Chapter 9

Jessica had seen the look on her mother's face. The first thing she did was rush out of the house, with my clothes in the laundry basket. Theresa had been too stunned to stop her.

"Bathing is one thing that could be adjusted to when I was home," Theresa said with a frown. "You needing to relieve yourself isn't exactly the same. I might expect you could hold it for six hours if you tried, but when I work a twelve-hour shift ... John..."

"Let's think about the mechanics. You're a nurse. Is there a way to do this?"

That turned the focus of her thoughts, from her daughter having to see me, to possible options.

"I know you're not wanting to think about Jessica seeing me, but in reality, how sexy is it to wipe someone?"

Theresa snorted, and said, "A lot of times it's pretty disgusting."

"Right. I think that Jessica may well think she's getting something ... ah ... well..."

"I know what you're trying to say. She thinks she's going to look at a man and see his..."

"Right, and what she gets is..."

"A load of shit," Theresa said, not being able to laugh.

"I'm not incapacitated. I can pee just fine," I said.

"That's true. She doesn't even need to position the bedpan. You can do that."

"She'd just have to wipe me. Frankly I don't think that is going to be much fun for her."

Theresa nodded and said, "I can agree on that. It just bothers me that she'll see your ... testicles."

"You could say 'balls, ' you know."

"I could, but I'd rather not."

"Is there any way to prevent that?" I asked.

Theresa was silent for a minute. Then she looked me in the eyes, and said, "You are being almost as ... I'm not sure. It feels like a 'want for this to work' from you. Not as pushy as Jessica, but close."

I wondered if she saw my surprise. 'Did she really know? No, stop this, John.'

"Are you saying that, because I'm trying to be courteous and you're not used to it from a man? If I didn't try to help, even people I didn't know, I wouldn't be here right now."

A flash of guilt ran across Theresa's face. I felt bad for pushing those buttons ... well, maybe a little.

Jessica opened the door. I looked at her, wondering if she had been waiting at the door for the right time.

"Forgot the detergent," she said.

She was out the door seconds later.

"Do you see what I mean?" Theresa said. "She's relentless."

I couldn't help myself.

"Where does she get that trait from?"

Theresa gave me a look, but didn't answer the question verbally.

Jessica came back in. She didn't say a word, walking past us, on her way to the kitchen.

I heard a few pans bang around. In a soft voice, so it wouldn't carry, I asked, "Is she a good cook?"

Theresa started to laugh, and said in a loud voice, "He wants to know if you know how to cook."