John's lips moved into a thin smile. "Good."
"When do you want to…take care of things?" Amanda questioned.
John paused, considering. "Let's buy your clothes and stuff today. The bed…well the website offers overnight delivery to certain areas. I'll place an order."
"You've already planned this?" Amanda realized, watching his face. She inhaled deeply, trying to fight back panic.
"I had considered the possibility even before I first found you," John responded, guarded.
Amanda's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
She didn't trust him. John had to think fast.
"Just from what I had heard, and thought that you might survive," he explained. "I never intended to force you to stay, but wanted to see if it was a viable option."
At this point, almost absentmindedly, John had moved his hands away from her stomach and began to rub her back. It was something Jill had loved.
Not Amanda. Immediately, Amanda let out a low growl and started to pull away. Seeing her reaction, John withdrew his hands.
"Stop that!" she whimpered.
"I'm sorry..." John looked at her, not comprehending.
She sighed, eyes pleading, body hunched over. "Look. I don't mind being touched, but not where I can't see. Please?"
John nodded, somewhat registering the situation. She had probably been hurt from behind before. Or perhaps she just wanted him to stay in clear view. But he had done the same thing for the past week when he had bathed her, and she hadn't reacted that way.
John didn't know how to phrase it, though. "But when...?"
Amanda sighed, immediately comprehending, and feeling her face turn red. "You didn't give me a choice then," she replied in a matter of fact tone. She paused. "I don't know. That's different."
"All right."
John tentatively wrapped his arms around her body. She snuggled against him, resting her head on his shoulder, reminding John of a kitten. "That's okay," she confirmed, closing her eyes.
"Good." He was still confused, but decided to let it go. He coughed lightly. "We'll go shopping for things for you today. You need a lot--clothes, sheets, blankets. Target has all of that."
Amanda raised her head to face him. "Yeah. But expensive."
"That doesn't matter," John replied. "Don't worry about it." Amanda started to speak, but John interrupted her by speaking over her protests. "You won't have to repay me."
Amanda did not believe this, but thought it made more sense to remain silent. After a few minutes of resting in John's arms, he spoke again, releasing his hold. "Come on. Let's get started."
Amanda, reluctantly it seemed, released her hold and followed him out of the bed. Already dressed, she only needed shoes and a jacket before she was ready to leave.
John, however, insisted that eat lunch first, and for the first time, Amanda saw other parts of his house.
The kitchen area wouldn't seem terribly impressive to most people, but Amanda hadn't been around middle class families and looked pleased by what she saw. Though not painted or furnished, the room held a large refrigerator, an oven, and a stove with a sink attached. Under the stove was a small set of drawers, and above it was a cabinet. In front of these items sat a large table with two chairs, make entirely out of wood. Amanda wondered if John had made them. She stood awkwardly in the doorway, not sure what she was supposed to do, and stared at the floor boards until John spoke.
"Would you like a sandwich with some fruit?" John offered.
Amanda raised her gaze from the floor to the figure gathering plates. "What kind?"
John laughed. "Sandwich or fruit?"
"Well, sandwich, but I guess both."
John opened the cabinet. "There's some peanut butter. I have some cheese in the refrigerator. I'm afraid that's all that's available."
So that had been another reason for the sudden shopping trip. Amanda hid a grin.
"Peanut butter's fine."
"As for fruit…there's an apple but I think it might be old, and some oranges in the refrigerator."
"Okay. I guess the orange." Amanda wasn't partial to that fruit, not even enjoying orange juice very much (she preferred milk), but she didn't want to take a chance on a rotten apple.
As John walked to the refrigerator, he saw that she was still standing. "You can sit down," he told her, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Either chair's fine."
Amanda nodded, turning red, walked over to the table and took a seat. The chair felt extremely uncomfortable against her butt, and seemed to hurt her back.
Moments later, John placed identical meals on the table in front of both chairs. "We can pick up dinner on the way back," he suggested, taking his seat.
Amanda nodded and started to eat. The bread tasted hard and it was a struggle to keep everything down. John must have felt the same way because he only ate half of his sandwich.
"That was awful," John determined after finishing his last bite, and getting up. "I promise that dinner won't be as bad."
Amanda laughed. "I've had worse," she replied. She didn't add the "in jail" part, but John seemed to know what she meant.
He took his dishes up to the sink and washed them briefly. "There's a closet in the next room with some jackets. Your shoes are on the bottom."
"Okay." She walked to the next room, found another door that looked like it was the closet John had been referring to, and opened it. Some coats fell out.
She rolled her eyes, picked them up, and put them back on the hangers. She looked for her shoes for a few minutes before finding them, tucked in the back. Dust bunnies had already started to form. Gross.
She picked them up, shook out the dust, and kicked the dust back into the closet. Then she inspected the hangers for a jacket. Amanda had no idea what the weather was like outside. It had been March when Jigsaw had put Amanda in the trap. Was it April now? She couldn't remember.
Amanda grabbed a medium heavy jacket, brown, fairly short, and made for a corduroy material. She tried it on—it was a little loose but it fit. She was skinnier than John.
Of course, she had probably lost weight over the past couple of weeks. Amanda hadn't eaten much at Liz's since the trap, and even though John had fed her for the past week, she had spent the week before unconscious.
She closed the door and walked back into the kitchen, putting on her shoes by feel as she walked.
"Should we make a list?" she asked, seeing that John had finished the dishes.
John shook his head. "Anything we forget, we can go back for. Target's not far from here. Are you ready?"
Amanda nodded, zippering up the coat.
John grabbed his coat from his chair, reached into his pants pockets –probably for his car keys, Amanda thought—and pulled out a large chain of keys. He frowned, removed a few, and put the others on the table.
"Let's go."
Amanda wanted to follow John, having no idea where they were going, but John put an arm around her and forced her to walk beside him. It reminded her of when she was a little kid and went to the mall with her mom.
Outside the building sat a slightly banged up black car. John stopped in front of it, unlocked the doors, and opened the one on Amanda's side. At first, she was afraid that this was some kind of elaborate trap, but she shook away the paranoia.
John's just trying to be nice, she told herself, firmly.
The ride to the store was silent. John didn't speak, so Amanda didn't attempt to make conversation. Clearly, John was one of those people who could only do so many things at once. That, or he hated to talk while driving.
Amanda stared out the window and let her mind wander during the ten minute drive. She wondered how Liz was doing. Her sister had told her she was no longer welcome, but Amanda thought that Liz would be disconcerted by her sudden disappearance. Had Liz seen John when he took her away?
She wondered, yet again, about Mike. He could be anywhere by now. She had his last name, but it was a common one. It was possible that he was in jail now, having been picked up for dealing drugs. Or maybe he stopped when Amanda was caught. She had been sentenced without bail so, or as Amanda had told herself, he couldn't have done anything to help her.
John pulled into the parking lot, turned off the car, and unlocked the doors. Amanda hadn't even noticed the doors were locked until that moment, and was relieved that she had been oblivious. It would not have helped her fears.
Silently, Amanda unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. John had been faster and was waiting for her on the other side. He held out an arm, even though the car was not high off the ground, and should Amanda fall she would not have hurt herself too badly. These gestures that would seem romantic in a boyfriend just freaked her out.
"I'm fine," she said, not taking the hand.
Once they started walking, John put an arm around Amanda's shoulders again. This time, it didn't feel as weird because it was pretty cold outside, and his arm felt warm. She must have put her head back slightly, because John was soon smoothing her hair in a fatherly kind of way.
It was nice, and Amanda briefly allowed herself to enjoy it.
Once they were in the store, however, John's mind turned to other matters. He selected a large cart and started shopping.
They did the food the first because it was nearby. John picked out various types of meats from the frozen foods section, and then went on to breads, and cereal. Amanda followed him aimlessly as he shopped; he did not expect her input nor did it appear that he wanted it. Fortunately, Amanda was not a picky eater and the foods he chose were fairly basic. Mostly, it was healthy stuff, but every now and then he'd add something like graham crackers, and even went to the ice cream section.
"Any favorites?" he asked, nodding to her.
Amanda thought for a minute. "Strawberry's pretty good."
He picked out two containers of Breyer's Strawberry Ice Cream, and then chose mint chocolate chip for himself. He paused for a few seconds, and then selected two boxes of low fat ice cream sandwiches.
"I have a weakness for chocolate," John explained, smiling. "Not very healthy, of course, but I always eat some. Every day. Dark chocolate is supposed to be healthier, but it's not my taste."
Amanda smiled. "Mine's gummy bears. But only the pineapple ones."
"The others are fairly disgusting," John agreed.
As they passed the candy section, Amanda saw him throw in some mini Hershey bars and a few packs of gummy bears. She smiled to herself.
Clothes were next on the list. Amanda had maybe two outfits, so John wanted to get her all new clothes. They didn't share the same tastes; Amanda liked bold patterns, close fitting tank tops with spaghetti strap sleeves, and tight jeans. John's style was much more conventional. He, Amanda felt, would have liked to see her in long skirts and shirts that reached to just below the neck.
They ended up compromising, getting some of the skirts John wanted, a few pairs of jeans Amanda wanted, and plenty of shirts that were neither too revealing nor could they still fit if Amanda gained fifty pounds. John then picked out a few more "respectable" skirts for Amanda, and Amanda retaliated chose a few shirts that were more figure flattering. Sweatpants, however, they both agreed on. That, and sweatshirts, socks, and jackets.
Most embarrassing was shopping for bras and underwear with John. There was no getting around the fact that bras were expensive. The most basic ones cost at least twenty-five dollars, but for Amanda they were a necessity for life. (Underwear was more reasonable, and Amanda just turned red when she picked up the type that she needed. Neither wanted to discuss them to any extent.) John, however, was not a female and did not understand why someone would spend so much money when a shirt cost half that, and covered the whole stomach area.
"They're priced by men," Amanda explained. "Men know that women wear them and that there's a market."
"But do you really need something that expensive to support your…?" He trailed off, not saying the word.
"Breasts. They're called breasts. And yeah, I do need them. Virtually every female does, regardless of size. It's like having two tennis balls glued to your chest," she tried to explain.
John sighed, realizing he had to give in because as he was not a woman, he could not win this argument. "How many do you need?"
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Seven? If I do laundry once a week, then that should be enough." She paused. "Maybe eight in case one breaks or shrinks."
"That's two hundred dollars in something you can't even see!" he protested, half heartedly.
"John," Amanda retorted, removing eight white bras of her size from the rack, "you'll know if I'm not wearing one. Believe me, you don't want to see."
Nightwear was the easiest. Amanda had always worn nightgowns, and unlike bras, their prices were not prohibitive. John let her select several of the same style (low cut but respectable, ankle length or just above) without complaint.
After finishing that, something else occurred to Amanda. "I need stuff for when I get my period," she whispered.
John rolled his eyes. "Fine."
On the way to the bedding section, Amanda grabbed a couple of boxes of tampons.
She realized how much she had taken Mike for granted. Of course, John had probably never lived with a woman before.
Amanda had never really shopped for sheets or blankets before. Perhaps she would have given them more thought had she gone to college or lived on her own, but to her they were just something that were there. Colors, texture, and patterns were fairly meaningless to her. Even cleanliness didn't particularly affect her.
John, however, told her to look carefully because there were a lot of selections, and recommended some that were fairly inexpensive.
Including beech sheets. Amanda had never even heard of the name before, but when she felt them, it felt like silk against her skin. Surprisingly, they were the same price as regular cotton sheets. John had probably used them on his bed (perhaps before Amanda came?) but Amanda thought they must be new. Then again, her coworkers hadn't exactly been the type of people to talk about what kinds of sheets they used.
Amanda chose navy colored ones, and John had her choose another color as a backup set. He then selected some pillowcases in the same material, and then some pillows.
The blanket, also fairly inexpensive, made Amanda think she would never want to leave her bed. When she told John this, he laughed and picked out a second one.
"Why two?" Amanda questioned.
"In case you want to use it when you're relaxing…watching a movie or something," he explained. "Make sure yours is larger than a twin, though. Blankets should be."
Amanda nodded, checked, and added hers to the cart. It was starting to overflow, and Amanda wondered how much John would spend when they were finished.
John selected a few more, less comfortable, blankets and a comforter for extra warmth. Since his house was always cold, Amanda didn't blame him.
Towels were next on the list and, again, something Amanda didn't care about. She let John pick out some blue towels for her without commenting. She knew that John's were red, so there would be no mistaking hers for his.
Once they were done with this, John paused. "Anything else?"
"Toothbrush? Toothpaste? Shampoo?" she asked. "Oh, and laundry detergent? You said we were out of it."
"Right," John agreed, and they headed in that direction.
Then John wanted to buy some movies. Amanda had, once again, no preferences, so he got a mixed selection. Some of the titles included The Matrix, Saving Private Ryan, Citizen Kane, Bruce Almighty (John's all time favorite), and Stepmom (as per Amanda's request--she had seen part of it at a friend's birthday party once). She had expected him to have a preference for horror movies, but John either owned the ones displayed in the case or disliked them, because he stayed away from that genre entirely. Not that he was a die hard Disney fan.
By the time everything was purchased, Amanda felt ready to collapse. Shopping (and negotiating) had taken nearly four hours, and most of her energy. Finding out the total cost (over a thousand dollars, food included) hadn't helped her nerves, either. Regardless of what John had said before, Amanda thought that this was just another thing he would throw back at her at a future point, something more that she would owe him.
Not that she could do much about it at this point.
On the way home, John called Dominos to order a pizza. Amanda volunteered to leave the car to pick it up. They ate some of it right away and Amanda could some of her energy come back.
Just unloading everything would have been hard enough, but John wanted to wash all of the clothes and blankets before Amanda used them. He, it turned out, was fairly picky about germs. Given the tests he put people through, it was almost laughable. Amanda did not remember the room with the bear trap being particularly sanitary.
The bed pieces had arrived, but weren't put together. Fortunately, John didn't find it hard. It was basically what Amanda knew as "dorm room furniture"; Mike's apartment had the same stuff. The bed could be high or low from the ground…Amanda chose a higher setting but low enough to be able to get in and out of without must problem. John had another mattress and let her use that. It was extremely comfortable, much like his which she had been using.
As they waited for everything to finish in the washer and drier (John had two of each), Amanda and John sat on the rather old couch and watched a movie. Amanda was too tired to remember much about it and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep. She woke up later to find herself in John's arms the next morning.
A/N: Please review! Once again, I cannot guarantee the next chapter will be up until I have received five reviews. Please? (makes a puppy face)