Disclaimers; Do I own 'The Rookies?' Wait. I have to finish laughing first. No, I don't own the show.
Summary: Mike allows Willie and Terry to visit Jill as she accidentally learns what her husband does for a living. Her progress continues, which leads to a decision about the second part of her rehabilitation.
Chapter 7: Old Friends or New Friends?
The following morning, Jill was waiting for the orderly to take her to the operating room for her hand surgery. She was scared and jumpy when the door opened and Mike walked in. "Hi," he whispered as he walked over and pulled up a chair.
"Hi," she answered in a small, scared voice. ""They . . . gave . . . me . . . a . . . shot."
"Then why aren't you sleepy?"
"Afraid."
"What're you afraid of?" His blue eyes narrowed in concern.
"I . . . might . . . not . . . wake . . . up."
Jill, you're going to be fine."
"What . . . if . . . I . . . forget . . . more?"
"You're afraid that you're going to wake up and remember even less than you do now?" He guessed as she nodded. "I don't think that's going to happen. You're going to come out of this surgery and your hand is going to be so much better. Maybe they'll even stop making you wear that brace."
"I . . . hope . . . so. Hurts," she admitted as the two orderlies entered the room with a gurney.
"I see that your carriage is here," he smiled as she gave him a funny look. "What's the matter?"
"I've . . . heard . . . someone . . . say . . . that . . . before," she looked puzzled as the orderly came over and helped her onto the gurney.
"Do you want me to walk with you to the elevator?" He asked, as he tried to hide a small smile of victory.
"Yes," she answered simply as she was wheeled out of the room toward the elevator.
"I'll see you soon," he assured her as they wheeled the gurney onto the elevator and the door closed behind them.
He stood against the wall continuing to smile. On occasion when they were dating and when they were first reunited, he'd tell her that her 'carriage waited yonder.' He'd stopped saying it after the incident with Lee Borden, because it seemed that everything associated with that nightmare now caused her fear, including certain things that might've been said in jest. It had taken months for the children's nursery rhyme 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' to stop making her scream in fear when she heard it.
He made a note to let Dr. Conti know that some words were causing recognition in Jill's mind.
Jill was in surgery for almost two hours and in recovery for another 45 minutes before she was moved back to her room. Her right hand was wrapped in several layers of thick gauze and covered with an ace bandage. Mike was sitting there watching her as she slept with his head leaning against the metal railing when he heard a light tap on the door. He looked up as Terry and Willie walked in, Terry holding a vase of flowers. "How's she doing?" He whispered, careful not to wake her.
"She's still out of it. Nice flowers," he commented as he got up and ushered them from the room.
Terry placed the flowers on the dresser before following Mike and Willie from the room. "How'd the surgery go?"
"The hand surgeon thinks that it went really well. He said that he'll know more in a day or two as she recovers," he said with a wry grin.
"What's going on?" Terry asked. "Did Jill suddenly remember something?"
"No. I said something earlier about her carriage arriving or something like that. It was something that I used to tease her about all of the time. I haven't said it in a while. She made a comment about someone having said that before."
"That's good, isn't it? It means that she's starting to remember, doesn't it?" Willie asked excitedly.
"I don't think so, William. I don't think she's going to wake up and suddenly remember all of us. I think it means that the memories are there. They just need to come to the surface so that she can sort them out."
"Mike, we'd really like to visit her. Maybe she won't remember us, but we miss her," Terry said.
"I know. Look, it's all baby steps with Jill right now. Some of it is heartbreaking to watch. Let me talk to her and see how she feels about visitors. She might welcome someone besides me coming to see her."
"Okay, well we have to get back to work. Kiss her for us when she wakes up," Terry said as Mike made a face and shook his head. "Never mind, just do whatever it is you're doing these days to let her know that we care about her."
"I will. Thanks again for the flowers."
He went back into her room and sat down, once again leaning his head against the railing. He sat like that for a long time before he saw Jill's eyes flutter open. She turned her head toward him and fully opened her eyes. "Cleve . . . won't . . . like . . . seeing . . . you . . . here," she whispered as she fought to stay awake.
His heart sank. He couldn't believe that she still thought that Cleve was alive. Yesterday she seemed to accept the news that he was dead. He decided to let the news about his death go for the time being. He'd try to bring it up again when she was stronger and more alert. "How do you feel?" He asked as he brushed her hair off of her forehead.
"Tired. Thirsty. Can . . . I . . . have . . . some . . . water?"
"Let me check with the nurse. I'll be right back," he left the room and returned several minutes later with a plastic cup. "Jill?"
"What?"
"The nurse said that you can't have any water right now, but I've got some ice chips," he sat down and placed some in her mouth. "Are you in pain?"
"No," she sucked on the ice chips. "Just . . . tired."
"Then close your eyes and go to sleep," he smiled as she did just that.
***MJMJMJ***
When the bandages came off of her hand several days later, Paul decided that it was time to move the therapy to the swimming pool, much to Jill's horror. Her eyes widened in terror as he had Curtis wheel her down to the pool. "What . . . are . . . you . . . doing?"
"Taking the next step in your therapy. You can now take six steps on the parallel bars in the exercise room. Water makes you buoyant, thus increasing your confidence. By the time we leave this pool, you'll have taken your 10 steps. We're going to work in the pool every day until you can take those 10 steps upstairs," he informed her as she began shaking her head. "Jill, it doesn't matter if you can't swim."
"How . . . deep?"
"Five feet."
"No!" She screamed at him as Paul and Curtis exchanged looks.
"Jill, you don't have a choice. I'm going to be honest here. Your progress sucks! I should've had you graduated to a walker by now, working your way up to using crutches. You shouldn't still be trying to walk the length of the bars. You should be way beyond that! Now, you and I are going to get into this pool and we're going to work harder than you've ever thought possible. Curt, bring her down into the water," he instructed his assistant.
Jill began to scream and fight as Curtis wheeled her down the ramp into the pool. "Take . . . me . . . out!" She continued to flail and scream as Paul waded her way over to her.
"Jill, I'm not going to let you drown!" He shouted as she stopped struggling. "You're going to be doing the same thing here that you've been doing upstairs. The only difference is you're going to be doing it in water."
"You . . . won't . . . let . . . me . . . fall?"
"The water will hold you up. You're going to be okay," he assured her as he nodded at Curtis, who lifted her into his powerful arms and walked through the water toward the parallel bars, where he put her down.
Paul was right. Standing in the water was easier, but he didn't understand how afraid she was of deep water. At least she could stand with her feet on the bottom of the pool and her head was still above the water. Since the surgery, her hand was slightly better. At least it didn't feel like jell-o anymore. She still couldn't grip things tightly with it, but she'd been assured that would get better in time, which was why in addition to Paul and Lydia, her speech therapist, she'd now been assigned a hand therapist, as well.
After exercising in the pool, he helped her get dried off and cleaned up before taking her back to her room. He looked at his watch, seeing that it was still a little early for Mike's lunchtime visit. He decided that he wanted to talk to him when he arrived. He lifted Jill into her bed and covered her with a light blanket before clicking the railing into place "Can . . . I . . . walk . . . with . . . somebody?"
"You want to get out of bed?" He clarified as she nodded. "I can't say that I blame you. If you promise not to overdo it, we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?"
"Not . . . today?"
"I shouldn't be doing this, but I'm going to give you the afternoon off," Jill frowned as he watched her. "What's wrong?"
"You . . . said . . . I . . . sucked. How . . . do . . . I . . . get . . . better . . . if . . . you . . . give . . . me . . . time . . . off?"
"Good point. You're absolutely right. Do you want to get back into the pool or go to the exercise room?"
"Room."
"Okay, then I'll see you at two o'clock," he was smiling to himself as he walked to the elevator just as Mike stepped off. "Mr. Danko, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"It's Mike, and yes you can. What's going on?"
"Can Jill swim?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I started her on aqua therapy this morning and she completely freaked out on me. I thought for a minute that I was going to have to have her sedated."
"Jill doesn't like deep water. If she can't stand up, she'll freak out. Is she okay now?"
"Yeah, she's fine. She wants to know when she can start walking with somebody. When I suggested giving her the afternoon off, she refused."
"She actually wants to go to therapy?" Mike asked dubiously.
"I told her this morning that her progress wasn't going very well. I think that might've motivated her just a bit. Anyway, I'll be back for her around two," he said as he rang for the elevator.
Jill was sitting up in bed when Mike walked in. "Paul . . . tried . . . to . . . drown . . . me," she complained as he smiled.
"He just didn't understand that you're afraid of deep water," he pulled a chair over and sat down.
"You . . . know . . . that?"
"Yeah, I know all about that. I've got a great idea! Would you like to go outside for a little while?" Her whole face lit up at the idea.
"Oh yes!" She agreed happily.
"Let me go get a wheelchair and I'll be right back," he left, but returned moments later with the chair. He brought the chair over to the bed and lowered the rail. "Put your arm around my neck," he instructed as he lifted her up and placed her in the chair, covering her with a light blanket. He couldn't get over how much weight she'd lost. While she'd always been thin and light, now she was like lifting a feather.
He made a pit stop in the lobby where he bought a couple of sodas and some stuff from the vending machine before wheeling her out of the lobby and out onto the hospital grounds. Finding a shady area under a huge oak tree, he set the brake on the chair before opening her can of soda and placing it in her stronger left hand. "Thanks," she smiled as she sipped the drink.
"Your dietician is probably going to kill me, but which one do you want? Potato or corn chips?" She pointed to the potato chips. "Potato chips, it is."
"This . . . is . . . much . . . better . . . than . . . my . . . real . . . lunch," she grinned.
"The food's not very good, huh?" She made a face as he laughed. "Well, we can't do this every day, but I thought that you needed a break."
"I . . . want . . . to . . . walk."
"I know. And you will as soon as Paul tells me what I need to do. I don't want to hurt you. Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"We have a couple of friends that are really anxious to see you. They've been begging me for weeks now. Would you like to see them?"
"Are . . . they . . . men?"
"Yeah, they're men. They work with me. They miss you and want to see you."
"I . . . don't . . . know."
"Is it Cleve? Are you afraid that he'll catch you talking to them?" He asked as she nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Jill, don't you really think that if Cleve cared, he'd be here by now? He'd at least try to get you out of here."
"May . . . maybe . . . he's . . . in . . . jail," she suggested.
"Or maybe the doctors and nurses are still keeping him from you because they like me better," Mike added.
"Maybe," she agreed.
"Okay, then let's try this. How about if I bring them around to see you for five minutes while I stand outside and act as a lookout for Cleve?"
"You'd . . . do . . . that?"
"Sure, I'd do that. Is it okay?"
"To . . . tomorrow . . . at . . . lunch."
"They can visit tomorrow at lunchtime?" He wanted to make sure that was what she was saying as she nodded. "Okay, I'll let them know. They'll be happy to see you."
It was a nice afternoon. One that Jill didn't want to end, but all too soon she had to face another therapy session with Paul. "I understand that Mike took you outside for lunch," he commented as they worked on her leg exercises.
"I . . . had . . . potato . . . chips . . . and . . . root . . . beer," she smiled as Paul laughed.
"That sounds like a great lunch date to me," he said as she smiled in agreement.
***MJMJMJ***
The next afternoon, the three guys stepped off of the elevator and walked toward Jill's room. "What do we say to her?" Terry asked, suddenly terrified at what they faced when they went into her room.
"Let her decide. I told her that I'd stand out here and act as a lookout. And remember, she's only giving you two five minutes," he reminded them.
The one thing that Mike had neglected to remember was the sight of Terry and Willie in their uniforms. He'd always made a point of changing before his twice daily visits. It wasn't until they got ready to go into her room that it hit him like a hammer. She was going to immediately think that she'd done something wrong.
Her eyes widened when the two police officers entered her room. "Cops? What . . . did . . . I . . . do?"
"You haven't done anything wrong, Jill. We're friends of Mike's. I'm Terry Webster and this is Willie Gillis," Terry introduced them as they slowly walked toward her bed as she continued eying them suspiciously.
"Mike . . . didn't . . . tell . . . me."
"He didn't tell you that we were cops?" Willie asked as she nodded as her eyes went back and forth between the two strange men.
"He . . . said . . . friends."
"We're friends of both of you," Terry explained.
"No," she shook her head. "I . . . don't . . . like . . . cops."
"Why?" Willie glanced at his partner.
"Cleve . . . told . . . me . . . not . . . to."
"And you do everything that he tells you to?" Willie wondered, still unaware of the full story of her relationship with the man who'd almost killed all three of them just a few months ago.
"Yes."
Terry rubbed his eyes wearily. If she was so flipped out by them being cops, what was her reaction going to be when she learned that was married to one? "Have you seen him?" He asked.
"They . . . keep . . . him . . . away. Did . . . you . . . arrest . . . him?" She looked at the two of them with accusing eyes.
"No, we haven't arrested him," Willie answered, as if began to feel as if they were playing some kind of twisted game. Mike hadn't been kidding about his visits to Jill. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life.
"Check . . . records," she ordered them.
"We will," Terry nodded. "I think that our time is about up. Can we come back and visit again?"
"Not . . . dressed . . . like . . . that," she said in disgust.
"We'll wear our street clothes next time. Take it easy, Jill," Terry said as they left the room and over to Mike. "That was exhausting. She thinks that we've arrested Cleve. I thought you told her that Cleve was dead."
"The doctor said that she has problems with short term memory. She'll forget things that we've told her. I didn't even think about you guys going in there in your uniforms. Was she upset?" Mike asked.
"Well, she didn't exactly welcome us with opened arms," Willie said sarcastically.
"William, she wasn't exactly receptive to me at first, either, and I'm married to her. I'm sorry," he apologized to his good friends once again.
"She said that we can visit as long as we're not in uniform. Mike, does she know that you're one of us?" Terry asked.
"No."
"Are you going to tell her?" Willie asked.
"Eventually I'm going to have to. Right now, I'm trying to just get her trust built back up. If I tell her that I'm a cop, I'm going to lose that trust. Like I told you guys, it's all baby steps. But at least she told you that you can come back."
"We have to get back on duty. We'll talk to you tonight," Terry said as they walked to the elevator.
He looked at his watch before going back into Jill's room. He knew that Paul would send one of his assistants around soon to take her to her afternoon therapy session, this time in the pool, which she hated and feared. Since he had the day off, he decided to try to convince Paul to let him stay for her session.
"You . . . didn't . . . tell . . . me . . . that . . . they . . . were . . . cops," she accused when he walked in.
"I'm sorry, but you didn't ask," he said in a light voice as he sat down.
"Not . . . funny."
"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be funny. Would you like me to bring you a tape player and some music from home? I can do that tonight when I come back."
"You . . . don't . . . know . . . what . . . I . . . like."
"Yes I do. You like Van Morrison, The Beatles, some Rolling Stones, The Turtles. Should I continue?"
"Favorite . . . song?"
"Oh, a quiz," he smiled. "Okay, I'm game. Your favorite song is 'My Back Pages' by the Byrds. Actually, you have different favorite songs depending on what kind of mood you're in."
She frowned, wondering how he knew so damn much about her. He kept insisting that they were married, but she still didn't feel that kind of a connection to him. But, then she didn't know how it was supposed to feel to be married. After all, she'd lived with Cleve for more than five years and she also felt absolutely nothing for him except for fear and hatred. Maybe not feeling anything for another person was normal. Sure, Mike was nice and she had come to look forward to his twice daily visits, but she didn't feel as if he was somebody that she'd want to spend the rest of her life with. How had they met? She was almost never allowed out of the house in the Hollywood Hills. Cleve never allowed it. And the only people who ever came to the house were the bikers and she knew all of them. Mike was definitely not one of the bikers.
Mike smiled as he watched her. It was almost as if he could see the wheels turning in her brain as she tried to process information. It made him wonder what she was thinking about. "What're you thinking about?" He finally asked.
"Confused," she frowned.
"What're you confused about? Maybe I can help."
"You. How . . . do . . . you . . . know . . . things . . . about . . . me?"
"We're married, Jill. You learn things about another person when you spend so much time with them. You also know quite a lot about me, you just don't remember any of it right now."
"How . . . can . . . I . . . be . . . mar . . . married . . . to . . . you . . . when . . . I'm . . . not . . . allowed . . . to . . . leave . . . the . . . house?"
She took a deep breath was he sat patiently watching her. He knew that long sentences left her exhausted, which was why she kept her responses and questions short. "I'll tell you what. Let's give things a rest for today. You're getting tired and you still have to go to therapy in about 20 minutes."
"Mike . . . you . . . tell . . . Paul . . . no . . . pool . . . today."
Today was the first time that she'd addressed him by name since before the accident. Hearing his name on her tongue made him smile. "I know that the deep water scares you, but Paul said that you did great in the pool yesterday. Wasn't it easier for you to stand up and move your legs?"
"I . . . don't . . . care," she insisted stubbornly as she shook her head furiously.
"You said that you want to walk outside of therapy, right?" She nodded as he continued. "You're not going to be allowed to do that until you can reach the end of the bars in that pool."
"Okay. You . . . go . . . with . . . me," she decided with stubborn determination.
"Sweetie, Paul's not trying to kill you. He won't let me go to your sessions with you. Besides, my swim trunks are at home," he added as an excuse.
"Bring . . . them . . . to . . . tomorrow."
Whether she saw it or not, Mike could see shades of the Jill that he knew before the accident shining through. The old Jill had all of the men in her life twisted around her little finger. Whether it was Terry, Willie, Lt. Ryker, or especially him, she knew how to get all of them to give in to her. He knew that she thought her therapist Paul would also succumb to her charms. Mike wasn't so sure.
When Paul arrived to take her to therapy, Mike asked to speak to him in the hallway. "Jill's insistent that you're trying to kill her."
"All of my patients think the same thing, Mike. It's five feet of water. It has to be at least that deep for the therapy to work."
"She wants me to go with her."
"No," Paul shook his head. "Therapy is rough. I don't want complaints that I'm being mean to her or that I'm hurting her. I already get enough of that from your wife."
"What if I were to go in an assistant capacity?"
"Mike, I already have an assistant. When do you have to go back to work?"
"I have the day off," he said expectantly.
"Hang around here. She'll be done in the pool at three. I'll show you how to get her on her feet and walking the halls."
When she arrived back in her room shortly after three, her hair was damp from the shower that she'd been given after the pool. Mike was sitting in her room when Paul brought her back in. "Are you going to listen and do exactly as I say?" Paul asked Mike.
"Without question."
"Jill, how do you feel about more therapy?" Paul asked her.
"I . . . thought . . . that . . . I . . . was . . . done . . . for . . . the . . . day."
"I also thought that you wanted to walk with somebody. Meet Mike, your new therapist. You'll probably agree that he's nicer than I am," he smiled as he looked at Mike.
"Every . . . everybody's . . . nicer . . . than . . . you."
"Cute. Listen to me carefully. You're going to walk from this room to the next room and back again. No further. We'll increase your distance in a few days. Mike, you're going to support her on her left side. I know this is her stronger side, which is my point. This forces her to use her right leg to get her where she wants to go. Help her with her robe and slippers and let's do this," Paul instructed as Mike assisted her with her robe and slippers before standing up.
"Easy," Mike cautioned as he slipped his arm around her waist on her left side and helped her to her feet.
"Don't mollycoddle her, Mike. Jill, this is going to work just like the bars. You know how to do this," Paul reminded her as they slowly made their out to the hallway.
It was difficult and exhausting, but with Mike's help, she managed to get from her room to the next room and back again. Of course, it had taken her over half an hour and had left her shaking and exhausted afterward, but she did it. "You did great," Mike praised her as he helped her back into bed and raised the rail.
"To . . . tomorrow . . . we . . . go . . . two . . . doors," she insisted.
"We'll go further when Paul says it's okay. If you keep improving at this rate, you'll be ready to leave here in no time."
"Leave? Home?" She appeared terrified at the prospect.
"Well not yet, but soon. First, they're going to move you to another hospital where you'll continue your rehab, and then when you're ready, they'll let you come home," she still appeared terrified. "What's wrong? Don't you want to leave here?"
"No."
"No? Why?"
"If . . . I . . . fall . . . Cleve . . . won't . . . help . . . me."
"You're right, he probably wouldn't. But I would. Jill, you'd be coming home with me."
"No," she pounded the bed in anger. "I . . . can't . . . go . . . with . . . you!"
"You know what? You've had a long day and you're tired, so we'll talk about this later," he tried to calm her down. "I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get some rest."
She lay back against her pillows after he'd left the room. How could she make him understand that she couldn't go home with him? If she did, and Cleve found them, he'd kill them both.
The next morning, Jill was lying in bed when she heard a light tapping on her door. She sat up, knowing that it was too early for Mike. The door opened and Willie stepped in, holding out a deck of cards. "I called and they said that I could visit before you have to go to therapy. Is that okay?"
"Yes. Where's . . . your . . . friend?"
"He had to work. He said that he'll stop by this afternoon. I brought a deck of cards. Do you remember how to play gin rummy?"
"I'm . . . not . . . stupid!" She made a face. "I . . . don't . . . remember . . . things . . . and . . . some . . . people. I . . . remember . . . games."
"I didn't mean to insult you," he apologized as he rolled her tray table over to the bed before pulling up a chair.
"You'll . . . have . . . to . . . shuffle. My . . . hand . . . doesn't . . . work . . . very . . . well."
"Maybe shuffling would be good exercise," he suggested.
"Maybe," she agreed. "Question?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"How . . . do . . . you . . . know . . . me?"
"Well, I've been friends with Mike since the police academy and I met you through him," he explained.
Jill's face went pale as she focused on just two of the words that Willie had just said. 'Police Academy.' "Mike's . . . a . . . cop?"
He instantly realized that he'd made a huge mistake. 'Mike's going to kill me,' he thought to himself. "Jill, I'm sorry. I thought that Mike had told you yesterday, especially after we visited you."
"Walk" she pushed the tray table away.
"You want me to leave?" He looked confused.
"No. Left . . . side. Walk . . . with . . . me . . . down . . . the . . . hall."
"Should we be doing this?" He seemed skeptical as Jill glared at him.
"I . . . did . . . it . . . yes . . . yesterday."
"Okay. So I need to be on your left side?" He repeated her instructions as she nodded. "I still don't think this is a good idea."
"Just . . . be . . . slow. It . . . takes . . . me . . . a . . . long . . . time."
"Okay."
She was out in the hallway with Willie, when Paul stepped off of the elevators. "What do you think you're doing?" He raged as he stomped over toward them. "Who in the hell is this guy?"
"Willie. Friend. Walking," she stared at her therapist defiantly.
"You do your walking at the end of the day with Mike! Are you going to be too tired for therapy, Jill? Because if you are, I'm sorry! I don't want to hear your excuses today!" He continued to rant at Jill and her companion.
"Are . . . you . . . going . . . to . . . be . . . too . . . tired . . . Paul?"
"Let's go. I don't have time for this!" He shouted as Willie helped her into a wheelchair.
Paul's anger extended into their therapy session, which was rougher than normal, leaving Jill in tears. "Are . . . you . . . going . . . to . . . send . . . me . . . back . . . to . . . Cleve?" She asked through her tears.
"I don't know who Cleve is, Jill. I want to get you ready for Rancho Mirage, maybe by early next week. But I don't want you overdoing it. I know that you want to walk, but what if that guy had injured you? I taught Mike what to do. Your friend didn't have a clue."
"When . . . I . . . go . . . to . . . Rancho . . . Mirage . . . you'll . . . call . . . Cleve? You'll . . . tell . . . him . . . where . . . I . . . am."
"Like I just said, I don't know who Cleve is. Maybe you could clue me in on who he is."
"My . . . old . . . man. I . . . live . . . with . . . him."
"I see. What about Mike? I thought that Mike was your old man."
"No," she shook her head. "Only . . . Cleve."
"Then where is he? Don't you think that if he cared, he'd be hanging around, trying to help you get better? Mike's doing all of that and more. He actually wants to get involved in your therapy. I don't see anybody else hanging around, wanting to jump in. Maybe you should think about cutting Cleve loose. Mike's the real deal, if you ask me."
"No. Cop."
"So, he's a cop. I know a lot of cops and most of them are decent guys."
"He . . . didn't . . . tell . . . me."
"Maybe he thought that you weren't ready to hear it. Did you ever think about that?"
***MJMJMJ***
Willie was waiting in Jill's room when Paul's assistant brought her back. "Paul said she's not to do any more walking until this afternoon when Mike gets here."
"Okay," Willie agreed as the assistant put Jill in her bed and covered her with the sheet and blanket.
"You . . . waited," she said after the assistant left the room.
"I thought that we could still play cards."
"Okay," she smiled.
The two of them were playing a heated game of gin rummy when Mike arrived. Her eyes didn't light up as they had been lately when he came to visit. He instantly knew that something was wrong. "Uh Willie, can I talk to you for a minute?" Mike stepped away from her door as Willie came outside. "She knows that I'm a cop, doesn't she?"
"Mike, it was an accident. She asked me how I knew her and I made a comment about the academy. I'm sorry."
"Well, there's not anything that I can do about it now."
"I am sorry."
"I know. What were you two doing?"
"Playing gin rummy. I'll leave the cards in case she gets bored. I'm going to go and leave you two alone. I'll talk to you later."
"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," Mike apologized when he went back into her room.
"Well . . . you . . . should . . . have."
"I know," he agreed. "Have you had lunch?"
"Not . . . hungry."
"Are you that mad at me?"
"No. Not . . . at . . . you. I . . . don't . . . want . . . to . . . go . . . to . . . that . . . other . . . place."
"What other place? Rancho Mirage?" She nodded. "Why?"
"I . . . can't . . . see . . . you. They'll . . . let . . . Cleve . . . know . . . where . . . I . . . am."
"You're afraid that if you go to Rancho Mirage, somebody there will call Cleve and tell him where to find you?" She looked at him with tears in her eyes as he tried to think of what to tell her.
He was still trying to come up with a fix when she suddenly burst into tears. Not knowing what to do, at first, he naturally did what he'd always done in situations like this out of habit. He simply walked over and pulled her into his arms and held her close to his chest. At first she resisted his touch, but she finally buried her face into his chest like she always did as she clutched as his shirt with her good hand. He held her like that as the tears finally slowed down to sniffles. "I'm . . . sorry," she sniffled as he handed her a tissue.
"What're you sorry for? I want you to listen to me. He's not going to find you. Nobody's going to let that happen."
"He . . . hits . . . me."
"I know," he sat on the edge of her bed as she stared at him. "I know all of the things that he's done to you. He's not going to do those things anymore," he vowed to her.
"You . . . know . . . every . . . everything?" She asked as she began to cry again.
"Jill, it's okay. We don't need to talk about any of that now. Willie said that he left the cards for you. Why don't we play before they bring your lunch and I'll help you eat?"
"Paul . . . got . . . mad . . . at . . . me . . . this . . . morning," she admitted as he shuffled the cards and dealt them out.
"Why'd he get mad at you?"
"Will . . . Willie . . . got . . . me . . . out . . . of . . . bed."
"Now do you think that was a good idea?"
"It . . . seemed . . . like . . . one . . . at . . . the . . . time," she gave him a grin as he couldn't help but grin back.
After he helped her eat lunch, she announced that she was tired. Mike had to get back to work soon, anyway, but he wanted to talk to Paul first. He found the therapist in the pool area setting up for Jill's afternoon session. "Can I talk to you for a few minutes?" Mike asked as he crouched by the pool.
"Your wife did something very foolish this morning."
"I know, she told me. I wanted to ask you about the rehabilitation hospital. Does she have to go there? If I work with her, can't I just take her home?" Paul looked at him.
"Do you live in a house or an apartment?"
"An apartment."
"On the ground level?"
"No, the second floor."
"Jill can't handle stairs, Mike. She'll like Rancho Mirage. It's a lot nicer than this place."
"What if I were to hire somebody to work with her on a one on one basis?"
"Again, it's too difficult in an apartment with stairs. I need to ask you something. She keeps mentioning this Cleve person. Who is he and why is he never here?"
"She used to live with him. He was killed by the police a few months ago. I've told her that he's dead, but she doesn't remember. She thinks that he's still alive and that he's going to come after her."
"So, he was abusive?" Paul guessed.
"Yeah."
"That explains the vibes that I've been getting from her when she talks about him. She's obviously scared to death of him."
"When are you going to move her?"
"Probably Monday or Tuesday of next week."
"I guess that I'll get her prepared mentally, then," Mike sighed in resignation.
In her sleep, Jill clearly saw a house that she'd never seen before. It was on a large lake with a dock. She could even see the ducks swimming on the lake. It was so real that she knew that it couldn't possibly be a dream. She opened her eyes just as Mike walked back into the room. "I . . . was . . . dreaming."
"Was it a bad dream?" He asked, concerned about her propensity for nightmares.
"I . . . saw . . . this . . . house. There . . . was . . . a . . . lake. A . . . big . . . window. It . . . felt . . . like . . . I've . . . been . . . there . . . before."
Mike couldn't believe it. She was clearly describing Lt. Ryker's cottage at the lake. She'd been there several months before after someone had made a series of attempts on the lieutenant's life. Jill herself had almost been killed after the assassin had planted a bomb in Ryker's car. "You have been there. It was several months ago. You were there with one of my bosses."
"Why?"
"It's a long story."
"Cleve . . . wouldn't . . . find . . . me . . . there. Right?"
"No, it's out in the country. He wouldn't be able to find you."
"Good. I'll . . . go . . . there," she said decisively.
He sat back, wondering if it would work. He also wondered if Lt. Ryker would go for it. After all, this was his home that they were talking about. It was a small house, but most importantly, it was a single story dwelling. That meant no stairs. He made a mental note to talk to Paul and Lt. Ryker, but he was almost positive that it could work.
A/N: Sorry that this chapter ran on so long, but from now on they're all going to be long chapters.