"Amanda?"
John's voice snapped Amanda out of her musings.
"Are you all right?" he asked, approaching her.
She nodded vaguely. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for the cat," she replied, sounding distracted.
John sighed. Communication was not their strong point, and it didn't seem to be getting better over the past several days. At first, he had justified it by telling himself that Amanda was scared of him, that she was still very sick. Now, though, she couldn't still be worried about him trying to hurt her?
Well, this was not true. She had been terrified of the head rest until John had explained what it was for. He sighed. She was certainly slow to trust people.
Had he known what Amanda had been thinking, he might have felt more patient with her. After all, they were both concerned about the same thing, which was her ability to care for and trust John.
John reached out his hands, awkwardly, wanting to pull Amanda into a hug yet unsure if she would accept it. Gratefully, she extended her own arms and walked into the hug. She held him tightly, tighter than usual, but it did not hurt or feel at all unpleasant. This was good. It was something.
When she let go, a minute later, she smiled tentatively. She spoke softly, so quietly John had to strain to hear her. "I think I want to take my bath now, instead of after dinner."
John nodded. "Would you like any help?" he asked.
She nodded. "Could you wash my hair? It feels so good when you do it," she added, flushing, by way of explanation.
She spoke so tentatively, as though sure John would say no, or perhaps do something cruel like hold her head under the water. He could feel himself soften again. He was so used to doing things for her, and then ceasing to do them when Amanda was able to take over, that it hadn't occurred to him she enjoyed them, looked forward to them. Perhaps it was even part of the bond they were beginning to form.
She really is just like a child, he thought, surprised that he hadn't seen it earlier.
John had just seen Amanda as incapable, even incompetent. Temporarily so, of course, but still, a lesser human under his care. Now, it seemed, love was playing a larger role in his actions.
"Of course, Amanda," he replied, smiling.
She smiled back, looking relieved.
"You start the water. I want to take out the meat to defrost," John instructed, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Amanda just nodded and moved towards the tub.
"Afterwards, we can play Scrabble," John suggested, walking across the room.
"What's that?" Amanda called.
"It's a board game. I'll bring it up," John promised. "It's fairly simple."
It was difficult to find. John hadn't used it in well over a year. Jill used to play with him (he would let her win—she would claim she went easy on him) on occasion. When he did find it, it was in the basement with a box of other board games he hadn't used in years. Not surprisingly, he found that there was dust all over them. He tried to wipe some of it off with a sleeve, but all that did was make his shirt dirty.
John wondered why he hadn't thrown them out before. He must have forgotten. He forgot that he even owned Scrabble until ten minutes ago. The word "game" had been associated with traps in his mind for months now. He knew that there was another meaning to the word, of course, but he never used it.
Well, until now.
He lugged the box upstairs, set it on the kitchen table, and wiped it off with a paper towel. Looking at the dust stained shirt, he sighed, walked to the laundry room, and changed into a clean shirt. Remembering the other reason he had left Amanda, John searched the freezer for the hamburger meat. Fortunately, that was much easier to find. A hard lump wrapped in plastic sat on the lowest shelf. He took it out of the freezer and placed it on the island. He walked back to the table and, after a moment's hesitation, removed the entire box and headed upstairs to see Amanda.
She was already soaking in the water, her head securely positioned within the head rest. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling slightly. She looked so serene there, so peaceful. He smiled, approached her, and touched her shoulder lightly. Her eyes opened lazily.
"Hello," John greeted, kneeling against the tub. "Are you ready?"
Amanda paused. "Few more minutes?" she asked.
He nodded. "Okay, kitten."
He'd have to find a better nickname for her in the water. "Kitten" wasn't accurate; cats despised water. Her ease put her in the fish category, but there was nothing fishlike about her appearance. John stared at her body language and facial features, trying to come up with an appropriate animal with which to associate.
Dolphin? John visibly shook his head. Fortunately, Amanda's eyes were closed and she didn't see. No, too playful.
After all, Amanda wasn't the type of person to dunk others in a pool. She didn't seem to be the type of person who would enjoy swimming laps.
Amanda simply thrived in the water. Her body seemed freer, her face less constrained.
Perhaps a mermaid? But those didn't exist.
Mercat? That might work. A cat who lived in the water. John repeated the word inside his head. Mercat. It had a nice sound to it.
"Ready?" he asked, smoothing out her wet hair.
"Okay."
She felt around the tub until she found the button, and John saw the walls fall down.
"How's that working?" John questioned. "Does it hurt at all?"
Amanda shook her head. "It's fine."
He poured shampoo into his hands and began to apply it to her hair carefully. She giggled when he touched the middle of her neck…
"Are you ticklish?" he asked.
"Um, maybe?" she laughed. "I'm not telling."
"That means yes, silly," John replied, rubbing the shampoo on the top of her head.
"Hmph," she replied. "Just not here, please!" she added.
"I won't," he promised, still massaging the top of her head. "Maybe after your bath, though…"
She groaned. "Meanie," she declared. Then, in a more quiet voice, she added, "Please don't, John."
"I won't, kitten," he promised.
John continued to massage her head until his hands felt like they were about to fall off. She looked so happy, though, that he thought it was worth it. He began to rinse off the shampoo, using the spray with one hand and covering her forehead with the other. Amanda lay on the head rest throughout this, and John wasn't entirely sure if she was still awake until he saw her left arm move.
After the bath, a very peaceful looking Amanda lay stretched out on her bed as John lay out the pieces for the game.
"You're going to fall asleep if you stay like that," John warned, raising his eyebrows.
"No, I won't," she replied, eyes closed. She shifted so that her face was touching the pillow. "Are we going to eat soon?"
"I forgot!" John groaned. "I'll cook everything and then bring it up?" he asked, seeing that Amanda was not about to move.
"Mmmkay," she replied, opening her eyes.
He kissed her on the cheek. "You're so pretty," he cooed. "You should try to think of a name for the kitten."
"A name?" she asked blankly.
"All stuffed animals need names, Amanda," he replied.
Then he left the room to make dinner.
Amanda opened her eyes, stretched, and then reached for the stuffed cat and held it tightly, the face aligned with hers.
"I love you," she whispered, stroking its ears. "Now, what should your name be?"
She stared at the cat carefully, continuing to pet it. "Well, you're obviously a girl, and you're light brown with dark eyes. Kind of like mine," she added, laughing. "That's probably why John chose you. How about Brownie?"
"I like that name!" She made her voice high and squeaky, speaking for the cat. "It's nice to meet you, Amanda."
"It's nice to meet you too, Brownie."
"What is your name?" the cat asked, moving her head around to look at her surroundings.
"My name's Amanda," Amanda replied.
"Meooooow," the cat replied, resting her head on the covers. "This bed is nice."
"Isn't it? John got it for me," Amanda replied, grinning. She was having fun with this.
The two continued talking until John entered the room, holding two plates with hamburgers and French fries.
"Do you have a guest?" John asked, trying not to smile. "I thought I heard someone here."
She made a face, returning back to reality. "That looks good," she said, trying to change the subject.
John set one plate on the table beside Amanda, but was having too much fun to end the conversation.
"What's her name?" he asked, petting the cat with his free hand.
"Brownie," was Amanda's reluctant response.
"Very nice," John complimented. "We'll play Scrabble after you finish eating." His eyes twinkled. "You might not want to let Brownie get into that."
Amanda rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Very funny."
A/N: As always, the five review rule applies, but I can't guarantee that I'll post the next chapter the day after receiving the fifth review. I can say, however, that if I get five reviews, I will update again within a week. It's just a lot of work and right now, I'm going through a dry period as far as writing goes. I'm hoping this will help. So, please review!