5. Jason
5
Jason
Jason stared at his two-week notice, which he was currently typing, and tried not to flinch at every single sound Hannah made. No matter what she did, she was noisy. In addition to his being sensitive to touch when she was around, he was acutely aware of her every move too, and it nearly drove him crazy.
He could’ve taken breaks away from her, but his personal office was his shelter. His safe spot. Or it had been. Leaving his office meant running into foot traffic, hearing the constant noise of a doctor’s office, and risking exposure to even more people making noise.
After the first week passed and she was arranging meetings, making calls, and arranging schedules without his help, he had started sending her out of the office again, and every time he did it was a relief when the door closed and he was left alone. His favorite days were when she didn’t come in at all.
And when she didn’t give up after the first week, he knew he couldn’t hold out for much longer. Rueben thought Jason could do things he just couldn’t. Being in the same room with another person, especially a woman like Hannah, was taxing.
It wasn’t that she was bad at her job. In fact, she learned quickly and had yet to make an obvious mistake. Hannah had even prepared drinks and informational packets for every interviewee he’d met with about a few receptionist openings on the main floor. It had been a little overkill, but it seemed to make everyone calmer—everyone except for him. And when the copy machine had broken and he was in the middle of meetings all day, she read the manual and fixed the problem before he’d even heard about it.
Her work efficiency wasn’t enough though. Whenever she was around, he couldn’t relax, not even in the privacy of his office, and time at home under his weighted blanket had increased from an hour or two to the remainder of his night.
Currently, it was the tapping. She tapped on the desk with her pen as she was thinking, an annoying habit he’d let slide in the past. But after an hour of hearing the same sound, he was ready to throw his own pen at her.
“Do you always have to do that?” he asked through gritted teeth.
The pen tapping stopped. “Oh, sorry.”
“Thank you.”
It was blissfully quiet until he heard her next loud habit. Crossing and uncrossing her legs. “And that,” he added when she started to shift in her seat.
She lifted her chin and met his glare. Then she smiled. “I’m sorry. I fidget a lot.”
He nodded, feeling bad for criticizing everything she seemed to do. “Can you make some coffee? I saw it was low last time I went to the bathroom.” The bathroom usually wasn’t such an appealing escape, but lately, he had made longer visits just to have a break from his office .
“One of the receptionists walked me through it a while back, but I think I remember.”
“Great.”
Making coffee had been one of his least favorite jobs as office assistant years ago, and it was the same machine. It was a dinosaur model that needed to be replaced long ago. The top was shaky and frequently spilled if you weren’t careful. He almost called a warning to her, but decided against it. She could figure it out.
Every silent minute was precious, and he finally had time to finish typing his two-week notice and print it. If Hannah didn’t leave... or if he couldn’t hack the job alone after his grandpa retired, it was time to consider other options for his life. Maybe an office job from home instead.
He folded and enclosed the letter in an envelope, then started on his to-do list. When she didn’t come back after fifteen minutes, the silence pressed upon him. Surely the coffee was brewed by now.
He stood, stretched, and then peered outside his office for any foot traffic before heading down the hallway toward the break room. He heard a loud commotion just as he reached the door.
“Put her hand under cold water,” someone called.
“Guys, I’m really okay. It doesn’t hurt.”
He froze at the sound of Hannah’s voice. Then he ran to the sink where the small group was gathered.
“What happened?” He maneuvered around the office staff that blocked his view.
“She burned herself,” someone said.
“And I’m fine,” Hannah said with a sigh. “I have thick skin.”
Suddenly, he realized how close he was to several people and backed away. “Uh, let’s have some space everyone. Return to your responsibilities, and I’ll take it from here. ”
Only Brandy stayed behind to clean up the mess of coffee on the floor and counter.
“This should’ve been replaced the last time someone burned themselves,” Brandy said with a sigh.
“Let’s get rid of it,” Jason snapped. “I’ll order a new one today.”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Brandy said. “I’ll handle the mess and order a new coffee pot. You worry about Hannah.”
He turned his attention to Hannah’s hand. Instinctively, he reached out. Before he made contact, he dropped his hand by his side and balled his fist. Even under the water, he could see the raw pink skin.
“We need to get you seen,” he said.
Hannah huffed and lifted her hand. “It’s really okay. I can’t feel a thing.”
He stared at her. How was that true? “You don’t have to be tough around me.”
She laughed. “I’m not.”
“Well, in any case, we work in a medical facility, and you’ll be seen next.” He glanced up at Brandy, who was watching the two of them. “Dr. Mandella should be available. He usually takes his lunch now. Tell him it’s an emergency.”
She snapped to attention. “I’ll get something arranged right away.”
He nodded and grabbed a paper towel. Without touching her, he passed it to Hannah.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
This had been all his fault. “I shouldn’t have made you make the coffee.”
“It’s part of my job. Accidents happen.”
Not to him. Not unless Hannah and paint were involved. And now coffee.
He backed away as she wrapped her hand in the paper towel. “I can manage on my own. ”
He shook his head, feeling guiltier than ever with another look at her hand. Second-degree burns for sure. He’d seen worse burns at their clinic, but not many. “No, I’ll feel better if you’re not alone.”
She shrugged and nodded. “If you say so.”
By the time they made it back to the reception desk, Brandy had an appointment ready, and a physician was already calling for her.
Jason had a sudden urge to tuck an arm around her waist and lead her into the doctor’s office, but his hands stayed stiffly at his sides. Being sorry didn’t mean he had to go overboard.
His mind raced as the physician’s assistant did an initial exam, and then later the doctor joined him.
“Ooh, that looks like a bad one,” the doctor said.
Her skin was already starting to blister.
“This might hurt a little,” he said, reaching for her hand.
She didn’t even flinch as the doctor turned her hand over, examining every inch of the burned skin. “Is it numb?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“How are you so calm?”
She sighed and took her hand back as he prepped ointment and bandages. “I’m what you call a seeker.”
Jason raised his brow, having heard the term many times in his studies.
“I have delayed reactions to things like heat and cold and... pain. I go overboard and accidentally touch things I shouldn’t because of that.”
The doctor nodded. “I see. Well, I guess in this case, it’s a relief.”
She laughed. “It drove my parents crazy when I was a kid. Can’t tell you how many scars I have.”
All Jason could do was stare. A seeker. She was a seeker! It all made sense. Her need to touch him, her constant movement, even her inability to feel pain.
Jason looked away as the doctor cared for her hand and gave her instructions. Luckily, it wasn’t her writing hand, but the doctor gave her warnings about using it too much.
The doctor left them in the room after giving her a prescription for medication.
“I should’ve thrown out that stupid coffee maker years ago.”
She touched his shoulder with her bandaged hand. “Oh, sorry,” she said, pulling it away.
He looked down at his shoulder, surprised he hadn’t noticed her touch. “It’s fine,” he said slowly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You can take as much time off as you’d like.”
“I can? But what about your appointments? Your meetings and schedules? Will you be okay?”
An unbearable weight pressed upon him as he thought about returning to an empty office. A few days ago, he had done it all alone. But... why? Even he could admit that she had eased his burdens. And meeting with others hadn’t been completely horrible. He just met with them in big spaces and skipped the handshaking part. “Yes, I’m sure I can rope Brandy into helping out for a few days.”
“No!”
He glanced up, surprised at her outburst.
“I mean, no, I’ll be fine. The burn’s on the top of my hand, and like I said, I can’t feel it.”
“So strange.” Had that happened to him, he would have had to be hospitalized for days, just for the anxiety and mental toil.
“I’m sorry I made a mess of everything.”
He looked into her eyes, noticing how bright they were. He’d only ever seen eyes like that in one person—his grandmother. “Your eyes, they’re so green. ”
Her cheeks pinked, matching the scarred skin on her hand. “Yeah, I’m not sure where I get them either. I think the genes jumped a generation. My parents have light hair, light eyes, and they’re a lot taller. I think they were disappointed that I came out with black hair and green eyes. That was only the start of my disappointments for them.”
He frowned and studied her for the first time. She was perfect. Cheerful, friendly, caring, everything he wasn’t. Maybe Grandpa was right. He needed a little more of Hannah in his life.
When he returned to his office, he took the envelope off his desk and chucked it in the trash. It was always on his computer if he needed it, but for now, he was going to trust the one family member who cared about him most.