Helping Hand
Chapter 8
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Bosco woke to a sound he didn't recognize at first. He sat up quickly, trying to figure out where he was. The immediate soreness of his neck and back reminded him that he was on his own couch, the test pattern on the television screen telling him that the network station had gone off the air for the night. He let out a groan in honor of his aches and pains and listened again to the strange sound that had woken him up. It came from down the hallway of his apartment.
He stood up and started down the hall, remembering that Charlie was there. He noticed the light spilling out from under the bathroom door and as he approached he recognized the sound - the sound of someone getting sick. "Chuckie?" Bosco called, lightly rapping on the bathroom door. He was rewarded with only a slight groan from Charlie as another round of vomiting started.
Bosco reached behind him and grabbed a towel and washcloth from the linen closet in the hallway. He slowly turned the knob on the door, "I'm comin' in, okay?" he said as he pushed the door open. He found Charlie kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, sweat making the hair cling to his forehead and around his face. Bosco turned on the faucet and ran the washcloth under the cool water as Charlie seemed to finish this round. He handed him the cloth and sat down on the edge of the tub, the towel hanging from his hands.
"You okay?" Bosco asked him. "Headache, dizziness, blurred vision?" he asked, checking for any of the symptoms that the doctor had warned him about that would indicate a concussion or more serious head injury from the fight he was in. Charlie shook his head as he wiped down his face and neck with the cool cloth, catching his breath.
"No, it's just my stomach," he said, sitting back, the bathroom wall against his back. "And you were right, I hurt all over," he admitted. Bosco stifled a chuckle. They both heard a voice suddenly come from the television. "What time is it?" Charlie asked.
"Well, the TV just started up again with the morning news, so I think it's about 5:00 a.m. or so," he answered, watching as Charlie rubbed his stomach. "I'm guessing it's probably the pain pills they gave you at the hospital. They always screw up my stomach. C'mon," he said, standing up and offering Charlie a hand. "Let's try to get some toast or something in your stomach. That always helps me."
Charlie reached up and let Bosco grab his hand and help pull him to his feet, a groan escaping as the aches and pains from his beating made themselves well known.
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"Mom!!" Emily gasped, dropping the dish that she was drying as Faith came slowly and haltingly walking up the hallway from her room. Fred followed her with the wheelchair, a big smile played out across his face.
Emily rushed over toward her mother, careful not to lunge at her like she wanted and knock her over. "When did this happen?" Emily asked, her words quick and excited.
"Just somethin' I've been workin' on," Faith answered, Emily's excitement mixing with her own. "I showed your Dad yesterday at the end of my therapy session," she said, slowly lowering herself into the wheelchair that was behind her. "I can't do it for very long yet, but it's a start. I wanted to surprise you guys, but your brother's not here," she said, smiling up at Emily, a little disappointment in her voice.
"Well, he'll be here soon. Mom, it's so great! I'm so happy for you," Emily said, looking over Faith's head to her father who was beaming as well.
"I told you, Em. I told you everything'd be okay," Fred said, putting a hand on Faith's shoulder. "Doctor said she's not allowed to overdo it," Fred told his daughter, giving Faith's shoulder a squeeze as a reminder.
"Don't worry. I'm not about to screw things up now," Faith assured them both. Fred leaned down and gave his wife a kiss. Walking around the chair and hugging Emily, he said, "I gotta get to work. I'll be home about 3:00, okay?"
"Yeah. I'm here all day," Emily said, still beaming over the fact that her mother had just walked up the hallway.
"Okay. Call me if you need anything," he called over his shoulder as he headed for the door. Turning as he opened the door, he looked at Faith. "Take it easy," he ordered and Faith just nodded and waved at him to go on. He gave Faith a wink and pulled the door shut behind him.
"Mom, this is so great. I'm really happy for you. Did you tell Grandma Mitchell or Grandma Yokas yet?" she asked as she went back to the kitchen to clean up the broken dish she'd dropped.
"Not yet. I wanted you guys to all know first. I wish Charlie was here," Faith said, glancing at the clock.
Emily's stomach tightened at that. "Well, he's on his way," she told her mother. "That was him on the phone before saying that he was on his way home," she lied, not telling her mother that it was Bosco on the phone before, telling her that Charlie wanted to tell Faith what was going on, but that he wanted Bosco there with him.
"Em?" Faith called to her, noticing the strange look on her daughter's face. Emily looked up at her mother. "What's wrong?" Faith asked her, not breaking eye contact with her.
"Nothing," Emily said, trying to lighten the moment.
"Em," Faith stated in the tone that Emily knew meant business.
"It's just that..., well...., Bosco's driving him over," Emily finally spit out.
"What?!" Faith practically yelled. "What the hell is Charlie doing with Bosco?"
"Mom, please. Just calm down. We'll all talk about it when they get here, okay?" Emily pleaded.
"No, Em. I want to know what's going on. Now!" she urged.
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TBC...
Chapter 8
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bosco woke to a sound he didn't recognize at first. He sat up quickly, trying to figure out where he was. The immediate soreness of his neck and back reminded him that he was on his own couch, the test pattern on the television screen telling him that the network station had gone off the air for the night. He let out a groan in honor of his aches and pains and listened again to the strange sound that had woken him up. It came from down the hallway of his apartment.
He stood up and started down the hall, remembering that Charlie was there. He noticed the light spilling out from under the bathroom door and as he approached he recognized the sound - the sound of someone getting sick. "Chuckie?" Bosco called, lightly rapping on the bathroom door. He was rewarded with only a slight groan from Charlie as another round of vomiting started.
Bosco reached behind him and grabbed a towel and washcloth from the linen closet in the hallway. He slowly turned the knob on the door, "I'm comin' in, okay?" he said as he pushed the door open. He found Charlie kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, sweat making the hair cling to his forehead and around his face. Bosco turned on the faucet and ran the washcloth under the cool water as Charlie seemed to finish this round. He handed him the cloth and sat down on the edge of the tub, the towel hanging from his hands.
"You okay?" Bosco asked him. "Headache, dizziness, blurred vision?" he asked, checking for any of the symptoms that the doctor had warned him about that would indicate a concussion or more serious head injury from the fight he was in. Charlie shook his head as he wiped down his face and neck with the cool cloth, catching his breath.
"No, it's just my stomach," he said, sitting back, the bathroom wall against his back. "And you were right, I hurt all over," he admitted. Bosco stifled a chuckle. They both heard a voice suddenly come from the television. "What time is it?" Charlie asked.
"Well, the TV just started up again with the morning news, so I think it's about 5:00 a.m. or so," he answered, watching as Charlie rubbed his stomach. "I'm guessing it's probably the pain pills they gave you at the hospital. They always screw up my stomach. C'mon," he said, standing up and offering Charlie a hand. "Let's try to get some toast or something in your stomach. That always helps me."
Charlie reached up and let Bosco grab his hand and help pull him to his feet, a groan escaping as the aches and pains from his beating made themselves well known.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"Mom!!" Emily gasped, dropping the dish that she was drying as Faith came slowly and haltingly walking up the hallway from her room. Fred followed her with the wheelchair, a big smile played out across his face.
Emily rushed over toward her mother, careful not to lunge at her like she wanted and knock her over. "When did this happen?" Emily asked, her words quick and excited.
"Just somethin' I've been workin' on," Faith answered, Emily's excitement mixing with her own. "I showed your Dad yesterday at the end of my therapy session," she said, slowly lowering herself into the wheelchair that was behind her. "I can't do it for very long yet, but it's a start. I wanted to surprise you guys, but your brother's not here," she said, smiling up at Emily, a little disappointment in her voice.
"Well, he'll be here soon. Mom, it's so great! I'm so happy for you," Emily said, looking over Faith's head to her father who was beaming as well.
"I told you, Em. I told you everything'd be okay," Fred said, putting a hand on Faith's shoulder. "Doctor said she's not allowed to overdo it," Fred told his daughter, giving Faith's shoulder a squeeze as a reminder.
"Don't worry. I'm not about to screw things up now," Faith assured them both. Fred leaned down and gave his wife a kiss. Walking around the chair and hugging Emily, he said, "I gotta get to work. I'll be home about 3:00, okay?"
"Yeah. I'm here all day," Emily said, still beaming over the fact that her mother had just walked up the hallway.
"Okay. Call me if you need anything," he called over his shoulder as he headed for the door. Turning as he opened the door, he looked at Faith. "Take it easy," he ordered and Faith just nodded and waved at him to go on. He gave Faith a wink and pulled the door shut behind him.
"Mom, this is so great. I'm really happy for you. Did you tell Grandma Mitchell or Grandma Yokas yet?" she asked as she went back to the kitchen to clean up the broken dish she'd dropped.
"Not yet. I wanted you guys to all know first. I wish Charlie was here," Faith said, glancing at the clock.
Emily's stomach tightened at that. "Well, he's on his way," she told her mother. "That was him on the phone before saying that he was on his way home," she lied, not telling her mother that it was Bosco on the phone before, telling her that Charlie wanted to tell Faith what was going on, but that he wanted Bosco there with him.
"Em?" Faith called to her, noticing the strange look on her daughter's face. Emily looked up at her mother. "What's wrong?" Faith asked her, not breaking eye contact with her.
"Nothing," Emily said, trying to lighten the moment.
"Em," Faith stated in the tone that Emily knew meant business.
"It's just that..., well...., Bosco's driving him over," Emily finally spit out.
"What?!" Faith practically yelled. "What the hell is Charlie doing with Bosco?"
"Mom, please. Just calm down. We'll all talk about it when they get here, okay?" Emily pleaded.
"No, Em. I want to know what's going on. Now!" she urged.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC...