Watching Over Libby

Back to the Nanley story. Selma wasn’t the only one who was to have ended up in need of home care. Some big things were happening in my neck of the hood too.

Look, look at him. Norm, my baby brother, isn’t so little anymore. The last time I saw him was five years ago. He was celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday then, look at him now, wow! A very fine young man he has turned out to be after all. Tall, dark, and handsome. He’s one shade lighter than me. Hazel eyes. Finely attired to match the fine banking job he has managed to land himself in Toronto. He’s easygoing, to a fault.

Norm showed up at my house to spend the Sunday with Libby and me. Although she would not admit it. I saw Mom’s fingerprints all over these things. Mom has been doing more than her fair share to help out since Libby moved in with me and I can’t thank her enough. So, this is Norm’s turn to play caregiver. But it would seem as if he was far more interested in caring for himself and helping himself with everything and anything he could get his paws on in the house. Rather than helping and caring for Libby and me, it’s all good now though. Nothing too good for the good old Norman Whitley.

He made breakfast and a late breakfast it was. More like brunch to me, considering the timing. Scrambled eggs and bacon it was. Easy enough. Libby had cereal. I insisted on preparing Sunday dinner. I had it all planned out from the previous day. Juicy, tender sirloin steak with steamed Brussels sprouts, asparagus, and bitter herbs. Alongside: potatoes (whole potatoes, not mashed.) Carrots and beans, white rice among other things.

For those who wanted to have mashed potatoes. I told them, “Go mash it yourself, or be sure to chew each bite well enough to get it as close to mashed potatoes as you can get before swallowing.” No one complained, so, I took it that they did enjoy it in the end after all. Libby and Norm did the dishes afterward. I was secretly watching over her the whole time. There was probably no reason for me to be so overly protective of her but then again…

Libby’s recovery has been going great. And though I was trying to get her to take things easy and slow. She was not buying that approach at all and said she was not waiting for her recovery to lead her along. She’s leading (or more like, dragging.) She was dragging her recovery along instead.

After dinner, we had some good moments of chatting, laughing, and sharing jokes over a game of cards. Sure, it felt good to beat up on Norm once again after all these years. But all good things must come to an end, as they say. So, we bade our farewells and parted. Norm went back to Mom’s place for the night. He’ll be hitting the road home before the sun is out tomorrow morning. That leaves us with just two. Libby and I in what is a now-familiar setting. I have to make sure she takes her medication and tucks her safely into her bed before I go off to bed.

Of late, she has been gradually cutting back on the amount, or the frequency of those medicinal dosages. I was wary of her doing that because I’d always taken the view that: the physicians know far more than I do, what they are doing. And if they say: “take this,” you take it. You don’t want to go against the doctor’s order just because — at the present moment it may make you feel a bit better doing so. Only to find out later on that what you were doing was contributing to a process that was setting you back, a thousand years, even.

Yeah! I know, it’s a bit exaggerated. But you get the point I’m making. Right? However, I must hasten to say that. I’ve come to notice that whenever she does cuts back on the dosage or the frequencies. The difference in terms of her: looking, acting, and feeling better, is undeniable.

This particular evening, however. After my brother had left us to go back to my mom’s place. I did notice a somewhat withdrawn crankiness or reservation in her mood. Or something closely akin to that. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was there.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked under her breath. Taken aback, I halted abruptly in my tracks and stared at her.

“What… what?” I stumbled over the words.

“Nothing,” she said. Well, it wasn’t ‘nothing,’ it was big. I knew it right away. It was huge.” I’ve been around long enough to know that much: when a woman says nothing is wrong. It’s as close as you will probably ever get to everything being wrong. So, I gave her all of my attention. I went and sat right by her side and dug in. “Tell me hon, what’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?”

“Aren’t you even a little bit curious? How come you never…” Stop.

“Never what?” I inquired further, even though I was beginning to sense what the real issue was.

“You never look at me, I mean, really look at me.”

“Come on Lib. That’s not true, you know that is not true.”

“Okay, okay, so, maybe I’m stretching it a little bit here, but what I mean is…”

After a long pause,

“I want you to join me for a bath, tonight,” she said. I sat there and gazed into her eyes for a good two to three minutes without another word.

“Wait right there,” I whispered across her turned-up gaze, as I went into the bathroom and set up a bubble bath. For the next half hour, not a single word was spoken further between us. I set the bath, leaving the tub to fill up to the desired mark. Went and got fresh towels and lit a fragrant candle in the bathroom. Then after coming back into the room and sitting beside her again, I gazed deep into her eyes, (she was shaking.) It wasn’t the ill effects of the medicine this time, I could tell.

I reached out and took hold of her shoulders and pulled her in towards me as I leaned in to meet her, we kissed, gently, tenderly. I slowly pulled back, to focus on undoing the buttons on her blouse and opening it up. “Won’t be needing these in the bathtub you know,” I said in low tones, then turned to do the same for me. I was undoing the buttons on my shirt. She just sat there with her hands on her lap, head hanging low and not daring to look at me, yet.

I peel my shirt off and toss it aside. Then did the same for the already opened-up blouse, she shook and shivered some more. I leaned in and hugged her closely, skin to skin. I wanted her to feel the warmth within. I knelt in front of her and pulled at the slack she was wearing. She eased slightly upwards and backways to allow for it to go. Then, I removed my pants. She would not look at me, not directly anyway. I knew that she was sneaking a peek whenever the opportunity arose though.

I peeled away the bra starting with the strap on the shoulders, then spanned it around and unhitched the hooks. Yeah, look. Now we’re both equally attired. Both of us sporting only one piece of clothing. It was as close to the Adamic scene in the garden as the two of us had ever been before.

I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. As I was walking into the bathroom carrying her. She began to sing a sweet little song in my ear: tonight, I celebrate my love for you. And the midnight sun is gonna come shining through… I joined in at the most appropriate point for me: what I want most to do, is to make love to you… tonight. It was magical. (Adapted lyrics, I lay no claim to the same)

She stepped in and slid under the mushy bubbles while still hanging onto my hand. I stepped in with her. She threw both arms around my neck and pulled me in for a hot, wet, lingering kiss. Then we both leaned our backs into the support of the tub and sat there.

“You know.” I interrupted the silence. “I’ve been dreaming of a moment such as this but…”

“But what?”

“I did sort of envision some other things happening before we got to this part.”

“Like what?”

“Best if I leave that as it is, enough spoilers already for one night.”

We were to spend the rest of the night together, in her room, all night, in her bed. She just wanted to feel my body close to hers she’d said. To hold me, touch me, and squeeze me tight. She did it, I mean, we did all that, and more? Yes.

The trial should wrap up in a few days, and the verdict is expected to be handed down in court afterward. Libby said she’s planning on being there in person to hear it for herself.

To be continued.

That’s it for today. Be sure to join us again tomorrow or any time thereafter, for more, as we continue with this story. A story called “HOW to TRAIN A WILD PUPPY DOG NAMED MANLEY.” Don’t forget to like, share, and comment. We sure would appreciate it if you’d subscribe and follow us somewhere too, thank you.

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Just an excerpt from the “MANLEY Book.” A Novel, its available wherever books are sold. If you don’t see it, ask for it, they’ll get it for you.