Mended Hearts (New Beginnings Series)

by Mandie Tepe

  Mathias didn’t say anything for several moments, but Sonny was determined to wait him out, looking him dead in the eye. He finally broke his silence. “Okay, Luca. Just don’t push her. Be patient.”

  Sonny let out a breath before he even realized he’d been holding it. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say? Not ‘keep your hands off my sister?’”

  Mathias smirked, “Well, that goes without saying. Of course you should keep your hands off my sister.” His face sobered. “I trust you, Luca. I know you won’t do anything to hurt her—intentionally. Just . . . you really do need to be patient with her. It may take all the patience you have, but I think you could be the one to help her get back to living a normal, happy life. But really . . . don’t start anything if it’s just a distraction for you. If you’re not serious about her, don’t even go there. Promise me.”

  “Of course, Mathias. I’d never want to hurt her. You can rest ea . . .”

  “Wow. This looks really serious.” Gracie had walked up behind them and they both jumped guiltily. She looked at them suspiciously. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Of course not, Gracie. You have a paranoid mind,” Mathias reached over and tweaked a strand of her hair.

  “Yeah, right. You know, you always do that when you feel guilty.”

  “Do what?”

  “Treat me like I’m six years old.” She gestured to where he was toying with her hair.

  Mathias looked pointedly at Sonny. “See what I mean? Paranoid mind,” he said. But he had dropped her hair like it was on fire.

  Gracie looked pointedly at Sonny too. But he just raised his hands in surrender. “I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just sitting here enjoying my beer.” He made a show of taking a sip and raised his eyebrows at her. “Band done for the night?”

  She shook her head. She had to give it to him—he was a better actor than her brother. She played along, sure she didn’t really want to know what they were talking about. Her ears were burning, so she already had an inkling. “Yeah. They told me I could head on out since it’s Matty’s last night here. They’ll tear down without me.”

  The two men stood up and Mathias walked over to the stage to speak with the rest of the band and put a bug in Colby’s ear to keep an eye on Gracie too. She turned to roll her eyes at Sonny to find him watching her, a strange expression on his face. Before she could say anything, Mathias was back and the three of them headed out—Sonny for his place, and Gracie and Mathias for a late night/early morning breakfast at Denny’s, then back to her apartment. They had invited Sonny along, but he knew Mathias was leaving very early the next morning, so he decided to give the siblings some time alone.

  CHAPTER 8

  Her phone had been buzzing like crazy all afternoon, but she ignored it until her break at three thirty. When she got to the staff lounge, she scrolled through the missed calls. Meg. That was strange. When she’d seen Meg at the bar Friday night, they had exchanged phone numbers, but Gracie never really expected to hear from her. Here it was, only a few days later, and Meg was already trying to reach her. Relentlessly, it looked like. The messages were all the same . . . so sorry to bother you . . . know you’re working . . . I really need you to call me right away . . . very important. What could that be about? Gracie shrugged and hit the return call feature on her cell.

  “Hello? Gracie?” Meg answered breathlessly. Gracie could hear music and voices in the background, a door opening and closing, and then quiet. Meg must have been teaching a class, then stepped out into the hallway.

  “Yes. Hi, Meg. Am I interrupting a class? I could call back later.”

  “No, no. I was in class, but they’re fine without me for a minute. I’m so glad you called me back.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I’m just now on my break.”

  “I understand.” Meg paused. “I’m really sorry to bother you at work, but I was wondering if you’d talked to Sonny since his first PT session this morning.”

  “No. I thought I’d call and check on him after work.” Gracie was baffled. She would have thought Meg could reach him easier than Gracie could. They were good friends, after all. “Have you?”

  “He’s not answering his phone.” An alarm bell went off in Gracie’s head. She was registering real panic in Meg’s voice. “Gracie, I’m just a little concerned.” A little concerned? “Kelli went by the physical therapy center this morning while he was there, to check on him and give him some encouragement. She works at the medical center—I don’t know if you knew that or not. Anyway . . . it wasn’t going well. He wasn’t getting much range of motion, and his frustration was really bad, I guess. She called me to let me know he left in a pretty bad state. I haven’t been able to reach him, and I thought maybe he would have called you if he wanted to talk. I guess not, though, huh?”

  “No. I haven’t heard a word.”

  “That’s not good. If he’s shutting down . . . and shutting us out . . . that’s just not good.” Meg sounded on the verge of tears. “It’s not like him at all. He’s usually the positive one . . . when things get bad. You know?”

  “What should we do?” Gracie asked. When it came right down to it, she understood that Meg knew him better than she did.

  “Well . . . I was going to drive over to his place when I got done here, but then I thought it might be better if you did.”

  “Me?” Gracie gasped.

  “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  “But . . . surely he’d rather see you if he’s upset. I know how close you are.”

  Meg chuckled. “Believe me, Gracie. He’d rather see you than me. Look, I know I don’t know you well, but . . . he likes you a lot. You mean something to him. I don’t know what that is yet, and he probably doesn’t either, but I think you could help him through this. Will you try?”

  “Sure. Okay . . . I’ll go over as soon as I can.” It’s the least she could do, she thought, after he’d been there for her so much lately. Could it be true that she might be important to him? “What if he won’t let me in . . . or I don’t know what to do?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Don’t worry, honey. Just call me and we’ll get reinforcements and bust our way in.”

  “Alright.”

  “Will you call me anyway, Gracie? Let me know what’s going on?”

  “Of course. I’ll stay in touch.”

  “Thanks. I’m so glad you’re here for him.”

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Because it was Monday, Gracie didn’t have to worry about ditching band practice, and when she talked to her supervisor at the daycare center, they were happy to let her leave an hour and a half early. She rushed to a nearby grocery store and raised eyebrows as she practically sprinted through the store flinging ingredients into her cart.

  She got home, threw on a pair of navy blue yoga pants and a pale blue lightweight pullover hoodie. She threw her hair up in a messy ponytail, pushed her sleeves up, ran back to her teeny kitchen and started chopping lamb, green onions, garlic and tomatoes. After cooking everything in the correct order—as she remembered it—and it was all tossed into a pot, she covered it, slung her bag over her shoulder and lifted the pot with potholders.

  Gracie arrived at Sonny’s place about thirty minutes later—because of rush hour. She’d decided not to call first, since she knew he was avoiding the phone. She grabbed the pot with her potholders and headed toward the building. Mrs. Farrady found her struggling to open the front door and let her in.

  “Ooh, that smells good,” she exclaimed.

  Gracie tossed her a smile. “Thanks.” She headed up the stairs and knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked again and had about decided to call Meg for reinforcements when she heard Mrs. Farraday clomping up the stairs behind her.

  “I know he’s in, hon. He’s been there all day.” She barreled past Gracie and banged on the door. “Luca! You’ve got company!”

  Gracie guessed no one deni
ed Mrs. Farraday, as the door swung open. He looked terrible and just stood there looking at her—not happy at all to see her. Mrs. Farraday herded Gracie into the apartment and, just as she started to close the door behind her, met Gracie’s eyes. Gracie knew then that the landlady was just as concerned as everyone else was. God bless her.

  She looked at Sonny and he still said nothing. “Well! You’re alive after all. Is your phone not working?” She bustled around the corner into his kitchen and turned on the oven.

  He followed her in. “What’re you doing, Gracie?” Finally. His voice sounded a little raw, but at least he was using it.

  “I’m putting the stufat de miel in the oven.” She reached over to set the oven timer. “It’ll be ready in about an hour, I think.”

  He looked confused. “Stufat de miel?”

  “Yes . . . stew . . . lamb, onion, garlic . . .”

  “I know what stufat de miel is, Gracie,” he said wearily.

  “Of course you do. It’s a Romanian dish your grandmother taught my mom how to make. And Mom taught me.” She brushed her hands off after she slid the pot into the oven and turned to face him. She looked at him with concern. “What’s goin’ on, Luca? You almost had every SEAL wife in Coronado over here to break down your door.”

  “So they sent you?”

  “So it would seem. But I would’ve come over anyway, when you ignored my calls too.”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t have ignored your calls.” He moved close—crowding her—and reached up to touch her face, looking more dangerous than she had ever seen him.

  She looked up at him shrewdly. “I know what this is.”

  He dropped his hand to his side. “What are you talking about?”

  “You think if you flirt with me—come on to me—it’ll scare me off and I’ll leave.” She glared at him. “Not gonna work.”

  “Found your backbone, did ya?”

  “You can get as nasty as you want to, Luca, but I’m not leaving.” She sighed, “Did you scare off when I blubbered all over you last week? It’s my turn to be your friend.”

  His eyes softened as he ran his hands down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m being a real ass.” He turned and dropped into a chair, his crutches clattering to the floor. “That does smell really good. Smells like home.”

  She sat beside him. “Have you eaten today?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “I know,” he was starting to look ashamed of himself. “Been too busy wallowing.”

  “How much have you wallowed since you were injured, Luca?” She was sure she knew the answer.

  He smiled sadly. “What time is it?” He looked at his watch. “Left the hospital at ten this morning, so . . . almost eight hours of wallowing, I guess.”

  Gracie nodded. “Feel better?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well . . . I vote we wallow for the rest of the evening. Together. Then tomorrow, we’ll pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and keep going.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we.” She laid her hand over his on the table. “Did you really think it was going to be easy, Luca?”

  “I didn’t expect to have no range of motion. I thought I’d have some strength left.” He stared into her eyes, searching for something. “There’s nothing there, Gracie.”

  She refused to give him the pity he was expecting to see in her eyes. “Well, what did the therapist have to say?”

  “He said it was too soon to tell. Sometimes it never fully comes back, but sometimes you get more than you expect.”

  “He must have mentioned something about how your attitude makes a difference,” she prodded.

  “I seem to remember something about that,” he smirked. “Maybe I wasn’t ready to hear it, though.”

  “Maybe. Hopefully, he’ll repeat it when you go back on Wednesday and you will be ready to hear it,” she smiled.

  “Sounds like you know something about it, huh?” He smiled back at her.

  Gracie laughed. “Well . . . it was a different kind of therapy but . . . therapy is therapy, I guess.”

  His smile faded. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  “Stop that. We’ve already been through my sad story—forward and backward. We get to wallow in yours tonight,” she said with an evil grin.

  He couldn’t help but laugh.

  She pushed away from the table and walked over to pick up his cell phone from the coffee table, then handed it to him. “Call Meg,” she ordered.

  “What?”

  “She’s scared to death, Luca. Call her and let her know you’re having a rough day, but you’re going to be fine.”

  “Well . . . how ‘bout just the ‘I’ll-be-fine’ part? I don’t need to drag her into anything heavy.”

  “No, tell her. She already knows anyway, and it’ll mean more if you just cop to it.”

  So he did. He called and told Meg he was having a hard time, but that Gracie was going to help him wallow for a while. He’d be fine tomorrow. Yes, he’d be happy to meet her for breakfast in the morning so she could see for herself. Meg even got a laugh out of him, so everyone felt better.

  After he hung up, he could almost smell the hot electrical stench of burning phone wires as he imagined her calling everyone else to ease their minds too. It would be a relief when their husbands got back so they could direct all of their loving care and concern elsewhere and give him room to breathe. Or would it? He suspected he’d miss it more than he thought.

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Several hours later, both Sonny and Gracie were stretched out on his sectional sofa in front of the television. He watched her giggling over yet another Spinal Tap drummer spontaneously combusting on stage.

  She’d been so good to him tonight. Better than he deserved after he’d come on to her that way—just trying to scare her away. He cringed every time it popped—unbidden—into his mind. The craziest thing about it, though, was the regret he felt that he didn’t go through with that kiss.

  When she’d shown up, he’d been embarrassed. She’d bustled in with good old Romanian comfort food. When he’d first smelled it, he had to stop himself from looking around for his Gran. Gracie fed him—not that he had much of an appetite, but he ate what he could. She picked up several beer bottles he’d left sitting around the living room, and didn’t scold him about them—hadn’t said a word. She gave him plenty of sympathy, but no pity. And she listened when he wanted to talk, but didn’t push when he didn’t.

  She was the one who found This is Spinal Tap on one of the movie channels, then gone into his bedroom and dragged all four pillows and the comforter off the bed and into the living room, and tucked them both in to watch. He was enjoying watching her watch the movie more than he was enjoying watching it himself.

  She looked over at him and noticed him staring at her. She nudged his foot with hers. “Everything okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he tried to smile at her.

  She sat up. “I’m going to get more tea. Want some?” She stood up and moved closer to him.

  “You’re not going to like it, but I think I’d like another beer.”

  “Okay. We are still wallowing. But after tonight . . .”

  “I know—moderation. I promise.”

  Gracie headed toward the kitchen, snagging his empty iced tea glass from the table beside him as she went. She was back in no time. She handed him the bottle and set her glass on the table. Before she could lift the comforter to slide back into her spot, he grabbed her hand, pulling her down with him, her back to his front, both arms wrapped around her. She stiffened for a second, but relaxed when he just snuggled in to hold her, continuing to watch the TV.

  A Mighty Wind came on next, so they just left the remote alone, and kept watching. He shifted to reach for his beer occasionally, or she did to reach for her tea. He soaked in her laughter, but she was aware of the lack of his. She pretended not to notice. About halfway through the
movie, she offered to heat up more stew for him. That’s when he knew he hadn’t fooled her by pretending to eat earlier. When he turned her down, she shifted to lie on her back and looked up into his face.

  “Should I go now, Luca?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve helped much.”

  He stared down into her eyes. “You’re kidding. Right?”

  “No.” Gracie reached up and ran her thumb over the worry lines between his brows. “You look so sad,” she whispered.

  Sonny took her hand and laid it over his chest. “You’ve been a big help, Gracie. I was lost before you got here tonight.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m not sad, really. I’m worried. And I’m not used to that. In the SEAL teams they teach us to make plans—and when those don’t work, to adapt and improvise. Here I am with a problem, and no plan. I guess I’m feeling pretty powerless.” He snorted. “And now I sound like a whiner. Don’t I? I hate that I sound like a whiner.”

  “No, you don’t, Luca. But the thing is . . . everyone—except you—knows you can do this. You are the strongest person I know. We all get discouraged sometimes . . . some of us more than others,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “But, you . . . you’ve always been so strong and upbeat. You’re just not used to this feeling of helplessness—which we all feel sometimes. I have no doubt that you’ll come out the other side good as new. You aren’t afraid to work hard. And you’re tough. You made it through BUD/S . . . through Hell Week, didn’t you? Not many people can do that.”

  He looked amused. “What do you know about Hell Week, little girl?” he teased in his big bad Navy SEAL voice.

  She smiled in relief. That sounded more like the Luca she knew. “I might have googled it,” she admitted.

  “Well, I did make it through, but McKenna pushed me through half of it and I dragged him through the other half. This time it’s just me.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  Sonny smiled tenderly down at her. “Well, then. If you’re not worried, I’m not worried.”

  His smile faded away as he saw something in her eyes. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand and touched her lips gently to his. He was paralyzed with shock for a split second, and then began to kiss her back. The kiss deepened and he pulled her closer, chest to chest. After a while—he couldn’t have said how long—Gracie pulled back. She blushed a little and he knew she was embarrassed. He cast about for something to say to lighten the mood.