by Jessa Chase
Daniel didn’t want to tell her that he’d been keeping track of the fading sun the entire time. He liked that she’d lost track of time while she was with him, and didn’t want the fact that he couldn’t do the same to ruin the good mood they had brewing between the two of them.
“I guess it’s getting late,” he said casually. “Harder to tell, with spring coming and all.”
“Can I drive you home?”
“I’d much rather you drive me to your home.”
Claire blushed, and Daniel felt like his whole world tilted, just a little bit. Damn, the woman looked good enough to eat when she blushed.
“I’d....I’d...”
Daniel leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. It was slow, sweet, and as close to chaste as a man like Daniel could manage. After it was over, he pulled back and looked her in the eyes. Claire looked very much like a deer caught in the headlights, and Daniel couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ve wanted to do that again since I saw you at dinner. How can it be that I haven’t kissed you in years but I still remember what you taste like?”
Claire cast her eyes downward, her skin ruddy and pink. “Daniel, I can’t bring you home with me.”
“I know that,” he replied, brushing her fingertips with his until he’d slipped her small hand in his palm. “And I’m not going to push you. I genuinely want to help you with this project and not just so I can sneak in another kiss or two.”
“Thank you Daniel.” She said after a moment. “And I don’t mind. In fact...”
Claire surprised him by leaning in for another kiss of her own. This one wasn’t nearly as chaste as the one that Daniel initiated. It reminded him very much of the stolen moments behind the bleachers in high school, when every touch was brand new and they both wanted to experience as much of each other as they could get in between classes.
“Mmm,” Claire moaned against his lips. “You know I still have some of your drawings.”
“Drawings?”
“They were of me, mostly. That sounds kind of egotistical now that I say it out loud, but you really did draw me a lot.”
“You were definitely my favorite subject, as I recall.” He raised his eyebrow. “Wait, which ones did you keep?”
“Not those ones. Well, not all of those ones. I was too afraid of them being found.”
“But you have some of them.”
Claire nodded.
“I’ll draw you some new ones, now that we’re both adults and all.”
Claire smiled. "I'd like that." She pointed to the finished sketches they'd completed together of the float. "I'm getting together with my Marmots for our weekly meeting soon, do you think if you and I draw the outlines on the foam, they'd be able to cut them out?"
"Sounds like a good idea. Sounds like a lot of fun, actually."
"You're welcome to join us, sometime. If you want."
Daniel chuckled. "I think I'm probably a little too old to be a Marmot scout, but I appreciate the offer." He looked at his watch. "If we go now, we can get to the hardware shop before they close."
Claire looked at him funny. "Hardware shop?"
"Lots of foam comes in as packaging supplies. Totally usable, but it gets tossed out pretty regularly. Seems like it could be a good cheap source for foam, for a float on a budget."
"That's actually pretty genius. I like it."
Chapter 6
CLAIRE
“Here’s the colored foam, everybody. Daniel and I went through and drew the designs that all of you came up with on the foam already, so all we need to do today is cut the pieces out.”
Claire pulled the long sheets of brightly colored foam over to the middle of the studio for her Marmot Scout troop to see.
“Can I use the big scissors?” Mason said with his hand waving in the air. “Momma lets me use them at home.”
“Hmmm,” Claire pretended to consider it. “I only have one pair of big scissors, Mason, but I have lots of really cool scissors in here that I think you’ll enjoy. How about this green pair?”
Claire emptied her knapsack, which contained a dozen pairs of kid-safe scissors. The clerk at the craft store had assured her that they would be sturdy enough to cut through the foam but safe enough for the littlest hands.
Her troops grabbed up the scissors with enthusiasm and each kid settled down on the floor with a piece of foam and began to cut. Claire laughed when she saw what a mess she was going to be left with.
She could only imagine what her parents would say about this activity. Mr. and Mrs. Weaver had never been fond of messes, and having a child didn’t change that. They expected Claire to contain her childish impulses, to keep their house as clean as it had been before she’d been born. She grew up with an almost obsessive need to keep things orderly and clean; it was only when she moved away from her parents and struck out on her own that she developed her own sense of space.
Her loft above the dance studio was never clean to the standards of her parents, but Claire was okay with that. In fact, she was happier with her place in the world than she’d ever been.
She measured success differently than she once did. Before, she could only be happy if she was lead in an important performance. She could only be satisfied if she danced with zero room for error.
But now? She ran a business she adored, in a town that she’d always loved. She got to hang out with energetic kids and funny older ladies, and her dance studio was almost to the point of breaking even. Although she wasn’t quite up to making a profit, and wasn’t sure if she ever would, she was needing to borrow money from her parents less and less as she developed new classes that interested the townsfolk of Madelia and surrounding small towns.
“Miss Weaver?” Lilly tugged on her sleeve. “How’s this?” The little girl held up a cut out of a large sun. It wasn’t perfect, in fact there were a few divots chopped out of the round globe.
“It looks wonderful to me,” she said with a smile before gathering Lilly up in her arms. She was a slight girl that reminded Claire of her own self at that age. All elbows and knees just bursting with untapped potential. She was a pretty decent little ballerina too, probably one of the best in her youth class.
After an hour with the Marmot Scouts, Claire was left with a whole lot of shredded foam, but also some nice shapes to attach to the float. She gathered up the usable bits and stuffed them into a big black trash bag.
There was the large sun that Lilly cut out, symbolizing the service that our planet provides with sunshine, clean water and food. Claire thought it was a pretty creative concept for such young children to come up with, and largely on their own too.
Along with the sun, of course, were the cut out stethoscope and Band-Aids for medical service, the colorful cupcake with swirled frosting for the food service industry, and the various symbols that represented the military service in their mind.
Claire held one such symbol in her hand, lovingly caressing the foam cut out of a person in fatigues. Daniel had provided the rough sketch, and the children had happily added features to the soldiers after they'd cut them out. She couldn't help but smile when she thought of the group effort that had taken place for this parade float.
DANIEL
“Text me when you’re ready to head back,” Logan said as he grabbed Daniel’s bag from the backseat and handed it to him. “I’ll be around.”
“Thanks,” Daniel replied, swinging the backpack around and hooking his arms through. “Hope driving over here wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
He was getting pretty good with his knee-walker at this point, getting the straps in the right place along his thigh and knowing by feel how tight was too tight. Daniel pushed himself out of the front seat of Logan’s truck and felt satisfied when he landed foot-first, followed closely by the walker.
Logan laughed as he waved a piece of paper in the air. “Nah, I have a honey-do list from Katie with all kinds of things to check out while I’m here in town. I’m pretty sure she’s eith
er nesting or bought stock in Ikea.”
“Better you than me,” Daniel said before closing the passenger door behind him.
He headed toward the faded brick building with nervous anticipation in his heart. He’d read up on the Seattle vet center and felt confident in his choice, but he couldn’t help still feeling a little edgy. But, considering his only other option was bassinet shopping with Logan, he decided he was exactly where he needed to be.
“Welcome,” an older man said as Daniel approached. The guy looked anywhere between 40 and 60, grey hair peeking out randomly from beneath a washed-out VFW hat. “Glad to have you here.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m glad I’m here, I think,” Daniel replied. “Do you know where I can find a guy named Jeff? I’m supposed to be meeting him here.”
The old guy shifted in his seat and pointed inside, where a lady sat at a small foldable desk.
“Go in there, check in with Cindy. She’ll give Jeff a call and he’ll come get you.”
“Thanks, again.”
Daniel checked in with the front desk lady-Cindy-who was all smiles and helpfulness. He couldn’t help but smile back and felt some of that jumpiness recede. Everything inside the vet center looked worn down and used, but the people seemed nice enough and friendly enough. That went a long way in his experience.
“Daniel?” A burly guy taller than Daniel walked up and put out his hand. “I’m Jeff, glad you could make it.”
Daniel shook the guy’s hand, impressed by his strength. It wasn’t until they turned to walk back to his office that he noticed his other arm was a prosthesis.
They headed down the hallway, to a room with two overly large couches, a wide coffee table and a computer desk. Daniel took a seat on one of the couches; Jeff took a seat on the coffee table and rested his elbows on his knees.
“So there’s a level of informality to these things, pretty much self-directed as much as they can be. For now, how about we just chat and see where it goes.”
“Sounds good. You first?”
Jeff laughed. “Alright, alright. Well, I did psy-ops, three tours between Iraq and Afghanistan. Came back, went to school. Working here keeps me busy and makes me feel like I’m still doing some good. Your turn.”
Daniel hesitated, but felt his story pour out of him before he could stop it. “Combat engineer. Said yes to every tour they offered. Loved that shit. Roadside bomb. No idea what I’m doing now.”
“Got your separation papers yet? We have social workers here most afternoons, they can help you with all of that.”
“How’d that happen?” Daniel said, changing the subject and pointing at Jeff’s left arm.
“Not much differently than yours did, I imagine.” Jeff said simply. “Didn’t lose it all at once, it was a gradual thing after I was already stateside. The bones that didn’t shatter completely, they just refused to mend. After a month or two, the pain got to the point that losing the arm hurt less than hanging onto it.”
Daniel nodded. “Sounds familiar.”
“Yours is pretty recent, from what I gather?”
“Yeah. Still in shock I guess. I mean it hurt in the hospital. It hurt more every damn day. But I was unconscious when they decided to take it off. Sepsis.”
“That’ll do it. So who are you most pissed at?”
“Excuse me?”
Jeff adjusted in his spot, leaned forward to look directly at Daniel.
“You lose a part of you, you’re gonna be pissed. Me? I was pissed at myself for going so long hanging onto a limb that was never going to heal. You? I’m seeing some anger at the doctors, maybe at whatever family member gave them the go-ahead while you were knocked out.”
Daniel thought about it for a moment, and couldn’t find the rebuttal he’d expected to have. “I guess I am pissed. At myself, for getting hurt in the first place. At the doctors, for not being able to do more than chop me up. At my brother, for agreeing to this.” He pointed at his left leg.
“And then at myself again for good measure, for being pissed.”
“Pissed at yourself for being pissed,” Jeff chuckled. “You are definitely in the right place. And you’re in good company here.”
“Sounds like it.” He looked at his watch. “I have another appointment in forty minutes. How far is the prosthetic office from here?”
“Luckily for you, it’s not very far. Let’s finish up here and get you on the books with me again and I’ll show you where you’re going.”
The prosthetic room was at the end of a long hallway and through a series of doorways, and even with Jeff’s directions, it took Daniel a few tries to find it. He was relieved when he finally found the door marked “Prosthetics-Doug” and knocked.
A lanky young man opened the door with an expansive smile that went all the way up to his eyes.
“Hi! I’m betting you’re Daniel.”
“That I am.” Daniel gestured to the plaque on the door. “And you’re Doug?”
“I am! So we got that out of the way, come on in.”
Daniel shuffled in through the door and was amazed to see the array of equipment stuffed into every corner of the room. There were prosthetics in every stage of development, some just pieces while others looked fully formed and ready to be used.
He saw legs, arms, hands; the room had just about any body part you could expect could be replaced with a prosthetic.
“Have a seat here, we can chat first for a minute before the awkward bit.”
Daniel did as he was told, unstrapping himself from the knee walker and having a seat.
“So glad to see you up and using that thing! Aren’t they just such a pain in the ass in the beginning?”
Daniel laughed. “Yeah, it had a bit of a learning curve, but it’s gotten better.”
“Good, good. Yeah, pretty much every stage of this is going to have a learning curve to it, but the end result is definitely worth it.”
“You’ll find I’m pretty damn stubborn, so as long as I can focus on that end result, I’m up for just about anything.”
“That’s what I like to hear, soldier. Okay, so today we’re going to do some measurements for your temporary prosthetic. If you’ve ever been fitted for a tux, it’s kind of like that, except times ten. Are you up for it?”
“Absolutely.”
*
After his appointment with the Doug, Daniel decided it would benefit him if he got to know some of the other people who came to the vet center. He was sitting outside with some of the older vets when Logan pulled up in his truck. He shook hands with his newfound friends, gathered himself up, and ambled to the passenger side.
“Successful trip?” Logan asked as his little brother climbed up into the cab.
“Not nearly as successful as yours, I’d say,” he responded with a look backwards into the bed of the truck. It was filled with all manner of baby furniture, what looked to Daniel like an unfinished crib, a rocking chair and possibly a changing table.
“Hey, get your laughs in now, because guess who is going to be helping me put all this shit together this weekend.”
DANIEL
A few days after his trip to Seattle, Daniel was again making the walk from Logan’s house to downtown Madelia. He had one stop in mind, Claire’s dance studio.
When he entered, a group of children in matching Marmot Scout uniforms were gathered around Claire, laughing and smiling as they pieced together decorations. Daniel stood in the doorway a moment before entering, just enjoying the scene and especially the woman at the center of it.
She was made for stuff like this, he realized. She was made to be around happy, shiny, adorable little people. If he hadn’t been sure about his plans before seeing her just then, he was sure now.
Before he could take a step inside, Claire looked up and saw him. The way she lit up when she spotted him took his breath away for a minute.
“Hey, Daniel,” she said with a smile. “What’s going on?”
“I wanted to see how the decorati
ng was going, see if you could use an extra pair of hands.”
Claire waved toward the kids. “Hey guys, I want you to meet someone really cool. This is Daniel McAllister. He’s the one who is going to help us get this float built in time for the parade.”
The children rushed around him and for a moment he was afraid he’d be pushed off balance by their excitement, but they kept enough of a distance that he didn’t ever need to worry. He saw Claire at the center of it, subtly shifting a child to the side when they might be close to running into his knee walker.
Impressive, he thought with a smile.
She laughed out loud as one of the taller kids moved in to give her a big boisterous hug.
“Sorry, we tend to get a little noisy around here during our meetings.”
“Not a problem. Could I steal you a way for a minute or two though?” He turned his attention to the children. “I promise I’ll give Miss Weaver back.”
Daniel and Claire walked through the doorway into the waiting area. Still close enough that she could keep an eye on the kids, but far enough from the noise that they could hear each other speak.
Daniel shoved his hands in his coat pocket, suddenly at a loss for words now that he had her attention.
“What’s going on?” She asked as she watched his body language.
“I wanted to see if you were free for dinner sometime this week. Redeem myself and make up for the last dinner party.”
Claire smiled, and any nerves he was still feeling fell away.
“I’d love to, Daniel. Does Friday at the diner work?”
Daniel nodded. “You’re reading my mind. I know it’s not exactly a fancy date but...”
Claire grinned. “It’s a date with you. That’s fancy enough for me any day.”
Daniel dipped his chin and snuck a quick kiss. Just as the quick kiss was turning into something longer, a shriek from the studio area broke them apart. One of the children was brandishing a glue stick and looked like he meant business.
“Miss Weaver!” Mason shouted indignantly. “Tommy glued me!”