The characters below belong to JE.
Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for the work you've done as the beta on this story.
Chapter 6 – Little Bits
I kept Manny topped off easily during the night without him waking up to catch me. Since my internal clock was completed screwed up, I found myself wide awake at five in the morning, so I rushed through a shower, got dressed, and decided to check out what Cal had brought the night before in the way of searches.
I wasn't trying to be extra quiet, but I didn't want to intentionally wake Manny, either, so I moved to the bar in the kitchen to work, sitting on a stool. The first two were requests for likely addresses other than home or work where a team could attempt to pick up a skip. One took a lot of searching, but I eventually came up with something. The second one was a guy from the 'Burg I'd gone to high school with, so I knew the answer to that without even having to open a search program.
Once I saw the file had been assigned to Cal, I picked up my phone and dialed his number. I assumed I'd get his voicemail, so I had my explanation ready to roll, but I got the man himself after barely half a ring.
"Yo," came the standard greeting.
"You guys should really submit to some kind of telephone skills one oh one training," I blurted out in response.
"Angel, what in the hell are you doing calling me at a quarter after six?" he asked, shocked to hear from me.
"Hey, you can tell time without referencing it in terms of military hours! Do you mind passing that along to some of the other guys?" I teased in return.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice this morning?" he questioned with a laugh.
"I've got an address for you so you can get the skip from the file you left last night," I told him, cutting to the chase.
"What file?" he asked, the sound of papers being moved in a frantic way in the background. "Oh hell, I'm sorry. I mixed my file in with the things I dropped off last night. I didn't mean to make you do my dirty work."
"No worries," I told him honestly, grinning at the fact that he'd basically just confessed that he was so disorganized, he'd lost a file. "And your secret is safe with me. Besides, you would have wasted your time going with the obvious pick up spots."
"All right, lay it on me. How much do I owe you for not only helping me do my job, but for covering my ass with the boss, too?" He sounded serious, so I knew I needed to say something, even though I thought it was a ridiculous question.
"If you showed up tonight to pick up these files and had a Pino's sub, I wouldn't turn it away," I offered.
"You mean all a guy has to do to get entrance into your life is feed you well?" He'd obviously picked up on my joke.
"Yeah, but don't pass that tidbit around, or I'll gain weight with everybody asking for help on their searches," I pretended to object.
We shot the shit for another few minutes, and then I gave him the info he needed. After I hung up, I realized it had been long enough that I needed to check on Manny again, so I hopped off the stool and tiptoed into the den.
"There's no reason to try to be quiet," he said when I was a few feet behind him. "I've been awake for awhile, and there is nothing stealthy about your walking skills."
"I guess there's no reason to ask how you feel this morning," I responded flatly.
"You should know, since you kept pumping me full of drugs through the night," he countered.
I was a pretty average person. I had people that didn't like me and people that did. But I'd never gotten this much direct hostility from someone I hadn't actually done anything to since Joyce decided to make my life a living hell in grade school. Since I refused to believe one of the guys from RangeMan could share anything in common with Joyce, I decided to try a different tactic and be a little nicer to test that whole adage about catching more flies with honey than vinegar.
"I was about to grab a cup of coffee. Can I get you one, too?" I offered, forcing my voice to be softer.
There was a dramatic pause before he said, "No, it makes me jittery on a good day, and since I can't exactly go to the gym and work it off, I'd regret it."
So he could be civil. That was good to know.
He cut through my thoughts about his rapid fire personality changes and asked, "Do you have any extra work from RangeMan I can do? I can't take many days of staring at the ceiling."
"Let me check to see what else I got from Tank," I told him, before going back the kitchen and getting myself a cup of coffee. There was no reason for me to suffer just because Manny couldn't hold his caffeine. Then I thumbed through the files from the office.
A few just had "Help" written on them, so I brought them into the den and set them on his lap before raising the head of the bed up so he could read a little easier.
After the initial wave of pain seemed to clear from his face after being moved, I pointed at the files and said, "I think the guys are looking for a little advice. It looks like someone already pulled all the background info, so they just need somebody to look through and pull out the details that matter."
I kept the files that needed more digging in my own stack and sat in the easy chair Cal had used the night before, resting the laptop on my crossed legs to go searching for missing details.
After no more than half an hour, Manny let out a long breath and said, "How in the hell am I supposed to come up with anything to be helpful? This is just page after page of random facts about the skip."
I leaned forward and took the one on his leg, lifting it gently to be sure I didn't accidently jar his injured limb. I flipped through and had a few things jump out at me. "Do you want me to point out what I usually do with files like this, or were you just asking rhetorically?" I thought it was clear what was needed, but I didn't want to step on his toes if it was going to piss him off again.
He shut the file he had been looking at and said, "Let me guess. You read that one, and the stars aligned to show you the perfect solution."
I glared at him, narrowing my eyes to make the point that his comment wasn't appreciated. "Have you always been this much of an ass, or it is just a special occasion and I'm the only one honored enough to see this side of you?"
He looked away, strangely breaking eye contact with me. I was shocked, because I thought the rule of thumb was the loser of an argument was the one that looked away first.
"Show me," he finally said without turning his head back to face me.
I stood up, moved to his good side, and began walking him through the process of how I looked at the data in the file. When I finished, I summed up by stating the two addresses and times of day that I thought held the greatest likelihood of getting them the skip safely.
"I get your conclusions, and it will help the guys," Manny replied when I finished talking, "but there's no way I would have looked at that paper and gotten to the same place."
I hoped that was a compliment, so I shrugged. "I guess having a thought process that no one understands pays off from time to time, because I see things other people miss."
"I think you're right about what they should do. It's just not logical that you're right," he said, like he was trying to figure out how this was possible.
"Oh, I see. Because I'm the one that came up with a solution, it's shocking and doesn't make sense. How can the untrained and impulsive girl be right?" I raised my voice, hating the defensive tone I was taking. "Don't worry. If you don't like it, you never have to turn over any files to me for my help."
"That's not what I said," he challenged, obviously taking issue with my irritation. "I just meant I couldn't follow your thought process when you explained how you got there, not that it was illogical for you to be right."
I would have apologized and offered some excuse about being tired for being so jumpy, but then I heard him mumble, "Defensive much?" as I walked away, and I found my temper exactly where I'd left it.
"I'm going to finish these later," I bit out. "Without an audience."
Realizing I really didn't have anywhere to go, I walked to the living room, just for a change of scenery, and noticed the small box that I knew contained Nagypapa's tools for carving wood. He used to make the most incredible sculptures out of what had once been a plain block of wood. I opened the box and peeked inside, flooded with the memory of how his older, knotty hands would hold these tools and masterfully craft anything he could imagine.
I shut the box and put it back in its place, leaving my hand on top and shutting my eyes. "Little bits," I remembered him saying. "Only take little bits, and it reveals to you like ice melting around a shape underneath."
I remembered thinking at the time that it had to be deeply important because he looked so uncharacteristically serious when he said it, and as much as I loved hearing his advice, I didn't see how it was helping me, so I lifted my hand and stood up to finish my work.
"Melt him in little bits, child," I heard the familiar voice in my head. I did a quick look around and realized that despite the naps I'd taken, I was obviously still so exhausted that my brain wasn't functioning correctly.
I left the living room quickly to avoid my mind manifesting more fictional advice that I needed to ignore. I moved through the den, feeling a little at a loss about what to do now and knowing that when I was like this, I tended to feel stir crazy about being forced to stay inside. I found myself staring at the wood covering the window on the door that led to the back yard, wishing I could at least see outside, even if I wasn't allowed to open the door.
"It would just make it worse," Manny said in a much softer tone than he'd used earlier.
"What?" I was glad for the diversion, even if it did lead to another argument.
"If you could see outside but not go out, it would be worse because you could see exactly what you were missing instead of just imagining it," he pointed out, proving he had pretty good skills in reading situations.
"I know, but I struggle when I'm locked up. Something about knowing I can't go out makes me want it more than I normally would if it wasn't forbidden," I explained, hoping he wouldn't judge me for my honesty.
"Is that why you usually end up ditching your bodyguard detail when you're under lockdown?" he asked.
I couldn't really detect any judgment in his voice, so I turned around to see if there was anything I could read on his face.
Seeing only curiosity, I decided to answer him. "I guess so, although at the time, I always seem to have a reason to go out, and I feel like no one is listening to me and taking my word for it that what I need to do is worth the risk to my life."
He seemed to consider it for a minute before replying, "But did you balance that with the risk it is to the life of the guy Ranger had commanded to keep you locked up?"
"I guess I always figured they could take care of themselves if they managed to follow me, and if I lost them then their life wouldn't be in danger; it would be safer since they weren't with me," I explained my logic. Admittedly, as I said it, I could see the gaping holes in my thought process, but since I'd put it out there, I had to stand by it.
"Right," he replied, letting me know he saw the same problems with my argument. "Except for when they have to face the boss and admit to losing you. Do you know how it feels to be dressed down in front of your coworkers for losing somebody? And then to have to report to the mats for at least half an hour at the crack of dawn to have the shit beaten out of you to add to your humiliation?"
"If they'd work with me, they could have gone with me, and then they wouldn't have to admit to losing me," I countered, proud of myself for finding a problem with his point.
"And then they'd have to admit they defied Ranger's order to keep you locked up, which is even worse than saying you escaped," he replied, getting a little more animated, as though the thought of what he was saying was pissing him off anew.
"You've never lost me. Why are you so irritated?" I wondered.
"Because I've had to work with a temp partner while my usual one spent the day in traction after learning the lesson that being assigned Bombshell duty isn't the privilege it sounds like," he threw back at me.
"Don't call me Bombshell." I sounded like a petulant child who had lost the argument and therefore had to try to change the subject.
"Why not?" he challenged again. "It fits you perfectly, because you tend to storm in and wreak havoc in your path."
"What did I ever do to you?" I blurted out, truly curious.
He let his head hit the mattress behind him, as though my question took all the strength out of his neck. "You wanted to know. You shouldn't ask questions you don't want to hear the answers to."
I ignored his comment, refusing to keep fighting with someone who couldn't get up and walk away. Instead, I moved to top off his meds, including the lower dose pain medication. When I turned back around, he looked a little concerned.
"What?" I asked, thinking I'd done something wrong.
"What's in the needle?" he asked, looking at my hand as though it were a dangerous weapon.
"Same stuff I've been giving you, except the lower dose of the pain reliever," I explained. "Just because I'm pissed off doesn't mean you have to worry that I'm going to hurt you."
Once I had finished with him, I handed him the remote for the television and explained I'd be at the bar working on the rest of the research Tank sent over. "Call me if you need anything."
"I'm sure I'll be fine," he replied flatly, as though he'd lie in that bed in total agony before he'd admit to needing anything from me.
"Suit yourself," I replied just as curtly before stomping out in a less-than-dignified exit.
I opened the laptop again and brought up my email account, too irritated to try doing any work. Les had forwarded me a couple of X-rated jokes, which I laughed at despite myself. I quickly deleted those before moving on to Cal's email.
Good morning, angel. Just checking in to see how you're doing. Remember last night... You promised not to lie to me anymore when I asked that question. Well, I don't know if you ever technically agreed, but I did insist and you didn't refuse, so your promise was implied. I'll have a sub in hand when I swing by later tonight. Love, Cal
I still couldn't figure out why Cal was being so kind to me. We'd worked together a few times, and he was neither overly friendly nor closed off. I know he said my willingness to look after Manny was what had won them over, but that seemed a bit of a stretch. Realizing I wasn't alert enough to fully analyze his sudden friendliness, I decided it didn't matter, I was just glad to have somebody being nice to me.
Hey, Cal. Thanks for your note. I'm hanging in there, but I have to confess that drugging Manny to knock him out so that he can't talk is starting to sound really good about now. Is he always so disagreeable, or is this a special treat just for me? I'm sure it's just because I'm tired, so in light of the circumstances, I'm actually doing fine. Honest. See you tonight (and if you asked Pino's to throw extra cheese on the sub, I wouldn't mind one bit). ~Steph
I pressed send and worked my way through the rest of the files. Once I'd run out of RangeMan work, I looked around for something else to do. Nothing jumped out at me, so I decided to clean. I had worked my way through the living room, dusting everything I could find, and as I moved across the hall to work in the den, I realized I'd sunk to a new low. Not only was I trapped in a house where I couldn't even look outside, I was now dusting because it sounded like good entertainment.
I heard laughter coming from behind me, and I swung around to see what was so amusing to Manny. He saw me looking at him with what I hoped was my questioning face, and the smile fell from his lips immediately.
"I just thought one of the guys said you were allergic to exercise and domestic stuff, so the idea that you're cleaning to stay busy this early in lockdown means you are going to be looking up exercise regimes soon. The guys will never believe me when I tell them that," he explained.
I would have loved to correct him, but there was a good bit of truth in his words, and I decided the high ground wouldn't kill me just this once. "Don't worry. The day you see me researching exercise methods is the final sign of the apocalypse, so you'll have more on your mind at that point than getting in touch with RangeMan."
"I take it that you're done with your searches," he said, back to friendly Manny, making me think that keeping up with his mood swings was more difficult than Lula with PMS.
"Yeah, so until Bobby or Cal comes back with more, I'm trying to find something to do other than watch more television," I confessed, hoping the conversationalist would stay with me and not snap back to the difficult guy he'd been earlier.
"Did Bobby give you any suggestions of things I need to be doing?" he prompted, giving me the perfect opportunity to actually be helpful.
I gladly dropped the dust rag on an end table and picked up the folder. Bobby had spelled out some stretches Manny should be doing with my help, so I refreshed my memory and then turned to let him know before realizing how rude I was being. I hated it when doctors discussed my care in a way that excluded me and then did whatever they thought was best while leaving me in the dark about what was happening.
I pulled the page of suggestions from Bobby out of the file and held it out to Manny. "There are some exercises here that he suggested. Do you want to read it over to see if it's something you're interested in trying?"
He was obviously surprised by my question, but he covered it quickly and held out his hand for the paper I was offering. It took him a few minutes before he looked up and considered me, as though the answer to some great mystery was stamped on my forehead and would be revealed to him if he glared at it hard enough. "You'll have to help me with counter pressure for some of these."
"Think of it as a kind deed you can do for both us," I began, taking the paper from him and returning it to the folder from Bobby. "You need to keep your strength up, and I need something to do so that I don't have to stoop to cleaning again."
It took us an hour to slowly work through every exercise, and even though I suggested stopping on more than one occasion, Manny insisted on doing them all. By the time we were finished, he looked like shit, and I was exhausted, too. At least I could fix one of those problems. I went back to the table with all the drugs on it and mixed up his cocktail, including pain medication, which I knew he'd complain about, but I was going to insist upon anyway.
"Do I need to ask?" he said, pointing at the syringe when I faced him.
"You can ask, but I'm giving it to you anyway," I warned. "There's nothing in here to make you loopy, but I am giving you pain meds."
"I've got to get off them," he replied, but he made no attempt to keep me from injecting it in his port.
"And you will, but not right after moving that much for the first time," I countered, not wanting him to suffer for all he'd just done.
I turned on the television and found a travel show about Western Europe. It wasn't something I would usually watch, but I found the scenery beautiful and it made a steady kind of background noise, which quickly put Manny to sleep.
Once I was sure he was out, I went back to the kitchen and poked around for something to do. I noticed some boxes of Jell-O on the counter and decided to mix one up. Manny needed to start with fluids, and I knew jello would count. And since it was basically just stirring hot water, I was pretty sure I wouldn't screw it up.
Fortunately, by the time I finished that job and got it in the fridge, my phone rang and Bobby was on the line, warning me that he was outside the door.
"Hey, Steph. How are you holding on?" he asked, watching me carefully to find any clue that what I was saying wasn't the whole truth.
I shrugged. "It depends." Honesty seemed like a good idea at the moment. "Right now, all is well, but it doesn't always stay that way."
He hugged me, obviously satisfied with my frank assessment. "Why don't you go rest for a bit, and I'll check Manny over. I can wake you before I leave, all right?"
I nodded, thinking a nap was exactly what I needed to get control once again, and made my way to the colorful room once again, dropping on the mattress and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
There was no doubt I was dreaming, because I was surrounded by flowers in colors so bright, I was squinting. I ran my hand over the tops of the blossoms as they bent in the wind, and when my hand came into contact with each new type of flora, I heard a voice in my head whisper a word that I assumed was an attribute of that plant. There was a bright red one that said love when I touched it. A yellow one whispered peace, and a strange vining plant suggested it was for happiness. I stood there thinking it was strange that the last two seemed to be backward. If anything, the yellow flower looked happy and the green plant was more peaceful. But when I tested them each a second time, I got the same words in my mind, so I moved on, figuring I didn't have a right to doubt them about their purpose.
As dreams went, it was a very pleasant one, although when I woke up a few hours later, I had a strange need to sneeze. Nagymama's garden used to be much like the one in my dream, and based on the glass bottles of the dried plants I'd discovered, I guessed she must have heard them confessing their purpose as well. While I didn't have the same soft, gentle spirit she'd possessed, I was still happy to think that my dreams were impacted by my memories of her.
"Be patient, child, and the earth will help to heal him, too."
I jumped up from the bed and glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice that had spoken. This was getting out of control. I was getting enough naps to string together into a decent night's sleep, even if it wasn't all at one time. Even though Manny was grumpy, I didn't think I was under enough stress at the moment to blame that on my sanity cracking. Finally, I guessed it was the bright room and that my subconscious was being impacted by the strange colors and it was revolting in some way by making me think I was hearing voices.
Having come up with a justification, I freshened up in the bathroom and pulled out the last clean outfit from my bag, wondering if the washer and dryer here still worked. I looked at the clothes I had been wearing and decided if they had to, they could serve another day, so there was no rush to get all domestic and start doing laundry, too.
Then I set off down the hall to see how Bobby and Manny had done with each other. When I walked in, Bobby was watching a game with his boots up on the end of Manny's bed.
"Hey, Steph," he greeted me loudly when I entered his field of vision.
I put my finger to my lips in a shushing motion, and Bobby smiled and laughed.
"No need to be quiet; he's out of it."
"Yeah, but he'll wake up if we're too noisy, and if he doesn't get enough sleep, he'll be grumpy," I warned.
"He's not waking up because I knocked his ass out," Bobby explained.
"You hit him?" I gawked, understanding the desire to hit his smart mouth, but shocked that the man who was supposed to be making Manny better had beaten him up.
That only made Bobby laugh harder. "No, Steph, even though he deserved it, I didn't hit him. I did, however, use meds to force him to sleep. He was irritating the hell out of me, and since I could tell from your notes that you hadn't done it, I figured it wouldn't hurt just this once."
"You drugged him?" I realized.
"Yes, I did," Bobby admitted, not looking the least bit guilty. If anything, he looked pleased about it. "And if he can't control his damn mouth, I'll do it again, too."
I was pretty sure Bobby was joking. That was all it took to shatter my control, and I began laughing uncontrollably. Bobby jumped up and pulled me to his chest, recognizing that while I might be laughing, there was a whole whirlwind of emotions here that wouldn't really be considered humorous.
"I'm so sorry you are having to do this," he whispered when I started to calm down. "Just say the word, and I'll pull you out and have someone else assigned here. There's no reason for you to have to suffer with his attitude. I knew he was a terrible patient, but I've never seen him this bad."
I shook my head no, too stubborn to admit defeat. This might be hard, but it wasn't in my personality to give up on somebody when they needed me, and even if he wouldn't admit it, Manny needed somebody. Based on his strange, rapidly-shifting attitude, I figured he'd fare better with me than anyone else.
"I had a feeling you'd say that, but just remember that my offer stands at anytime," he reminded me, before kissing my hair and stepping back to give us both a little room.
We went through some more changes to Manny's treatment, including the need for him to try some liquids on a regular basis. I told him about the jello and was rewarded with a big smile for my forward thinking.
After he'd given me my orders for the next day, he announced it was time for him to head out, promising to return the next night and reminding me he was only a phone call away if I had any questions.
When I opened the front door to let Bobby go, Cal was standing there, holding a bag from Pino's and a stack of files from RangeMan. He walked right in, placed a kiss on my cheek, and nodded to Bobby before making himself at home and moving into the kitchen.
After saying goodnight to Bobby and resetting the alarm, I turned around and touched my cheek where they'd both kissed me. I might be stuck here with a grumpy man, but the guys that were checking up on me were being unbelievably friendly. They'd never been this touchy-feely with me before, and after thinking about it for half a second, I realized I really liked it.
Smiling when I remembered how Nagymama used to talk about balance in life, I realized the newfound affection from the guys was making up for the difficult part of trying to care for Manny. And as the scent of marinara and cheese hit my nose, I realized it was a more than fair trade.