Author's Note: All thanks to my editor, shygirlwhore.
*
She called me in at about 5:00am.
"Jimmy, can you bring me some fresh water?"
I fetched it for her. No mention of last night.
"Stay with me? I need to make it to 6 o'clock to get back on schedule for these pain killers."
I nodded. We watched some videos on her tablet. She bore the pain, and I held her. It wasn't as bad as that first night, and it didn't come in waves. It was more of a constant build up.
She made it. I gave her the meds, and she zonked out.
***
Nurse Jane came to visit me when she heard me in the upstairs kitchen.
"She wants to see you," she said.
"Right." I started off.
"Did you have to change her underwear last night?"
I stopped. "Uh, yeah. She had to pee and it got messy."
"Alrighty."
I went downstairs and Claire smiled when I came in.
"Nurse Jane didn't follow you, did she?"
I was confused. "Uh, no."
"I told her I wanted to talk to you alone."
"Right. What's up?"
"Jimmy, I'm sick of having weird ladies take care of me. I hate it that they're cleaning up after me and feeding me and washing me. It's just humiliating having them in my personal space. Also, the new pain killers are working really well, and my back is improving. What I'm saying is I think in the next few days, I'll be more independent. Maybe I'll have the brace off, even."
"Okay."
"So, will you be my full-time nurse?"
"Claire, I'm no nurse. I don't know what I'm doing if..."
"Nothing is going to happen, Jimmy. And you're wrong: you've done a great job."
I didn't say anything.
"I trust you, Jimmy. I'm okay with you, you know, doing those things. You're not like those weird ladies."
"But, my Mom, she'll freak."
"She won't know."
"How?"
"I'm paying for the nurses, not her."
"She's going to call. She's going to want to talk to them."
"Don't answer. Send her a text saying I'm doing great."
"What if she comes home this weekend?"
"Then we tell her we let them have the weekend off because we knew she was coming home."
I considered.
"Look, Jimmy. It's like I said: by the time she figures it out I'll be good."
"And if something bad happens?"
"It won't. But, you can take me to the emergency room if it does."
"So, I just hang out with you all day, feeding you and stuff?"
"It won't be all day. You'll have time to go out for a few hours here and there. I'm not going to make you sit by my bedside all day."
I was thinking. I'd get to see her naked. A lot. I'd have to clean a little piss from her pussy—that wasn't so bad. I'd have to wipe her ass, though, and that was gross. But, maybe, just maybe—when she was high on her meds—I could feel those tits again, finger that pussy. Jerk off to her naked body. For a week or two? Fuck, yeah, I was going to do it.
"Please, Jimmy, I can't have these women that I don't know around me anymore. I need you. I trust you."
"Right. I'll do it."
"Oh, thank you! Gimme a hug!"
I went over and hugged her softly. She pecked me on the cheek.
"Okay, send Nurse Jane down," she said
I did, and I never saw her again. Claire needed her medicine a short time later. I gave it to her and hung out, hoping for something to happen.
She asked for food. I brought her a sandwich and some crackers. I fed her and watched her slowly descend into the woozy grip of her pain killers.
But, this time was different. Claire sank into depression. I spent the hour consoling her, wiping tears from her eyes, and listening to her disappointment about nationals. Then, she slept.
Later that day, I had to help her in the bathroom. She made it easy on me, but it was no fun. On a hunch, I did some online shopping and found some devices designed for situations like hers, personal hygiene tools. I showed them to her on her tablet and she had me order a few of them—rush delivery. I had to put up with bathroom duty the next day, but the day after that, I was free.
The one duty I didn't mind at all—the sponge bath—I got to keep that job.
But giving a sponge bath to a depressed woman was not so enjoyable. Claire's descent into sadness didn't make being her nurse as much fun as I hoped. Her back was definitely improving, but her emotional state only got worse.
I spent a lot of time giving hugs, listening, and just hanging out with a supremely disappointed, albeit beautifully sexy, woman.
I was getting frustrated, and on the night of my third day as her full-time nurse, I ordered Claire up.
"I don't need the bathroom."
"We're not going to the bathroom."
"Where are we going?"
"Outside for a walk."
She hesitated.
I pursued. "Claire, it's like eleven, most everyone's in bed who would care, everyone else is drunk. I brought one of Mom's bathrobes for you. Look. And it's a nice night. Come on, lets go get some air."
She nodded.
We went slowly, and when we got outside, something in her changed. Her forlorn expression turned tranquil. Getting outside the house was somehow like turning off the engine on a boat—one remembers how peaceful and beautiful the lake really is. I held her waist, and she gingerly put one foot in front of the next. We could hear the night, not the air conditioner and the television. We smelled June. We glanced at television lights in windows, but we admired the stars. I don't think either of us said a word.
We didn't go far, down the block and back. It was almost time for her meds.
Once back in bed and comfortable, I gave Claire her midnight pain killer. I had given up hope regarding any further sexual liaisons, but I was hopeful that our walk made it so that I wouldn't have to steel myself for an hour or so of bitter sadness.
The pain killers were taking effect, and Claire was utterly silent, laying back with her eyes closed. I got up from my chair and made to leave before I heard her speak.
"Stay. Pleeeease."
"Sure."
She smiled and looked me over. "I like you, college boy."
"Thanks."