The problem with lying in bed doing nothing is it gives me too much time to think. To think about Christina, to think about my new job and to think about why Rick felt it necessary to try and nearly succeed in killing me.

I get shot and I'm feeling guilty? I know that part of that is due to my trying to do my clients and Christina a favor by putting them together. I thought it was a win-win but hadn't counted on Dan siccing Rick on them.

I wondered if I was really the target or was it Christina? Or both? I guess I'd never know. I do know it was better me than her. I was like that Timex watch, capable of taking a licking and keep on ticking. 'Tony Timex' had been my nickname in high school after a couple of toughs thought they had me down when I jumped back up and used the boxing skills dad taught me.

You don't get far in the construction trade if you aren't tough. Dad was respected because he didn't back down but he didn't go looking for trouble either. He just told me if someone else started it to make sure I finished it.

Of course that doesn't help much when the other guy has a gun and is willing to use it. I just hope what happened didn't give Christina nightmares. I had only that one, thinking about Rick shooting Christina. The thought of her being the one lying on that tile floor instead of me was just too awful to contemplate.

I also questioned my feelings for Christina. Was it because she was there when mom died? Was she a substitute for her somewhere deep inside? I know I liked her an awful lot, maybe even loved her. But did I love her enough to get past what she was and maybe still is?

I had too much time to think about this. I wondered once again who I could talk too. Events had gotten in the way before I had the chance to do anything but look online and that was a morass of information, speculation and sexual deviation. I know one of the best sources is living in my house if I could only talk to her without my libido getting in the way.

At the moment my thoughts about Christina were all I had as my body has decided to take a vacation from showing any sexual interest. I sure hope that it's temporary. I may not be a big fan of morning wood but it's better than morning wouldn't.

I wanted to ask the doctor but she reminded me too much of mom and it just wasn't the kind of question you asked mom.

About the only good thing about getting shot is I should be getting out of the hospital about the same time as mom got released from the morgue so I could say a proper goodbye. I know she'd tell me to thank Christina and the doctor for keeping me from joining her.

I worked some more after Jess left, mostly to keep my mind off what she said. If she only knew just how much I wanted to be in that hospital room with Tony. Sometimes we can't do the things we want. My high school English teacher would probably say, "can't?" She'd be right, I could but didn't.

I stared at blood on the tile floor and looked online for the best way to clean it up. Part of me wanted to scrub the whole scene away if I could. The EMTs had taken Tony away with my tee shirt still plugging the hole in his chest. I'm not sure I could have coped with that reminder.

I found a mop and bucket and steeled myself to get the job done. The sooner it was the sooner the vivid reminder would only be in my head. Despite my best efforts a stain remained. I would just use the side or back door until I could get a professional cleaner in.

My efforts had worn me out so I packed things away and got ready for bed. I thought being so tired that I would fall right asleep but for the first time in a long time I felt lonely. Jess had shared my bed the other night but I couldn't use her as a crutch. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling until I finally got up and started wandering.

I thought about going into his mom's room and playing some records like he had the other night but those were his memories not mine. I passed by his room again and stopped and went back.

I slipped into the room. The bed was unmade and looked comfortably slept in. I sat on the edge looking at his closet, staring at his shirts. I almost went and grabbed one but instead I threw myself back on his bed grabbing his pillow and clutching it to my chest and face.

It smelled faintly of him and his cologne. My tears intensified the scent as I cried myself to sleep, curled around the pillow.

I looked forward to seeing Christina this afternoon. Both of us were busy this morning. The doctor was going to do a check up on my wound again after I got a nice sponge bath and change.

I hadn't felt this helpless since, well since I was a little boy. Only now I wasn't so little and it took two nurses, one of them Samantha, to do it and I think all four cheeks were red with embarrassment. I couldn't wait until I could be up and take a shower. I never thought I'd find the idea of sitting on a commode to be something I'd look forward too!

Once I was clean and all my bedding changed the nurse's aide appeared to feed me some oatmeal and let me nibble on a piece of buttered toast. I hoped she didn't think I was having nasty thoughts about her as I closed my eyes and moaned in pleasure at the taste of solid food.

The doctor appeared to check on her work and must have been on rounds with several residents as she gave a very clinical description of my wound and what she had done. It was the first time I heard the details and it almost seemed like she must be talking about someone else until she uncovered my wound.

I was glad Christina wasn't here for this as the residents examined my wound closely and peppered the doctor AND me with questions. It was also the first time I found out I had also gotten a concussion from my head hitting the hard tile floor. Maybe I could use that as an excuse for 'Pretty Face.'

After having one of the residents redress my wound under her direction the doctor and her flock moved on as I could hear her say, "you'll find the next patient really interesting." I wanted to go along to find out too. Apparently gunshot wounds aren't nearly so exciting.

I was alone again and of course my nose decided this was the time to itch. My hands twitched as I started to reach and then I thought about having to explain to the doctor and her residents exactly why I'd pulled my stitches again.

If Christina were only here to scratch it. Of course then there would be more than one itch to scratch. For a moment I almost forgot my itching nose but then it was back with a vengeance. I hit the call button and of course it was Samantha who came and asked what I wanted.

Then I just had to stick my foot in my mouth as I said, "I have an itch." Samantha just broke out laughing.

"I'm sure Christina would be happy to scratch it for you," she managed to get out between bouts of laughter.

"My nose. My nose itches!"

I glared at her and then thought better of it as she turned to leave.

"Please!"

"Since you said please. . . "

"Aaaaaaaaah."

"Just like a man. I scratch his itch and what do I get?"

"A big thank you? I'd send flowers but some people might get the wrong idea."

She laughed and left the room.

I woke up feeling refreshed but still clutching his pillow. I wandered back into my room and saw the time.

"Oh hell, I'm supposed to talk with my therapist in ten minutes and I looked like. . . don't go there, just pull yourself together."

I stripped and grabbed the first things I could find. I debated saying the camera was broken but knew she'd see right through me. I threw the blouse on and ran into the study and sat behind the desk.

I was just in time only to find a strange man looking back at me.

"Hi, Dr. Shaw had an emergency callout and asked me to fill in if that's ok with you. I'm Dr. Shaw also, her husband."

"I guess so. Do you know anything about me?"

"She gave me your file. We usually don't discuss each other's patients in case you're wondering. She felt you needed to talk and as dealing with trauma patients is my specialty she thought you might actually benefit from talking with me."

Just then Jess popped her head in and looked at me.

"Auntie why are you talking to a strange man wearing just a blouse and panties? You're not doing one of those cam things are you?"

"Dr. Shaw, this is my "barge right in" niece, Jessica.

Jessica, this is my therapist's husband, who is also one."

"He's sure got a strange bedside manner. Are you sure he's a doctor?"

"I'm sitting behind a desk Jess. I didn't have time to get dressed. I also didn't expect you to tell him what I'm wearing or not wearing!"

"Dr. Shaw, I may need extra therapy after I kill my niece. I'd do it right now but I can't get up at the moment."

"Jessica is it?"

"Yes sir."

"Why don't you put your hand over the camera while your aunt goes and gets fully dressed. In fact after she leaves the room we might have a little talk if that's ok with you."

"Okay, you aren't going to yell at me are you?"

"Nothing like that Jessica. We'll just have a little chat about boundaries. Now please put your hand over the camera until your aunt leaves the room."

She did, and I rushed out and back upstairs to my bedroom. I sat down and decided to give the doctor a few minutes before I returned. It would also allow me a few minutes to get my embarrassment and anger in check, which I'm sure was what Dr. Shaw intended.

I gave him about fifteen minutes and made my way back down. I walked into the room and was hit by a crying whirlwind. I looked up at Dr. Shaw.

"What did you say to her? It wasn't that bad!"

"That's not why she's crying, Christina.

Do you want to tell her Jessica?"

I looked down at her tear-stained face as she squeezed me even harder.

"I almost lost you Auntie. You're all I have left in this world and that man could have killed you!"

"Oh honey, I didn't know!"