Verda Foster - Graceful Waters

"I don't know," Carey said, reaching for the nurse button. "It's not good, but it could have been much worse. They had to remove it."

Grace closed her eyes. "That really doesn't sound good. What does the spleen do?"

"Helps fight infections and clean the blood," Carey said. "They're giving you antibiotics through the IV." She pointed at the small bag piggybacked to the larger bag of fluids.

"Carey?" Her voice sounded small and scared, making Carey want to take the young woman in her arms and protect her from harm. "Can I live without a spleen?"

"Yes," Carey said, rubbing her thumb over the back of Grace's hand. "The doctor said you'd be more susceptible to infections but after a while your other organs will compensate and that problem will be minimal." She reluctantly released Grace's hand and moved out of the way as the nurse came in. "She wants some water."

"I'll check her chart," the nurse said, glancing at the monitor mounted on the wall. "Miss Waters, how are you feeling?"

"Tired," Grace said. "Everything hurts."

"I'll check to see what pain medicines you're allowed," the nurse said, picking up the clipboard hooked to the foot of the bed. "I'll let the doctor know you're awake as well."

Carey kept her vigil by Grace’s side throughout the rest of the night and into the next morning, getting up only to get more coffee and to use the restroom. It was now approaching noon and the lack of sleep was catching up to her as the yawns became more frequent. Still, any movement brought Carey to full alertness. "Shh, easy now," Carey said, gently touching Grace's forehead as the teen groaned in pain.

"Hurts.”

"I know," Carey said. "They said the pain would come and go for a little while."

"Tell it to go."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Grace opened her eyes and tried to sit up.

"Easy," Carey said, pressing on Grace's shoulder to get her to lie back down. "Relax. I'll stay for a while longer."

"Promise?"

"I promise." She turned her head at the sound of people entering the room.

"You'll do anything to get out of one of Spinnaker's tests, won't you?" a thin blond man said, setting a small basket of flowers on the tray. He stopped when he saw Carey, his eyes widening. "Ohmigod! It's you!" He reached out and took Carey's hand in both of his, shaking it rapidly. "I am so pleased to finally meet you. I'm sorry, I'm Tom and this is my boyfriend, Stuart." He turned to the older man standing next to him. "Stuart, this is the one and only Carey."

Carey looked at Grace, who was blushing furiously. "What did you tell them about me?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Grace said, trying to sound innocent and failing miserably. "Tom, don't you say a word."

"You finally let me meet her and you expect me to not speak to her?" He made a tsking sound. "Forgive her," he said. "I try, but you know these young dykes. You just can't tell them a thing about manners."

"Stuart Masterson," the older man said, holding out his hand. Carey guessed him to be in his early forties, gray dominating what was left of his short curly hair.

"Hi," she said as they shook hands.

"So, Carey, did she show you her stitches yet?" Tom asked, earning a smack on the arm from his lover. "Ow. Don't hit me. I didn't ask if she showed her the tattoo, did I?" His eyes widened. "Oops."

"Tattoo?" Carey gave Grace a stern look. "Don't give me the deer in the headlights look," she said. "Where is it, what is it, and does your father know about it?"

Grace looked around her to Tom. "You know when I get out of here I'm going to kill you, right?"

"Don't worry," Stuart said, slapping his hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'll kill him for you."

"Grace," Carey tapped her nails on the bed rail. "I'm waiting."

"Um...it's a heart with a double woman's symbol in the middle," Grace said, looking down at her gown. "Do you know how many stitches I got, or if they were staples?"

"I didn't ask," Carey said. "And you didn't answer the rest of my question."

"Oh, Tommy boy, you are in big trouble," Stuart said.

"It's um..." Grace blushed all the more and crooked her finger. Carey leaned closer. "Let's just say I'd love to show it to you but the boys would have to leave the room first," she whispered.

Carey swallowed as her mind raced with possibilities. "I think we'll let this one drop for now."

"Good idea," Grace said. "The pain is coming back."

"I think you're giving me an excuse," Carey said.

"If you really want to see it," Grace offered, reaching for the neck of her gown.

"No, no, that's quite all right," Carey said, giving the teen a look for teasing her. "You behave," she whispered so the men would not hear.

"I'll be good, I promise."

"I've heard that one before," Carey said, though she settled back down in the chair.

"So," Tom said, deciding it was safe to approach his bedridden friend. "Spinnaker said you can do a make-up after you get out."

"Thanks," Grace said. "I'm still going to kill you, though." She reached for Carey's hand, intertwining their fingers. "Can you stay a while?" she asked.

"A little while longer," Carey said, rubbing her thumb absently over the back of Grace's hand. I'm going to owe Sue big time for this. “Do you want some water?"

Grace swallowed and licked her lips. "Please."

Carey went to reach for the pitcher. "Um, Grace? You have to let go." She wiggled their linked hands.

"Oh yeah, like that will happen," Tom said.

"I don't want to," Grace said as she let go and tried to sit up.

"Stay," Carey said. "I'll help you." She poured a small amount of water into the plastic cup, then added a bendable straw. "Do you want me to raise the bed or help you sit up a little bit?"

"Help," Grace and Tom said at the same time.

"Thomas Michael, stop it," Stuart reprimanded. "You're embarrassing Grace."

Carey gave Grace a soft smile. "Nice and slow, all right?" she said, putting her right hand behind the blonde head. "That's it, easy." She waited until Grace had drunk her fill, then helped her settle back down.

"Thanks."

Carey indulged herself, taking a moment to smooth Grace's ruffled hair and ignoring the smirk on Tom's face. She watched as her young friend's eyes closed for a moment, then slowly opened again. "You need your rest."

Grace nodded. "I am getting tired, but I'm afraid if I go to sleep, you'll be gone when I wake up."

Carey leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'll be here, I promise. Now close your eyes."

"Yes, sweet thing, you close those eyes. Stuart and I will be back tomorrow. We don't want to tire you out." He turned to Carey. "And you really don't know how glad I am to meet you. I was beginning to wonder if you were just a figment of her imagination."

"Tom..."

"Okay, okay. We're leaving before I put my foot in my mouth again."

He blew Grace a kiss, then grabbed his lover's hand and dragged him out the door.

"Your friends are nice."

"Yeah, they are. I'm glad you got to meet them." Grace's eyes closed for a moment. "I'm glad you're here," she said as her eyelids fluttered. She forced them open in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

Carey reached over with the tips of her fingers and gently closed Grace’s eyes. "Sleep."

A tired smile curled the teen’s lip. "Yes, ma'am."

Carey sat and watched as Grace's breathing slowed and sleep claimed her. This scare had really shaken her. It forced her to accept how important the young woman was to her. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you. Grace. She closed her eyes and sighed. A smile came to her face as she thought of Tom's reaction when he met her.

"What have you been telling them about me, young lady?" she whispered softly as she reached over and stroked Grace's cheek.

Grace closed her suitcase and looked around to see if she had forgotten anything. It had seemed to take forever for spring break to arrive. It was hard to believe that it was less than two months until graduation.

"Grace, dear, your friend is here to pick you up."

"Thanks, Mrs. Somers," Grace said, as she practically ran down the stairs, suitcase and laptop in hand. "I'm ready."

"Relax," Carey said, smiling at the young woman's exuberance. "I would have waited." She held out her hand to take the suitcase, noting Grace had grown even more beautiful in the last few months. The only visible reminder of the accident was a tiny scar on the edge of her chin. "Turn around and let me get a better look at the new haircut."

"You like?" Grace said, handing her the suitcase and spinning around in a circle.

"It looks great."

Grace decided she could wait no longer and wrapped her arms around the older woman's waist, mindful not to drop the laptop. "I've missed you so much," she said, inhaling deeply.

Carey opened the oven, then bent over to check the potatoes. A soft hand rested on the small of her back. "Few more minutes," she said, expecting Grace to remove her hand.

"Smells wonderful," Grace said.

Carey stood up, finding herself enveloped in the young woman's arms. "Grace."

"I've missed you so much," Grace said, resting her head on Carey's chest. "You said we had a few minutes."

"You can't behave for a few minutes," Carey said, though she let her arms hang loosely around Grace's shoulders. "I'm surprised you've lasted this long." She glanced at her watch. "Must be at least, oh, ten or fifteen minutes since you got a hug."

"It's been over an hour," Grace said. "Be nice and I’ll show you my tattoo."

"You still haven't told me where it is," Carey said.

"Where do you think it is?"

"I have no idea," Carey said, refusing to guess and mention any body parts.

"You have ideas," Grace said. "You just don't want to say them."

"You're right," Carey said. "Stop teasing me."

Grace hugged tightly, then stepped back. "Okay, since you don't wanna guess, I'll have to show you." She walked over to the table and pulled out a chair.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Carey protested.

"Instead of calling you Scary, they should have called you Scaredy, as in scaredy cat." She removed her right sock and put her foot on the chair, turning so Carey could see her ankle. "I didn't find out until afterwards that it hurts more when you have it done near the bone. Next

time I'll get it done on my ass, there's enough padding there."

Carey knelt down to get a better look at the tattoo. "Pretty," she said, tempted to trace the heart with her finger. "What prompted you to get this?"

"Pure spur of the moment kinda stuff," Grace said, sitting down and putting her sock back on. "Tom, Stuart, and I were walking back from a bistro when we saw the tattoo parlor. One thing led to another and I got this."

"And you want more?"

"Maybe," Grace said. "Would it bother you if I did?"

"I think tattoos are nice...on other people," Carey said. "It's your body, but remember, once you get one, it's there for life."

"You didn't answer my question," Grace said. “I know you were surprised, but I can't tell if it bothers you or not."

"How I feel about it shouldn't matter."

Grace growled in frustration and went into the living room. "Forget it."

Carey looked at the clock, frowning at the time. Sleep absolutely refused to come to her. She thought about reading but her glasses were in the other room. Just knowing that Grace was out there asleep on her couch was driving her crazy. Not wanting to get up and admit total defeat, she turned on the lamp and opened the nightstand drawer. There, on top of other letters, was the most recent one from Grace. She reached into the envelope and pulled out the snapshot that had been sent with the letter. Her hair definitely looks better short, she thought to herself as she looked at the picture. It had been taken at a party in someone’s back yard; arms and backs of other people caught on the outer edges of the photo. Grace was laying on a chaise lounge, her eyes closed and her nipples showing prominently through the sheer material of the bright blue bathing suit. You are such a tease, Carey thought, setting the photo on the nightstand. "Oh, Grace, what am I going to do with you?" Lay her down and make a woman out of her, the voice inside said. I can't do that, she answered herself. She's nineteen. I'm thirty-one. Still, there was no denying the attraction, the desire that existed when she thought of what was beneath that bathing suit. Damn it, Grace. Why do you do this to me? Closing her eyes, Carey reached into her pajama bottoms, knowing sleep would come no other way.