Book of Days
It took Amy four seconds to realize that Adam's arm was digging into the back of her neck. She loosed herself from his grip and turned her eyes to their ceiling.
It was the tenth day of their "Vacation"; four days after Adam's surgery. A doorbell downstairs demanded she leave the bedroom and answer the door; it was a nurse, here to check Adam's vitals and give him a sponge bath.
Amy didn't trust herself giving him a bath. The efficient but sweet nurse wasn't his type and did an efficient job with the redhead's lover.
While she worked with Adam, Amy made breakfast: tea, toast, fruit and cereal, with lean sausage for protein. The nurse, a Caribbean woman whose name was Angelique, accepted a cup of tea sweetened with brown sugar.
She praised Adam for his progress; she praised Amy, who had made great strides since her own surgery months before. Amy smiled, hollowly; her neck still ached, but it was bearable, and she, unlike Adam, could remain mobile.
When the nurse returned to her clinic, Amy busied herself by cleaning up downstairs; then, she helped Adam with certain physical chores, things that proved how very much she loved him.
She fed their dog, a collie named Riposte, who didn't seem to like this generic Georgia dog food.
He seemed to ask her: 'when are we going back to Carolina?'
Amy didn't know the answer to that. It would be two weeks more before Adam could sit comfortably in a car. Until then they were stuck in this rented townhouse in a more sedate suburb of Atlanta.
Her entire morning burned away as she traveled up and down the stairs, helping Adam, delivering things to him. He had waited on her after her own neck surgery, so it was only fair that she return the favor.
That afternoon, she decided to try lifting her lightest arm weights. It was against her doctor's orders. The resulting pain caused her to back off.
She settled down, watching an afternoon's worth of soap operas with Adam. He understood who Steffano DiMera was. That scared her.
When she asked Adam how he felt, he announced that he wanted a cheese sandwich. Amy made it, understanding that he didn't want to talk about it. Amy understood her own feelings; boredom; not a yearning to return to the business.
Stacy called that evening.
To Amy's horror, she felt even less in common with the young blonde now that distance had left its taint in her life. As she talked about the latest storyline the writers had placed her in, Amy realized she hadn't watched Raw in four weeks.
She squirmed out of her conversation with Stacy and began dinner.
After she fed Adam, and he fell asleep watching Friends, Amy crept from their bed and picked apart the Sunday paper. Her eyes fell to the classified section.
She spread it open. It was time to make herself useful to the world....