Author Note: This is a sequel to "Mr. Monk Gets Sick," another one of my stories. This story will be slightly better understood if you read "Sick" first, but it doesn't follow it too too closely. If something seems wrong to you, that's because it was first mentioned in "Sick." Enjoy everyone, and please review so I have the initiative to finish this story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Adrian, Natalie, Sharona, Trevor, Julie, Cheryl, Stottlemeyer, Disher, and the other characters of Monk. USA Network and the producers do, and boy, am I jealous.
"How are you feeling, Mom?" the blonde said to a gently smiling older woman in a hospital bed.
"You don't have to worry about me, Sharona," the woman responded. Cheryl Fleming had completely recovered from the stroke she had had ten months ago, and her speech was flawless as it had once been. Even though no incidents had occurred since then, Sharona was always on edge as to some symptom, some minute speck of a recurrence that her mother might have. It had been tough to notice everything, though, for Sharona had a son to take care of and a husband to avoid.
Sharona sat in a chair next to her mother's bed wearing her scrubs and flat-bottomed tennis shoes.
"I can't help but worry about you. I should have known about that step. It's probably been coming loose for months now."
"That's not your fault. It's in my own house, and I didn't even notice it. I'll be out of here before you know it, honey."
"I know, but I just get scared." She leaned in closer to her mother, as the older woman ran a hand along her cheek and winked playfully.
"You worry too much."
Sharona had been sitting at her mother's side on and off all day, for this was the hospital in which she worked. Cheryl Fleming had been admitted this morning by a concerned neighbor who had witnessed the woman's fall as she descended the threshold step to retrieve the paper.
The blonde nurse glanced up at the loudly ticking wall clock, finding that her shift was up for the evening. Visiting hours had been over for three hours now, for it was eleven o'clock at night.
"Aw, Mom, I've kept you way too long. I should have let you sleep."
"It's alright, Sharona. I'll be home tomorrow."
Sharona stood up next to the bed, and straightened her scrubs.
"If you have any problems, please give me a call, anytime—"
Cheryl reached up and grabbed her daughter's shoulder.
"I'm going to be fine. It was just a fall. I didn't even break anything. I'm in the best place I can be."
"I know, Mom, I know. Goodnight. I love you." She leaned down and kissed her mother on the cheek.
"I love you too, Sharona. Sleep tight, and don't worry about me, okay?" She proceeded to return the kiss, and her daughter left her room with a smile and a little wave as she shut the door.
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Sharona drove home from the hospital that night thinking about her mother's recent fall. Even though Cheryl hadn't been hurt, she couldn't help but think of her mother as being unhealthy, for she was staying overnight at the hospital. The nurse couldn't help but think back the last time she had seen Adrian Monk. He had been very sick, possibly on the verge of—nah, he would have recovered fine, even if she hadn't returned, right? Thoughts of her former boss only upset her now, for she had again neglected to leave a contact number or address with him. But the past was the past. Maybe Adrian's been reinstated in this time. Maybe he's solved Trudy's murder. Maybe he's gotten a new assistant—jealousy clouded her brain at the thought of him with someone else, and she frowned.
"But why?" she heard herself say aloud. She attempted to picture the scenario. Monk, walking down the street, touching every parking meter, with a woman at his side, handing him a wipe each time. The picture in her head of this situation gave her a slight chill. If he did get a new assistant, would she treat him better than I did? How would she handle his compulsions? She shook her head. I handled him great. He'll never get over how great I treated him—wait, why am I saying that? I want him to be happy. I want him to be cured. God, I'm quite the psycho, hoping he's still pining away for my help—maybe he realized that so he told me I should go…
She attempted to divert her thoughts by turning on the radio. It snapped on to the smooth sound of Art Garfunkel's voice singing "I Only Have Eyes For You" and she felt her eyes tingling. Yet another reminder of Adrian. She thought back to that evening, after he had returned from his date with Monica Waters. She had never seen him so excited, so giddy, as he had been that night.
Monk had called Sharona to come over for some random reason, but spent a whole hour talking about how great Monica was—and how much she reminded him of Trudy. Truth to tell, she had felt a bit envious of the praise Monica was receiving. If Monica had only known what Adrian had said about her, she may have considered leaving her husband for him.
"—And we went to Trudy's and my favorite restaurant, the Cucina Italia," he began. "Wow, it's changed since I last went there—you wouldn't believe; the chalk board was moved to a different spot, and they even have new salt and pepper shakers. We sat near the jukebox—"
"That's all that's changed? Adrian, my God, you remember every little thing, dontcha?"
He shrugged as he glanced down for a second, and then returned his gaze to Sharona, an unmistakable glimmer in his eye.
"She seemed really interested in me, Sharona. She asked me lots of questions, and was fascinated by everything I was saying. Her smile—oh, it's contagious. And then—the clincher—"
He smiled toothily, looking sentimental yet deliriously happy.
"She went over to the jukebox, and—oh, God, I couldn't believe it; it was like a dream, Sharona—she played Trudy's and my song. You know—I'm sure you've heard it—it's by Garfunkel—'I Only Have Eyes For You.' And—and then she turned and just smiled at me as she stood there. She was absolutely beautiful. I actually think my jaw dropped, Sharona. It was the most amazing moment I've had in years."
Sharona couldn't help but smile at the formerly quiet man, spilling his guts to her about the date, as exhilarated as a teenager after his first date. The love he had in him—it was really amazing. So deep, and yet, so innocent and pure. She herself had never felt that kind of excitement over someone. Even on her wedding day to Trevor, she had never felt overcome with the kind of love he was feeling for Monica. And she knew for certain that Trevor had never felt that way towards her. A man who felt the way Monk did about the people he loved would never cheat or be verbally abusive.
Rain began to fall as her faraway smile turned to a scowl at the thought of Trevor. He's probably out screwing around tonight in some sleazy bar, she mused. Third night this week that I'll be sleeping alone. The only thing's that actually keeping me from returning to San Francisco is my mom—I know Benjy'd leave here in a heartbeat as well, if it weren't for his grandma.
Trevor had only been the husband that Sharona wanted him to be for the first two months after their remarriage. His good phase had ended with a case of beer he had bought, and a friend's wild bachelor party. She had watched him get plastered that evening in celebration of their two-month anniversary, hoping he'd just fall asleep afterwards. Instead, a car horn honked at midnight, whereas he stood up, mumbled something unintelligible, and stumbled out the door without any rational excuse.
Now more than a year into Trevor's bad phase, Sharona was sick and tired of everything about her husband, and regretted the decision to return to him. What I shoulda done—she thought—was move my mother out to Frisco with me and enjoy the good weather and the good company. God, why was she always coming to realizations after the fact that it was too late? Her thoughts dissipated immediately—her eyes went wide and mind blank as she gaped in horror at the deer crossing the road less than fifty feet in front of her.
She slammed on the brakes, feeling the grinding sensation of the antilock brakes kicking in, reduced by the new slickness of the road. The deer stood still in the center of the road, apparently blinded by her headlights, and she closed her eyes and set her jaw, knowing that she was going to collide with the animal.
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