When all he does is stare at me expectantly I give up trying to protect him from my own likely unneeded embarrassment. Giving him a pointed look, I say, “Oh my God, Ren. I need to use thebathroom.”
“I’ll call the nurse.”
34
A SHOW
REN
Since my apartmentwas still vacant, Cassidy opted to stay there after her discharge from the hospital. No stairs, conveniently located near the hospital and her favorite restaurants were the deciding factors for her. I would’ve stayed absolutely anywhere she wanted, so I happily helped coordinate the place being turned livable in record time, and for some of our stuff to be brought over to give it some comforting touches.
Well, my mother and Issa drove that last part, but it was my idea.
She’s been a well of emotions over the past few weeks, and I can’t say I’ve been any better at some points. I did try to hide it from her at first, but all it took was one heartfelt conversation from her for me to drop that act in a hurry. She doesn’t want a man who’s going to sit back and watch her grieve. She needs a man who’ll get down on the floor with her and lay bare the ugliness that loss creates. A man who will then get up with her, shake it all off, and keep moving.
We make a good team, most of the time. When she’s not being too stubborn to ask for help, and when I’m not being so stubborn that I refuse to believe she doesn’t need my help.
“Ren,” Cassidy calls from the bedroom. “Could you come help me, please?”
Considering she hasn’t asked me to help her dress for a while now, I immediately stop what I’m doing and head for the bedroom. When I arrive I find it empty, but then she says from the bathroom, “In here.”
She’s standing in the middle of the large room, her hands gripped in front of her almost nervously so I lean against the doorjamb nonchalantly and ask, “Whatcha need?”
Looking rather sheepish she says, “Would you mind helping me wash my hair?”
“I will help you wash anything you want,” I reply without hesitation.
She smiles almost shyly and I push off the doorjamb, walking over to her, where I drop a kiss on her forehead. She sighs and relaxes visibly so I move to the large walk-in shower and start flipping dials.
The only renovation I made to this apartment when I moved in was the bathroom. Initially it was smaller but I did a complete demolition and ended up combining the bathroom with the walk-in closet. Being an athlete who wasn’t getting any younger, I wanted all the bells and whistles that would aid in recovery and I found it to be worth every penny in the long run.
Turning back to Cassidy I motion for her to enter the shower.
“Get comfortable and I’ll be right there.”
She removes her robe, hanging it rather primly from the hook on the wall. And then with that same shy smile she shuffles toward the shower, stepping inside gingerly. Having seen all sorts of sides of Cassidy, this is a new one. I’m sure it’s acombination of everything that’s happened but also the fact that this will be the first time in weeks we’ve been naked together.
I pull my shirt over my head, toss it on the counter. Then I go to remove my pants and my underwear and then think twice about it and only remove my pants. My socks end up tangled in the heap on the floor and then I grab some extra towels to make sure they’re nearby before joining her in the shower.
She has strategically placed herself on the bench beneath the steady stream of warm water. Never having had long hair, I can only imagine what a pain it is to wash it properly. And then also adding to it the complication of having surgery, I’m surprised she didn’t ask me sooner.
Her eyes are closed, her head tipped back under the gentle flow of the water. Water streams along her shoulders, down over her collarbone, and over her breasts. Not wanting to get caught staring, I quickly move behind her, standing to the side so I’m not interfering with the flow of water. “Shall we shampoo and condition?”
One of her shoulders lifts slightly as she says, “You don’t have to.”
“Well, we’re here, we may as well do the job right.”
Smiling, she responds, “Whatever you want,babe.”
I fiddle with the controls in the shower, turning off the stream of water and turning up the steam. Gentle heat immediately swirls around us as I pick up her bottle of shampoo, squirting what is likely an obnoxious amount into my hand and then putting the bottle back onto the shelf. I rub my hands together and then eye the top of her head as I contemplate the best plan of attack here.
As if she senses my hesitation she laughs lightly. “Just slap it in there however.”
Wishing I’d thought this through beforehand, I attempt to get more of the shampoo onto my fingers than my palms, andthen I take my fingertips and delve them into the hair at the top of her head. I manage to scoop up a bit more, depositing what I can on her scalp toward the back and I attempt to massage it in, feeling completely ridiculous for how difficult I’m finding the rather mundane task of washing someone’s hair. The shampoo starts to lather in her scalp and then I eye it speculatively before picking up the shampoo bottle and squirting a little bit more into my hand. I meticulously dab shampoo in the spots that look like they have no soap, and then go back to massaging it all together again.
“Did you use the whole bottle?”
Frowning, I grip her head in both of my hands and then pull her head back slightly so she’s looking up at me with those humor filled eyes. “Don’t judge. It’s not like I’ve spent a lot of time washing hair that’s not my own.”
