by Cheryl Wyatt
He gave his bedside table a little shove. Maybe too hard. It bumped his crutches propped up against the wall at the head of his bed. They slid sideways and clattered to the floor.
He lay back and groaned. Where was that reacher thing that came in his hip kit? His precautions wouldn’t allow him to bend or squat to get the crutches. He scanned the room.
Great. His hip kit sat near his closet…across the room.
Manny eyed the call light. Nah, he’d figure a way to do this himself. He was sick and tired of having to call for help every time he needed to blow his nose, brush his teeth or blink.
Why couldn’t he remember to leave stuff within reach?
He’d spent five days post-op in the hospital, then five days in the short-term rehab center where he was now. Nurses and physical therapists waited on him hand and foot. Even to the humiliating point of having to help him use the bedpan.
He’d been subjected to daily bed baths with sticky soap and stinky lotion and towels that were never big enough. Not to mention hard beds and lumpy pillows that squeaked every time he moved, then drenched his head with sweat once sleep did come. When he had finally gotten to shower, the water had been tepid.
He loathed the line-over, the grove of trees and the gust of wind that had reduced him to this. Hated that he wasn’t up in the sky with his team where he belonged. He knew he should be thankful, but today he only felt like sulking. He hadn’t had a meltdown the entire time since the accident.
Until today.
On top of everything, his caboose still hurt like mad. He couldn’t sleep in this place, couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t switch positions period. Exhaustion overtook him to the point he’d turned twitchy. Irritation gnawed every corner of his previously rational mind to scattered shreds. C.O. Petrowski needed to know about this place.
Why send potential SEALs to train at Coronado when they could come right here to Refuge Rehab? Only his military training had pushed him to these edge-of-human-endurance limits. Going on three weeks with ten total hours of sleep wore on him. His skin zinged with discontent and his eyes burned with fatigue. He’d caved one night and had taken a sleeping pill.
Which had caused the nightmares.
His only reprieve from this place was Javier’s daily visits. The kid stopped in on his break from his driver’s ed class across the street. He made Manny laugh with stories of his teacher who showed up with boxes of doughnuts, which he offered student drivers. Every time they took a doughnut, the teacher would knock points off. Apparently, Javier had taken driver’s ed twice and not passed. He was on his third try.
Manny realized early on Javier was the same age his son would have been, had he lived. That had both renewed his grief and awed him with wonder about what Seth would have been like. Would he be the kind of kid who shunned hugging, like Javier, who preferred some fancy teen handshake?
Somehow, having Javier around wrought healing. Manny didn’t understand it, didn’t try to. He just took it as a gift from God for this hard season in his life when he was grounded from the sky and all he held dear.
Manny maneuvered his table to try and hook the crutch and drag it back. Then how would he pick it up?
Thankfully, Joel returned that moment with coffee.
“Hey, grab the twins, will ya?” Manny eyed the crutches.
Joel set the two steaming cups down then picked up the metal devices. He propped them between the wall and the head of Manny’s bed. “Did you think about my offer?”
He had. It had been kind and generous. “Joel, you’re still technically a newlywed, man. I can’t stay with you and your wife.” Manny shook his head. “No.”
Joel pocketed his hands. “Don’t be obstinate. We have a huge house. Plenty of space for our privacy and yours.”
“Okay, to be fair, though I could do without the squeaky pillows, I’m extremely impressed with this rehab center and its staff. But I can’t intrude on your new family.”
“It was Amber’s idea. Bradley’d love it, and so would I.”
“I understand but, dude, I’d feel uncomfortable. I’m a total jerk when I hurt and no one should have to be around me. Sure, I’d like to stay in Refuge to recoup, but I don’t know if staying with you is such a good idea. I’d be all depressed and stuff when you’d get to skydive and I didn’t.”
Joel nodded in an understanding manner.
“I’m really trying to keep things in proper perspective, and just be thankful I’m alive. It’s a real struggle losing my mobility and the ability to do what I want when I want.” Manny sighed. “I want back in that sky—with you guys.”
Keys jangled in Joel’s pocket. “All the more reason to stay in Refuge for rehab. Your surgeons have said this is the place to be with your kind of injury. I checked it out. The facility has held the number-two spot in the nation for five years.”
Manny flexed and extended his feet to circulate blood in his calf muscles. “I know. Okay, listen. Maybe I could rent a room at that B and B place you used to stay when dating Amber.”
“They’re closed this season. Amber sort of crashed into it last year. The owner decided to add some rooms since they had to remodel the damaged area anyway. So the B and B’s out. Seriously, Manny, we have a guest room that has its own bathroom. It’s big enough we can stick a portable table in there and set up a little kitchenette.”
“That seems like so much trouble.” Manny chewed his lip thinking about it, though.
“No trouble for a brother. ’Sides, if the situation were reversed, you’d do the same for me. Right?”
Manny certainly couldn’t refute that. “Maybe I could look into an apartment.”
“Waste of money when you could have free room and board. Besides, your surgeons said they’d prefer you stay with someone in case you need help the first few months.”
“I know.” Manny hated the thought of needing assistance for so long, but there was no help for it. Not like he could rewind time and erase the crash. He had a new respect for disabled people.
Joel leaned his elbows on the table. “So what do you say? At least come by and look at it.”
Manny drew a slow breath. “No, dude, I don’t need to look at it. All right. If you’re sure Amber’s cool with it, I guess you have yourself a deal. I’d like you to let me help out with bills and stuff though.”
“Not necessary. I want you to focus on getting better so you can rejoin the team. We need you, Péna. I don’t want you to even think about paying us a dime. Amber would feel bad if you felt indebted to us over this.”
“Hard not to.” Manny’s cell phone rang. Caller ID read his mom, who’d called daily since the accident. He decided to let voice mail pick it up and call her later.
Joel braced his hands on the back of the wooden spindle chair, which creaked with his weight. Though Manny compared to Joel in muscle mass, Joel stood about six-foot-four while Manny barely hit five-eleven. He was the stocky one of the team.
“There’s only one foreseeable problem with you staying at my place.”
Manny scratched stubble on his chin. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“I know you and Celia don’t exactly get along. She and Amber are working on a school project a few days a week at our house. That gonna be a problem?”
Manny knew Celia and Javier had moved a few blocks down from Joel and Amber’s house. Javier had mentioned them selling their home after Celia’s husband died. Manny wondered if it had to do with financial struggle or because her old home held too many hard memories. Either way, he felt bad for Celia. He certainly didn’t want to add turmoil to her life. “Never mind me, how’s Celia gonna feel about me being there?”
Warning bells sounded in Manny’s head when Joel took a little too long to answer. “Honestly, I’m not sure. If it becomes a problem, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. As long as you can deal with it on your end, Amber and I will try to buffer it from Celia’s end.”
Manny shrugged, but inside, Joel’s words scraped his st
omach like sandpaper. Celia’d flipped out when she’d discovered Javier had been visiting Manny every day.
What was up with that?
She’d been spiteful in her words ever since, or avoiding him altogether. When Manny would ask Javier if his mother knew he was here, Javier would shrug and change the subject. Maybe Celia hadn’t believed Manny about his conversion. Sure, Manny was far from perfect, but he knew inside his core that he’d given his heart to God. He trusted God would help him overcome his struggles. Why couldn’t she trust God with it, too?
The only thing he could think that would make sense of her rude behavior was that maybe she feared Manny would be a bad influence on Javier.
“You and Amber don’t need to worry about anything except getting used to each other and raising a son who’s not yet in the best of health. If Celia and I have differences, we’ll work them out.” Even if that meant avoiding one another.
Carving out time with Javier would become a challenge, though. Hopefully, Celia wouldn’t think he was placing himself in her path deliberately.
Manny needed to secure his future with the team. That included time to heal and to get his reconstructed hip and quad muscles back in shape within a few months or he’d likely get an involuntary medical discharge from the military. They might as well shoot him and put him out of his misery if that happened. He couldn’t imagine life without being a PJ, rescuing people or being part of the team. He’d find a way to put up with Ms. Munez to keep his dream of staying a PJ alive.
For sure, these could be the most grueling months of his life. He had to push through it. He’d mind his own business and she’d do the same and they’d be fine.
Except he knew Javier would want to come hang out. Something in that kid tugged at Manny’s heartstrings. Yanked, really. A bond was quickly forming between them that he knew Javier felt, too, because of how he opened up. It was more than Javier being the age his son would be had he lived, more than the fact that Javier didn’t have a strong father figure in his life. Not only that, Javier would likely visit Bradley often as the two had a brotherly bond, though there was an age gap there.
Manny got the impression from Javier that his maternal grandfather was absent from their lives. Javier’s paternal grandfather had died. Manny thought how his own parents lamented over no longer having a grandson. The rest of the grandchildren were girls.
Sharp pains of missing Seth mowed Manny over. He willed them to fade.
His son had died and he’d been the reason for it.
So, if God put Javier in Manny’s path, it had to be for a reason. Manny refused to turn his back even if it meant dealing with his mother.
“I’d like to stay with you if your family’s okay with that,” he told Joel. He’d deal with Celia as problems arose.
Never mind that his pulse did ridiculous things the few times before their latest blowout that she’d shown up after getting off work at the school. Celia’d even brought him a stuffed animal with a camouflage vest.
Dumb bear. Every time he stared at it he thought of her. It even smelled like her perfume.
Manny shook off his delusions. He snatched up a bag of socks from the table, smashed the package in his fist and hurled it at the bear, knocking it off the window ledge. It tumbled behind the chair. Good. No more reminders of Miss Hot Tamale.
Except then he remembered she was the one who’d brought the socks after hearing him complain the hospital-issued booties made him feel like a maternity patient.
Joel, previously silent, stared at the spot the bear used to be, then the lump of socks that now resided on the window ledge. He cast Manny a peculiar glance, but didn’t ask.
Manny’s surgeon knocked briefly before breezing into the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, perusing his daily progress chart, then assessed his hip bandage. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here, Airman Péna. You’re eligible for discharge in a couple of days. We need to decide where you are going for the remainder of your physical therapy.”
“No offense, Doc, but I’m beyond ready to make like lettuce and head out.” Manny cast a look of gratitude toward Joel. “I’ll be staying with my buddy here if I decide to finish out my rehab in Refuge. I’ll get back to you about it.”
The surgeon smiled, nodded at Joel, then strode from the room.
Manny leaned back in the bed and clasped his hands across the back of his neck. “If my military insurance approves this facility, I’ll take that as a green light I’m meant to be here in Refuge.”
He determined to learn to hear from God. Joel bought him a new Bible last week that he could understand better than the one he had. Every day since, he’d been reading and tuning in—as Joel called it, “hooking up” with God in prayer.
Now to obey the little prompting that refused to die regarding Celia and Javier. He’d been having thoughts he couldn’t ignore. He had run it by Joel, who’d said in his opinion the persistence of the thoughts caused him to lean toward believing it was God’s voice. Manny would rather obey what he thought to be God and be wrong, than not obey and it end up being God. Hence, he had two goals while in Refuge.
One was to heal within six months so he could return to his duties as a U.S.A.F. PJ.
The other was to bow to the gentle nudge to do whatever it took to crack that seemingly impenetrable shell Celia had built around herself. Prove to her once and for all that, by God’s continued grace, he was not the same man he was at the Montgomery wedding.
Chapter Five
Manny tried to ignore the sensation of heat on his back. It had nothing to do with the Saturday sun beaming through the window, making the day unusually warm for the season. But everything to do with Celia’s stare boring into him.
Relying heavily on the crutches, he wordlessly maneuvered through Joel and Amber’s dining room. Amber stood but Celia remained seated at the table, attention replastered to the project she’d been doing with Amber when he’d entered with Joel.
He hated any attractive woman having to see him hobble along like a weak man. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Celia dropped her gaze back to the rows of satchels lining the table.
He felt rude not speaking to her so he paused and scrambled for something to say. Surely, Joel and Amber sensed the tension in the air between him and Celia. He had to make an effort. Didn’t want the precedence of cold shoulders to be set since he’d be living here for a while. He was thankful to them for opening their home and refused to bring strife into it.
“Working hard or hardly working?” Manny asked Celia.
When no one else answered him, she looked up. Eyes grew wide a moment before a quirky grin lifted one side of her mouth. “Little of both.”
He wondered if she realized how pretty she looked when she smiled full-on like that. He realized when her gaze found the table again that he was staring. “Cool. Are they for your students?” He eyed the items on the table.
She dropped a tiny bottle of neon-pink nail polish and slid a bright-colored hairbrush into a sack. “No. Amber and I are making toiletry kits for the runaway shelter.”
“Ah.” Manny stood a moment, watching Celia put a travel-size container of aftershave and a comb into a blue, zippered pouch. “Nice.”
“Yep. Nice and done.” Celia pulled strings on the last open satchel and stood. She tucked a bouncy curl behind her ear and looked at Amber. “The shelter owner will be here soon to pick these up. I’ve got to run home and put a load of clothes in the dryer.” She picked up a long-handled suitcase from the chair and slung it over her shoulder, which sagged from the weight of the thing. She met Manny’s gaze for a flash. “Good to see you up and about, Airman Péna.”
Manny nodded and turned to Amber who watched the exchange with guarded interest. Manny hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by agreeing to stay here. Celia reverting to formal use of his name and title seemed a step back. She’d taken to calling him Manny on prior occasions. Last thing he wanted was to strain Amber and Celia’s friendship, or to make Joel a
nd Amber have to be concerned over him and Celia getting along.
Celia slipped around the other side of the table and headed toward the front door.
“Talk to you later, Celia.” Amber pushed the front door closed upon Celia’s exit then approached Manny with a kind smile. “This way.”
Manny followed Amber down the hall. She flicked a switch in a large, spacious bedroom. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, causing red hues in the rich mahogany to gleam.
“Your sleeping quarters are here, Manny. Of course, we can rearrange this room any way you like, but this setup seemed more accessible.” She darted compassionate glances at Manny’s crutches. He realized then that Amber was nervous. Knowing her profound hospitality, she probably worried over his comfort.
“This is great, Amber. When Joel said you guys had an extra room for me, I had no idea he was referring to a fancy suite. I’m beyond thankful to you for this.”
A smile lit Amber’s face. “We know, Manny. And everything will work out.” She exchanged a look with Joel.
Manny got the feeling she meant more than his recovery. Especially when she eyed the huge window, open to the street where Celia could be seen shuffling home with her head down, lost in thought.
Manny turned from the window and nodded to make Amber feel better. But in truth, he wasn’t so sure. This could prove to be more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. The tension in the room when he’d walked in had been nearly suffocating.
Joel pushed the wheelchair behind them, which Manny only used when his hip could take no more after therapy.
He hated that Celia’s face had pinched as he’d first passed by. Like she couldn’t stand the sight of him. Maybe his injuries weakened him in her eyes, made him seem less of a man.
Who cared what she thought, anyway?
Unfortunately, he did.
He’d beat this. He would. He’d conquer those seventeen stairs, too. Eventually. For now, they conquered him. He’d soon learned that PT didn’t stand for Physical Therapy, but Pain and Torture.