hospital so soon on regular terms, I should’ve known that. What had he told the nurses, in order to be able to sneak away?

"Thank you so much," Adam said loudly while pushing the joystick forward again. I hurried after them both. "I apologize for the delay. We had, uh, technical problems, won't happen again," he called, addressed to the ward manager in her office.

"I'll make sure of that," Jasmine said, equally loud. "I'm going to have a serious talk with you, Mr. Nicholson."

At the door to room number 174, the nurse eyed us critically. "You don't look like you fell out of bed," she whispered, her eyebrows dancing.

Adam sighed and raised his shoulders.

"It's fine, nobody really took Ronald seriously. But we were a bit worried," she added, stern but smiling. "Was it at least worth it?"

Adam’s gaze flickered to me and I immediately blushed.

"Well, uh..." I began stammering.

"Absolutely," Adam confirmed with a serious face. "We had a beautiful day counting blossoms in the park. Thanks," he whispered before Jasmine opened the room door, a grin barely suppressed.

Before Jasmine could go in, she paused and pulled her pager from the pocket of her scrubs. "Damn. You can handle this alone, right Rachel?"

"Uh, what?" God, I was so tired… I wanted nothing more but sit and watch someone way more competent work with Adam.

"Sure," Adam grunted and Jasmine hurried down the hallway and away.

Adam winked at me and I threw my hands up and followed him into the dimly lit room where the other patients were already fast asleep. I figured this was Jasmine’s payback for covering for us. It was no problem, not really. Adam's nighttime routine was very familiar to me.

“You’re a terrible sneak, Mr. Nicholson,” I whispered mere minutes later as I squeezed toothpaste onto Adam’s toothbrush, then wedged it between his palms.

We were in the brightly lit bathroom adjacent to the patient room and I had closed the sliding doors firmly behind us.

He grinned at me. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I nudged his shoulder. “We’re basically hospital gossip number one. Hot off the press.”

He leaned his head forward to spit out into the washing basin and chuckled. “I didn’t say a thing. It’s all in their heads.”

I groaned. “Exactly what I’m saying.”

Once he’d finished brushing and rinsed the toothbrush I combed Adam’s hair. Not because he didn’t have a way to do it himself, just because I enjoyed raking my fingers through the strands as I went. We both looked at his haggard reflection in the low bathroom mirror, skin illuminated cruelly by the bright light.

“Needs a haircut, huh?”

I messed up the formerly orderly brushed hair again. ”I quite like it that way,” I mused. Adam shook his head slightly to clear the mess.

Fortunately the patient bed was height-adjustable, so the transfer turned out to be much less problematic this time. We worked quietly in the dim room so as not to wake up the sleeping patients. Barely a word was needed between us as we went through the routine: pulling Adam forward at the knees, Adam sitting freely, sliding board in place, me bracketing his legs and then him sliding over, only marginally assisted by me. As he braced his head against my shoulder I sneaked a kiss into his hair, making him hum quietly in acknowledgment. The sound went deep through my very core.

I helped Adam with lying down again, making sure to fluff up the pillow behind his head. “Good?”

He nodded. “Thanks.” His eyes rested on me as he said it, making me stop short.

“What?”

But Adam shook his head, “Nothing.”

I didn’t press it.

Adam always slept in a shirt, so I stripped his sweatpants down his unresponsive legs, trying not to think of how they had betrayed him just an hour ago. Now they were still and soft, feet flopping once as I pulled the pants off completely, knee giving way as I arranged them in line with the rest of his body. Playing innocent.

“Do you have a heating blanket?“ I asked with a hand on one of Adam’s knees. His legs felt quite cold to me, although the hospital room was pretty warm already. This wasn’t unusual for him and I knew from experience he often travelled with an electric heating blanket.

“There may be a blanket over there.” He gestured with his head.

Every patient had a small compartment in the cupboard lining the wall. As I opened the doors to Adam’s, it almost spilled over with clothes. Of course, he’d need enough clothes for weeks here, depending on how often his parents came to swap them out.

Following his whispered instructions I covered his legs with the woollen blanket I’d located, then I helped him out of his hoodie and into a shirt. Finally I maneuvered the powerchair to the side so the nurses could reach his bed.

"Do you need anything to drink?" I asked quietly. He shook his head.

I tucked him in with his regular blanket as well, then sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Next time I promise less adventure," Adam murmured.

I giggled quietly. "Then I'd almost be bored."

"Oh?" he teased and lifted his head slightly. I closed the distance between our lips and we lost ourselves in each other for a few minutes.

"Okay, I guess I wouldn't be so bored after all," I murmured in his ear.

The room door opened and Jasmine came in. I straightened quickly, pretending I didn’t notice her grin.

"Thank you," she whispered to me. "Adam, here are your pills for the night." Another nurse also came in and began waking Ronald to turn him.

I stood, Adam’s limp hand still in mine. “I’ll come by for breakfast tomorrow before my train leaves, alright?” I could stop by a bakery or we could go to the cafeteria on the ground floor for some decent coffee. Better than anything they offered Adam in his room, though definitely not coming close to the breakfast buffet at my hotel, I was afraid.

Adam swallowed the pills with water from a sipping cup that Jasmine held for him. “Or…” he ruminated once he’d thanked her with a nod. “You ask for a late checkout and I come by the hotel.”

“Are you sure?” I whispered, leaning over him. I could practically feel the nurses listening in around us.

“Damn sure,” Adam murmured. “I need a night of sleep… or a few hours, anyway, and I’ll be as good as new. I assume there’ll be eggs and bacon?”

I laughed at his cheeky expression. He did need to eat more. “Maybe even pancakes. It’s Sunday.” The pancakes I was making up and Adam knew.

He smirked. “Then I’ll definitely make it or die trying.”

“Please don’t.”

He snorted.

“See you tomorrow then,” I whispered and gave his hand a last squeeze. He couldn’t squeeze back but he weakly tugged at it and I followed the intended direction to his lips where he pressed a kiss into the back of my hand.

“Sweet dreams.”

I bit on my lip. “I’ll sure have those,” I murmured, blushing despite myself. I leaned down to Adam and we kissed goodbye, eyes closed, tried to block out everything around us—the dim light, sleepy murmuring of patients, busy work on people, beds, machines. Then I left, with a last look back, into Adam’s tired eyes from the pillow.