Chapter 10
The next day was full of activities, at least for the people who formed Sully's helping brigade. Whilst Charlotte and Catherine prepared the apartment for his arrival the next day, Michaela took care of organizing things. She had changed shifts so she wouldn't have to work during the day but at night. This way she could also accompany Sully when he'd leave the hospital in the morning and help him get familiar with his new surrounding. Apart from that, she would spend the first night with him at this strange place, and she was determined to have her way, no matter how hard Sully would fight it. And that he would do so she was sure of. Michaela was careful though to not make him angry again by doing anything over his head and discussed all the decision to make with him.
Thanks to Charlotte's connections they already had the key to the apartment, but the agency who rented it out insisted on having the contract signed as soon as possible, which meant sometime today. Since Sully wasn't able to go there, Michaela volunteered to do so. Yet seeing the vein at his temple begin to throb as a reaction to her suggestion, she quickly assured that of course he would be the one who paid the rent.
Sully, however, felt as if Michaela mocked him every time she asked for his permission before she did anything. She had made a list of all the tasks that needed to be performed and thoroughly went through it, starting with whom he wanted to do his washing and not ending with which physiotherapist he'd like to see. Actually, this topic became another subject of an argument. It wasn't clear yet whether any insurance would pay for it, and he wasn't willing to accept any financial support from Michaela.
"But you will need special exercises; not only to keep your back muscles strong but also those of your legs. Plus, the blood circulation has to be stimulated, because it will help you get back your mobility faster," Michaela explained, having trouble to keep her voice even because it slowly became difficult for her to stay patient with Sully's constant objections. Straightening from her place on the edge of his bed, she pulled back the cover from his legs in order to demonstrate what she meant.
Sully wore a pair of shorty pajamas, and Michaela thought nothing of it when she lifted one of his bare legs so as to bend it in and out at the knee. Not noticing Sully's growing discomfort, she continued with the movements before she laid the leg down and started massaging it. Although Sully couldn't feel anything, he feared his allowing her those touches might encourage her to become even more intimate. Then she might find out that there was more wrong with him than she already knew, and he simply wouldn't be able to bear that.
That was why he shifted, grasping the edge of the cover and roughly pulled at it, concealing his body from her eyes again. "If ya don't mind, I just wanna be by myself right now," he said, voice strained, expression petulant.
Sighing, Michaela gave in to his wish and rose to her feet. "I have to run some errands anyway," she conceded, turning towards the door.
Yet Sully knew her well enough to interpret her not fighting his wish and demanded, "And don't be feelin' sorry for me."
Stopping in her tracks, Michaela turned to face him again when she retorted, "I'll make you a deal. I won't feel sorry for you as long as you stop feeling sorry for yourself."
Dumbfounded, Sully watched her pivoting and leaving the room. Did she really think it was pity he felt for himself? She couldn't be more wrong; it was pure disgust. All that was left of him was the pathetic excuse for a man who couldn't even organize his own life; he needed three women and a child to do it for him. As this realization hit him, he decided to send them all away once he was settled down at his new place. He wasn't the first one who landed in a wheelchair and wouldn't be the last one either. He would manage on his own.
xxx
No one complied with Sully's wish to be left alone. Charlotte called it nonsense when he first thanked and then told her that he would take care of himself now; Brian burst into tears, thinking he had done something wrong and angered his hero, and Catherine looked at him with such a tortured expression that he instantly felt guilty again. In the end he grudgingly gave in to their reasoning when they told him that they all felt far away from having made up to him for what he'd done for Brian; that they'd simply feel better when they were allowed to continue helping.
He wouldn't yield to Michaela though. She didn't owe him anything; he was in her debt. She had given him hope for having a life again; and she shouldn't suffer only because he wasn't able to lead it.
Michaela had carefully watched Sully's every reaction from the morning on. She had not only recognized his embarrassment when the driver of the private ambulance lifted him into the vehicle because he couldn't get in there under his own steam, she also hadn't missed his shocked expression when he first entered the apartment. His, over the day growing, quietness worried her, and she was alarmed after Charlotte took her aside when she returned from home with a load of things from Sully's room. "I fear his depression gets worse," her friend had said, "he tried to convince us that he doesn't need help from anyone anymore. Fortunately we were able to make him accept our presence for a bit longer."
Michaela had nodded in understanding and knew it was only a matter of time until he would try to get rid of her as well. She didn't have to wait long once the others had said their goodbye in the early evening.
Sully, sitting in the simple wheelchair he had chosen, knew it was now or never when Michaela began preparing her place for the night. She had brought a foam mattress to sleep on and was looking around in the bedroom where to spread it out when he eventually forced himself to say the words he'd never thought he would use towards to her, "I want ya to leave."
The severe tone the words were spoken with made Michaela's heart stop for a moment. Letting the mattress drop onto the floor, she turned in order to face him. Considering him for a moment, she slightly tilted her head. "You mean for good," she realized. It wasn't a question but a statement.
Sully could barely breathe so much hurt it to let her go, but in his opinion he had no choice, "It's better for you."
These, however, wasexactly the wrong argument for him to use, and Michaela instantly reacted to it, her temper rising, "Thank you very much for your concern, but I don't need it. I've had that before, as you know very well. I am able to decide by myself what is good for me and what not."
Recognizing his mistake, after all he knew her history with David who had seen and treated her as if she was a piece of his property without her own will, he quickly changed his strategy, "Fine, then it's better for me."
Crossing her arms before her chest, Michaela held their gazes locked as she challenged him, "How's that?"
"I don't wanna be treated like a patient for the rest of my life." This argument came easily to him because he had used it before, he only couldn't recall when. But that wasn't important right now, he needed to strike while the iron was hot, seeing on Michaela's face that he had made an impression. "I know you can't help it 'cause you are a doc," he quickly added, "You'll always watch me, tryin' to find out if somethin' is wrong. I couldn't cough without you thinkin' I'm seriously sick, and that's just too much. All I want is that ya just leave me alone."
Speaking the last words, he shifted his wheelchair in order to look out of the window, and when he heard her move away from him he felt both, relief and hurt. The former because she was safe from him now and the latter because it had been surprisingly easy to persuade her to go.
Yet he waited in vain for the sound of her steps moving towards the entrance although he heard the shuffle of her feet on the ceramic floor tiles. Turning so as to see what she was doing he saw her get down on her knees, fidgeting with her mattress and a sheet, but not to pack anything up.
Feeling his astonished gaze, Michaela glanced at him, saying dryly, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that we don't always get what we want?"
It wasn't easy for her to appear as unaffected as she looked. Her emotions were in uproar, not because he wanted her to leave him; she had been prepared for that. It was because she could tell that he had expected she would actually do so.
Yet then she remembered Sam's words and silently scolded herself. Sully wasn't himself right now and might not be for a while. She needed to be strong for them both. So as to calm down a bit more she stroked Wolf who was sitting next to her, curiously watching what she was doing with the long, comfortable looking thing on the floor. If he was lucky, it was something new to play with; he was terribly bored.
However, before Michaela at last straightened, she murmured into his ear, "I could use your help with Sully; we need to work together here. I'm counting on you."
As if he had understood her words, Wolf followed Michaela as she neared his master. Guessing the direction she would take when she pushed on the strange rolling chair, he jumped onto the bed that stood with its head against the wall across from the door. In the end, Michaela and he sat on the edge of the bed, facing his master.
"Sully, listen to me," Michaela said, bending forward, gripping the armrests of the wheelchair so he had no choice but look at her, "I know that this is extremely difficult for you; it would be for anyone in your situation. But that's only temporary; it will pass. There is no need for you to protect me from anything. There is no question that I'll stay by your side, no matter what will happen."
Yet Sully wasn't ready to accept that. Stubbornly he insisted, "There's no need to ruin your life, too."
Exhaling sharply, Michaela straightened her back. Stay calm, she told herself, stay calm. Out loud she asked, "Would you have sent Abigail away, too?"
Momentarily stunned, Sully just stared at her. Actually, he had thought of his late wife quite a lot today. When he had first seen the building he would live in from now on, he had been speechless for it was looking exactly the way Abby had imagined their home: a semi-detached house, for she always wanted neighbors, with red brick walls and two stories. He would live downstairs, and once inside he found French doors that opened to a patio, just like Abigail had wished it should be. Even the floor was tiled like she'd wanted it.
"Would you?" Michaela repeated, still waiting for his reply. Snapping out of his thoughts he met her gaze. Although he wanted her to leave him, he didn't want to hurt her, but he had to be honest. After contemplating how to say it diplomatically, he at last retorted, "That'd have been different. We were married."
Not taking offence by this answer, Michaela realized she had asked the wrong question. Thus she went back the approach she'd already taken to the problem once. "Would you agree if I asked you to leave me if the situation were the other way around?"
With that she had him, and he knew it. So did she.
"Sully," she breathed, cradling his face in her hands, "we just have to be patient."
When he nodded, she kissed him softly. As she bent back, searching his eyes, she thought this might be a good time for telling him what was on her mind. "I just wish you would agree to see Dr. Lindsay. She could…"
Yet with the mentioning of the psychiatrist's name the moment of intimacy was gone, and Sully roughly moved with his wheelchair away from her. "There's nothin' wrong with my head. It's my back that ain't workin'." And something else, he thought, which he didn't want for Michaela to find out. And of course for no one else.
xxx
Although the back yard was fenced in and they could allow Wolf to go out there on his own, this wasn't enough room for the Malamute to move as much as he needed. That was why Michaela took him for a walk whilst Sully insisted on preparing supper on that first evening of his new life.
He hadn't been alone since he left the hospital in the morning, and thus Sully took the opportunity to get more familiar with his surrounding without people watching him. Only by looking more closely did the differences to a usual apartment become obvious. Everything was build wide enough for a wheelchair to get through without trouble. There were no door sills either; the entire floor was one even, tiled area. The bathroom left to the entrance looked a lot like the one at the hospital, only that a bathtub with something akin a little lift for him to get into it, was added. The second door in the small but still comfortable hall across from the entrance led to the main room which had the kitchen unit beneath the windows towards the street. Opposite, a couch with a table and two chairs created the atmosphere of a living room that was heightened by the large window and French window behind. Nothing was put in the way between the door from the hallway to the one across that led to the bedroom, which was still open.
Seeing Michaela's mattress lying on the floor at the right side of his bed, Sully sighed. How could he allow her to spend the night on this makeshift spot while he would rest comfortably? She would never agree with them changing places, and he couldn't invite her to sleep with him either. The bed was too small. There was only one solution how he could help her to get the sleep she needed: he had to show her tonight that he was capable of leading his life without her help. The first step was to set the table and make supper.
Wolf loved to be outside in all weathers, and he didn't mind that it was raining. The icy wind that blew into their faces didn't bother him either, and Michaela wished she could just put on a fur like her four-legged friend. She had to fight with an umbrella instead and gave up on it already a few minutes after she and Wolf left the house. That was why she was drenched once they returned. Not wanting to catch a cold she took a hot shower before she joined Sully at the table, wearing her pajamas already. Every time she looked up from her food, she saw him watching her, and she wondered whether he could decipher her thoughts since the blush never left her cheeks all through the meal. She wished he would caress her murmuring loving words, that she could feel his body against hers, skin to skin. Alone thinking about it made her feel funny inside. She tried, however, to distract herself, knowing she was selfish. Sully wore a waist brace, couldn't move his legs and she was thinking about intimacy. In addition he was in pain, although he didn't say one word. He needed his bed for himself so he could lay comfortably. When she met his gaze the next time, her expression was slightly embarrassed yet Sully didn't seem to notice her discomfort.
As far as Sully was concerned, he was rather worried. He was sure that Michaela was warm again but incredibly tired as well. He had once witnessed one of her fever attacks that followed her demanding too much from her small body. This time he wouldn't be able to help as he had the last time. He needed to make her rest. As she looked at him again, he smiled, knowing it would make it harder for her to resist his suggestion.
"How 'bout we turn in right away?" he asked. Seeing her eyes sweep over the dishes on the table, he prevented her protest, "I'll put them into the dishwasher, you go and lay down. I'll join ya in the bedroom in a minute."
As he did so, Michaela was already sound asleep on her mattress. If he had been able to do so, he would have lowered himself next to her, yet his stupid legs wouldn't support him. Thus he had no other choice but get himself onto his bed. After he'd managed this for him still difficult task, he rolled on his side, watching her sleep in the dim light of the streetlamps that seeped through the window.