Meg swung her legs off the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She leaned forward. As much as she loved this man, there were times when she could cheerfully strangle him!
The thought brought her up short. Had she just admitted to herself that she loved John Lee?
"Nothing, Meg. Please, enlighten me. What is a Ômickey'?" John asked ingenuously. He was a past master at changing the subject.
"A mickey," Meg announced, "short for a ÔMickey Fin'. A beverage into which SOMEONE has put a narcotic substance designed to render the drinker unconscious." She tossed the emphasized word to the apartment at large, hoping that John's family was within earshot. "And STOP changing the subject!"
"Inactivity," John replied, "increases weakness, it does not cure it. I am feeling fit, Meg, It was time to get out of the bed."
"Thank you, Dr. Lee, for that cogent prognostic assessment. I trust you had help, since the last time you tried it--not that long ago, I might mention--you ended up flat on your ass on the floor? You're probably delirious again, what's your family's excuse?"
"They cursed me and yelled at me, just as you are doing now. I gave them no choice. If you must be angry, be angry at me. And I am not delirious."
Meg sighed. He was impossible to argue with to any satisfying degree. Especially not when he sat there, looking devastatingly handsome and surprisingly healthy. The sling gave him a rather rakish air, and the clothing he had donned, though somewhat overstated for sitting around her apartment, hung well in all the right places.
"Okay. Okay." Meg mumbled, putting her face in her hands for a few moments, "I give up. But I reserve the right to say I told you so when you end up flat on your back and as sick as a dog again."
"Understood," John said equably, "How are you, Meg?"
He was leaning slightly forward in the chair, looking at her with such concern that she was momentarily caught off guard.
"I'm fine. I'm not the one who was shot, remember? I didn't willingly decide to take a nap in the middle of the day, either."
John looked at her intently, "Liu Shen said that you were ill from lack of food, that you went pale and seemed ready to faint. I am concerned about you."
Either Liu Shen hadn't told him about the crying jag, or he was choosing not to mention it. She wished she knew which. It was bad enough that Lee Ma and Liu Shen had witnessed it. She didn't want John to know she'd been that weak.
"No need to be, John. I'm as healthy as a horse. What with all the excitement in the last few days--wonder whose fault that was?--I forgot to eat. I do that sometimes. Go too long without eating. It catches up with me. I nibble on a little something and I'm fine. No worries."
"No wonder you've grown so thin," John said looking at her with a kind of aching empathy.
"I'll take that as all women do--as a compliment. You don't look like you've been eating regular meals yourself."
"We always seemed to be on the move, these last months. And sometimes provisions were difficult to obtain." John said quietly.
"And knowing you, you made sure your sister and mother ate their fill before you did. We're going to put some meat back on those bones, mister." Meg vowed.
John smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I bring nothing but disruption to your life. I am so sorry, Meg. I had wanted this to be very different."
Meg reached out to touch his knee, "Life is disruption, John. I'm just glad you're back and alive. I'm not sorry about how this played out."
John looked at her intently for a moment, finally leaning back in the chair, his left hand going to his right arm, as though the shift in position had caused a jolt of pain.
Meg eased off the bed, kneeling before him, reaching out to touch his right hand, "Have you tried moving it?" she asked, noting that his right hand was warm, revealing good blood flow, which was a good sign. Shoulder wounds could result in permanent damage to the complex structures of blood vessels, muscles and nerve bundles, it wrenched her heart to think of John being in any way disabled by his injury.
John grimaced, concentrating on flexing his right hand. His fingers clenched spasmodically.
Meg beamed, "That's wonderful!" Not quite the movement she'd envisioned, fine motor skills would take some time to regain, obviously. But it was heartening that he could move any part of the arm at all. He'd been lucky.
He was going to be all right, she felt it in her bones. He wasn't as well as he thought he was, she knew. But he was better, and there was hope.
Meg leaned forward. This time she took the initiative, drawing John's head down until their lips touched. She kissed him deeply.
She did love him. She knew that now.
She would worry about what to do about that later.
For all his bravado, and several attempts at walking unaided, John was still unsteady on his feet.
The toll that stubbornness was taking on his energy had Meg and the Lee women at wits end.
It took the combined efforts of the three of them to get John to sit down and relax, preparatory to the evening meal.
"I must go out," John announced by way of quiet rebellion.
"I don't know about that. You're rushing things too much. Sitting in a chair is fine, but I don't think you're ready to run any marathons." Meg commented reasonably. Lee Ma and Liu Shen said nothing, but shook their heads in frustration over his recalcitrance.
"I had made plans, before leaving China. I must tend to them before any more time has passed."
John looked at her, his dark eyes hooded.
Meg returned his gaze forthrightly, knowing an argument would be futile, if rather enjoyable. So she kept her voice equable and carefully modulated. "Is whatever you need to do something I can take care of for you?"
John gave her a small smile, "No. There are some financial matters... And other things. I must do them myself."
"Alone I suppose," Meg challenged.
"That would be preferable." John admitted.
"Well, I'll tell you right now that that isn't going to happen. If the last couple of hours haven't proved to you that you aren't ready to do anything or go anywhere by yourself, you ARE delusional. And apparently you don't trust me to help handle your affairs."
"Meg," John was exasperated and stricken by turns, "you are the one I do trust. Never doubt that. These are things that require my presence to be done."
"I hope whatever you are doing, you don't need to sign any papers--its going to be a while before your right hand can hold a pen. I know you can shoot guns with both hands--but can you write with both?" Meg kept up her battle of logic
"No," John admitted, "I still need to be present. You cannot go alone."
"And neither can you. So where does that leave us? Look John, I know how frustrated you must be feeling right now. But trust me when I say that you are in no shape to go anywhere today. And possibly not tomorrow. Maybe the day after that. You HAVE to give yourself time to recuperate. Your mother and sister and I have not gone through what we have to keep you alive just to watch you push yourself back to the point of collapse."
John sighed. "I can wait no longer than tomorrow to begin. If I rest tonight will my beautiful ladies allow me to make the attempt tomorrow?" Logic having failed him, John was now switching on his not inconsiderable charm.
Meg suppressed a smile of triumph. They had reached a compromise.
"Only if you take all three of us along." Meg countered.
"Only you. My mother and sister do not have to be plagued by the business. They should be able to relax and enjoy themselves, not run errands with me.
"Don't even go there, John. And I'm not leaving without reinforcements. When--and I say when, not if--you fall flat on your ass again because you aren't ready to be up and gallivanting around, I'm going to need someone to help me throw you back in the car and bring you home. We all go, or none of us do."
"You have a car?" John asked, eyes brightening. His next question would be to ask where she kept the keys, Meg was sure.
"Don't even think about it! Yes, I have a car. I used some of that money you sent to buy a good used one. I'm trying not to flagrantly break the law by boosting rides whenever I need to go anywhere. Zeedo's patience can only stretch so far." Meg paused, "And don't even think about trying to find out where I hide the keys and going off by yourself. You'd never find it."
John appeared to ponder her words for a moment, then nodded. "I agree. We all go. Tomorrow."
Meg watched as Chinese male pride yielded to the inevitable, "Great! Now, you're going to eat a good meal, and then it is back to bed for you."
John gave a slight grimace, then agreed.
Meg traded looks of quiet triumph with Liu Shen and Lee Ma, then they all set about preparing a meal.
John was no sooner settled down in bed than he fell asleep, his overexertion of the last few hours, catching up with him.
Meg spent several hours in discussion with his mother and sister, during which the Lee women complimented her--Liu Shen directly and Lee Ma via translation--on her masterful handling of the situation with John.
Meg took no pleasure in her victory, but accepted the compliments sincerely and steered the
conversation to a discussion of John as he had been as a child and young man. She was entranced by the picture that formed before her as she saw the man she loved through his family's eyes.
Her head buzzed with new knowledge as she prepared herself for sleep, having seen Lee Ma and Liu Shen settled down in their bed. She felt even more close to him now, knowing what his favorite food had been as a child. That he'd been a good student as a teenager and had planned to start college before the Cultural Revolution had started and he had been given the choice of reeducation deep in the countryside, or induction into the army. The beginning of his destruction, she now saw, the events leading eventually to servitude to Wei.
Meg eased herself under the covers beside John, and careful not to wake him, cuddled close, reveling once again in mere proximity to this mysterious man who had entered her life and transformed it.
Meg woke the next morning to find John up, dressed and moving around her apartment.
He seemed, when she rose, dressed and sat studying him, to be tolerating movement better and was steadier on his feet than the day before. How much of that was through sheer force of will and how much real improvement she did not know.
She would watch him carefully.
When finally everyone was up and ready to go, Meg took a deep breath and forced herself to be calmly supportive of John's wishes, at the same time attuning herself to every nuance of his physical presence and condition.
She guided John, Liu Shen and Lee Ma to the freight elevator once more, than dashed down the staircase of the building and into the street. She strode purposefully the block and a half to the parking structure she had a permanent space in, slid behind the wheel of her car and made the quick dash to back to her apartment building. John, Liu Shen and Lee Ma were just making their way to the curb when she pulled up in front of them. She hopped out of the car and joined them for the last few yards.
Meg watched John carefully, putting her arm around his waist and sticking to his side like glue. Liu Shen bookended Meg on his other side, while Lee Ma trailed behind after surrendering her place to Meg, shooting her son disapproving looks that she knew he could not see. .
Walking was a somewhat slow process, but John proved steady on his legs.
Still, when Meg eased him into the passenger seat of her four door sedan, he gave a small grunt and expelled a lungful of air.
"Let that be a lesson to you." Meg warned, clicking the seat belt around him, positioning the webbing so that it did not rub against the wounded shoulder.
Meg watched as Liu Shen and Lee Ma climbed into the car, glad that she had opted for a four door car instead of a two door. Four doors were easier to heft computers in and out of when necessary, which had been her original reason for wanting one. She could never have dreamed she'd be thankful for the reason she was.
Meg could not know that their progress was being watched by interested eyes, stationed atop a nearby building.
She pulled the car onto the street and into traffic before she spoke again.
"I'm making a stop at the drugstore to get proper sling for your arm--it is just up here a ways. Where do we head after that?"
John rattled off an address noted for its upscale condominiums. Meg's eyebrows rose.
"I thought you had financial business? We aren't going to a bank?" she asked.
"Later," John explained. "There is something I must pick up first."
Meg mulled over that information for a moment, then pulled the car over to the curb in front of the drug store, the same one she'd gotten medical supplies from just the day before.
She'd made a mental note to pick up more dressing material. She'd insisted, as part of conditions of his leaving her apartment, that John allow her to change his dressings again and swallow a dose of antibiotics and ibuprofen. She'd been relieved to note that the wound was draining properly, the infection appearing to be well on its way to abating, and that his exertions had not resulted in any new bleeding.
Meg was in and out of the store in less than ten minutes. She returned to the car, which was parked with the passenger side to the curb, and took the few minutes necessary to remove the bath towel and place the newly purchased sling to cradle John's wounded arm. She also used the activity as an opportunity to study him closely, to make sure that he was holding up well under the increased activity.
So far so good.
She didn't see the nondescript car which pulled away from the curb as she did and followed at
a discreet distance.
end of chapter seven
The thought brought her up short. Had she just admitted to herself that she loved John Lee?
"Nothing, Meg. Please, enlighten me. What is a Ômickey'?" John asked ingenuously. He was a past master at changing the subject.
"A mickey," Meg announced, "short for a ÔMickey Fin'. A beverage into which SOMEONE has put a narcotic substance designed to render the drinker unconscious." She tossed the emphasized word to the apartment at large, hoping that John's family was within earshot. "And STOP changing the subject!"
"Inactivity," John replied, "increases weakness, it does not cure it. I am feeling fit, Meg, It was time to get out of the bed."
"Thank you, Dr. Lee, for that cogent prognostic assessment. I trust you had help, since the last time you tried it--not that long ago, I might mention--you ended up flat on your ass on the floor? You're probably delirious again, what's your family's excuse?"
"They cursed me and yelled at me, just as you are doing now. I gave them no choice. If you must be angry, be angry at me. And I am not delirious."
Meg sighed. He was impossible to argue with to any satisfying degree. Especially not when he sat there, looking devastatingly handsome and surprisingly healthy. The sling gave him a rather rakish air, and the clothing he had donned, though somewhat overstated for sitting around her apartment, hung well in all the right places.
"Okay. Okay." Meg mumbled, putting her face in her hands for a few moments, "I give up. But I reserve the right to say I told you so when you end up flat on your back and as sick as a dog again."
"Understood," John said equably, "How are you, Meg?"
He was leaning slightly forward in the chair, looking at her with such concern that she was momentarily caught off guard.
"I'm fine. I'm not the one who was shot, remember? I didn't willingly decide to take a nap in the middle of the day, either."
John looked at her intently, "Liu Shen said that you were ill from lack of food, that you went pale and seemed ready to faint. I am concerned about you."
Either Liu Shen hadn't told him about the crying jag, or he was choosing not to mention it. She wished she knew which. It was bad enough that Lee Ma and Liu Shen had witnessed it. She didn't want John to know she'd been that weak.
"No need to be, John. I'm as healthy as a horse. What with all the excitement in the last few days--wonder whose fault that was?--I forgot to eat. I do that sometimes. Go too long without eating. It catches up with me. I nibble on a little something and I'm fine. No worries."
"No wonder you've grown so thin," John said looking at her with a kind of aching empathy.
"I'll take that as all women do--as a compliment. You don't look like you've been eating regular meals yourself."
"We always seemed to be on the move, these last months. And sometimes provisions were difficult to obtain." John said quietly.
"And knowing you, you made sure your sister and mother ate their fill before you did. We're going to put some meat back on those bones, mister." Meg vowed.
John smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I bring nothing but disruption to your life. I am so sorry, Meg. I had wanted this to be very different."
Meg reached out to touch his knee, "Life is disruption, John. I'm just glad you're back and alive. I'm not sorry about how this played out."
John looked at her intently for a moment, finally leaning back in the chair, his left hand going to his right arm, as though the shift in position had caused a jolt of pain.
Meg eased off the bed, kneeling before him, reaching out to touch his right hand, "Have you tried moving it?" she asked, noting that his right hand was warm, revealing good blood flow, which was a good sign. Shoulder wounds could result in permanent damage to the complex structures of blood vessels, muscles and nerve bundles, it wrenched her heart to think of John being in any way disabled by his injury.
John grimaced, concentrating on flexing his right hand. His fingers clenched spasmodically.
Meg beamed, "That's wonderful!" Not quite the movement she'd envisioned, fine motor skills would take some time to regain, obviously. But it was heartening that he could move any part of the arm at all. He'd been lucky.
He was going to be all right, she felt it in her bones. He wasn't as well as he thought he was, she knew. But he was better, and there was hope.
Meg leaned forward. This time she took the initiative, drawing John's head down until their lips touched. She kissed him deeply.
She did love him. She knew that now.
She would worry about what to do about that later.
For all his bravado, and several attempts at walking unaided, John was still unsteady on his feet.
The toll that stubbornness was taking on his energy had Meg and the Lee women at wits end.
It took the combined efforts of the three of them to get John to sit down and relax, preparatory to the evening meal.
"I must go out," John announced by way of quiet rebellion.
"I don't know about that. You're rushing things too much. Sitting in a chair is fine, but I don't think you're ready to run any marathons." Meg commented reasonably. Lee Ma and Liu Shen said nothing, but shook their heads in frustration over his recalcitrance.
"I had made plans, before leaving China. I must tend to them before any more time has passed."
John looked at her, his dark eyes hooded.
Meg returned his gaze forthrightly, knowing an argument would be futile, if rather enjoyable. So she kept her voice equable and carefully modulated. "Is whatever you need to do something I can take care of for you?"
John gave her a small smile, "No. There are some financial matters... And other things. I must do them myself."
"Alone I suppose," Meg challenged.
"That would be preferable." John admitted.
"Well, I'll tell you right now that that isn't going to happen. If the last couple of hours haven't proved to you that you aren't ready to do anything or go anywhere by yourself, you ARE delusional. And apparently you don't trust me to help handle your affairs."
"Meg," John was exasperated and stricken by turns, "you are the one I do trust. Never doubt that. These are things that require my presence to be done."
"I hope whatever you are doing, you don't need to sign any papers--its going to be a while before your right hand can hold a pen. I know you can shoot guns with both hands--but can you write with both?" Meg kept up her battle of logic
"No," John admitted, "I still need to be present. You cannot go alone."
"And neither can you. So where does that leave us? Look John, I know how frustrated you must be feeling right now. But trust me when I say that you are in no shape to go anywhere today. And possibly not tomorrow. Maybe the day after that. You HAVE to give yourself time to recuperate. Your mother and sister and I have not gone through what we have to keep you alive just to watch you push yourself back to the point of collapse."
John sighed. "I can wait no longer than tomorrow to begin. If I rest tonight will my beautiful ladies allow me to make the attempt tomorrow?" Logic having failed him, John was now switching on his not inconsiderable charm.
Meg suppressed a smile of triumph. They had reached a compromise.
"Only if you take all three of us along." Meg countered.
"Only you. My mother and sister do not have to be plagued by the business. They should be able to relax and enjoy themselves, not run errands with me.
"Don't even go there, John. And I'm not leaving without reinforcements. When--and I say when, not if--you fall flat on your ass again because you aren't ready to be up and gallivanting around, I'm going to need someone to help me throw you back in the car and bring you home. We all go, or none of us do."
"You have a car?" John asked, eyes brightening. His next question would be to ask where she kept the keys, Meg was sure.
"Don't even think about it! Yes, I have a car. I used some of that money you sent to buy a good used one. I'm trying not to flagrantly break the law by boosting rides whenever I need to go anywhere. Zeedo's patience can only stretch so far." Meg paused, "And don't even think about trying to find out where I hide the keys and going off by yourself. You'd never find it."
John appeared to ponder her words for a moment, then nodded. "I agree. We all go. Tomorrow."
Meg watched as Chinese male pride yielded to the inevitable, "Great! Now, you're going to eat a good meal, and then it is back to bed for you."
John gave a slight grimace, then agreed.
Meg traded looks of quiet triumph with Liu Shen and Lee Ma, then they all set about preparing a meal.
John was no sooner settled down in bed than he fell asleep, his overexertion of the last few hours, catching up with him.
Meg spent several hours in discussion with his mother and sister, during which the Lee women complimented her--Liu Shen directly and Lee Ma via translation--on her masterful handling of the situation with John.
Meg took no pleasure in her victory, but accepted the compliments sincerely and steered the
conversation to a discussion of John as he had been as a child and young man. She was entranced by the picture that formed before her as she saw the man she loved through his family's eyes.
Her head buzzed with new knowledge as she prepared herself for sleep, having seen Lee Ma and Liu Shen settled down in their bed. She felt even more close to him now, knowing what his favorite food had been as a child. That he'd been a good student as a teenager and had planned to start college before the Cultural Revolution had started and he had been given the choice of reeducation deep in the countryside, or induction into the army. The beginning of his destruction, she now saw, the events leading eventually to servitude to Wei.
Meg eased herself under the covers beside John, and careful not to wake him, cuddled close, reveling once again in mere proximity to this mysterious man who had entered her life and transformed it.
Meg woke the next morning to find John up, dressed and moving around her apartment.
He seemed, when she rose, dressed and sat studying him, to be tolerating movement better and was steadier on his feet than the day before. How much of that was through sheer force of will and how much real improvement she did not know.
She would watch him carefully.
When finally everyone was up and ready to go, Meg took a deep breath and forced herself to be calmly supportive of John's wishes, at the same time attuning herself to every nuance of his physical presence and condition.
She guided John, Liu Shen and Lee Ma to the freight elevator once more, than dashed down the staircase of the building and into the street. She strode purposefully the block and a half to the parking structure she had a permanent space in, slid behind the wheel of her car and made the quick dash to back to her apartment building. John, Liu Shen and Lee Ma were just making their way to the curb when she pulled up in front of them. She hopped out of the car and joined them for the last few yards.
Meg watched John carefully, putting her arm around his waist and sticking to his side like glue. Liu Shen bookended Meg on his other side, while Lee Ma trailed behind after surrendering her place to Meg, shooting her son disapproving looks that she knew he could not see. .
Walking was a somewhat slow process, but John proved steady on his legs.
Still, when Meg eased him into the passenger seat of her four door sedan, he gave a small grunt and expelled a lungful of air.
"Let that be a lesson to you." Meg warned, clicking the seat belt around him, positioning the webbing so that it did not rub against the wounded shoulder.
Meg watched as Liu Shen and Lee Ma climbed into the car, glad that she had opted for a four door car instead of a two door. Four doors were easier to heft computers in and out of when necessary, which had been her original reason for wanting one. She could never have dreamed she'd be thankful for the reason she was.
Meg could not know that their progress was being watched by interested eyes, stationed atop a nearby building.
She pulled the car onto the street and into traffic before she spoke again.
"I'm making a stop at the drugstore to get proper sling for your arm--it is just up here a ways. Where do we head after that?"
John rattled off an address noted for its upscale condominiums. Meg's eyebrows rose.
"I thought you had financial business? We aren't going to a bank?" she asked.
"Later," John explained. "There is something I must pick up first."
Meg mulled over that information for a moment, then pulled the car over to the curb in front of the drug store, the same one she'd gotten medical supplies from just the day before.
She'd made a mental note to pick up more dressing material. She'd insisted, as part of conditions of his leaving her apartment, that John allow her to change his dressings again and swallow a dose of antibiotics and ibuprofen. She'd been relieved to note that the wound was draining properly, the infection appearing to be well on its way to abating, and that his exertions had not resulted in any new bleeding.
Meg was in and out of the store in less than ten minutes. She returned to the car, which was parked with the passenger side to the curb, and took the few minutes necessary to remove the bath towel and place the newly purchased sling to cradle John's wounded arm. She also used the activity as an opportunity to study him closely, to make sure that he was holding up well under the increased activity.
So far so good.
She didn't see the nondescript car which pulled away from the curb as she did and followed at
a discreet distance.
end of chapter seven