Chapter 2

John Stefanovitch was helping Norma with the shopping, which, for the most part consisted in carrying the bags. There were some things that were bugging him, but he wasn't sure if he should ask. Finally, he gave in to the urge.

"Norma, Mrs. Tandy has been in some kind of accident, hasn't she?"

A wide smile split Norma's face, and her head tilted to one side.

"Does she look like someone who has not been in an accident?"

She remained silent for a while, then said:

"It was a car crash."

"Her husband ... what happened to him?"

"You presume he had been with her," she said and raised her eyebrow slightly, " ... and you are right about that."

"Was he killed?"

"No, he recovered surprisingly quickly."

"I haven't seen him."

"He doesn't even visit her anymore," Norma said, her smile fading for a moment.

"Why?"

"Because she is not fuckable anymore."

"Nice way to put it, Norma."

"I heard him saying this, "she explained calmly, then added with a broad smile," well, is your curiosity satisfied?"

John winked at her and nodded.

On the way back, he ventured another question:

"How long has she been in that bed?"

"Nearly three mouths."

"Wow. I hope she will get better soon."

"No one knows for sure."

"What's the problem?"

"John, let's stop talking about her."

"I have to see my mother," Norma asked, "She called and said she was sick. Could you keep an eye on Mrs. Tandy for a while?"

"Ok," John said.

"I will be back as soon as possible."

"No problem."

He followed the nurse into the house, feeling surprisingly nervous and tense. Norma let him into her room, then turned and left.

Mrs. Tandy didn't look much different than the last time he had seen her. Plastered body, resting in a complicated maze of ropes, metal bars, and weights; bare flesh showing here and there. The only difference was that her casted left foot was lowered slightly.

John looked at the mirror placed before her face and saw that her eyes were closed. Her left arm was hanging limply, her motionless fingers almost touching the floor. She was obviously sleeping.

He sat on the chair, hoping that it would not creak. It didn't. His mind was in turmoil and he tried to direct his thoughts away from the injured woman. Unsuccessfully. He could not stop thinking about her. Looking at her while she was sleeping felt strangely awkward. It was as if he was intruding on something very private.

Her right foot was small but fleshy, as if it had no bones. Her sole was pinkish in color and was devoid of any blemishes. Compared to it, the plaster encasing her entire leg was a sheer white monster. The cast followed the curve of her right hip, then dipped at the small of her back. From his point of view, he could see the cleavage between her buttocks and the padded edge of the portion of the cast that hugged her slim waist.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Tandy asked in a sweet drowsy voice.

John could feel the redness creeping up his face and look at the floor to avoid her green eyes.

"Norma's mother is sick. She asked me to stay with you for a while."

"When did she left?"

"About half an hour ago."

She yawned with difficulty, due to the device around her neck, then blinked thoughtfully.

"John, will you give me a ride?"

"Now?"

"Now."

"But in your condition..."

"I am fine. There is no problem at all. Believe me! You have to remove some screws and help me stand up. Of course, I won't be able to walk, but I am not heavy, even with the cast..."

"Abby, you'll have to talk to the nurse about that."

"Pleeeaaase, I will pay you as much as you want."

"No, Abby," John said, then got up and went to the window.

She remained silent for a moment, nervously running her hand through her hair. Then, she started to cry pitifully.

"Abby, please don't do that."

John knelt beside her and squeezed her hand gently. Her teary eyes fixed innocently on him. He inhaled the smell of her skin, sweet and pleasant, intoxicating.

"I hate to admit it, but you are right," she said and squeezed his hand back.

John Stefanovitch felt lightheaded with relief.