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Henry hesitated at the bathroom door in Eileen's new apartment. "Are... are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked.
Eileen was used to hearing that by now, but it didn't bother her. It was just Henry; he was like that.
"See, the thing is, with my arm and leg like this I can't just take a shower. The cast can't get wet. Plus there's my leg, it's not supposed to get wet either. But if I sort of sit on a chair in the tub and you use a washcloth, that would work. I can do some of it myself, but you could do what I can't reach, and wash my hair, if I tilt my head back."
He was blushing already. That was Henry too, and it was cute. She was finally to the point where she could appreciate cute.
"Henry, I'm wearing my underwear." She would have put on a bathing suit, but getting dressed and undressed was hard enough already.
"Um... I know. But shouldn't you call a woman to do this?"
Eileen sighed. "My friends are nice, but I'm a bad liar and I really don't want to tell them about what happened. And the nursing agency would cost a fortune."
Henry nodded. "Yeah, I don't exactly like talking about what happened either."
He didn't exactly like talking, thought Eileen to herself with a smile.
"I haven't had a bath since my last sponge bath in the hospital," she finally said firmly. "If you would just do this for me."
Henry nodded. "I won't let you down, Eileen."
The chair was waiting in the bathtub and she awkwardly made her way over to it and sat down. Henry ran the water and soaped up a washcloth.
"Is the number still there on my back?" Eileen asked. She hadn't even been able to ask in the hospital, but her fear was gradually receding.
"No, it... you can barely tell."
Very gently, she felt him soap and wash her back. Then he ran the washcloth down her good leg, kneeling by the tub to reach even her foot. There was a plastic cup by the tub, and he used it to rinse the soap off her skin. She sighed with relief. It was so good to finally feel clean... and so good to be with Henry and not running for her life.
"I can't quite get the top of my good arm, either," she reminded him.
"Right." He ran soap over her shoulder and down her arm, then moved the washcloth over her belly, rubbing it slowly around her navel.
"Um, Henry?"
"Yeah?"
"That feels great, but actually I can reach there myself..."
"Oh!" Henry shouted, dropped the washcloth and backed away so quickly he slipped and fell against the wall of the bathroom.
"Are you all right?" she asked with concern.
He stood up. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry."
"Really?" he asked with an innocent look in his eyes.
"Really."
He came back near the tub and picked up the washcloth. "You know, Eileen, maybe some time when you're feeling better we can, um, go out someplace."
She could barely believe he got the words out, but they sent a jolt of happiness through her she had thought she might never feel again.
"I'd like that, Henry," she replied. "But for now, will you just wash my hair?"