Darkness Series
Part 5: Out of the Darkness...

Nicole picked up the two plates and carried them into the kitchen as Jarod resettled himself, an expectant look on his face.

 

"What did you make for dessert?"

 

"Oh, I thought we'd go without tonight." Nicole glanced over her shoulder to see the horrified look on his face and laughed. "Okay, I'm kidding. Be patient, Jarod."

 

"I'm not a patient person," he reminded her.

 

"Like the last six days hadn't shown me that if I hadn't figured it out already. 'Can I get out of bed? Can’t I stop taking the painkillers? Can I try to walk today? Can’t I get out of this stupid wheelchair yet?' You, impatient? I never would have guessed!"

 

Jarod rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm doesn't become you."

 

"It doesn't become you, either,” she told him tartly. “ But I've never noticed that fact stopping you."

 

He laughed, listening to her walk back through the doorway. "But I only had five years to practice. Sydney didn't ever really appreciate it that much."

 

She raised an eyebrow. "And you think I do?"

 

"Well, I was hoping..."

 

Nicole smiled and placed a bowl on the folding table in front of him, seeing Jarod carefully feel for the bowl and spoon. When he knew where the objects were located, he raised his head, listening to her take her usual seat opposite him, his expression curious.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Something my mother used to make. I hunted out the recipe."

 

He took a cautious taste and grinned. "I like it. What is it?"

 

"A trifle."

 

"It might be a trifle but I'd still like to know what it is."

 

She laughed. "No, Jarod. It's called trifle. Nice wordplay, though."

 

He grinned again as he took a second mouthful.

 

* * *

 

Jarod settled into the armchair, holding a glass. "What are we doing tonight?"

 

"What did you have in mind?" Nicole queried.

 

"Cards?" he offered, trying to suppress a grin and failing miserably.

 

"I’ve told you, no way,” she replied quickly. “You've asked every single night since you got up and I'm not being beaten again, especially not by you."

 

"How about me?"

 

Both occupants looked up and Nicole announced the newcomer's identity to Jarod, although he had already recognized the voice.

 

"Ann! What are you doing here?"

 

"Oh, I just thought I'd drop by and check that you two hadn't bored each other to death. And you left the front door open."

 

"In other words,” Nicole rolled her eyes, “Roger's working tonight and you were bored."

 

"Right," her friend admitted with a laugh. Ann walked over to sit beside Jarod. "Haven't knocked yourself out again, Mystery Man?"

 

He laughed. "No, but life's been getting a little tedious recently and I could do with some action."

 

"God, don't suggest it!" Nicole put a bowl in front of Ann and handed her a spoon. "I can't afford to have to throw away another towel."

 

Ann looked up. "Is this your culinary expertise or his?"

 

"Mine, and no nasty comments, if you please."

 

"As if..."

 

"You would and you know it. I'm just forestalling you."

 

"You're far too good at that."

 

"I'll say," Jarod grinned.

 

Nicole stood up and placed both hands on her hips. "If you two are going to gang up on me then I'll find myself a quiet bar somewhere and drink the night away."

 

"There's always a first time for everything, right?" her friend suggested, laughing.

 

She laughed and sat down again. "Well, maybe."

 

* * *

 

Nicole flicked off the television and watched the room's two occupants finish their current round with a pack of cards that had both Braille and picture symbols.

 

"Who's winning?"

 

"Jarod…" Ann told her as the man tried to conceal a smirk.

 

"I could have told you that would happen," her friend interrupted.

 

"…but not by much."

 

"Well that's something. You might want to check that he isn't just feeling sorry for you though."

 

Ann narrowed her eyes as she turned to her opponent. "Are you?"

 

Jarod stayed silent and shuffled the cards, unable to prevent a small smile from appearing on his face.

 

"He is," Nicole laughed. "He looked the same way when he let me win that game that I did. That's why I won't play with him again."

 

Ann got up from her chair. "Neither will I."

 

"Oh, come on." Jarod's voice took on a note of persuasion. "I thought it was a nice thing to do."

 

"It isn't, Jarod,” Nicole told him. “Most people like to win outright if they manage to win at all. They don't like pity."

 

"Nor do I." His voice was low. "But I don't seem able to avoid it at the moment."

 

"Your attitude will be what determines the way people react to you, Jarod. If you encourage them to feel sorry for you, they will. But I think you know that already."

 

"I've told it to plenty of people, but I never thought it would apply to me too," he told her quietly.

 

"Life's full of surprises," Nicole responded quickly.

 

"I’d noticed that." Jarod's eyes were fixed blindly on the floor and the women in the room watched him silently. Finally he sat back and squared his shoulders. "Well, I suppose if people are going to treat me that way, then I have to act in a way that won’t encourage them to do it."

 

"It's certainly a good start."

 

He could hear the smile in Nicole's voice and smiled in response.

 

* * *

 

"He said the same thing to her, didn't he?"

 

Ann nodded, listening to the sound of the shower running. "Yes, he did. It was all a part of that big discussion cum argument I told you about."

 

"I thought so." Jarod leaned forward, picking up his glass. He was about to speak again when the sound of the water stopped. Grinning, he turned to Ann. "How about if we play cards again so she doesn't know what we were talking about?"

 

Ann rolled her eyes. "You're just determined to beat me."

 

"That could be it." He laughed. "Oh, come on. I'll play fair and we'll see."

 

"All right, but I get to pick the game."

 

Jarod nodded in agreement and bent down to pick up the square box.

 

"Hey, no way!" Ann shrieked in dismay. "That's the deck without pictures!"

 

He grinned as she took them out of his hand and put them down on the table, picking up the other pack.

 

"So what are we playing?"

 

"Snap?" the woman proposed with mock-sincerity.

 

Jarod smiled. "I think that's a little unfair, don't you?"

 

"Well, maybe." She grinned. "But only if I'm feeling sorry for you."

 

He picked up a cushion and, with a laugh, tossed it in the direction from which he could hear her voice coming. "Right! That's it! No more Mr. Nice Invalid!"

 

* * *

 

"How much did you have to pay her to get her to play cards with you?"

 

"The promise that I'd play fair," Jarod told the doctor with a grin as she came in.

 

"Wow!" Nicole sat down and began to rub her hair dry. "She's nicer than I am."

 

"I'm not expected to comment on that, right?" the man suggested.

 

"Not if you know what's good for you."

 

Jarod laughed and concentrated again but his lapse meant that he put down the wrong card and Ann, with a triumphant laugh, claimed the game.

 

"Finally!"

 

"I guess I can't blame Nicole for that?" Jarod proposed hopefully.

 

"Nope. All she did was talk and if you can't do two things at once..."

 

"Now come on, Ann, be fair," Nicole smiled. "He's just a man. Of course he can only do one thing at a time."

 

"Hey, that's not at all kind!"

 

Had his leg been better, Jarod would have bounded to his feet indignantly. Being denied that, he folded his arms and muttered under his breath, glaring at the floor.

 

"Oh boy." Nicole rolled her eyes. "Now I'm in trouble."

 

"I should leave while the going's good," Ann suggested.

 

"Want to take me with you? He might sneak into my room and murder me in the dead of night."

 

"How? You'd hear him as he crashed to the floor," Ann giggled as she put on her coat, watching a smile that was hovering at the corners of Jarod's mouth although he was struggling to hide it.

 

"Well, if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, find somewhere nice to bury me, will you?"

 

Ann laughed. "Sure thing. But for now I'm escaping before he gets any angrier."

 

"Lucky you."

 

Nicole followed her friend down the hallway, locking the door behind her. Returning to the living room, she found Jarod gathering up the cards and putting them back in the box. She sat down opposite him.

 

"Still offended?"

 

"Oh, of course." He grinned. "You mean you can't tell?"

 

"Just wanted to be sure." She glanced down at her watch. "I was thinking I might head off to bed. Can you manage on your own out here or...?"

 

"I'll be fine,” Jarod told her firmly. “I managed yesterday."

 

"Okay, as long as you're sure." She picked up her glass from the table. "Good night, Jarod."

 

"Goodnight." He smiled in her direction. "Sleep well."

 

* * *

 

Jarod awoke with a jump to hear sounds from the kitchen, turning his head in that direction. "Nicole? Is that you?"

 

"Who else would it be?” retorted tart tones from the other room. “Do you think I was being burgled under your nose?"

 

He flipped up the cover of his watch, about to feel the time when she entered the room.

 

"When I asked if you could manage, I didn't mean that you had to sleep out here if you couldn't." She reached forward and placed a hand on his as he shivered slightly. "Or were you just wanting to get sick again?"

 

"Not if I could help it," he replied truthfully. "To be honest, I don't even remember falling asleep."

 

Nicole reached over and grabbed the blanket, tucking it in around his legs. "Obviously losing that game to Ann was so humiliating that you didn't feel like you deserved to sleep in a bed again."

 

He laughed, wrapping both hands around the mug she gave him. "Possible, I guess." Listening to the sounds she was making and not able to identify them, Jarod's brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

 

"Lighting a fire," she told him as the kindling ignited.

 

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "In September?"

 

"I guess you don't realize how cold it got last night. This room's like the inside of an icebox. We'll have to hope that nothing bad comes of it."

 

He didn't need to ask her what she was worried about and the thought of getting an illness wasn't exactly appealing to him either. He heard her leave the room and return several moments later.

 

"Give me that mug for a moment."

 

She took it from him and he heard it being placed on the table.

 

"Can you lean forward a little?"

 

The down comforter being wrapped around his shoulders induced another shiver as she draped it over him. She replaced the mug in his hands and bent down to ease off the slippers that he wore inside, placing his feet on a hot water bottle before covering them with a corner of the blanket.

 

"What are you trying to do - make me cook?" he protested indignantly.

 

"If it warms you up faster, yes." She sat down on the sofa facing him. "I would’ve suggested a hot shower but the bathroom's still cold. Once it heats up, though, I'll have you in there so fast your head will be spinning."

 

Jarod grinned, using one hand to pull the blanket more closely around himself, appreciating a feeling of warmth, as he sipped at the hot chocolate in the mug. "I won't complain."

 

He could hear the amusement in her voice as she replied. "Well, that makes a nice change."

 

"What time is it?"

 

"Quarter after seven."

 

"Isn't that a little early for you to be up?” he asked. “I mean, especially being on vacation..."

 

"You make it sound like I lounge around doing nothing until midday!"

 

"That wasn't quite what I had in mind…" Jarod trailed off, suddenly knowing exactly why she was awake and mentally kicking himself for not realizing before he asked the question.

 

There was a pause.

 

"I couldn't sleep. I’ve been awake since six. If I'd known you were still up I would have come out a lot sooner." He heard her standing up. "I'm going to find out what state that bathroom's in."

 

Nicole left the room abruptly and Jarod could tell that she was trying to avoid any questions he might ask her. Not that he would. He knew whom she'd been thinking about.

 

* * *

 

Jarod could hear the crackle of burning wood as he entered the living room and, after feeling the chair, sat down, placing the crutches on either side so they were easily accessible.

 

"Better?" asked an amused voice to his right.

 

He ran a hand through his damp hair and laughed. "Cleaner. And warmer."

 

"And you're stupid enough to leave the room with your hair wet?" Nicole walked into the bathroom and returned with a towel, which she threw at him. "Some genius! This room's warm, but not that warm. Get busy."

 

"Yes, ma'am." Jarod started to scrub his hair vigorously and Nicole shrieked as cold droplets flew through the air.

 

"That's freezing! You could at least wait until I move away."

 

"Do this, do that, or do the other thing. Can't you ever make up your mind?" Jarod grinned in her direction, his hands not ceasing in their movements.

 

"You're asking for trouble today, aren't you?"

 

"Not intentionally,” he admitted. “But it seems like it, yes."

 

"I should turn you out on the streets to beg," Nicole snorted as she sat in a chair on the other side of the room.

 

"And then I could come back and keep you up all night with pneumonia," he retorted.

 

"If you were welcome back," she told him.

 

His eyes opened wide in mock-astonishment. "I wouldn't be?"

 

"Do you deserve to be?" she queried.

 

Jarod lowered the towel and spoke sweetly. "I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other."

 

For a second, she was speechless, before she saw a smile he fought to keep away from his face and laughed. "You're in for it now! And I've got the whole day to think up some wonderful form of revenge."

 

"Oh boy. Now I'm really in trouble. I should’ve been the one asking Ann for help last night." Jarod grinned and then reached out a hand for the book he knew was on the table in front of him. "Well, I guess all I can do is wait."

 

* * *

 

Nicole stood in the doorway and watched as he carefully slid into bed.

 

"Okay?"

 

"Fine, thanks." Jarod settled back against the pillows and picked up his book. "You honestly don't trust me tonight, do you?"

 

"Not really. I think we can do without you spending another night in the freezing cold living room."

 

"Hey, I didn't get anything as a result of it."

 

"Not yet, anyway." Nicole went over to check that the radiator in the corner was still throwing out warmth.

 

"I'll overheat!" he protested mildly.

 

"Unlikely." She stopped beside the bed and looked down at him. "I'll come in to check on you now and then. If you're too hot, I'll turn down the heater or take off a blanket or two. Okay?"

 

Jarod nodded. "Just so you know, though, I don't get sick that easily."

 

"You probably don't break a leg that easily with all the ice-cream you eat either, but you've done that twice within the last two weeks."

 

He grinned. "Okay, you win. I'll call if I need you."

 

The man felt her hand gently touch his shoulder, her voice soft. "You do that, Jarod."

 

* * *

 

She got up several hours later and slipped across the hallway to his room to find him lying on his side, one arm flung out and the other tucked in behind his head. With a smile, she went over and touched his cheek to find that it was comfortably but not excessively warm.

 

"You don't even sleep like a normal person. You know that, don't you?"

 

He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. "How did you know I was awake?"

 

"Do you remember what I said to you on the first day that you were in hospital?"

 

"I had forgotten, but I remember now." He pulled himself up in bed, groaning slightly as he felt the muscles in his back tighten.

 

"Where do you think you're going?" a laughing voice asked from his right.

 

"What, a stroll around the block right now doesn't sound like a good idea?" he asked, grinning.

 

She laughed, sitting on the bed beside him. "The only thing that sounds like a good idea now is a few more hours' sleep."

 

"So go back to bed. I'm okay." Jarod reached out, his right hand making tentative contact with the side of her face. "You're worrying about me too much."

 

She recovered from the shock his action caused to reply to his comment in a caustic tone. "That’s only because you don't worry about yourself enough."

 

"I've done fine for five years," he told her firmly.

 

"Until the last few weeks, perhaps,” she admitted.

 

His expression became serious. "That may be true. But it's not a thing I'm used to, so you'll have to forgive me if I think that it's a little weird."

 

"I'm sure your mother's been worrying about you for forty years," Nicole stated softly.

 

He paused. "She has reason to."

 

"And when you're living under my roof, that gives me reason to as well." Nicole gently reached up and took hold of his hand, removing it from her cheek and, with a slight squeeze, placing it on his stomach. "Sleep well, Jarod."

 

* * *

 

Jarod lay still, face turned to the ceiling, thinking about whether he had done the right thing. It had seemed instinctive and the fact that he had actually made contact with her face the way he meant to, rather than missing which he had been afraid of for a moment, seemed like a good omen. And then she hadn't backed away or avoided his touch, which he’d also thought possible. Now he was listening to try and hear what her response was, but he couldn’t hear anything, although he hadn't heard her shut the door of either her room or his own. He would, Jarod thought suddenly, like the chance to see her with other patients to see if the way she treated him was different from the way she was with other people, but that was, for more than one reason, impossible. He sighed, rolling onto his side, wincing slightly as his leg throbbed, but the ache was bearable and he could ignore it.

 

* * *

 

Nicole lay on her bed, wide-eyed and staring at the ceiling, her hands linked behind her head, still trying to get over the shock of what had happened. It wasn't as if she hadn't been able to guess what he wanted to do. It had been completely subconscious, but she had even leaned in towards him so that his hand would make contact with her face. And she hadn't even breathed as he did it and it was for this that she was despising herself now. It wasn't only that it felt like being unfaithful to Paul, but...

 

She sat up in bed, staring at his photograph. Reaching out, she opened the drawer of her bedside table, extracting an envelope. It was his last letter and she had been given it with his will, when he had left her his share of their house, and all of his other personal papers. Nicole opened it, taking out the pages, so much reading having made them soft enough that there was barely a sound as she unfolded them. Her fingertips searched the sheets and scanned the familiar sentences for the one paragraph that she usually tried to avoid. There it was.

 

'You have to love again after I'm gone. It's going to be hard, Nic, but you’ll have to make an effort. No matter if it's five months or fifty years later, somebody else will come into your life and want to love you. I don't want to stand between you and a chance at happiness. I know you love me. You don't need to prove it by turning away if somebody offers you his heart. And I'll know. Somehow, I will know when it happens. And you won't be betraying me if you ever do fall in love again. It will only mean I taught you well.'

 

Hot tears flowed down her cheeks as she read and reread that paragraph, her heart aching, and a feeling like a weight settled on her chest as she refolded the thick pages and, sliding them back in the envelope, returned it to the drawer. Looking at his photograph on the shelf, she took up the pillow he had slept on and wrapped her arms around it, burying her face in it and letting the silent tears soak through the cover. That was it. She was falling in love with Jarod and she couldn't bear the thought of seeming to be disloyal to Paul. But he told her that it wouldn't be disloyalty. One of the last things he had said to her was that she had to get on with her life, even though it would be hard. Suddenly it hit her that by not doing so she had been betraying him even more. The pain in her chest expanded and she finally began to sob.

 

* * *

 

Jarod heard the sound and sat up, easing his leg out from under the blankets. He carefully stood, using the crutches to make his way over the hall, and he could tell that the door of her room was open.

 

"Nicole? Are you all right?"

 

She looked up to find him standing in the doorway, an expression of concern on his face, and she quickly wiped the tears away as if he could see them. "Do you want the truth or a brave lie?"

 

He smiled gently. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be. You didn't do anything."

 

Cautiously he came into the room and Nicole put out a hand to steer him around the corner of the mattress. He sat and faced her, his sightless eyes somehow exactly meeting her gaze.

 

"Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “I wouldn't want..."

 

"It wasn't you, Jarod," Nicole told him.

 

He couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. "So it was you."

 

"Yes," she admitted softly. "It probably was."

 

Jarod stretched out his hand and placed it, with unerring aim, on hers. "Do you want to talk about it?"

 

"Not right now."

 

He tilted his head slightly to one side, his expression curious. "And not to me, right?"

 

She shrugged, forgetting that he couldn't see it. "I don't know."

 

"It always helps to talk to someone."

 

"Hey, that's supposed to be my line!" she protested indignantly.

 

He smiled. "Right now, I could probably use a few of them. Get some sleep. Just relax. Try not to worry. Need I go on?"

 

"Not really, no. I get the idea." Nicole smiled weakly. "But unless you go back to your room soon, I might use them, too."

 

Jarod laughed. "I'm going, I'm going." Standing, he put the crutches under his arms and, avoiding the mattress, reached the doorway before he stopped again. "But if I think it's necessary, I'll come back."

 

"I consider myself warned," she smiled. "And if you aren't in bed in five minutes then you ought to consider yourself warned as well."

 

He smiled over his shoulder at her before going into his room.

 

* * *

 

Nicole came out of her room later that morning to find the hallway full of the scent of delicious and savory cooking. She walked into the kitchen to find Jarod stirring something on the stove, leaning on his crutches, and stared at him for a moment in astonishment before she could speak.

 

"What on earth...?"

 

"Good morning." He turned to smile at her, his hand never ceasing to stir. “How did you sleep?”

 

"Jarod, what are you doing?"

 

He laughed. "I thought I was the blind one. What does it look like?"

 

"Cooking breakfast?" She walked over to sit on the bench-top out of his way, a glance sufficient to show her the bacon sizzling in the pan and small rolls turning golden-brown in the oven.

 

"Very good," he told her in patronizing tones, with a grin.

 

Jarod picked up a glass of orange juice, handing it to her. As she took the first sip he removed the pan from the stove and turned off the hotplate, his other hand giving the saucepan several more careful whisks before he also moved that off the heat. Shifting slightly to one side, he slid on oven gloves and removed the trays, allowing the rolls to tumble into a basket. He took out a few plates, onto two of which he placed the scrambled eggs and the bacon, before turning to her.

 

"Breakfast is served. Kind of."

 

She laughed. "Should I give you hand in carrying it to the table?"

 

"Unless you want to see all my hard work on the floor, it might be better." Placing the plates back on the bench, he reached up to turn off the oven, leaving the door open to cool, while he followed her out of the room.

 

* * *

 

"Okay, you were right," she told him as she brushed the breadcrumbs off her fingertips.

 

He turned his face in her direction, a mystified expression in his eyes. "About?"

 

"Your cooking abilities. You're much better than me."

 

"Hey, you were the person who said I was an expert." He took one of the last cinnamon rolls from the basket, splitting it open and spreading a thin layer of butter on the steaming surfaces, trying to conceal a smirk. "I just didn't dispute the fact."

 

"Did you burn yourself much?"

 

"Nope, not at all."

 

"Now that's unfair!" She grinned. "I did when I first cooked."

 

"It was probably just luck," he hazarded.

 

"And good management as well as ability. I've never had such good tasting scrambled eggs, and the rolls were fantastic."

 

"If slightly unexpected, right? I heard you gasp when you opened them to see the insides."

 

"And that reminds me," she stated, narrowing her eyes as Jarod took the first bite. "When did you get the chance to prepare it all?"

 

He grinned, chewed, swallowed, but didn't comment, hearing her fingers drum on the tabletop.

 

"I'm waiting."

 

Jarod laughed. "I’m starting to think my personality flaws must be contagious. Aren't I supposed to be the impatient one?"

 

"All I'm doing is demanding an answer," she retorted, trying not to grin.

 

"Mmm, yes, I noticed that."

 

He rested his head on one hand and turned his face to hers with such a look of innocence that it was difficult for her to restrain her laughter.

 

"Jarod, are you going to tell me," she demanded as an idea struck her, "or shall I tell you?"

 

"Go ahead," he grinned. "It could be entertaining."

 

"Well, I suspect that, after our discussion last night, you didn't go back to bed at all but stayed in your room until you thought I'd be asleep and then came out, mixed the dough and left it to rise. Five hours later, you got up to prepare everything." She sat back in her chair. "So how'd I do?"

 

"Close,” he told her. “But not quite."

 

"In what way?"

 

"First, I did go back to bed. Briefly. After all your threats," he teased, "I‘d have been stupid not to, wouldn't I? Then I came up with the idea, got up again, stood just inside my door until I could hear that you were asleep and came out. From then on, you were right." He smiled and ate the last bit of his roll with an expression of infuriating calm on his face. "Oh, and you can add the fact that, if you hadn't woken up in time, I’d have brought breakfast in to you."

 

"How?" Nicole grinned. "How would you have managed?"

 

"I hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but I would have managed it somehow,” he told her firmly. “I can always find a way."

 

* * *

 

"Mmm, what smells good?"

 

"Breakfast, but you're too late to partake." Nicole looked up from the newspaper as Ann entered the living room. "Did I leave the front door open again?"

 

"Mystery Man knew I was coming and opened it for me. He's getting dressed." Ann looked at the remains of the meal that were still spread all over the table. "Did you come into a fortune and hire a chef or something?"

 

Nicole laughed. "No, Jarod cooked this morning."

 

"I should borrow him for a day."

 

"Sorry, no deal," the man stated as he came into the room. "No accommodation, no cooking."

 

"Aw, geez," Ann groaned. "Some people have all the luck." She reached over to take the last roll out of the basket, breaking it open and inhaling the fragrance. "Cinnamon flavored bread? That's just torture!"

 

Jarod laughed as he sat down. "I'll give you the recipe. Of course it'll be in Braille, but that's your problem, not mine."

 

"Thanks." Ann swatted him with a cushion. "You're so accommodating."

 

"I aim to please." He stood up, bowed and sat down again. Nicole laughed before looking at her friend.

 

"I don't want to be uncivil or anything, but what are you doing here?"

 

"Yesterday I offered to take Jarod to the library so he could get out of the house for a while."

 

"Is he going to clean the kitchen first?"

 

Jarod laughed at her tone. "I already did that while you were getting dressed. I just left the dishes on the table because I didn't know how you stack your dishwasher, but otherwise it's clean."

 

"And how did you sweep the floor?"

 

"I found the broom, of course."

 

"And picking up the dust?"

 

Caught out, he grinned and didn't answer. Ann glanced from him to Nicole.

 

"What's that look mean?"

 

"It means he did something he's not meant to do, but he isn't going to admit it, which in this case would have been bending down, despite the fact that he was given explicit orders not to do so by Phillip Barnard." Nicole rolled her eyes. "You see what I have to put up with."

 

"Hmm, yes.” Ann nodded in mock understanding. “A gourmet breakfast, a man who knows how to clean up the kitchen when he's done with it - I can see how you're suffering."

 

Jarod laughed. "Could we all please stop talking about me like I'm not here? Ann, I'm ready to go whenever you are if Nicole will let me borrow her library card."

 

Nicole reached over and grabbed her purse, pulling out the card and placing it in his outstretched hand. "You should get your own."

 

"I would, but I have to get some identification first."

 

"True."

 

He put a hand on the large stack of books on the table. "Can I take any of these back?"

 

"You've read them all?"

 

"Yup. You?"

 

Nicole rolled her eyes. "I don't speed-read - my apologies."

 

Jarod laughed and stood up, slipping the crutches under his arms.

 

* * *

 

"I'll leave you there for a few hours."

 

Jarod stared sightlessly through the windscreen. "Then go and talk to Nicole."

 

"Why?" Ann glanced at him sharply. “What about?”

 

"Something… happened last night and she won't talk to me about it, but I'm sure it had to do with Paul - and me."

 

The woman eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't kiss her, did you?"

 

Jarod grinned weakly. "No, not exactly."

 

"What do you mean by that?"

 

He described the scene in his room and hers, by the end of which Ann had parked the car in front of the library and was watching him.

 

"Tell her that, if it's too hard for her, I'll find somewhere else to stay," he finished.

 

Ann raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little needlessly self-sacrificial?"

 

He shrugged. "Maybe. But I'd do it if I had to."

 

A question leapt to the tip of her tongue but she restrained herself and asked something else. "Do you want me to tell you what she says?"

 

"Not if it's too personal – or if she tells you not to. If I need to know about it then I'm sure she'll tell me eventually."

 

"Wow, a man without curiosity. What a rarity."

 

He smiled. "I didn't say I wasn't curious - more that I don't want you to betray her confidence. At least," Jarod couldn’t help adding, "not any more than you already have done."

 

She grinned. "Okay, enough insults already. Let's get you inside and then I'll go talk to her."

 

* * *

 

Ann let herself into the house using the key that Nicole had given Jarod, stopping in the doorway of the bedroom. She saw her friend lying on her bed, running her hand over a very familiar letter.

 

"Nic? Are you okay?"

 

Nicole rolled over to stare at her friend. "What are you, Houdini?"

 

Laughing, Ann held up the key and then put it back into her pocket before going over to sit beside the other woman.

 

"What happened last night?"

 

"What did he tell you?"

 

Ann raised her eyebrows. "Why do you think he told me anything?"

 

"Because I know that I didn't."

 

The blond woman nodded in agreement. "He told me his point of view. Now you tell me yours."

 

Nicole shrugged. "I wouldn't know where to start."

 

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

 

"That wasn't quite where I was going to begin," Nicole replied tartly.

 

"But?" Ann prodded.

 

"But - yes."

 

Nicole got off the bed and began to pace the length of the room, her eyes slowly filling with tears, which rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the floor. Finally she stopped and looked at Ann.

 

"Yes. I am in love with him - and I don't know what to do."
 
Part 6

 

Series Index

 

Home