7. Jason
7
Jason
Jason stared, horror-struck at the sight in front of him. Having avoided anything that would bring him pain, being so careful and sheltered for so long, he’d never seen a sight so terrible. He didn’t even like watching the news.
His mind and heart warred with each other as he debated where to be—by her side or clinging to the door, ready to escape at the first invitation. But even he knew he couldn’t leave. The guilt was so heavy on his shoulders, it seemed to paralyze him.
“You can go,” Hannah called to him as the doctor pulled out a pair of scissors and forceps and raised them over her hand. “I’m sure you have things to do, and I’ll be okay. It’ll be mostly dead skin so there’s a chance I won’t feel much.”
“That is doubtful at this level,” the doctor said.
Jason saw her gulp, and her eyes watered again. And then he knew. He could no longer stand as a coward by the door, no matter how much it pained him. He deserved whatever punishment she gave him.
He forced himself to move his heavy feet, one step at a time, closer. He reached out to hold her free hand and then immediately pulled back and balled his hand at his side.
The doctor made his first motion, and Jason heard the tiny, painful sounds of skin peeling. But instead of crying, her gaze was fixed on him. She raised an eyebrow and held her free hand out to him. “Will you?”
Doctor Mendella stopped and stared at her. “He doesn’t—”
“I’m trying,” he said suddenly.
She lowered her hand, but before it hit her lap, he reached for it. Just the touch of her skin sent pain radiating through his hand, probably equal to her second-degree burns. Immediately, he dropped it. And then bravely, he reached out again, this time tightening his fingers around hers and holding on.
In seconds, the sensation subsided to a dull pain.
Her hand was calloused, and he marveled at the feel of her skin in his. He was doing it! Not a three-second handshake, but he was actually holding someone’s hand.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He glanced up and saw the small pile of dead skin the doctor had already removed. “I should be asking you that.”
“Uh, right.” She looked down at her hand. “I guess I was a little distracted.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked, ignoring a sudden burst of pain.
“Yes, but it’s surprisingly manageable with you here.”
His cheeks burned with heat, and for a moment, he forgot about everything else.
“Sorry about my hands. I’m very active at my PE class, and I do taekwondo once a week.”
He stared at her, amazed by this new information. He’d never tried anything so daring.
The doctor noticed their joined hands and nearly dropped his instruments. “Well, I’d say today proves the theory I’ve had all along, Jason. Your pain is neurological, not neuropathic.”
“What does that mean?” Jason asked slowly.
Dr. Mendella smiled widely. “It means you have a chance of overcoming your aversions to touch.”
The time passed quickly as his mind reeled and his skin tingled almost painlessly. Could the doctor be right? His grandpa too? He could overcome it? The possibility seemed too incredulous after the years of struggle.
By the time the doctor was ready to apply ointment, Hannah had pulled her hand away from his. “Sorry, your hand’s a little sweaty.”
He looked at his palm, wet with moisture. “Uh, sorry. I guess I was as nervous as you.”
She chuckled and looked away.
While the doctor finished up, Jason stared at his hand, unable to process what he’d just done. For ten, maybe twenty minutes, he had willingly held onto someone. His grandpa would be so proud.
As a little boy, he had refused to ever hold his parents’ hands or anyone’s. He ran away from adults wanting to hug and kiss him, and quickly became a social pariah in his own home.
Emotion thickened in his throat as he touched his hand, trying to remember the exact sensation. At first, her touch had been painful, and then numbing, and then soft. Her tiny hand in his had been... comforting. But how?
“Should we go?”
He looked up and saw that the doctor had left the room. “Already?” Jason asked.
She nodded. “Yep, and I’m feeling loads better. I’m sure the pain will kick in soon, but while it’s gone, I’m going out for lunch. I haven’t been able to eat anything all day. Do you want to come with me? ”
Another war in his mind: his desire to explore new feelings and his selfish impulses to hide in his car and decompress during lunchtime.
But she wasn’t backing down. She paused, seemingly not breathing as she waited for his answer.
“Can we go outside?” he asked.
“Sure, I love the sun. There’s a perfectly quiet spot I saw the other day.”
He glanced at her hand. It shook involuntarily. “Is your lunch under your desk?”
She nodded. “Yep, it’s a sandwich day.”
“I’ll get it and meet you at the front doors.”
She raised an eyebrow, but agreed. He waited for her to leave, then counted to twenty before heading to his office.
“Is everything okay?” Brandy asked, stopping him in front of his office. He leaned back against the door and nodded. “She’ll be okay. She’s incredibly brave.”
“I think the two of you... work really well together. She really complements you.”
He pulled at his collar and then straightened his tie. “I’ll be taking my lunch outside. If anyone calls for me, take a message.”
“Have fun,” Brandy sang. He didn’t like what her tone implied. He was incapable of becoming close to anyone, much less dating them. He shuddered at the thought of someone constantly touching him.
He hurried inside the office and shut the door with a snap. Then he collapsed against it and took deep breaths. His heart skipped at the image of Hannah’s hand in his. Strange. Touching her hadn’t been excruciating. He had helped someone out, and now he felt happy. It was normal for that to happen, right?
But if not... it meant there was hope that things could change. That one day he could hold a woman’s hand, hug her, have a normal relationship. A shiver rolled through him.
When Jason finally worked up the nerve to leave his office, he carried both brown bag lunches out with him.
Instead of waiting for him at the front doors, Hannah was laughing with two of the receptionists at the front desk. She froze when she spotted him. Had they been talking about him?
Feeling self-conscious, he nodded to all three of them and headed out the front doors, not even bothering to see if she followed. But too soon, he heard her behind him.
“I was wondering when you were going to emerge.”
He glanced at his watch and frowned. He hadn’t been gone too long. Maybe ten minutes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s all right. I was telling the girls about what happened at PE this morning. They got a kick out of it.”
So that’s what she had been talking about. He relaxed his shoulders, glad they hadn’t been talking about him .
She took the lead and gestured for him to follow. “This way. Hopefully, no one’s found this spot.”
There was a small hill that separated the street and his office. At the bottom, there was a little fountain and a circle of cement that surrounded it. The little fountain hadn’t seen water in days, and it was overrun with little plants. Still, it was beautiful. “How did you find this?”
“I was stuck at a light the other day and happened to glance over here. You almost can’t see it. Do you think it’s our office’s property?”
It wasn’t far from the office, but he’d have to check. “Not sure.”
“If it is, I’m going to fix it up. It just needs a little bit of love.” She glanced down at her hand. It was shaking again. “Maybe not today, though.”
“It’s hurting again, huh? ”
She bit into her sandwich and nodded.
“How about you go home early? I don’t want to make things worse.”
She shook her head. “My next job is what I’m worried about.”
“You’re going to a job after this?”
She swallowed down her bite and grinned. “Thursday is my busy day. After PE classes, I work here and then walk a few dogs.”
“Walking dogs?” He imagined the leash pulling at her skin. “You can’t do that.”
She frowned and shoved another bite in her mouth. “I think you’re right,” she said, her mouth full of food.
He turned away before she could see him laugh. She was so different from the women he had met over his adult years. Of course she walked dogs. She was full of life and probably the happiest person he had ever met.
“Hey.” She tapped his leg gently. “You could always help me.”
He whipped around, staring at where her hand had been. Instead of the usual burning, his leg tingled.
“Ah, sorry.” She scooted away from him. “I’m not used to keeping my hands to myself. It’s a problem.”
Questions fought for space in his mind, but he picked the most urgent. “Can’t you cancel your third job?”
She shook her head. “Ginger and Snaps would never get out if I didn’t take them. Their owners are handicapped.”
“Ginger and Snaps?”
She giggled through another bite. “Yes. Aren’t they cute dog names? Except Snaps isn’t a biter at all. It’s Ginger you’ve got to watch out for. She likes to bowl you over.”
He bit back a smile. Everything she said was pure comedy to his ears.
“I could do it for you.” What was he thinking? But the suggestion was already out, and he couldn’t go back on his word.
“I’m sure you really don’t want to walk two mastiffs. I can barely hold them on a good day.”
“Mastiffs? Two of them?” He pulled at his collar. “I’m sure I could handle it.”
“Um, if you say so.” She smiled. “I’d love your help.”
There was no going back now.
She dropped her sandwich in the dirt and frowned. “Ah, shoot. That was my last bite.” She picked it up and chucked it in her bag.
“Want mine?” He was suddenly too nervous to eat.
She nodded and licked her lips as he handed her his sub sandwich.
“Hope you’re okay with lots of fixings,” he said.
“Absolutely. I’m not picky with food, only with baking.”
He remembered her plate of cookies. “I hope you’ll forgive me about the whole cookie thing. I really did like them.”
Her mouth froze around a bite of food.
He laughed and motioned for her to finish.
“You did?” she asked when the food was long gone.
“Yeah, they weren’t bad.”
“Not bad, huh? Well, what flavors do you like?”
He looked down at the cracked cement wall and considered resting his hand there. As soon as he did, he moved it back to his lap. Too rough.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “I’m very picky, but you started on a good path. I’m a citrus guy. Lemons, oranges, limes, all the flavored candies people usually eat last.”
“I don’t,” she said, not even blinking. “I love lemon the most.”
“Well, I’d love to give your cookies another try. As payment for doing your dog-walking. And only when your hand is feeling better.”
Her face brightened into a smile. His heart leapt, and he looked away. It was only normal to have feelings for someone he was caring for. He knew he wasn’t capable of a normal relationship, but attraction was still there whether he wanted it or not. Or maybe it was sympathy.
He rolled his shoulders back, trying to convince himself that was true. But he had a sinking feeling he was all wrong.