Chapter 11
If Snow Bird and Cloud Dancing hadn't openly supported Sully, Michaela would have refused his offer. But it had been too late for that anyway. When Michaela and Wolf had entered Sully's room that day, no one had been there. She'd heard strange noises from the kitchen though and went straight there.
Stunned by the sight that greeted her, she hadn't been able to say anything, yet Sully had spotted her.
"Ya ever lived in a shared apartment?" he'd asked.
"Yes, with my friend Miriam," she'd replied baffled, still not putting two and two together.
Sully, standing on one leg, supporting himself on his crutches, watched Cloud Dancing take down the last board of a shelf that had been built into a doorframe.
"What d'ya think about livin' in a shared house? Where the kitchen could be a room for meetin' others whenever ya feel like it? And ya don't have to clean your coffee cup in the bathroom and can cook somethin' healthy?"
"I can't cook," had been her automatic reply when she'd suddenly realized what all the commotion meant. She had seen the door downstairs on her side of the apartment but had never connected it with the shelf in Sully's kitchen.
"Sully," she tried to stop him, "We agreed that the kitchen is yours. I can't…"
Sully shrugged it off, "I changed my mind."
"Sully…" Michaela attempted again yet this time Snow Bird chimed in.
"Dr. Mike, don't you think it would be nice to sit at a kitchen table and drink your cup of coffee with a friend?" she asked. "Or eat your supper from a plate instead from the plastic or foil package?"
Recognizing the disapproval of her eating habits, Michaela blushed in embarrassment, at a loss for words.
Sully had taken this as an agreement on her part and now, two weeks later, Michaela had to admit that her friends had been right. Not only had she begun taking more time to eat but she acknowledged that their arrangement did Sully some good, too.
Although his foot was still far from being healed, the swelling was almost gone so he could move around better. As it turned out, he loved to cook. Realizing that it made him feel better when he could return the favors she did him, she had eventually accepted his offer to eat together when her shifts allowed it. However, there was still something that concerned her: Sully had only one private room left. She was determined to balance the situation again.
They had just finished supper, but Michaela didn't immediately start clearing the table as usual. Of course Sully didn't complain. He could tell that there was something on her mind yet he stayed silent, afraid of startling her away from talking if he prompted her. However, the question she posed was the last one he'd expected.
The familiar red was already coloring her cheeks when she asked, "Would you like to join me in watching a documentary on the Discovery Channel?"
Michaela had no idea what kind of show he might like; a report seemed to be the best choice so he wouldn't decline the invitation. She wanted to return his kindness, show him that he was as welcome in her downstairs room as she was in his kitchen.
Yet to Sully it didn't matter which TV program she suggested; he would have agreed if she had invited him to watch Sesame Street. Playing down his excitement, he simply said, "Sure."
Michaela suppressed a sigh of relief as she rose from her chair, glad that this had gone so easily.
"I'll need only a few minutes to finish up here. If you want, you could go turn on the TV."
Sully didn't have to be asked twice. He wasn't crazy about TV and hadn't actually missed it since he lived alone yet that didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy watching a show now and then. And he took Michaela's offer for what it was: as sign of growing friendship, an attempt to spend more time together. He liked this development; there was nothing wrong with gaining a friend.
The first thing he noticed as he entered the room was the chill in the air. Next he spotted a burgundy woollen blanket on the large beige leather sofa, one of the few items of furniture that Michaela had bought. The back of the couch stood against one of the shelves that were used as a partition, whilst one arm leaned on the wooden wall. The large flat TV, standing on a low table, was placed across from it; this way Michaela had created an intimate room inside of the big one. This was the only area, apart from the king-sized desk in front of the window, she seemed to use downstairs. For a moment, Sully allowed himself to remember the purpose this room had been created for: it was supposed to be the one filled with life, where the family would gather...
He was pulled out of his reminiscence when a casement of the window next to the front door was opened from outside. Before he could get startled, Wolf jumped down on the floor. For a moment, the dog stared at his master as if he'd never seen him before, his presence in this room feeling so alien to the animal. Yet Wolf quickly settled to the new fact and strolled towards the sofa. Jumping onto the empty part of the couch, he looked expectantly at Sully as if asking whether he would join him.
Sully chuckled in spite of himself. He couldn't believe that his dog behaved as if he'd lived here all his life. But at least Sully knew now why it was so cold. He had to find another way for Wolf to enter the room.
Their first joint TV evening was a short one, at least for Michaela. For some reason she was more relaxed than she'd been in a long time. She fell asleep not long after she'd insisted on sharing her blanket with Sully and made herself comfortable in her corner of the sofa. Sully, leaning on the arm on the other side, debated with himself whether to wake her or not. She looked so peaceful, one hand tucked under her cheek, just like the other day. After she had sunk into an almost lying position, her other hand found its way to Wolf's back, burying itself in the thick fur whilst the dog's head rested on her blanket-covered lap. His behind was directed at his master, and Sully had to grin about that. He should feel like an outsider, he thought, but he didn't. It was rather the contrary; her allowing him to see her so privately indicated that she'd included him into her life. He savored this knowledge, more determined than ever to be a good friend to her.
He sat next to her, watching her sleep rather than what was going on on the TV for two hours before he gently woke her, suggesting that she should go to bed.
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When Michaela returned from a double shift at the hospital a day and a half later, something looked different about her entrance. She only realized what it was when Wolf suddenly appeared from the inside as if he could walk through wood: Sully had installed a dog door. Obviously Wolf was having fun using it for he vanished through it again, only to show up a second later.
"I hope ya don't mind that we were in your room today, but Wolf wanted to show ya that he doesn't need the window anymore."
Michaela hadn't seen Sully leaning behind the post on the porch and jumped at his voice.
"Sully," she breathed, palm on her chest, "You startled me."
"Sorry," he grinned sheepishly, "Didn't mean to." After a short hesitation he added, "Uhm, could I talk to you? I'd like to…"
"Of course," Michaela assured as she climbed up the steps, knowing exactly what he had on his mind. "Come on in with me. I'll join you in a minute."
Without waiting for his response, certain he would follow her, she rushed inside and up the stairs. After changing and a short visit to her bathroom, she was back.
Sully had had enough time to prepare himself for the right way to approach the issue and thought it best to confront her politely but determinedly, showing that his mind was set. "I think I can go back to work," he said matter-of-factly as soon as she turned around the corner.
"You do?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, "Are you ready to hear your doctor's opinion?"
Sully let out a long breath, but he wasn't willing to give up yet. "The swelling is down," he informed her, sounding stubborn now.
"Well," Michaela replied undeterred yet with an amused sparkle in her eyes, "Let's see about that."
Still speaking, she gestured for him to sit down on the sofa whilst she carried over a chair so he could lay his foot onto it. As she unwrapped the bandage, she suppressed a smile, realizing that once again he had checked for himself whether his ankle was improving. She, however, was positive that it still hurt when he tried to stand on it.
Carefully but with a practiced touch, she probed for any lingering swellings around the ankle but found none. Satisfied, she slowly moved the foot up and down, from side to side. Without looking at Sully's face she knew that he was grimacing, but she didn't comment on that. Eventually, she gave her diagnosis.
"The swelling is down, alright, but that doesn't mean that the ankle is healed. I brought you an elastic bandage which is easier to handle. You can take it off at night but have to wear it all day."
Still speaking, she fetched her medical bag she had left on her desk and pulled out a blue item which looked like a thick, long sock without toes and the heel part.
"Here," she held it out to him, and while he tentatively pulled it over his foot, Michaela continued, "Actually, physical therapy would be the next step."
As Sully abruptly halted in his movements, she looked at his face, wondering what was stopping him. Yet seeing his embarrassed expression, she silently scolded herself. She knew how he had lived until now and should have realized that he didn't have insurance. At the hospital, no one had dared to ask him since she had treated him without the formalities that normally preceded any patient's contact with a doctor.
Attempting to cover the situation, Michaela went on, "I will show you some exercises that will strengthen the muscles and ligaments plus how to massage your foot. Would that be alright with you?"
Sully knew exactly what she was doing. Although once again his pride protested, he knew he had no choice unless he didn't care whether his ankle healed properly. For some moments, their gazes locked. Michaela failed in her attempt to maintain her doctor attitude, and both were aware of it. Actually it was the caring woman before him who made Sully swallow his pride. He simply wasn't able to disappoint her, not after all she had done for him.
"Sure," he at last agreed, "But first we should have dinner."
Although dog-tired, Michaela nodded, "I'm famished," she admitted.
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In the morning, Sully tried to copy the way Michaela had massaged his foot. He still marveled at her ability to relax the painfully strained muscles with a mere movements of her rather delicate looking fingers. It seemed to be so easy yet trying it himself, he didn't gain the desired effect. Still debating with himself whether it was appropriate to ask her to show him again or whether that could be construed as something else, he suddenly noticed how late it was.
Knowing these were Michaela's only two free days, he assumed she was simply sleeping in, yet something wasn't right. As little as he knew about her, this much he was sure of: she never missed an appointment even if it was only for breakfast.
Yet he still hesitated, sure that Wolf would have alerted him if something was wrong. His companion hadn't hesitated to make certain that Michaela came straight to him after his fall from the ladder. Yet the uneasy feeling in his gut wouldn't dissipate, and thus he ventured from the kitchen to her room downstairs. Standing in its center he carefully listened until the quiet was suddenly disturbed by the clicking of the dog door. Wolf suddenly stood before him, whining softly.
Sully didn't think twice and hurried up the stairs, repeatedly calling, "Dr. Mike? Dr. Mike!"
For some reason he still kept his tone low though, and when he saw her lying on her side in her bed, he was glad he hadn't startled her from her sleep. She barely stirred, never acknowledging his presence, and Sully silently backed out of the room.
Wolf, however, strolled directly to her but didn't jump onto the cover as usual. He stopped at the head end instead, carefully laying his face onto the pillow right before hers.
"Oh Wolf," Michaela breathed, barely opening her eyes. She weakly pulled her arm out from beneath the quilt so as to pat the dog's neck. "You shouldn't be here."
Yet Wolf, understanding the meaning of her tone, refused to leave her side, nuzzling her face.
Only when he saw her strained smile, Sully stepped closer, too. He had watched from the threshold till now, not knowing whether to call Wolf back because he feared rousing her fully from sleep. At last standing close enough, he saw that Michaela's brow and upper lip were covered with tiny pearls of sweat. Dropping all caution, he went down on his knees to be on eye level with her.
"You're sick!" he exclaimed, sounding reproachful. "Why didn't ya tell me? Do ya want me to call a doc?"
Finally opening her eyes, Michaela's gaze fell directly on Sully's anxious face, only inches away from hers.
"I am a doctor," she felt obliged to remind him, "I know what's wrong."
"So what is it? Tell me what to do!" Sully demanded yet didn't get the desired information.
"It's nothing," Michaela insisted, already incredibly tired from having to talk so much, her next order merely a whisper, "You must look after yourself."
Sully stared at her in disbelief. He could tell that it was taking every ounce of her energy to get the words out distinctly but she still managed to be stubborn.
Well, he was determined himself.
"If ya don't tell me," he made clear that he wouldn't give in, "I'll call either the hospital or nine-one-one."
"No!" was her immediate reaction and she actually became more alert, "It's just a virus."
Seeing that he hadn't budged but was still staring at her, she tried to make light of the situation.
"Did you never watch Seinfeld? It's that twenty-four hour virus. It will pass. I don't need help, really."
Sully, however, didn't buy it. He recognized something else: Michaela was a woman who desperately tried to appear strong and under control at any cost, no matter what the situation was. A wave of sympathy softened his voice as he asked, "Why don't ya quit tryin' so hard?"
Michaela's first reaction was to protest but she recognized in the depth of Sully's eyes that he saw right through her. She was too exhausted to fight further and thus she simply conceded, "Old habit."
A smile flew over his face, hearing her confession. Gently, he advised, "Give it up."
Michaela relaxed against the pillow, closing her eyes again as she asked, "Would you make me a tea, please? And get my medical bag? I should take something."
She had barely finished voicing her request when she dropped back off to sleep again.
Sully grinned at Wolf who looked at him expectantly and told him, "Now it's our turn; we'll take care of her."
Straightening to his feet again, Sully looked down at her small frame. She had turned on her back, her face relaxed in slumber. And then he just couldn't help it: although he knew that there was no one else in the house, he glanced at the door before he bent down again, placing his lips against her feverish brow. Lingering there for a moment he vowed to be there for her.