And with each second of silence from her daughter, Montana felt her retreating a little more, and her disappointment in herself grew stronger.
Why couldn’t she reach the people who meant so much to her? First Eddie, now Kaia. She was desperate for a way to help both of them.
If only she knew how.
* * *
WHEELCHAIR RAMPS. The only time he’d ever noticed them before was when he was writing a ticket because someone had blocked one with their vehicle. Now he needed them himself. Eddie sat at the base of the ramp leading to the front door of Pretty in Pink, the wedding shop on Main Street, and checked his watch. His grandmother was late, as usual. Normally her inability to be on time didn’t bother him. Unlike his mother and sisters, he thought it was funny and part of her charm. But, for once, could she be considerate of other people’s time?
Sitting in the wheelchair outside the store, he felt thousands of eyes on him. In reality, it might only be a couple, but that was enough to have him seriously on edge. Everyone in Wild River had heard about the shooting by now, and the talk of heroism had died down in recent weeks, replaced by sympathetic gossip about his new disability.
Poor Eddie. He’d worked so hard. Always had bad luck, that one...
Words of the residents echoed in his mind, and he longed to leave town. Go someplace where no one recognized him, no one cared about what he’d done or the tragic aftermath. But where the hell could he disappear to?
The payout from the department for the incident and his long-term disability pay was the only thing keeping him afloat after paying for his new life upgrades, like the van and the modifications to his apartment. Luckily he didn’t have major stairs to worry about, his mother had pointed out.
He checked his watch as the store attendant poked her head outside again. For the third time. “If she’s not here in five minutes, we’ll have to reschedule the fitting,” he said. And by reschedule, he meant cancel. It had taken every ounce of his love for the woman to be there that morning.
But it was the first time he’d left the house in days, and being out in the world felt odd. Nothing else had changed in the small town except how he was living in it. Everyone and everything else remained the same. How was that possible when his whole world had been altered so dramatically?
He was about to give up when his grandmother’s car sped into the parking stall next to the van. Country music blasting, she smiled and waved at him through the windshield.
He tapped his watch and wheeled up the ramp.
“Sorry, darlin’,” she said as she joined him. “Mel had an eye doctor’s appointment, you know, where they dilute the pupils to look for signs of cataracts?”
Eddie didn’t give a rat’s ass. It was really hard to care about anyone else’s nonexistent health issues at the moment.
“Anyway, he wasn’t allowed to drive after the procedure, so I offered to take him. ’Course they were running late,” she said, opening the shop door.
“No problem,” Eddie grumbled, wheeling past her. It irritated him that his almost-eighty-year-old grandmother was holding the door open for him. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.
Would he ever hold a door open for a woman again?
His grandmother sniffed the air and made a face. She bent closer and sniffed again. “Why do you stink?”
Seriously? “Geez, Gran, I don’t know. Showering is a bit of a challenge these days.”
“Your mother said the construction guys were in right away to make the upgrades to the apartment.”
“They were.”
“Didn’t they put railings in the bathroom?”
“They did,” he grumbled.
She eyed him as though there was little excuse for him to be smelly, then.
It wasn’t the act of bathing, it was the motivation to give a shit in the first place that had him abandoning personal hygiene. He knew he was wallowing in self-pity—he could smell it on his skin, his hair, his clothing—but he didn’t have any idea how to shake himself out of the deep slump he was in.
“Hi. You must be Grace and Eddie,” the clerk said, returning to them. She wore a measuring tape around her neck, and he cringed. Why take his pant measurements? Why hem the tuxedo at all? He wasn’t concerned about pant length when he wouldn’t be standing up, anyway. He had his crutches, but after a week of trying to use them all the time, sores were developing under his arms, so he’d given up and begun to rely on the wheelchair. The crutches were a pain in the ass, anyway, and didn’t give him the sense of independence and mobility he’d hoped they would.
“Yes. We are here for the tux fitting. I’m getting married in November,” his grandmother said.
“That’s wonderful. It’s such an inspiration to know that it’s never too late for love,” the thirtysomething clerk said.
“Exactly,” Grace said with an enthusiasm Eddie scoffed at.
“This is her third marriage,” he said, unable to let this clerk believe his grandmother was still a pure, innocent little virgin.
His grandmother swiped at the back of his head. “Third time’s the charm.”
“It better be,” he muttered.
“Why don’t we get started?” the clerk said, obviously feeling the tension in the air. “What pant and jacket sizes are you?” she asked him.
“Thirty-two waist and forty tall,” he mumbled.
“Great,” she said. “Why don’t you look at sashes and vests over there, and I’ll be right back.”
Wonderful.
“So, we decided on purple for the wedding party—not a pale, lilac purple but a nice, deep, fall mauve,” his grandmother said, moving toward the selection of accents for the tuxedo.
Eddie followed slowly behind. “Didn’t you have purple for your first wedding?”
His grandmother shot him a look which he should have heeded. Instead he continued, “I mean, isn’t that bad luck? And will you be able to tell the wedding photographs apart?”
Shit, too far. And too late to pull the words back.
The hurt expression on his grandmother’s face killed him. This was why he wanted to stay in his apartment. He wasn’t in any mood to be around people. He was pissed off at the world, and the fact that everyone else was going ahead, living their lives when his had been permanently derailed was aggravating as fuck. It was selfish and stupid, but he expected the world to stop spinning...at least for a second, while he got used to the shit hand he’d been dealt. He couldn’t focus on his future in the force right now, while he was still figuring out the best way to get his laundry done. He couldn’t return to work when he wasn’t ready to face his coworkers. And he didn’t want to think about his grandmother’s wedding and what that meant. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“You should be,” she said, selecting a deep mauve vest. Forcing her enthusiasm again, she displayed it to him. “What do you think? Would you rather a vest or no vest? I’m leaving that up to you before I tell the other groomsmen what to order.”
Other groomsmen. Right. Mel’s sons and his best friend were also in the wedding party. Men who would walk down the aisle before him and his grandmother. And then stand throughout the ceremony. He swallowed hard. He had to tell her the truth. Confess what had been bothering him the last couple of weeks whenever the topic of the wedding came up. “Listen, Gran, I think maybe you should ask someone else to walk you down the aisle.” There was still time to ask someone better able.
She stared at him. Not disappointed. Not hurt. Just uncomprehending. “Why?”
Was she serious? “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No. Do you not want me to get married again?” she asked, actually concerned. “Do you think it’s silly at my age to be doing this a third time?”
As much as he teased her about it, she knew he didn’t. He was happy for her and proud of her for not caring what anyone else thought. Fo
r being true to herself and living her life the way she wanted, so why was she making this about her? This was about him. “Of course not.”
“Then why, Eddie?”
Damn it! “Because I wanted to walk you down the aisle, not wheel alongside you. I wanted the focus to be on you and your special day, not on my tragedy. I wanted everyone staring at the beautiful bride, not her poor grandson who may never walk again.”
“You think you’re going to steal the day?” She scoffed on a laugh. “Obviously, you have not seen me in my dress,” she said.
Jesus! Why couldn’t she take this seriously? “Grandma!”
Stunned by his uncharacteristic outburst and raised voice, she dropped the vest.
“I can’t do this. And I don’t understand why you’re so calm about this. Acting like everything is natural, normal and fine when it isn’t. Do you see me?”
She nodded. “Of course I see you.”
“Then, why are you not devastated by this?” He gestured to the chair, and anger made his chest tighten. He was devastated. Devastated that the career path he’d wanted for so long was being derailed. Devastated that the simplest tasks, the things he’d taken for granted, like showering, were now a chore that required more thought and effort than he was capable of. Devastated that he couldn’t be the same person anymore. Devastated that something as simple as walking his grandmother down the aisle at her wedding now was a complicated mess of making sure the venue aisles were wide enough to accommodate him and the chair.
So why was his grandmother acting so calm about all of this? Why wasn’t she as upset as he was?
His grandmother approached and touched his shoulder. “I’m not devastated by this at all,” she said softly, deep emotion evident in her voice.
Emotion so strong, Eddie struggled to keep his own in check.
“Because I can’t be devastated when I’m so incredibly happy that you didn’t die. That I still have you. We could have lost you a month ago, but you are still here. And I’m so damn grateful for that that I can’t find it in myself to feel anything but,” she said, kissing the top of his head.
The lump in Eddie’s throat prevented him from responding. He’d been an asshole. His own despair was making it impossible for him to see the positive in his situation. He was still alive. He was still able to be there with his grandmother on her special day, and it might take a while, but he had to start seeing the gift he’d been given instead of focusing on what had been taken away.
It was the only way he’d survive having survived.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SNOWTREK TOURS WAS busier than usual when Montana entered the office the next day. Cassie was going over a winter-camping expedition with a group of ten people all crowded around her desk, while Mike, one of their full-time tour guides, answered phone calls, the landline switchboard continuously lighting up. He shot her a Nice of you to join us look as she hurried to her desk, where a couple sat waiting for her.
“Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, removing her jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair. She sat and logged into her computer quickly. “What can I help you with?”
The woman smiled cautiously and the man next to her squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, honey.”
The woman took a deep breath and nodded. “We were looking to book a bungee-jumping excursion. Sometime in the next few weeks.”
Okay, that explained the nerves. “First-timers?” she asked with a smile. This was one of the aspects of her job at SnowTrek Tours that didn’t stress her out. Helping others—especially first-timers—book exciting adventures was exhilarating to her. Her passion when booking others was genuine and, she hoped, contagious.
“Yes. Neither of us have gone before. We aren’t really the extreme-sports type,” the man said.
“Not yet,” Montana said with a wink, checking their online-booking system. They partnered with the best bungee-jumping company in Alaska for their tours, and they booked quickly. She frowned. “Sorry. I’m not seeing any availabilities until November—late November.”
The woman looked sad. Genuinely sad.
Wow, she’d really been looking forward to this. Montana understood, and it was probably one of those spur-of-the-moment, impulsive things where if they didn’t do it right away, they’d chicken out. “Winter may not sound like a great time to go, but it’s actually fantastic. The plunge is off a bridge that overlooks an amazing waterfall, and once the water starts to freeze, it’s even more breathtaking.”
“No. November doesn’t work for us,” the man said.
“Are you sure there’s nothing sooner?” the woman asked. “Maybe they could squeeze us in?”
“I’ll keep checking, but we book our tours on a tight schedule so that we can accommodate as many people as possible.” She hesitated. She didn’t like sending customers to North Mountain Sports Company, but they did work with several different companies that offered the activity. “Um, have you checked with North Mountain Sports Company? They might have availability,” she whispered.
The woman shook her head. “No. Definitely not. SnowTrek Tours played a huge part in us meeting last year, so we want to book with you and Cassie.”
Loyal customers had helped SnowTrek survive the big chain store’s opening, and that was a testament to Cassie and the amazing company reputation she’d built. “Oh, wow. That’s awesome. How did you meet?”
The man took a deep breath, and the woman stared at her hands.
“If it’s a personal story, no worries,” Montana said quickly. “You don’t have to share.”
“No. It’s just, um...” The man couldn’t seem to find the words.
Montana’s heart raced. Clearly this booking meant a lot more to these two than just wanting to be adventurous.
“We met on a hike with a spiritual leader,” the woman said. “SnowTrek Tours organized the event. It was a peaceful-passage ceremony at the top of Suncrest Mountain.”
A peaceful-passage ceremony? “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar—”
“It’s a ceremony that helps you make peace with a terminal illness.”
Montana’s chest tightened so hard, she could barely breathe. “Oh. I’m...” What? What could she say?
The man smiled slowly. “It was the best day of my life,” he said. “I met Amber, and we’ve been together every day since.”
Amber beamed at him. “Living every second we have left.” She turned to Montana. “We both have stage five colon cancer. Surgeries haven’t worked, and the cancer has spread to my lymphatic system, and Frank’s to his pancreas.” She pulled out a folded piece of paper—a list. “We are working through our bucket list in record time,” she said with a small laugh.
Montana scanned the items. Some they’d already crossed off; too many were yet to be fulfilled. “This is a great list,” she said over the lump in her throat.
“We’re trying to be brave and do the things we still can, before it’s too late.”
“We’re not dead yet,” Frank said.
Obviously finding acceptance in their situation had been part of their process, but it broke Montana’s heart to see two young people in love, facing the end of their time together.
“Anyway, neither of us is likely to make it until late November,” Amber said, suddenly finding strength in her voice. “So, if there are any cancellations...”
Montana nodded quickly. “You know what? I think there just was,” she said, making a note on her calendar to call the Harrisons and rebook them on a free excursion of their choice anytime. “How about Thursday at four o’clock?” she said to the couple.
“Perfect,” Amber said.
The man just smiled and squeezed his love’s hand.
Montana completed the booking, saw them out and then went in the back to cry.
Living every moment they had left....
Defini
tely put so much into perspective for her. Could she start to appreciate living every moment she’d been given and help Eddie do the same?
* * *
EDDIE’S PHONE LIT UP more now than ever. Before the shooting, he’d heard from his mom or sisters once a month. They were all busy with their own lives and while they were a close family, they hadn’t needed to check in with one another so much before.
They were driving him crazy now.
Especially Leslie. She’d recently been assigned a high-profile client that required twenty-four-hour protection, therefore she hadn’t been able to come to Wild River after the shooting, but she was certainly making up for it with the frequent phone calls.
He hit the Ignore button and sent her to voice mail, but a second later, she texted.
Don’t ignore me.
Then the phone rang again.
“Leslie, I’m just about to head out,” he answered.
“Bullshit. You’ve only left your apartment once in six days.”
He blinked, pulling his cell phone away to look at it. “Are you tracking my phone?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s a violation of privacy.”
“It’s called being a concerned sister. No one would convict me for it, especially since I’m obviously right to be concerned about you,” she said.
“I’m fine. Getting around these days is a little more time-consuming. And damn, you know, I let my gym membership expire, so there’s that. And I’m on leave from work, so there’s really not a whole hell of lot to do.” What did they expect from him? That he’d be running his usual errands, going out to hang out with his coworkers and friends, living his life as though everything was the same as it was before?
The hardest part about this whole thing was that everyone was acting completely normal. He’d just like someone to acknowledge the fact that this sucked. He didn’t regret his actions, he didn’t want a medal for bravery, he just wanted someone to say that it was okay to be mad, it was understandable to feel lost and afraid right now. And to give him the time and space he needed to figure it all out.
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