Aaron

by Mayer, Dale

  He took the sheet without a word.

  “This is the team who’s been pulled together for you—specialists who know and understand what you are going through. You see the name at the top of the first page? Dr. Herzog will be acting as your MD. Below that is your physical therapist, Shane. He’s great,” she added warmly.

  “We have assigned Dr. Klein for counseling.” She studied his face for a reaction but still found nothing. “When they arrive, each will go over the treatment you will receive and who else you might need as part of your team. We are team-based here, so, when it comes to getting your prosthesis built and adapted, it’ll be all within the same team. We have an engineer on staff who will handle that work.”

  She glanced at the sheet in his hand again, noting the fine tremor in the paper. “However, everyone needs to work together to get you through the different stages, so you’ll have the health and strength and coordination to get used to the prosthesis.” Dani looked up and glanced his way to see if he understood.

  Only he wasn’t looking at her. He studied the sheet of paper she’d given him. “Understand?” she queried gently.

  He nodded. “Nothing to understand yet. Except why do I need a counselor?”

  She smiled at him. “That’s a mandatory part of the treatment. You’ll find it fairly noninvasive, and Dr. Klein’s a great guy. It’s important that we heal not just your physical body but also your emotional body.”

  “What about my spiritual body? I don’t suppose you have an altar here to pray to?” he snapped, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  “No, there’s no chapel. However, if you wish something brought into your room or want to speak to a clergy member, we can certainly see to that. We’re nondenominational, but we accept all.” She smiled at him again and said, “Even you.”

  He narrowed his gaze at her, as if not sure how to take her teasing.

  She laughed and stood, waving her arm around the room in a sweeping motion. She said, “This is your room for the duration of your stay. Most people are here for anywhere from two to ten months, longer if needed. Obviously we do our best to get you self-sufficient fast, so you can continue living the life you want at your own chosen location. However, it’s not always possible to get people moving about as much as they would like to be.

  “You have your own private bath,” she continued, indicating the closed door on the opposite wall. “Some of your work will be done in here. Otherwise, you will be expected to show up at therapy rooms on time and under your own power. If you’re not ambulatory enough to do that at any time, then we’ll arrange for somebody to come get you. You will need to discuss that with your doctor and your therapist.” She spun around to look at him. “You’re welcome to dress in your own clothes. However, the therapist will give you a set of comfortable clothes to wear for the physiotherapy sessions to avoid any strain or limits on your ability to do the work.

  “Laundry is done once a week. Three meals are provided, at approximately six to nine, eleven to one and dinner runs from five to seven, all in the common area, as well as snacks anytime throughout the day if you’re hungry. The schedule is on one of the sheets. We’ll start with the basics and move on from there. If the doctor has any dietary requirements for you, or if you have any special food allergies or requests, then tell the doctor,” she said. “We have dieticians on staff as well, if you have any concerns.”

  She continued to run through her spiel, covering all the high points, but she could see his eyes glazing over. She brought her speech to a quick close and walked toward the door. “And remember, this is not prison. However, you are required to stay on the premises all the time. We have day trips into town, and you are always welcome to visit the horses or see the other animals and to wander the gardens whenever you like. Do, please show up for your appointments as required. If you need to go into town, then make the arrangements with me or one of the other staff. We have buses going in on a regular basis.” She reached the door. “If you’re not up to the day trips and have special requests, staff does shop for residents as well.”

  “How do I get a hold of you?” His voice was deep, serious, and dark.

  “Good question. I’m glad you asked, because I forgot.” Upping the wattage of her smile, she fished the cell phone from her pocket and handed it to him. “Everybody at the center gets a basic preprogrammed cell phone to contact every one of your team. My number is right there. We haven’t had to take away any phones yet, so please don’t abuse it and become the first person where we have to do so.”

  His lips twitched.

  Good. Aaron needed to lighten up. Anything that helped him to feel better was good with her. “Other than that,” she said, “I will be around. As I run the center, I’m often at the front desk or in my office. Otherwise, you can find me out with the horses,” she added cheerfully. “Over 100 patients are here, and, together with all the support staff, you’ll have plenty of people to talk to. It’s important that you get out and spend time with others. Everyone is quite friendly, and most are in similar situations to yours.”

  “And if I don’t want to?” He turned and moved his head to look at her. Again, a flat stare.

  Her smile hardened just a fraction. “It is your choice of course, but if nothing else, there are beautiful gardens to see and animals who could use a bit of attention. The vet clinic is on the ground floor, and the animals there definitely need to know we aren’t here to hurt them.”

  His gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “You do animal surgeries here?”

  “Some. We have a full medical facility for animals and people.” She was proud of all they did here. “The local hospital is also an important part of our treatment programs, and the two surgeons who work with us work out of there.”

  At that, his eyebrows popped up, making her laugh.

  “We’re a very unusual center, and trying to categorize us will fail.”

  He gave a clipped nod. “Good. The traditional centers haven’t worked out so well for me.”

  “So give us a chance,” she suggested. “You might be pleasantly surprised.”

  Her phone rang as she stood there. She glanced down at the number and smiled. “That’s my call to visit with Helga.”

  Silence. Then, as she had hoped, he asked, “Helga?”

  She raised her smiling gaze to him. “Yes, she’s a Newfoundland dog that was hit by a truck. She’s getting fitted for a new leg. She’s had muscle transplants, and she’s doing well. The engineers built a limb that would work, and the vets built a stump that could work with it. She had a few other injuries, but she’s a real sweetheart,” Dani said warmly. “You’d like her.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Downstairs.”

  More silence. He contemplated the wheelchair in front of them and then turned to stare out the window. “Maybe another time.”

  “No problem.” She did her best not to show the tiny pang of disappointment she felt inside. It would take time for him to adapt, but she found the animals were the biggest icebreakers of all. People often related to their losses in a way that allowed them to disconnect from their own pain and troubles. They would root for an animal where they’d often given up on themselves.

  “Helga will be downstairs for several more days,” she said. “After that, we might bring her up to visit.”

  “Does she have a home?”

  Dani shook her head. “Nobody who would claim her. That often happens when an animal is severely injured. Nobody wants to be responsible for the vet’s bills.”

  He nodded. “That might get expensive for you.”

  She shrugged. “We try not to be too selective. An animal in need is an animal in need.” On those words she turned and walked out of the room.

  She didn’t remember him. Aaron didn’t know what to think about that. Except both disappointed and relieved. He wouldn’t have to answer difficult questions but then neither did he get a chance to reconnect.

  He looked down at the list of team members
and, despite his doubts, was impressed that the facility was this organized. He didn’t recognize anybody on this list, but at least he had the names to start with. He would research to see if these guys were any good or not. He hoped so, but he didn’t expect a miracle anymore. So far the only attempts to get him upright again had been via crutches. While that had worked for a while, his armpits had eventually swollen up badly because they were taking too much of his weight with his bad back. He needed a prosthesis that would work. And he needed his back fixed.

  Normally he’d be sent home, entailing multiple trips back and forth for prosthetic limb fittings, but somehow it wasn’t working. His stump refused to heal. His back injury, his mental state—he didn’t know what else—was hindering his expected progress. So he’d ended up here. Who the hell knew this place even existed?

  He certainly hadn’t, not before it was brought up as an option. Thank God for his VA benefits because his savings surely wouldn’t cover all this. Seemed only fair since he had lost a leg for his country.

  He didn’t know if the problem was his leg or his back. There’d been talk of more surgery because the stump was so raw. Also talk about surgery on his back. He didn’t know if the doctors here were specialists or even if they were likely to be any better than those he’d already seen. All that just because he’d wanted a change of scenery … That didn’t mean he’d needed to transfer here.

  Surely Walter Reed should’ve been enough. Or had someone else had a hand in this move?

  Of course he was no longer in the military. Hadn’t been for the last six months. Somehow that also meant he was no longer fit for any other job in the military either. SEALs didn’t retire and neither did they take on desk jobs in the navy. They weren’t geared for it. After being the best of the best, finding out you were now like all the rest was—or worse—disheartening.

  He’d heard of many moving on quite happily, and indeed, some of them excelled in their second careers. From another place and time his brother, Levi and Ice, his partner, had set up a new company; and they were hiring ex-military, even if disabled. Maybe down the road … when he could handle a job. Sure, he was on disability now, but that wasn’t the same thing as getting mobile again. Still, he had little to no relationship with his brother. So begging for work was hardly the way he wanted to open the door again.

  He wanted off disability as soon as humanly possible. He didn’t like charity—from anyone.

  So who had helped bring him here—and why?

  And what cruel joke did fate play that put Dani in his sights again—the one woman he’d always wanted and couldn’t have. Even if he wasn’t a SEAL anymore, the honor code among military brothers never ended. Best friends’ little sisters—or even brothers’ former girlfriends—were always off-limits.

  Always.

  Yet here she was, taunting him. And, at this stage of his life, he couldn’t do anything about it.

  Chapter 3

  Hathaway House was always busy. Today was more so than most. Dani barely had a chance to even consider Aaron’s progress weeks in. He was always in the back of her mind. Something was just so sad and defeated about him. She’d read his chart, and she understood the doctors’ confusion. Something had stopped him from healing. They figured it was mental and suggested he go to the psychologist. He’d refused. A part of her didn’t blame him, but also another part argued, if you continue to do the same thing over and over again, you get the same results. And so far that hadn’t worked out for Aaron.

  If he wanted to heal he’d have to open up to what was bothering him.

  Her father had gone through the same process, when his healing progress had come to a complete halt. Even wanting—or hoping—for improvement was different than this. Like a delicately balanced point in Aaron’s medical treatment, and in his life, he could either rush forward and beat it, or he would slide backward in a descent difficult to stop.

  She remembered sitting on her father’s bed, crying for him to fight, when he’d reached out a hand and asked, “Why?”

  It’d stunned her then, hurt her terribly, but she’d come to understand that moment when he gave up. Thankfully her father had turned his mental state around and was now living a completely different life. However, at the time, she’d felt so betrayed. Because, in her mind, she hadn’t been enough for him to care about or to fight for, even though in her heart she knew it wasn’t true.

  She understood that anybody, in the same condition her father had been in, couldn’t or didn’t want to care about anybody else. They were so focused on how lousy they felt physically, plus how sad and depressed they were emotionally about their supposed nonexistent future, that it was almost impossible for them to relate to how any other person felt. Then, once on that negative pathway, they believed they were a burden to everyone around them and everyone would be better off if they were dead.

  Added to that was a lot of them believed everybody else would be better off with them dead. She’d heard more than a few patients at the center bring that up. Depression was a fine-edged sword. It clicked like a light switch, flipping on and off so fast sometimes. That was also why they worked in teams here. If anybody had an inkling that something was going wrong with a patient, they could talk to the rest of the team.

  She answered the main landline phone once again while checking her watch. Melissa, her new front office girl, should be coming in any time.

  It couldn’t happen fast enough. Dani hadn’t been in her own office for most of the day because she’d been busy dealing with the front desk and a lot of the other admin responsibilities. Jessica had shown up and then had left early with a family emergency. Of course Dani had stepped in, which meant her work was pushed back again. She had a lot of charts and files to organize, and a never-ending stream of bills to pay. Just as Melissa walked in the door, Dani’s other phone rang. She glanced down to see who was calling and smiled. “Hey,” she said, delighted to hear the voice on the other end. Levi had been her best friend growing up, and the bond was still strong today.

  “How is he?”

  “Confused and disturbed. Not understanding how or why he’s here. Not depressed but not overjoyed.”

  “Words like apathetic, depressed and giving up were what the doctors talked about when I spoke with them,” Levi said. “He’s my brother, whether he wants to acknowledge the relationship or not.”

  “We’ll do what we can for him,” she promised. “At least he’s here. That’s the hardest part of the battle. And we won’t let him out of here until he’s strong enough to handle life on his own.”

  “Good, glad to hear that. Keep my name out of everything, will you?”

  “Of course. That shouldn’t be a problem as he doesn’t remember me. By the way, how is the new company going?”

  “So far, so good. I’ll do my best not to create any more patients for you.”

  She laughed at that, then hung up the phone. With a wave and a smile at Tammy, one of the front counter receptionists, she headed back to her office. Levi was a good guy, and he’d helped out with a lot of other cases here. She didn’t know what the problem was between him and Aaron, but Levi talked about Aaron, and from what she understood, Aaron did not talk about Levi.

  They’d both been injured in military operations. Both SEALs but in completely different locations.

  Family was important at times like this. That she well knew. But if Aaron wasn’t willing to open up and let Levi into his life, she could do little to help.

  She stopped at her office doorway and shuddered. Her desk was stacked high. George came down the hall toward her, pushing an empty wheelchair back to the front desk. He took one look at her face and said, “You work too hard. Time to shut down and go home for the night.”

  She waved at her desk overflowing with piles of documents and said, “Really?” She was torn. Part of her wanted to dive in and clear off that pile, and the other part of her wanted to walk away.

  George reached over, grabbing the doorknob and pulled
the door closed in front of her. “See? Just like that.” He gently put an arm around her shoulder and turned her toward the front desk. “You were here at 6:00 a.m., and now it’s five o’clock, and you’re still here. Go get a meal. Take a break. If you feel like you have to come back, then do so, but you need to rest sometime, Dani.”

  The trouble was, she knew he was right.

  “I hoped to go see Helga again,” she murmured as she walked to the front door, wrapping her arms around her chest. Once he’d made the suggestion, exhaustion hit her. “She needed support today.”

  George laughed. “That dog has barely had one second alone. She’s probably wishing all these humans would give her some peace and quiet. We’ve all been down there multiple times today—you included. Now leave. Go take care of yourself for once.”

  With a grateful smile, she walked out the front door and stood on the porch, taking several deep breaths. She closed her eyes and let the sunshine and the cool breeze wash over her. A sound from the right made her smile. “Hello, Midnight,” she called out.

  The answering neigh made her heart light, and her shoulders straightened. No matter how much work was needed to run this place, it was all worth it. Her own home was just on the other side of the tree line—still on the property but separate. She spent every day at the center as it was, so it was important for her to have a bit of space to call her own.

  She walked down the steps and over to the fence. Midnight immediately raced toward her. He shoved his big long nose into her hair and neck and blew gently. She stroked the soft felt muzzle and kissed his nose, murmuring sweet nothings to the old horse she’d had since she was just a little girl. She’d done her damnedest to make sure he had a home till the end of his days. He was one of the few fully able-bodied horses on the place. He was hers, and he always had been. Sticking close to the fence, she walked up the line, talking to Midnight as he walked beside her. “It’s been a long time since we went riding, hasn’t it, buddy?”