“But what if I’m never back to the way I was before?”
“So you may have a limp. So what?”
“So, I’ll be like an old man. Don’t you get it?”
“No, I really don’t.”
“I’m telling you, you should get out now, while you can. No hard feelings.”
“No hard feelings?” Ben stood and loomed over Thom, and Thom could tell he was pissed. “No. Hard. Feelings? Are you fucking kidding me? All I have are feelings! And you think you’re going to push me away now?”
Thom looked away.
“This isn’t over, not by a long shot, Thom. You want me to go? Fine, I’ll go. For now. Because if I stay I might say something I’ll regret. But I’ll be back, because I lo–”
“Don’t. Don’t say it.” Thom knew what Ben was going to say, but he couldn’t hear it and keep his resolve.
“Fine. But you know it. Deep down you know it. So I’ll go, and you can lie here and feel sorry for yourself for a while, and I’ll be back tomorrow to take you home.”
* * *
Ben stormed down the hall towards the exit, so focused on his thoughts that he almost didn’t hear Dr. Sterling call his name.
“Mr. Loomis?”
Ben pulled up short. “Oh, sorry Doctor. I didn’t hear you.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Oh, um. I was just visiting Thom. He’s…”
“Let me guess, he’s in a foul mood and feeling sorry for himself?”
“How did you know?”
“It’s a pretty common reaction, especially for patients who usually lead very active lifestyles. They can’t stand feeling confined or helpless, and they usually take it out on those closest to them. He was pretty grumpy when I saw him this morning. Try not to take it personally.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s hard, though.”
Ben felt better after talking to the doctor. He was still angry at Thom for trying to push him away, but he didn’t feel the bone-deep hurt of rejection. He paced back and forth in the hallway for a minute, but finally decided he was still too angry for conversation, and he’d be better off leaving Thom to stew as promised. He’d come back tomorrow to take his man home.
As he drove through town he came to a snap decision and made the turn that would take him to Bent Brewing Supply.
“Hello? Al?” he called out as he entered the shop.
“Oh, hey Ben.” Al came in from the back. His long white-blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and his blue cardigan showed patches of dirt. “How’s it going?”
“Um, not so good at the moment, actually. I don’t know if you heard, but Thom’s in the hospital.”
“Oh my God! No I hadn’t heard, but I’ve been busy lately. We had a little flooding in the warehouse and I’ve been dealing with that. Today’s the first day we’ve been open in a week. How is he?”
“Pretty banged up – a few broken bones. But there was major damage at the vineyard.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Yeah, just gotta get him there, you know?”
“Right, right. So, what brings you by today?”
“I need a project to focus on so I don’t lose my freaking mind. Anyway, I’m thinking IPA. I came on the spur of the moment, so I don’t have a recipe in mind or a list or anything. I’m at your mercy.”
Al laughed and headed back to the warehouse, motioning Ben to follow him. “Come on, I’ve got some ideas.”
* * *
Ben was in a better mood by the time he got home. He’d spent a good hour at Bent Brewing, chatting with Al about all kinds of things and tossing around recipe ideas. It reminded him of when he used to talk beer and brewing with his friend Doug back in Texas.
He carried his purchases into the kitchen, where he found his dad and Steve sitting at the table drinking coffee.
“Hey, Ben,” his father said. “We weren’t expecting you so early. Everything okay at the hospital?”
“Thom is being a bad patient. He kicked me out, so I decided to come home and start a batch of beer. I’ll go back tomorrow and see if his attitude has improved.”
Steve snorted and took a sip of his coffee.
“Beer?” Jon asked. “Like that one I tasted a couple of weeks ago?”
“Well, that was a homebrew too, but I’m making a different kind this time.”
“Can I help? Or will I be in the way?”
“Sure! That’d be great. How about you, Steve? Wanna learn how to brew beer?”
“I’ll just hang out here and watch, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, you’re fine. Let me go grab some stuff from the basement and we’ll get started. Dad, will you put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and scrub out the sink? I’ll be right back.”
Ben jogged down the stairs and it hit him – he had just called Jon ‘Dad’ for the first time. It had just come out naturally – he hadn’t even thought about it. Sometime over the past few weeks, probably the last week, with all the crazy pressure they were under, he had come to think of Jon as his father. It felt good, he thought with a smile. So maybe he was in for a battle of wills with Thom, but tonight he was going to make beer with his dad.
* * *
It turned out Jon made a great brewer’s assistant and was happy to wash dishes or stir or whatever needed doing. Ben explained all the steps as they went through the process. Jon asked a lot of questions, but Ben wasn’t surprised, what with the older man being a teacher.
“I never really thought about beer so much,” Jon said as he watched the wort bubble in the pot. “I always just popped the top and drank it. I sure never thought about making it myself.”
“I’ll be honest – part of the reason I started making it was because I was too young to buy it. Then I got really interested in it. I’ve even considered taking a course and becoming a professional brewer.”
“So why don’t you?” Jon asked.
“Well, the timing’s bad now, but I’m still thinking about it. The course I’m considering is mostly online, but I would need to do a two week residency training. It also requires an apprenticeship, but there are plenty of breweries not too far from here where I might be able to do that. I’ll see.”
“You should do it,” Steve said. “I know you’re worried about Thom and this place, but as far as I can see, there’s no better time.”
“How do you figure that?”
“It’s down time here. Sure, there’s some stuff to be done, but I can supervise it, and nothing can be done in the north section for now anyway. You can take your classes or whatever you need to do.”
“But what about Thom?”
“Let us worry about that,” Jon told him. “There’ll be a home health aide coming in, and Mindy is going to stay, at least for a while. She’s got classes too, but if we all pitch in we can make it work. If there’s one thing I know about, it’s this, and if you put all your focus on him, it won’t be good for you or your relationship.”
Ben nodded. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 19
Thom grimaced as he shifted in the wheelchair. His right arm was in a sling and bound to his chest so he couldn’t move it. The incision site on his right hip itched, but he couldn’t reach it with his left hand. His head hurt, his shoulder hurt, everything fucking hurt but he refused to take the narcotics the nurses kept trying to give him. He had heard too many horror stories of people going into the hospital clean and sober and coming out drug addicts. He hadn’t had anything stronger than ibuprofen in twenty-four hours and he was ready to punch something.
He looked down at the folder in his lap. Inside were his treatment and therapy plans and follow-up schedule. Cable’s Bend didn’t have an in-patient rehab facility, so they were sending him home. A physical therapist was supposed to start coming to the house tomorrow. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to punch the therapist, although maybe therapists were used to it.
The folder also contained prescriptions for
antibiotics and pain relievers. The antibiotics he would take, but he would tear up the painkiller script if he had two good hands.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
He looked up to see Ben in the doorway. He set his jaw and didn’t reply. He had sent the younger man away the day before and wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing him now. No, strike that. He was relieved as hell, but not about to let Ben know.
“Ready to go home?”
Thom remained silent. Ben had said he’d be back to take him home, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to see him. Ben was nothing if not tenacious, and Thom had never known him not to keep his word. For some reason that just pissed Thom off even more.
“What a face! Someone’s grumpy today,” Ben said, coming around to push Thom’s chair into the hall. “Dr. Sterling’s signed off on everything, and Dad’s out front with his car. We figured it would be easier for you to deal with than the truck.”
If Ben was put off by Thom’s silence or glares, Thom couldn’t tell. How positive and upbeat could one guy be? And when had he started calling Jon ‘Dad’? He was curious about that, but couldn’t figure out how to ask without letting go of his anger, and for some reason he needed to hang on to that real tight.
* * *
Ben forced himself to keep smiling. He knew what Thom was doing. He’d discussed it with Dr. Sterling, as well as a staff therapist who had given Ben some literature to read and a list of websites where he could get more information about dealing with the pressures of being a caregiver. They just needed to work through Thom’s misdirected anger.
Ben put the brakes on the chair and started the painful process of transferring Thom into the car. Thom felt too light – even in such a short time he had already lost weight. They would need to make sure he was eating right when they got him home.
Once Thom was in the car and buckled up, Ben held out his hand for the folder. “Dr. Sterling said there were some prescriptions we needed to get filled on the way home.”
Thom handed him the folder. “Not the painkillers.”
“But—”
“I’m not going to wind up a drug addict on top of everything else.”
Ben sighed and opened the folder, taking out the prescription slips. “Fine,” he said. “But I don’t know what half of these are, so I’ll have to take them all in and ask the pharmacist.”
“Whatever.”
Ben slid into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. After giving his dad directions to the pharmacy he sat back and flipped through the folder. Dr. Sterling had told him that Thom didn’t want to take the heavy duty painkillers, and that the pain would make him irritable. He would probably lash out, especially at Ben, and was Ben ready to deal with that? Ben thought he was, knowing that it wasn’t really personal, but it still hurt.
He looked up when the car came to a stop and he realized they were at the pharmacy. “Be back in a minute. Thom? Anything you want from inside?”
“No.”
He looked over at his father. Jon gave him a small smile and a nod. The man had been there, and Ben took comfort in knowing he wasn’t alone. Returning his father’s nod, he got out of the car and headed inside.
The pharmacist reviewed the prescriptions and told him what each of them were for.
“He says he doesn’t want the painkillers filled.”
“Well, it’s up to him,” she said. “What is he taking instead?”
“They gave him ibuprofen at the hospital. The doctor suggested one with a sleep aid for nighttime – do you have that?”
“Yes, it’s on aisle two. It’ll take me a few minutes to fill these if you want to do any shopping. I’ll page you when they’re ready.”
Ben thanked her and stepped away from the window. There wasn’t anything he needed, and he’d pick up the ibuprofen on his way out, so he sat in the small waiting area and opened the email app on his cell phone. He had emailed the brewer training program last night to find out more about admission and tuition financing. He had reviewed their requirements online, and had been relieved to see that the prerequisites had been covered by his undergraduate classes.
There was an email from the program, and he debated about opening it now or waiting until he got home. He’d stayed up late the night before tossing around ideas and plans with Steve and Mindy and his Dad. The support system was in place, and the money could be worked out if everything else was organized. He just had to sell his crazy idea to Thom, but it didn’t look like Thom would be buying anything he was selling today.
“Mr. Loomis?”
Ben went back to the pharmacy window to collect Thom’s prescriptions.
“What should I do with this?” he asked, taking the unfilled prescription out of his pocket.
“Hang onto it for now, in case he changes his mind. Just keep it in a safe place.”
Ben thanked her, picked up the ibuprofen, and headed back out to the car.
“Did you fill the painkillers?” Thom asked when he got back in the car.
“No,” he said, holding the slip up for Thom to see.
“Shred it when we get home.”
“The pharmacist told me to hang onto it for now, in case you change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
“And I’m not going to go against the advice of a trained professional.”
Thom didn’t answer, turning his head to look out the window.
* * *
By the time Thom was home and settled into his temporary bed in the dining room he was too tired to do anything but sleep. Nothing was where it belonged and there were too many people in the house. Even though he still believed he should send Ben away, he hated the thought of sleeping without him. Even if the narrow hospital-style bed would have held both of them, it wasn’t an option since he was sharing the room with Granddad, who couldn’t handle climbing to the second floor with his arthritis.
No one was letting him sleep yet, though. Everyone was coming in and out of the room, fussing over him and insisting he eat something so he could take his meds and keep his weight up. He finally managed to force down enough food to satisfy Ben and Mindy so they’d give him his antibiotics and ibuprofen.
He knew everyone was in the kitchen, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. It sounded like Jon was trying to convince Ben to do something. Every once in a while he’d hear Mindy’s and Granddad’s voices, sounding like they were backing Jon up. He wondered what was going on, and why they seemed to be ganging up on Ben. He wanted to call out and ask what was going on, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was a yawn. He closed his eyes, and was almost instantly asleep.
* * *
“Is he asleep?” Ben asked when Mindy came back in the room.
“Yeah.”
“Good. I was afraid we were getting too loud.”
“We weren’t, so let’s get back on topic,” Steve said, leaning forward in his chair.
Ben folded his arms on the kitchen table and rested his forehead on them. He knew what everyone wanted him to do, but he wasn’t sure it was the right thing right now, and said so.
“We talked about this already. No better time, with your dad and Mindy and me here.”
“He’s right,” Mindy said. “And you’ll still be here most of the time.”
“But I’ll have to put so much time into studying, and you’ll need to study too. I worry that it’ll be too much for Steve and Dad.”
“I’m almost finished,” Mindy said. “I have a light course load and it’s all electives this semester.”
Ben sat up and looked around the table. “You’re all determined, aren’t you?” He waited for each of them to confirm their commitment to the plan. “Fine. I’ll register, but not until I’ve had a chance to talk to Thom about it.”
Jon beamed, “Excellent decision! I think this calls for a toast.”
Mindy hopped up and opened the refrigerator. “And I know just the thing for that!” She pulled out a couple of bott
les of Ben’s homebrew.
Ben got four glasses out of the cabinet and poured a measure for each of them, noticing as he did so that this was from the over-carbonated batch that had started exploding. He forced himself not to think about what drinking this had led to before, and how happy and uninhibited Thom had been that night. They would get back to that point again, he would make sure.
He raised his glass with the others as they toasted and drank to the future.
Chapter 20
The physical therapist was perky, and adorable, and relentlessly cheerful. Thom wanted to punch him within three minutes of meeting him.
“You want to hit me, yes?” the therapist, Alex, asked as he helped Thom out of bed. He had an accent, maybe eastern European, and Thom decided he hated that, too, no matter how charming it was.
Thom was taken aback. He had been thinking that, and he was in too much pain to deny it. “How did you know?” he asked instead.
Alex laughed. “All my clients, even the little old ladies, they want to hit me on the first day.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Oh, I am used to it. No one has hit me yet, though! Please do not be the first. Okay?” He smiled again, and his dimples made Thom think of Ben.
“I’ll try.”
“Good! Let us walk to the kitchen together down this nice long hallway.” The therapist stood on Thom’s uninjured side and helped support him until they reached the hallway. He was shorter than Thom, probably barely five-foot-six, and surprisingly strong.
They spent the next half hour walking up and down the hall and practicing exercises that would help Thom regain his range of motion.
“Back to bed for you, yes?” Alex finally asked.
“God, yes.”
Alex sat next to the bed, making notes in a folder and asking Thom questions about his pre-injury activities and his goals for recovery.
Saving Grapes (Cable's Bend Book 1) Page 14