Bring Me Home for Christmas
Page 13

Almost.
He was right—she had had many commitments. She was busy, had friends, activities, responsibilities, family. It was just Denny and his mom; he had a job at Home Depot, part-time so he had plenty of free time for his mother. Sue was either having cancer treatments or home on the sofa, weak and ill, waiting for her son to take her to the clinic or warm up some soup for her. And finally there had been hospice.
He must have been so lonely.
So afraid…
Becca was naturally a very nurturing person, one of the reasons she sought teaching as a career and wanted a family of her own, so of course she empathized with her boyfriend. She thought even he would admit she was sensitive, sweetly and lovingly checking on him, making herself available to him…
By long distance. When she wasn’t in class. When she wasn’t studying or at a sorority function. When she was home on some weekends and not busy with her family or friends or surfing with her old team.
But her mother checked on Denny and Sue regularly—at least once a week! And of course, when Sue died, Becca and her entire family were there at the funeral.
He must have felt so alone….
There were silent tears that wet her pillow; she was very careful not to let him hear her cry. He took all the blame for being wrong, for being so screwed up that he reenlisted, when he could have thrown some of the blame on the busy coed girlfriend who was just as absent.
Becca just began understanding something that even Denny hadn’t understood at the time. He had been isolated, depressed and reached out for the only thing that made him feel useful and valuable—the military. So without giving it much thought, he went.
Of course, everything might’ve been different. He could have told her he needed her and asked her to leave college and the sorority and come home to him…
Oh, brother, she thought. What a reach that was! First of all, Denny was too proud, too strong. Second, and shamefully, she wouldn’t have done it. She would have called him twice as much maybe, but only to tell him she loved him and to hang in there. Because she was in her senior year!
They were twenty-two. Only twenty-two.
So, twenty-five didn’t make a wise old sage, but she’d grown up a little. She’d suffered through the pain of loss, for one thing. There was the despair of constant worry and the agony of rejection. It had wreaked havoc on her appearance from sleeplessness and loss of appetite. She cried at the drop of a hat. Her rich social life lost its luster and she grew isolated, too.
Then she’d lived on her own and supported herself for three years—it had been tougher than she thought it would be for a brand-new teacher. She’d been through a couple of challenging situations, not the least of which was an ex-boyfriend she was still in love with so far out of her reach.
And along came Doug. When she met him and found herself laughing, enjoying a date, finally having a lover’s arms around her again, she thought maybe her life wasn’t over, after all. And although Doug was always under pressure, being a law student, his life was one-dimensional. He was uncomplicated. There hadn’t been any wars or close losses in his past, and maybe on some level she liked that.
But she couldn’t go any further with Doug until she smoothed out some of the kinks in what had been an emotional ride with Denny. Maybe now they could, since there was a bit of maturity, a little understanding and a whole lot more honesty. Knowing what she knew, maybe they could reach out to each other at least in friendship. Once, a long time ago, when they were just kids, they hadn’t just been lovers. They’d been such good friends.
She’d grieved that as much as anything.
Seven
The sound of Denny moving around the room woke her before the sunlight. She heard the shower, the water in the sink, the toilet. Then he came to the bed and gently touched her cheek. “I’m sorry to have to wake you,” he whispered. “After you get some breakfast, you can nap the day away in Preacher’s house if you want to. But I feel like I should take the boys out to the river. After all, I asked them to come.”
“Hmm, go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
“Becca, I don’t want to even think about you trying the stairs.”
“Don’t worry. If you write down the number, I’ll call the bar and see if Jack or Preacher can help me down.” She touched his cheek and gave him a sleepy smile. “That way, I can have my morning grooming without you standing right outside the bathroom door. Okay?”
“You promise? You’ll call the bar for help?”
“Sure,” she said, lying through her teeth. She had absolutely no intention of calling anyone. But she did have a plan. “Can I make a long-distance call from that phone?”
He hesitated for just a second. “No problem,” he said.
“Thanks. Go on. Have fun. Let me sleep some more.”
She rolled over and heard Denny leave the apartment. She sighed gratefully. She felt disgusting and in dire need of a fluff and buff. She’d had only sponge baths since falling into the mud hole. Her hair felt itchy and greasy and she’d had only one change of clothes.
When she was completely sure he wasn’t coming back, she pulled herself out of bed. She hopped over to the door and threw the dead bolt. Then went back to the bed where she sat on the edge for balance and stripped down to her panties. She was planning a good scrub and reassembly.
She started by figuring out how to kneel. With her hands on the rim of the tub, she lowered herself carefully, first onto the knee of the splinted foot. Then the other knee. Painless. Then she started the water and prepared to wash her hair. Ahhh…scrubbing her scalp felt like pure heaven.
Next came a real bath. Despite the discharge nurse’s recommendation that she make do with sponge baths out of the sink for a week, she was overdue for a good soak. Keeping her wrapped ankle dry while getting in wasn’t that easy, but she used her head—she lowered herself into the tub before there was too much water, which kept the splash manageable. Likewise, she had to let most of the water out before attempting to leave the tub.
She felt like a new woman!
She had to use her blow-dryer and apply her makeup while seated on the bed—although her balance was exceptional, she didn’t trust herself to stand on one leg for more than a minute at a time. Next, she had to find a sharp knife in one of Denny’s kitchen drawers to use to open a seam in her jeans—the only way she’d get into them.
Finally, she donned jeans, one boot, one of Denny’s socks pulled over her splint to keep her toes warm, a turtleneck and bright purple sweater, then sat on the bed beside the phone. She thought for just a moment before dialing Doug’s cell number. She punched in the private-caller code first. The last thing she needed was for Doug to call this number and have Denny answer!
You have reached the cell phone of Doug Carey. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.
She actually sighed in relief. She cleared her throat. “Hi, Doug. Just checking in. We had to get off the phone so quickly yesterday because you were getting on the plane that I didn’t have a chance to tell you there’s hardly any cell-phone reception around here. I can use the phone at the restaurant sometimes and you can leave a message on my cell and I’ll pick it up when I have a signal… But I’m fine and I’ll call when I can. Have fun with your family!”
She realized she hadn’t said the obligatory I love you before hanging up.
“Oops,” she said to no one.
With a sigh, she pulled on her jacket and looped the strap of her purse over her arm. She used the crutches to get out the door, then stood at the top of the stairs and looked down at the long, frightening descent.
Then she sat down on the top step. She slid her crutches down and carefully lowered her butt to the next step. And the next. And the next.
And she laughed.
She even practiced going up a few steps using the same method.
There was no reason to risk falling and breaking the other leg. If she could stay upright while riding a twenty-foot wave, traveling twenty miles an hour, she could get up and down these stairs without doing further damage.
Yup, she thought. I don’t need no steenking baby sitter!
Jack’s Bar was only a couple of short blocks from Denny’s little efficiency. Under any other circumstances, that might’ve felt like miles on a pair of crutches, but Becca was so pleased with herself she didn’t feel tired at all. When she faced the porch at Jack’s and the three steps up, she gave them careful consideration before taking them one slow step at a time.
Another victory! When she made it inside, she was wearing a smile brighter than the sun.
“Hey,” Jack said from behind the bar. “I was expecting a call from you! Denny said you’d need a little help getting down the stairs.”
She hefted herself onto a bar stool, lifting her leg onto the one right beside her. “Hah! Fooled him, didn’t I?”
“Becca,” he said, putting a coffee cup in front of her. “You shouldn’t take chances. What if you’d gotten hurt? I mean, more hurt.”
“Jack, I didn’t take any chances,” she said. “I was very careful and went down the stairs on my butt.” She grinned and tapped her cup. “Oh, please, coffee. I was so busy getting cleaned up—in private—that I never even looked through Denny’s cupboards for coffee!”
He chuckled at her and poured. “How’s it working out with your new roommate?”
She took a sip of the steaming coffee. “Poor Denny,” she said. “If it wasn’t bad enough I crashed his party, then I became his invalid to take care of because he feels at least partially responsible. What a load, huh?”
“Why does he feel responsible?” Jack asked.
“He was picking at me, so I told him to pull over and I…” She made a face. “I jumped out without looking.”
Jack frowned. “He shouldn’t be doing that—picking and arguing. If I do that with Mel, it never goes the way I think it will. Big mistake.”
“You do that?” she asked.
“Been known to, yeah.”
“I’m amazed,” she said. “You really don’t seem like that kind of guy.”
“Because I’m ninety-five percent sweetheart and five percent ass**le.” He smiled, pushing the cream and sugar toward her.
“This coffee is so wonderful, I don’t even need the cream and sugar, but that’s how I usually fix it. Spoon, please?”
He put a spoon and napkin on the bar for her. “That’s how I trapped Mel—the coffee. I’m only particular about a few things, and coffee is one of them. She was on her way out of town. She couldn’t wait to make this little one-horse town a memory, but she wasn’t leaving without a cup of coffee.”
She grinned at him. “And she stayed for the coffee?” she asked, dressing her cup.
“No, kiddo. The coffee distracted her just long enough for me to make my move. In the end, she stayed for me.” He smiled right back at her.
Becca looked around and realized she was the only one in the bar. “Where is everyone?”
“It’s after nine-thirty, Becca. My breakfast crowd is early. Plus, it’s the day before Thanksgiving—people are busy. I bet you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving! You have no idea what an ordeal a hair wash, bath, dressing and walking a couple of blocks can be.”
“Preacher was making omelets earlier. He always has bacon and sausage. What would you like?”
“I usually just have cereal, but I think I need some protein. Would you ask him to just break up a little sausage in the eggs and make a small omelet? Maybe a tiny bit of cheese?”
“I’ll ask, but I warn you, it’s very hard for Preacher to think small. Stay tuned,” he said, heading for the kitchen.
It was just a few minutes when Paige carried a plate with an omelet on it out to the bar. Jack was right, Preacher wasn’t good at making anything small. “Wow,” she said when Paige put it in front of her.