Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 34.1 - You've Got a Friend

I knock on Jill’s door and hear her sniff and start shifting around, “Just a minute,” she calls out. 

“Crap, she’s been crying,” I frown.  I recognize that mucous-filled voice and quick sniff.  I’ve heard it in my own voice far too much over the last couple of weeks.  Besides, I know my Jilly. 

“Come in,” she says a few minutes later.  The tissues are gone, but her red nose and watery eyes confirm my suspicion.  Her head-scarf is crooked and I can see a fresh scar snaking along her scalp.  Her beautiful honeyed-hair is only starting to grow back. 

“Brought you some lunch,” I tell her and put the plate on the bedside table next to her. 

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbles, looking down. 

“And I’m not leaving until you eat,” I sit down in the chair at the tiny desk in the room, “And you know who’s more stubborn between us.” 

She sniffs and I see a tear fall into her lap.  “Jill,” I try another tactic, “We do need to talk, but that can wait until you’re stronger.  I’m not mad at you – not anymore.” 

She doesn’t answer. 

“Look,” I go to run my hand through my hair, but she cringes and I drop my hand, “God, I’m so stupid,” I growl to myself, “Of course she feels horrible.  Of course she’s depressed.  She’s bald and scarred and feels ugly.” 

“Look,” I say again, “Let’s go back to your cellular-biology.  Cells need what to thrive?” 

She half-raises her eyes, wondering where I’m going with this, “Oxygen and fuel,” she responds. 

“Fuel,” I point at the plate, “Protein, carbohydrates and fat,” she lifts her face for the first time, “Yes, fat.  You need fat, Jill.  You’re way too skinny and your brain needs fat to cover your neural-sheaths and help transmit signals.  Plus vitamins and minerals,” I stand up and put the plate in her lap, still pointing at her dinner, “Calcium, selenium, magnesium, iron – do you need me to go on?” 

She glances at the plate and then back to me again, but her eyes move to the wall in front of her, “I thought you weren’t mad?” she asks, voice warbling and eyes shining-up again. 

“I’m not mad at you, Jilly,” I sit very gently next to her cocooned legs, “I’m mad at Jojo and Jamie for not taking care of you properly.  Now, please eat.” 

She picks up a chicken-taco and nibbles at it, “Jojo is hardly here since she’s been with Brent and Jamie,” she sighs and leaks a tear, “It’s just awkward.” 

“More,” I tell her gently, “You eat and I’ll talk.  I don’t expect you to finish it all right now, but I do expect you to do so in the next couple of days.  Who’s your osteopath?” 

“Doctor Campbell,” she answers, “Why?” 

“Because you need to be on vitamins as well as pain-pills,” I tell her, “You – the doctor I know – knows that.  I suspect that you may have a prescription around here somewhere but never filled it.  So we’re going to get you something stronger.  And you will take it as prescribed.” 

“So, you’re hanging around for a while?” she asks and then takes a bigger bite.  I know my Jilly – she can’t resist Manny’s shredded chicken tacos. 

“I don’t know,” I tell her, “I have a twenty-four hour layover period amended to my agreement, but sometimes it takes a while before my next assignment comes through.  But as long as I’m here I’m your shadow.”