The Help He Did Not Expect

This is my first ever submission. I have always like to create stories with a naughty twist. Right up front I need to tell you that the naughtiness starts slowly. I tend to want the reader get a feel for the main characters so when the sex happens there is a meaning to it. I've rarely enjoyed the wham bam thank you mamma type stories.

I would like to thank kenjisato for all of his grammar and spelling help. He has made my story more readable.

The Help He Did Not Expect

Matt Cooper and his wife were married for a little more than forty years, when her known heart-valve issue escalated unexpectedly, and she died. His world no longer made sense. He became a curmudgeon. He was angry at the world and everyone in it. No one wanted to be around him. Since he had retired at sixty-two, he had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. That was until his sixty-sixth birthday.

It was a cold, snowy day on his birthday. One of the local gas stations gave out a free cup of coffee and a donut to anyone on their birthday. So Matt slipped on his boots and winter jacket and headed out. As he pulled into the gas station parking lot, he noticed that people were baby-stepping in the parking lot, trying not to slip on the ice. He was lucky enough to get out of the car and into the gas station with no problem. After receiving his birthday coffee and donut, he tiptoed his way back to the car. Unfortunately, he misjudged where the ice was under the snow as he stepped off the curb, and went flying under his car.

He did not remember much of what happened after he fell. He came around in an emergency room bed, with his left arm in a sling and a nasty bump on the back of his head. He tried to look around the room, but every muscle in his body ached and his head was spinning. Matt was told that his left arm was broken and that he had a mild concussion.

The next day, he had a water-proof cast put on his left arm. After many concussion tests that showed everything was fine, he was released from the hospital. His oldest son, Joe, drove him home.

As they were driving, Joe explained, "I'm going to spend the day with you Dad, but I will have to go to work tonight. He continued, "The gas station's lawyer called me earlier today. They have completely admitted fault for not maintaining their parking lot. You were offered fifty thousand dollars, and they would cover all medical bills and a visiting nurse with an additional home healthcare aid aide."

"What is a home healthcare aide?" Matt asked.

"The person assigned to you is both a home healthcare aide and a housekeeper. They will cook and clean for you, as well as help you with bathroom and shower needs."

"I don't need any help!" barked Matt.

"Dad," Joe snapped back, "who is going to help you around the house? Who is going to cook and clean for you? AND... who is going to help you bathe and clean yourself?"

Matt's blood started boiling. In his mind, he didn't need anyone's help. "The nurse can come, but I don't need any home healthcare aid. I can take care of myself, thank you!" he grumbled.

"Fine," Joe said. "Take care of yourself."

They were both silent in the car.

Once they got to Matt's house, they did not talk to each other; they just sat in the living room and watched TV.

As the day went on, Matt was able to get out of the chair and go to the bathroom to urinate fine, but when he went back in later to sit on the toilet, he struggled to get up off of it. Eventually, he called out to his son to help him.

Neither one wanted to have the other one in there, but after his son figured it out by lifting him by one arm, Matt was able to get up off the toilet and headed back into the living room.

Joe announced that he needed to leave soon.

"Help me get into the shower," Matt grumbled.

"Here," Joe offered, as he handed his dad some adult body wipes the hospital had given him. "Use these. I'm not going to help you in and out of the shower when there is a perfectly good and paid-for service that you are too stubborn to accept."

"I'm not having a stranger see me naked or cleaning me," said Matt.

"None of the family is able to be here for 24-seven support for the next two-plus months to help you with all your needs. Please consider the services that have been offered to you," Joe said.

They did not say another word to each other until Joe was walking out the door.

"Um... Thank you," Matt said.

"No problem," his son replied, "I'll stop by after work. Please think about the free help that is offered to you."

That night, Matt needed to bathe really badly, but did not want to try to step over the tub wall to take a shower, so he used the adult wipes as best he could. It was impossible to reach everywhere with his broken arm. He could smell himself. It was not pleasant. He fell asleep in the recliner.

In the middle of the night, he urgently needed to sit on the toilet again. He was able to get out of the recliner and made it to the bathroom and plopped himself down onto the toilet. Once he was done, he realized that he could not stand up off of the toilet. His legs were too weak. He then tried to pull himself up and off with his right hand on the sink counter. Halfway up, his hand slipped and he fell to the ground. He cursed the sky as he tried to get up. It was no use. He needed both hands and arms to get up.

Lying on the floor, he realized that his flannel pants and underwear were still around his ankles. He tried to roll on his left side so he could use his right hand to pull them up. It hurt like crazy from the fall and his arm in the cast, but he eventually got his pants up enough to cover himself. Rolling back onto his back, and panting heavily, he wanted to curse the sky again. He was so angry at everyone and everything.

Lying on the floor was uncomfortable, but he had no choice. He could not get up and he could not crawl. Staring at the ceiling, he started thinking about his wife. He missed her. But it was the first time that he did not feel like he was in a bad dream, and that all he had to do was wake up. For the first time, he accepted that she was gone. But he was still mad about everything and everybody. As all of the things played in his mind, he drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, he thought he heard a voice in the distance. Matt was groggy when he looked around and remembered that he was on the bathroom floor.

At that point, Joe looked into the bathroom from the hallway and saw his dad on the floor. "Oh my god, Dad... What happened?? Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Matt, "I had to sit on the toilet in the middle of the night and could not stand back up afterwards."

Joe shook his head and grabbed at Matt's good arm, and eventually got him up off the floor. Matt's legs were numb and he could barely walk. His son helped him to the recliner where Matt plopped down.

"This is ridiculous," his son said, "the visiting nurse will be here in thirty minutes. If you do not accept the home healthcare aide person, I'll inform the nurse and she will contact the county. They will force you into a rehab facility. You might be forced to stay there until you die."

"Damn it!" yelled Matt. "Why can't everyone just leave me alone?"

"It's up to you," Joe said, as he sat down on the couch.

Right on time, the visiting nurse knocked on the door. Joe got up and let her in. Becca was her name. To Matt, she didn't look to be more than thirty-five or thirty-six years old. Matt was grumpy at first, but she was pretty and talking nicely to him. As she took his blood pressure and other vitals, Matt could smell her perfume. He liked the scent. Then he realized it was similar to one of the perfumes his wife would wear. It was the first little ray of sunshine in a long time. He stopped being as grumpy as he was.

When she was done with what she needed to do, she asked him if he had talked to his home healthcare aide. Joe was about to tell the nurse that his dad was refusing, when Matt spoke up.

"I... um... I have not yet. I was waiting for the painkillers to wear off, so I... um... was able to talk to them, myself."

Joe was stunned by his dad's one-eighty decision.

"Great," said Becca. "I see Esmeralda is assigned to you. I think she will be a good fit for you."

That put a small smile on Matt's face.

"I'll call her now to see when she can come over," said Becca.

As Becca stepped away from the two of them to make the call, Joe spoke up, "What made you change your mind, Dad?"

Matt smugly snapped at his son and said, "None of you are going to help and I am not going into a rehab facility."

"Well, good," said Joe, "it's what you need."

Just then, the nurse returned to the room, saying, "Esmeralda only lives a few miles from here. She will be here in a few minutes."

Sure enough, five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Joe opened it to let Esmeralda in.

Esmeralda looked like she was in her late forties. Obviously Hispanic, maybe five-foot-two or five-three with brown hair. She was curvy.

Joe introduced himself, and then led her to where Matt was sitting. "Dad," Joe said, "this is Esmeralda."

"Hello," said Esmeralda, as she extended her hand.

Matt just sat there and stared at her. Esmeralda withdrew her hand back with a questioned look on her face.

"Dad!" said Joe, out loud. "What is wrong with you?"

Matt replied, "Could everyone excuse me while I talk to my son in private,"

Becca and Esmeralda stepped over into the kitchen.

Once it was just the two of them, Matt spoke to his son in a low voice, "She is NOT going to work out."

"Why?" asked Joe.

It took Matt a few seconds to gather his thoughts, then said, "She doesn't look strong enough to help me up and down. She may cook something that I... I don't like... and... and... I don't get along with Mexicans."

"I can't believe it," said Joe. "You're going to play the race card on her? That is ridiculous."

"It's how I feel," said Matt. "You're not going to change me."

Joe started pacing back and forth in the living room, with his hands on his sides. After pacing around, Joe sputtered out, "That is IT! I quit. I'll have Becca call the county and that will be that!"

Apparently, both Becca and Esmeralda heard some or all of the conversation and the outburst from Joe. Together, they walked into the living room. Both looked mad, but it was Esmeralda who spoke up first.

"Mr. Cooper. You don't know me. You are trying to typecast me with everyone else of my ethnicity. I can cook just about any common American food. And for my abilities to assist you in getting up..." she grabbed his good arm and, as well as Joe had done, lifted Matt up and out of his chair.

Matt stood there, stunned, staring at her. He saw determination in her eyes. After a few seconds, Matt pulled his arm away from hers slowly, and sat back down in his chair. A bit shaken, he looked at Becca, then Esmeralda, and then his son.

"Well!" said Esmeralda.

"Umm," started Matt, "I... I don't know. Uh... um... well, I guess we can... um, try it for a day or two."

"I have to sign up for at least thirty days to get paid my full salary," said Esmeralda.

Matt looked at his son for sympathy, but didn't see it in his eyes. So he turned to Esmeralda, and asked, "How often can you come here? How long will you stay when you get here? Will you be willing to try some of my favorite recipes?"

"First of all," Esmeralda said, "I'm a damn good cook and can make anything. Second, I am contracted for up to three visits a day, but since you would be my only client and I live less than five minutes away, I can come or go a little more often. I am an empty-nester as well as a widow, so I can be here a little more than some others can, but I don't want to be taken advantage of."

Stuttering a little, Matt replied, "That, uh... that works for me. When can you start?"

"I can return this afternoon. Is that good enough?" asked Esmeralda.

"Uh, yes," said Matt.

"I'll make you dinner when I return," she said.

Becca and Esmeralda walked out of the door together, and Joe was gathering his jacket.

"This better work out, Dad, or you know what will happen to you," said Joe.

"I know; I know... I'll give her a chance," Matt said.

___________________________________________

Matt asked Joe to leave the door unlocked for when Esmeralda would return. He didn't want to have to get up out of the chair to open it. Around five o'clock, there was a tap on the door.

"Come in," said Matt.

Esmeralda let herself in and approached Matt sitting in his chair. In a snarky tone, Esmeralda asked, "Have I arrived at a good time?"

Matt replied, "Yes, thank you."

"Since I'm new here, and don't know the layout, may I check out the rest of your house for now?" asked Esmeralda.

"Of course," said Matt.

He watched her enter the kitchen, and then a minute later, she exited it and headed down the hallway. Matt did not like the fact that with him sitting in his chair, he could not see where she was, or what she was doing. Matt struggled to get up and out of the chair. Walking to the hallway, he saw her exit his bedroom.

"Your room and bathroom could use a good tidying up," Esmeralda said.

With a furrow in his brow, Matt said, "There is nothing there you need to touch."

"Fine," she said, "I won't ever go in there again."

Not sure if she was trying to be honest or just being snarky, Matt shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the living room.

Esmeralda turned into the kitchen, and before Matt was able to sit down, she asked, "Is there anything in particular you are wanting me to make for dinner tonight?"

"Well," said Matt, "you can just open a can of chili for me."

"Now wait," she answered back, "part of my job is to provide a better variety of healthy food for you."

"Hold on," he thundered back, "I'm not eating any foo-foo healthy food from Mexico,"

On hearing him say that, Esmeralda stormed into the living room, and said, "Listen here, buster! I am not taking any of your racist bullshit! If you genuinely do not like Mexican food because you do not care for the taste, that is one thing."

Matt was not used to anyone talking back to him. As she stood there, with her arms folded on her chest staring at him, Matt decided to play it cool... for now.

"Uh... I'm, uh, sorry. No one has been to the grocery store for over a week. Take a look at what is in the kitchen," he said.

She stared at him for a few seconds, then she slowly turned and entered the kitchen. Matt turned and sat down in his chair. As he reached for the TV remote, he heard her say from the kitchen, "There is small canned ham in here, I can cook that with some vegetables. Is that satisfactory?"

"Um... yes... um... thank you."

About an hour later, Esmeralda called from the kitchen, "Everything is ready. Do you want to eat at the table or at your chair?"

"The chair for now... if you don't mind," he replied. Matt moved the TV tray from the side of his chair to in front of him.

She entered with a plate of food and a glass of ice tea. "I hope you don't mind," Esmeralda said, "I made some sweet tea with lemon."

"My favorite," Matt exclaimed.

"I will be at the kitchen table if you want anything," Esmeralda stated.

"You don't have to eat in there," Matt said, "there is an extra TV tray that you can use."

She looked him up and down for a second, and then said, "Hmm... okay... I'll be right back." She went back into the kitchen, then returned in a few minutes with her food, setting it on the TV tray.

The TV commercial ended and the program started back up. It was one of those crime drama shows based on real events. Matt grabbed the TV remote, and said, "I don't have to watch this if you don't want to."

"Um... no... I like those kinds of shows," said Esmeralda.

After they both ate, Esmeralda took all the dishes into the kitchen and loaded up the dishwasher. Returning to the living room, Esmeralda said, in a bit of a snarky tone, "I HOPE the food was satisfactory."

"It..." Matt stuttered, "It was, um... good. You made the green beans like my wife used to make them."

"Well," she started, "when I opened up the cabinets with the canned goods in them, I saw several recipes that were marked with an 'M' and a check mark next to it. I assumed they were recipes that you liked so... I followed that one for the green beans."

At first, Matt's quick temper was about to jump her for spying, when a little voice in the back of his head told him not to. The food was delicious and the tea was welcoming. So... instead of snapping at her, he said, "Um. Wow. I forgot about the inside-the-cabinet-door recipe list. That green bean dish was one of my wife's favorite sides."

"That is good," she said.

At that point, Matt had the urge to urinate. He rocked himself in the chair a few times, and eventually stood up. "Um... excuse me," Matt said, "I need to use the... bathroom."

"Okay," said Esmeralda, "do you need any help?"

"No... uh, no," he said, "I'm only going... uh..." pausing a bit embarrassed, "number one."

Looking like she was trying to not laugh at a toddler, she said, "Oookay, Mr. Cooper."

"Please, just call me Matt."

"I will try to remember," Esmeralda said.

Matt then walked down the hallway, and then entered the bathroom, closing the door. It actually was a bit of a struggle to use just the one hand to fish out his penis from his pants. After struggling, he finally was able to free it. He leaned down to lift the seat, and then fell forward, only barely catching himself with his good hand before smacking his forehead into the wall above the toilet. With a sigh of relief, he pushed himself back onto his feet. He was then struggling to urinate after the near fall.

At that point, there was a knock on the door.

"What?" Matt barked.

"Are you okay, Mr. Matt? I heard a loud thud in the bathroom."

"Uh... nope... all is good,"

"Are you sure?" she asked, again. "I am here if you need help."

"No... uh... don't come in. I'm, ah, trying to use the bathroom," Matt replied.

"Please, Mr. Matt," Esmeralda said through the door. "I don't want you to get hurt. This is what I am here for."

"I'm fine. I'm fine, just... leave me alone so I can pee," he said, without thinking.

"Okay," was all she said. Esmeralda thought it was a bit funny that he was some mean, brute man who couldn't even say pee.

Seeing that she had walked away, Matt turned his attention to trying to pee. All this talk and almost falling was distracting him. Try and try and try, he could not pee; it was almost as if someone was watching him. After a few minutes, he gave up. Pulling up his jogging pants as best he could with one hand, he opened the door and walked back to his chair.

As he sat back down into his chair, Esmeralda said, "Did you pee? I did not hear the toilet flush."

Matt was a little embarrassed, but replied, "Actually, I did not." He continued, "Too many distractions."

"Well maybe, you can try a little bit later," Esmeralda said.

Matt felt flustered. He was not used to needing anyone to help him with anything, and here he was struggling with the most minor tasks.

Esmeralda went into the kitchen to finish cleaning up. At that time, Matt turned on the TV. Once again, a true crime drama show was on. After finishing in the kitchen, Esmeralda came back into the living room and sat down where she had sat before. The episode ended at eight o'clock.

During the commercial, Esmeralda said, "I am officially off the clock now, so if you need anything else before I Ieave, please let me know now."

"No... uh, I'm good. You can go," said Matt.

"I don't want to be rude Mr. Matt," said Esmeralda, "but you have not bathed in a while and I can help you with that."

"Look, I really appreciate the dinner and you cleaning up, but I can't have you in the bathroom with me... uh... helping me in the shower, and... all. It's... it's just too embarrassing."