Hammer & Nails (11 page)

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Ten
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~ Nolan ~

Over the next month, I get more and more involved in the renovation. Harley teaches me how to tape and spackle. She teaches me how to lay tile, and the correct way to paint a wall. I find it all very interesting, and I’m not too bad at it. Harley likes to tease me, saying that she’s going to whip me into shape and make a handyman out of me.

I’ve also started going with her to dinner at her dad’s once a week. I really enjoy being around her family. They are a great group, and I find myself laughing more than ever. My father hasn’t spoken to me since our big argument. Actually, I’ve barely been back to his house since I’ve taken to staying with Harley. Almost all of my clothes have found their way to her house over the past month, so I really don’t have a reason to go back to my dad’s.

My house will be habitable soon, so I can move in there, which is going to be hard because then I won’t be sleeping next to Harley every night. And I find that I really like it. I like waking up to her in the morning. I like our little conversations over breakfast, and I enjoy cooking dinner together. I also like relaxing on the couch and watching TV with her. We’ve just gotten so comfortable living in the same space that I can’t imagine going back to living in a house alone.

Harley and I have been working on my house on the weekends just to try to get the project done a little faster. Her dad and brothers have also started coming to help on the weekends. I’m grateful for all of their help.

“Babe, let me show you how to use the miter saw, that way you can cut the trim while I start installing it. It’ll go faster that way,” Harley says.

“Okay.”

So Harley goes over the details of working the miter saw with me. We do a couple of trial runs, and when I feel comfortable enough to work it myself, she heads into the other room to start installing the pieces we’ve already cut. I’m working in the office and Harley is across the foyer in the family room.

I just placed another piece of wood on the saw and turn it on when a hand claps me hard on the back, making the hand that’s holding the wood steady jerk forward. The middle finger on my left hand slips under the blade just as I bring it down, cutting everything - from the first joint on - clean off.

“Oh Jesus, Nolan! Oh god, I’m sorry!” John exclaims in horror.

I lift my hand up, not really comprehending what I’m seeing. It’s like I’m looking at it from outside of my body. My hand is completely drenched in blood with it running in little rivers down my arm. It doesn’t hurt. I hear John and Nate’s frantic voices calling for Harley but it sounds somewhat muffled. Part of my finger is missing. Gone. Not there. When I look at the miter saw, I see it. The missing piece is lying on the trim that I was cutting, a small puddle of blood under it.

Harley comes flying into the room. “What? What the hell is going on?” she barks before her eyes land on me.

She screams, her hands flying up to her mouth, and then bolts over to me. “What the fuck happened?” she demands, shooting death glares at her dad and brother.

“I was trying to say hi. I clapped him on the back just as he brought the saw down. I didn’t think that he was going to jerk like he did!” John cries, his hands laced on top of his head.

My stomach rolls. There is so much blood. It’s dripping off my elbow and onto the floor.

“Goddammit, Dad!”

“Harley, I don’t feel so good,” I breathe.

“I know, baby. Nate! Get me a folding chair!” she snaps.

A second later, Harley helps me sit on the metal folding chair. My breathing is rapid and my peripheral vision is gone. I feel like I might pass out.

“Dad, get Nolan’s severed finger and wrap it in a wet paper towel then put it in a baggie. After that, grab my cooler bag, take the drinks out of it and put his finger in there with the ice packs,” she says, sounding like she’s completely in control and knows exactly what she’s doing. Thank God, because I’m no help. “Nate, call an ambulance then go to my truck and grab my first aid kit.”

“On it,” Nate says and pulls out his phone to call 911. I hear Nate talking on the phone with 911 as he starts for the door and pray that the ambulance gets here quickly.

“Can’t Nate take care of the finger?” her dad, John, groans.

“No! You made Nolan cut it off so you can take care of it!”

I hear Nate’s laughter fade as he runs outside to Harley’s truck. Harley strokes a soothing hand down the back of my head and neck. “Deep breathes, Nolan, you’re hyperventilating.”

“So…much…blood…I feel sick,” I pant and prop the elbow of my good hand on my knee then drop my forehead into my hand.

“Don’t look at it. Keep your hand elevated, you’re going to be fine,” she says, continuing to stroke my head and neck with one hand while her other hand is under my elbow helping me keep it elevated.

“It’s starting to hurt,” I moan.

“Okay, sweetie. Nate’s called the ambulance and they should be here any minute,” she says softly.

Nate comes rushing back in with Harley’s first aid kit. She’s got a pretty decent kit because of the possibilities of something like this happening. She starts wrapping my finger in gauze.

“I got his finger on ice,” John’s strained voice says from somewhere in front of me.

If I lift my head, I might barf, so I don’t even bother trying to see where he is. He sounds like shit, though.

“Good, hopefully they can reattach it,” Harley murmurs. “You’re doing great, Nolan. Just keep breathing,” Harley says, her voice calm and in control.

Thank God, she is calm because if it were the other way around, I’d be freaking the hell out. I can’t believe that my finger just got cut off. The pain is starting to really set in and it’s bad.

~ Harley ~

It’s been a long friggin’ day. We obviously spent almost the entire day at the hospital where they reattached Nolan’s finger. It took a couple of hours because the surgery is so tedious. The doctor said that the reattachment went well and he should be fully healed in a few months, but it’s hard to say what kind of mobility he will have. That’s a wait and see kinda thing.

I guide Nolan, who is doped up on pain meds, into the house. The doctor wrapped his middle finger along with his pointer and ring fingers, using them as a brace. Nolan shuffles into the bedroom and crawls onto the bed using his good hand. The hospital gave him a pair of scrubs, since his clothes were ruined from being covered in blood. He lies down on his back and sighs heavily.

“Let’s get you out of these scrubs,” I murmur and start by pulling his shoes off.

Nolan just grunts, his eyes drifting closed.

I untie the string at his waist then pull the pants down his legs. I then help him sit up so I can work the scrub shirt over his head, being careful with his hand. Nolan lies back down.

“Thank you for everything today, Harley. I would have been lost without you,” Nolan murmurs sleepily, his bleary gaze barely able to focus on me.

I smile and sit down on the bed next to him. I smooth my hand over his hair. “You’re welcome.”

“How did you know what to do with my finger?” he asks.

“With the possibility of losing or injuring fingers in my profession being so high, I read up on it just in case,” I tell him.

“You’re so smart,” he murmurs, closing his eyes again.

“Thank you. How about you get some sleep?” I suggest, leaning down to give him a kiss on the lips.

He nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” I smile and kiss him one more time.

“I love you, Harley,” he whispers, cracking his eyes open to look at me.

My heart flutters madly in my chest. Does he really mean that or is it just the pain meds talking?

“You do?” I breathe.

He nods. “I knew it the day after I spent my first night here with you. When I argued with my dad that morning at work, I told him twice that I loved you.”

Oh my god! He’s serious! He might not have meant to tell me while on pain meds, but he really does mean it. Tears prick my eyes. He loves me! And I love him. This past month has shown me that and I fall more and more in love with him every day that we’re together.

“I love you, too, Nolan,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss him on the lips again.

Nolan smiles against my lips. “Say it again,” he whispers.

“I love you.”

“Remind me tomorrow in case I forget,” he mutters right before he drifts off.

I chuckle, give him one more kiss on his slack lips, and then leave him to rest. I’m tired and could probably sleep, but I need to unwind my brain a little bit. I go out into the living room and watch TV for a little while before crawling into bed and snuggling up next to the man I love.

The next morning, I wake up to Nolan groaning in pain. When I open my eyes, Nolan is sitting up, his feet on the floor, and his back to me.

“Hey, let me get you your pain medicine,” I tell him and throw the covers aside.

“Please,” he croaks.

I rush into the kitchen where I placed his bottle of pain pills on the counter last night. I grab a pill and a glass of water then go back into the bedroom. Nolan is still sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over, clutching his injured hand to his chest. The doctor warned that the pain could be intense because of all the nerves that are in your hand and fingers. And the pain can last throughout most of the healing process.

“Here, sweetie,” I murmur.

Nolan holds out his good hand and I set the pill in his palm. He tosses it in his mouth then takes the glass of water, downing half of it. He hands me back the glass and mutters a pained, “Thanks.” I feel so badly for him. This is not going to be a pleasant recovery, and the doctor told him to take it easy for the first week.

“Nolan, you need to call your dad and tell him that you need to take off from work for a week or two,” I say, knowing that he is going to hate having to call his dad.

Nolan told me shortly after it happened that he got into a huge argument with his dad about me. He left out the part where he told his dad that he loved me, though. His father hasn’t spoken to him since. Not even at work.

Nolan groans. “I can’t take off; I have too much to do for the benefit.”

“Babe, you can’t drive while on pain meds much less function well enough to get work done.”

Nolan hangs his head. “Fuck.” he sighs. “I, at least, need to go into the office to give all of the benefit stuff to Brock so that he can take over. Do you think you can take me?” he asks, lifting his head to look at me.

“Of course.” I smile.

He tries to smile but it falls short, instead just looking like a pained grimace. “Thank you.”

~ Nolan ~

Harley helps me get dressed in the one pair of Adidas training pants that I have and a plain white long-sleeved T-shirt. It’s November now, so it’s getting really cold out. Once I’m dressed, she makes me eat a banana to put something in my stomach so I don’t get sick from the pain medicine. I don’t think that she realizes how naturally nurturing she is. She’s going to make a great mother someday.

Harley gets dressed in jeans and sweater. She’s been leaving her hair down when she’s not working because she knows I like it. And I think it’s really sweet that she does it just for me. It’s then that I remember our little conversation last night before I fell asleep. Damn, that’s not the way I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but I guess it was as good a timing as any.

As she helps me into my coat, I ask her, “Were you supposed to remind me about something today?”

She smirks. “Yes, I was.”

“And? What was it?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Her smile widens. “You told me that you loved me last night,” she says, buttoning up my gray peacoat.

I smile. “And?”

She looks up into my eyes, clutching the lapels of my coat. “I love you, too.”

I nod and lean down to kiss her.

“I’m happy that you actually remembered,” she says.

“Well, I meant it. I love you so much, you mean everything to me,” I reiterate.

She smiles softly and I can see her eyes well up with tears. “That makes me so happy, you have no idea. And you should know that you mean everything to me, too.”

I drop my forehead to hers. My heart feels so full that I’m pretty sure it might burst. To think that only a few short months ago we were at each other’s throats most of the time. How did that turn into love? I really have no explanation, but I’m glad it did.

After a quick kiss, we head out to Harley’s truck. A few minutes after we pull out of the driveway, my cell phone rings. I dig it out of my pocket and check the screen. It’s John Jameson. I swipe my finger across the screen to answer it.

I put the phone to me ear. “Hey, John.”

I see Harley glance at me from the corner of my eye.

“Hey, Nolan,” he murmurs softly. “How are you feeling today?”

“I woke up hurting, but the meds are starting to kick in, so I’m doing better.”