8. Collie
Collie
This wasn’t how I’d pictured my wedding day.
I was incredibly grateful that Miller was doing this for me, but it was just so…
bureaucratic. For one thing, we’d just finished signing the quick, down and dirty prenuptial agreement his lawyer friend had emailed over.
It was important, and it had actually been my idea, but it was kind of a buzzkill.
Now we were about to get married for a piece of paper, which would get presented to a human resources person, who’d then sign me up for health insurance. It was all about that paperwork.
But, whatever. At least I’d been allowed to leave the hospital. That was something to be happy about.
My surgery was scheduled for Thursday, and the only way to get the doctor to sign off on going home in the meantime was to agree to wear a heart monitor around my neck.
A bunch of wires connected it to sticky pads all over my chest and back.
If it started to detect an irregular heartbeat, I was under orders to return to the hospital ASAP.
I’d been told I couldn’t get it wet. I imagined electrocuting myself like a cartoon character, my skeleton flashing through my skin while lightning shot out of my body.
Okay, so it would probably only wreck the machine, but I didn’t want to do that either, because they’d probably make me pay for it.
I removed the strap from around my neck and placed the monitor as far from me as the wires would allow while I washed my hair in the bathroom sink.
Then I tried to clean myself with a wet washcloth.
This might be a fake marriage, but I wasn’t going to show up to the ceremony stinky, oily, and dressed in sweatpants.
The washcloth routine wasn’t cutting it though, so I plugged the tub and started to fill it with water. After a minute, Miller knocked on the door and called, “You okay in there?”
“I promise I’m not going belly up today, Miller. You don’t need to keep such a close eye on me.”
“You’re not supposed to shower with that monitor, and I hear water running.”
“I’m putting three inches of water in the tub so I can clean my junk. The monitor and the connectors are going to stay perfectly dry.”
He asked, “Do you need help?”
“Do I want you to wash my balls? No, thank you.”
“You know, I’ll probably be washing them for you after you have surgery, so you might as well get over feeling shy about stuff like that.”
As the full meaning of that statement sunk in, I shut off the water and sat down on the edge of the tub. When I didn’t say anything for a minute, he asked again, “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Can I come in?”
Since I was naked, I draped a towel over my lap. Then I draped a second one over my shoulders to cover some of the wires before saying, “Go ahead.”
When he opened the door, the cat darted into the bathroom and sat down in the middle of the floor. Miller leaned against the doorframe and asked, “What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing, because I can see the worry all over your face.”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I muttered.
“I was so freaked out about having surgery that I didn’t think about what would happen after that.
I won’t be okay. Not for a long time. It’ll be weeks, maybe months.
I don’t know how long it takes to heal from something like that, but it can’t be fast. Right? ”
“I was reading up on it. It’ll probably be eight to twelve weeks before you’re back to where you started.”
“I can’t be out of commission for two or three months! There’s no way. I need to find a job, and a place to live, and—”
“You don’t need to worry about any of that until you’ve had a chance to recover.”
“And in the meantime?”
“You’re going to live here, with me,” Miller said.
“I can’t impose on you like that.”
“How is it an imposition? I have plenty of room. I have so much space that I gave the cat her own bedroom.”
“It’s incredibly nice of you to offer, but I don’t think you realize what a burden I’ll be.
You just said it yourself, I’ll have weeks of healing ahead of me.
What are you supposed to do, feed me, and carry me to the toilet, and…
fucking hell, Miller, I can’t do this! I can’t have that surgery and be helpless and totally dependent on you.
It’s too much. It isn’t fair to you. And it’s humiliating!
I don’t want you to see me like that, all weak and pathetic. ”
He crossed the room and crouched down in front of me. “There’s nothing humiliating about needing help, Collie.”
“There is if I can’t even get myself to the toilet.”
“It’s going to be okay. We can do this.”
“I don’t think you fully understand what you’re agreeing to.”
“I do though,” he said. “And if I’m wrong and you need more help than I can provide, we’ll hire a home health care nurse. I’ll bet my insurance will even pay for it.”
“But you’ve only known me for two days!”
“I know, but I like you, Collie, and I’m happy to help.”
“What are you getting out of it?”
“A lot more than you realize.”
“Please explain it to me.”
Miller thought about it before saying, “This last year has been rough. I work from home, because the studio is too distracting. I don’t know if I told you that.
But I’m here all the time, except for Friday afternoons, when I go in and meet with my art director.
Aside from that and my baseball games, which are every other weekend, I’m alone, all the time.
And that isolation has started to feel normal. ”
He shifted so he was sitting cross-legged at my feet and looked up at me as he continued, “But I don’t want that to be my life.
I don’t want to put up walls between myself and the rest of the world.
I also want to get the hell out of my own head.
I’ve spent almost a full year sulking and feeling sorry for myself, and that has to stop. ”
He rested his hand on top of mine as he said, “You’re giving me the opportunity to shift my focus outward instead of inward.
If you trust me to take care of you, you’ll be allowing me to do something good, something that matters.
Don’t you see? I need that, Collie. And I need you in my life.
I need your friendship, and your sense of humor, and your unpredictability.
I need the light you bring to this place. ”
I blinked back tears and whispered, “That was a really good speech.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to put it into words.” He gestured at the tub and asked, “Now, are you sure I can’t help with any of this? Because we have a wedding to get to.”
“No thanks, I’ve got it. Let me be self-reliant while I still can.”
He got up and said, “In that case, I’m going to get dressed and go help my friends get everything set up. Come join us when you’re ready.”
He’d gotten the idea to ask his neighbors across the street if we could get married in their backyard. I would have been fine with getting married in his, even though it was a jungle, but he’d seemed pretty happy when he came up with this idea.
I said, “See you soon,” and watched as he left the bathroom. Then I added a little hot water to the tub and proceeded to take an awkward, one-handed mini bath, while holding the heart monitor over my head to keep it dry.
After I’d done all I could in the bathroom, I went into the bedroom and got dressed. Then I stepped into Miller’s walk-in closet and took a look at myself in the full-length mirror.
I didn’t have a lot of dressy clothes, but I’d tried my best to look nice.
I was wearing all black, like usual, from my ankle boots and slim-fitting cigarette pants to my long-sleeved shirt.
It had elegant, bell-shaped cuffs that partially covered my hands, and a lot of big, frothy ruffles on the chest. I’d selected it both because it was pretty, and because the ruffles helped hide the monitor.
This shirt always made me think of my best friend Jeannie.
She called it my poofy, puffy pirate shirt.
I thought about sending a text to tell her I was getting married.
But if I did that, I’d have to tell her about my heart condition, and the fact that I needed to have an operation.
Not that I was planning to keep it a secret, but it would be a lot better to call her once I was out of surgery and knew I was going to be okay. I really hated worrying people.
I took one last look in the mirror and fussed with my hair before deciding it wasn’t going to get any better than this. Then I left the house and paused on the front porch.
My destination was directly across the street. It stood out, both because it was pink, and because it was the only Victorian on the block. There was a huge Pride flag above the porch, and the steps leading to the front door were lined with pots brimming with colorful flowers.
I hurried across the street and took a deep breath before knocking on my neighbors’ door.
It was answered a few moments later by a tall, beautiful woman with a curvy figure and platinum blonde hair.
“You must be Collie! Come on in,” she said, with a radiant smile.
“I’m JoJo. The officiant called to say he’s running late, so we’re enjoying a few cocktails in the backyard. ”
As I stepped inside, I said, “Nice to meet you,” and pushed my hair back with a hand that we both noticed was shaking. “I have no idea why I’m nervous. This isn’t even a real wedding. Miller told you that, right?”
“He told us everything. Let’s sit down for a minute before we join the party.” We both took a seat on the stairs at the back of the foyer, and she smoothed the skirt of her yellow sundress as she asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m totally fine.”
“My wife Yolanda is a nurse. I’m going to give you our number, and we want you to call us if you need anything at all in the days ahead. It doesn’t have to be medical stuff, either. I work from home, so I’m always around if you want some company.”
“You’re so nice, and I don’t even know what’s wrong with me right now. I feel like I’m on the verge of crying, or having a panic attack, or both.”