Chapter 7

Morning light streaming in from a part in the curtains fell across the bed. I looked to my side -- Cindy was gone. It was my Saturday but Cindy's Monday and I knew she would have to get ready for work. Looking up I saw the door to the bathroom was shut. Shortly it opened and she emerged, nude, and climbed back into bed. "I dealt with my bladder before it became an issue," she said.

"Let's see how that sparkler looks in daylight," I replied, took her hand and held it under the sunbeam. "Wow -- it'll put your eye out."

"It's a very pretty stone," she replied. "Thank you."

I rotated her wrist in the sunlight and noticed something I hadn't seen before. "Cindy..."

"What?"

I pointed to some tiny scars along a prominent vein in the back of her hand. "I hadn't noticed these. They look like tracks ... from injecting drugs."

She regarded me with parted lips and I could see panic wash over her. "It's from the I.V. I had during surgery," she stammered.

"All of them? So many?" She snatched her hand from me. I grasped her wrist.

"Let go of me!" She wrestled it from me.

"Show me the inside of your elbow."

"Why?"

"I want to look at it." She stretched out her right arm and ran my finger along the vein in the inside of her elbow. "I thought they were freckles or something ... but in this light ... Are these from your wild child days?"

"I thought you said you weren't interested in knowing about those days," she retorted.

"This is different, Cindy. If you were injecting drugs..." She threw off the covers and dashed out of the bedroom. "Cindy..."

I followed her and found her kneeling on the sofa, her arms draped over the back of it. "We had an agreement about my past," she said, her voice agitated.

"Cindy ... Intravenous drug use is how folks contract HIV."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Her eyes brimmed. "I've been tested. I'm clean. Do you think I wouldn't tell you if it were otherwise?"

"What drugs?" I asked.

"Opiates ... heroin, mainly."

"Heroin?" I regarded her -- the pulse point in her neck was throbbing.

"I've been clean for five years, Nick -- that's for four and a half years before you and I even met!"

"You've never had a relapse?"

"Never. That part of my life is behind me."

I approached to embrace her but she pulled away. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

"No."

I knelt beside her and placed my hand on her back. "I am sorry, Babe. You're right -- I should've trusted you."

"Yes, you should've."

"Forgive me?" I asked.

Cindy regarded me through narrowed eyes. "I dunno..."

"I would like you to tell me about it. How much or how little detail is up to you."

She drew in a deep breath. "I had dropped out of high school and was hanging out with a guy. He was my supplier and got me hooked. Then, one day I OD'ed. The state had a Good Samaritan law -- anyone could report an overdose without worrying about the cops. He called 911. The first responder was a female EMT ... her name is Laura. She gave me a dose of naloxone and it brought me right around. That scared me, Nick. It scared the shit out of me."

"So you decided to quit? Go into rehab?"

"No. When the other EMTs came in with the stretcher and other gear I was up and around ... lucid. Laura covered for me -- told them I was okay and that I didn't need any more attention. They started taking the equipment back to the truck. Laura stayed behind ... she gave me her card. Laura is a nurse who's also a volunteer EMT. She told me she lost a niece to an overdose ... and that I looked like her. She told me there was no need to involve the authorities -- this time -- and that I should call her and set up an appointment ... otherwise, next time she would call the cops."

"You called her?"

Cindy nodded. "She took me in ... offered her home to me ... and with her help I got clean going cold turkey."

"So that's how you were able to give me the support you did when I went off the oxy -- you went through it, too. You knew what it felt like."

"I don't want to diminish what you went through, Nick ... but I can assure you that what I experienced was ten time worse." She sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes. "There! Now you know. Happy?"

"I..."

"It probably changes how you feel about me." She grasped the ring and began pulling it off her finger. "If you want this back ... I understand completely."

"Don't be ridiculous." I pushed the ring firmly past her second knuckle. "You're right -- it does change how I feel about you. To go through that sort of crucible and emerge as fine a woman as you are ... it's nothing short of remarkable. I admire you even more."

She looked up at me. "Really?"

"Really."

"Are you sure? Hearing it means a lot. You don't know how much self-loathing..."

I kissed her lips. "You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met and I'm so lucky to have you." Cindy smiled and we kissed again. "Forgive me, now?"

"You're forgiven ... this time." We kissed again. "I can't ever stay angry with you for long," she replied.

"Have you kept in touch with Laura?"

"She's like a mom to me. It's because of her I became a nurse. She helped me get my GED and helped me get into nursing school. She helped me reconcile with my real mother. She's my savior, Nick. I love her more than anyone in my life ... except you."

"I want to meet her. If she's that important to you then she's important to me. To answer your question -- I am happy to know this. It's part of what formed you, Cindy. Any time you want to share your past ... I guarantee there's nothing you can tell me that'll make me feel poorly of you."

"Nothing? Are you sure?"

I kissed her lips. "I'm positive. And -- I didn't hear a word you said."

"Understood. Nick -- I love you so much..."

"Come back to bed?"

She looked up at the clock on the wall. "I can't. I need to start my shower now or my hair won't be dry before I need to go to work."

"I can make some breakfast ... or, lunch. What's your preference?"

"I dunno ... brunch?"

"We have some English muffins and ham. I can make eggs Benedict."

"We don't have Hollandaise sauce," she replied.

"I can make a fair approximation of Hollandaise sauce with what we do have."

Cindy headed into the bathroom and I heard the shower running. I slipped into my robe and began boiling water to poach eggs.

She approached me in her short robe pulling her fingers through her wet hair. I set a plate before her and poured two cups of coffee.

"This is very good," she said. "How did you make the sauce?"

"My secret," I replied.

She reached across the table and took my hand. "There was something I was going to tell you this morning, but our talk of my wild child days drove it from my mind. It's big news."

"You got that first shift job."

She shook her head. "I'm giving my notice."

"You're quitting? Cindy -- you love that job."

"Yes, I'm quitting. The gastro-enterologist who performed my appendectomy wants me to work in his office. One of his nurses quit and he remembered me from my surgery and made me an offer. His office is in the professional building attached to the hospital."

"It's first-shift," I remarked. "It has to be first-shift."

"It's nine-to-five, Monday through Friday," she replied with a broad smile.

"That's wonderful news," I replied. "We'll need to celebrate. We'll come up with something nice."

"Let's celebrate the weekend before I start."

"Agreed. Let's plan something."

Cindy sat beside me as we drove home after dinner at Farley's Velvet Room. I placed my hand on her knee and she caressed my forearm. "So, which gives you a bigger thrill," I asked her. "Giving an enema or receiving one?"

"That depends on the recipient," she replied.

"Suppose your patient is yours truly?"

"Hmm ... Hard to say. A big part of my enjoyment giving enemas to you is how you respond to them. I can feel how they arouse you..."

"Arousing your partner is arousing in itself," I remarked. "But you were plenty aroused from the enemas I gave you last night."

Cindy squeezed my knee. "Mmm ... Last night was some of our best sex ever. I woke up still glowing. What made last night really special was how you planned it all ahead. I felt the love flowing."

"You haven't told me what you've planned for tonight," I said.

"Be surprised."

"Maybe I have a bit of a surprise myself." I pulled into my garage and we stepped into the condo.

Cindy headed for the master bedroom and I followed her. The I.V. stand was set up near the bed with the clear silicone reservoir hanging from it and a bath towel spread on the bed. She headed toward the closet. "I'll be just a minute," she said and disappeared inside. In the meantime I stripped naked and into a flannel, knee-length robe.

She emerged from the closet in her sexy nurse costume with the white miniskirt, midriff-baring top, white stockings and little nurse's cap. We embraced and kissed.

"Feels like something's coming between us," she remarked and pressed her palm against my already hard member.

"I had a tingle all evening anticipating this very event," I replied.

"Anticipation is good." She untied the belt of my robe and slid it off my shoulders. I lay on the towel on my left side and drew up my knees.

What followed were the usual preliminaries -- a hot soapsuds enema followed by a large-volume, clear-water rinse.

I approached her in my robe and we embraced. "Feeling cleaned out?" she asked.

"As ever. Feeling horny?"

"As ever," she replied. "Now, what is this something special?"

"I thought we'd like to try this," I said sheepishly and handed Cindy a cardboard box.

She slipped off the cover and picked up a three-foot long, slender tube made of translucent silicone. "A colon tube? Where did you get this?"

"Off the web," I replied.

She let out a sigh. "I'm not a big fan of these, Nick. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Why not? The blurb on the website said it's the ultimate penetration."

"If you can get it inserted, I suppose. The problem is, you can't put one of these into an empty colon -- it needs to be inflated with water to open channels and allow it to be inserted. If your colon needs to be full, what's the point? Unless a patient has some peculiar condition that indicates using one of these ... Well, you can get just as good results with a simple rectal nozzle. How much did this cost you?"

"About twenty bucks."

"I wish you had consulted me before spending your money." I put the cover on the box and began placing it in the tackle box containing the other nozzles and equipment. "Oh, Nick..." Cindy approached me and caressed my cheek. "I could see the crest fall. If you want to try it, we can try it -- so long as you understand these things are difficult to use and I think over-rated."

"Understood," I replied. "Have you ever used one?"

"I tried inserting one once -- I don't think I got it in ten inches. I think you need a combination of luck and the right anatomy."

"I mean ... have you ever used one on a patient?"

"No," she replied. "I took the class but I've never had the opportunity to use one in the field."

"The website said this one is safe and effective."

Cindy examined it. "Closed end ... It's probably safe enough. I don't see how you could accidentally puncture anything with it." She flexed the tube. "It's soft enough to go around corners but stiff enough not to fold back on itself. As for effective -- that remains to be seen. What else have you got in that box?" She opened the lid to the tackle box and moved items around. "You must be an impulse buyer when you visit those alt-med sites..." She retrieved a red bulb. "A Higginson's syringe?"

"That's a pretty slick device," I remarked. "It has one-way valves so if you squeeze it, it squirts from one end and if you release it, it sucks from the other."

"I know how a Higginson's bulb works," she retorted. "Hmm..."

"Hmm what?"

"I have an idea ... I think we can put something together. All right -- we'll try the colon tube."

I watched as Cindy gathered items from the tackle box -- the Higginson's bulb, some lengths of hose and a hose clamp. These she carried to the bathroom and began running hot water in the sink to warm it. From the bedroom she brought the clear reservoir. This she filled with quite warm water, up to the top, flushed air from the hose and secured the clamp, leaving off the nozzle. She ran more warm water into a plastic pitcher. From a cabinet she produced a small cardboard box.