Free The Pain Nurse by Jon Talton Page A

was time to shut up.
    “I’ll try to do better. I won’t bother Dodds.”
    They sat quietly, more aware of the overhead lights as the city was overtaken by the early dusk.
    “I talked to the woman in charge of rehab today,” Will said. “She said you could talk to her about starting the process to get me out of here, bring me home.” He laughed. “Everything’s a ‘process’ now.”
    Cindy sighed and nervously tugged at her skirt.
    “It would be nice to come home for Christmas.”
    “This is too soon,” she said. “I see how you need help to even get into your wheelchair. We’d have to modify the house with ramps…”
    “So I’ll get a couple of big cops to wrestle me into a car.”
    “And what about when you’re home? I can’t even begin to…”
    He reached over and took her hand. “You won’t have to. I can be very self-sufficient. You’d be amazed at what I can accomplish just here in the hospital. I won’t be trouble. Pretty soon I’ll be walking.”
    Her gaze moved past him, again. “We haven’t lived together in a long time.”
    He felt a paw grip his insides. He said quietly, “I know.”
    “Your doctors say you’ll need a lot of physical therapy.”
    “I’ll get it. I’ll do a lot better on the outside. God, I can’t even sleep. Can’t you talk to them? Please, Cindy, get me out of this place.” He knew he was pleading. He couldn’t stop the urgent cadence of his voice.
    “I brought your stuff.”
    He could tell she was managing him.
    He was too tired to fight her. Too scared. After a moment, he looked through the bag she had brought. Another two pairs of sweatpants and some T-shirts, a CD player and CDs, small packets of Kleenex, his wallet with cash inside.
    “Thanks. I haven’t even been able to buy a Coke.” He paused. “I feel bad that I wasn’t able to get you a Christmas present. Remember, the doctors wouldn’t let me drive once they found the tumor.”
    “It’s okay.” Her voice was barely audible. She was carrying the Coach handbag he had gotten her for Christmas two years before, meant as a peace offering as their marriage was coming apart, piece by piece. The room had emptied out completely. They were alone with the hospital smell and the Christmas garlands.
    “Will, I can’t…”
    He suddenly felt such heaviness. She could have just stood and walked away, simple movements that were both miracles in his new life. But she sat there and spoke.
    “I’m not like you,” she said quietly. The harshness fell from her eyes, replaced by tears. “I’m not noble. I have a job. You have a…calling.” She didn’t speak the words like a compliment. He gripped her hand but she pulled it away. “I can’t put my whole life on a shelf to, to…put it right for the dead. I’m not a damsel in distress anymore, so what am I to you? I’m not a murder victim.”
    “Cindy…”
    “I can’t…” She waved him away, pulled into herself. Her face became red and tears streaked her cheeks.
    “It’s okay.”
    “It’s not!” Her eyes were red and fierce. “You’re always so goddamned reasonable! It’s not okay. None of it is. And you know it! You’ve never even forgiven me…”
    “That’s not true.” He felt a sucking hole in his middle. He reached for her again, but she pushed away.
    “Wait, Will. Please. I’m not…I can’t. You and I, we’re just too different. I can’t do this.”
    “Can’t do what?”
    “I thought I could. I had thought it all through. I wanted to wait for all this to be over. I prayed you would be all right, and I’m so glad you came through the surgery. But this is never going to be over. Don’t you get it? Will, I can’t do this. I can’t take care of you, be your nurse.”
    “I don’t need a nurse!”
    “I can’t give up the rest of my life. I’ve given up so much already, for you, for Sam, and he won’t even talk to us. I have a career. I’m still young. I’m entitled to a life, you know.”
    He had met her at a