Chapter Four #2
“Nothing that isn’t in my paperwork, unless you can get my parents to quit hovering.”
“Give them time. You’ve just been released from the hospital. They’ll loosen up after you’ve been home a while.”
“Dad might, but not Mom. When I say she shouldn’t fret, she says it’s her job to worry, and no matter how old I am, I’ll always be her child. Hell, I can see it now. I’ll be sixty-three, and she’ll be calling to see I’m eating right and getting enough sleep.”
Pain over losing her mother swept through Carly with incredible force. “Some people would give anything to have that problem.”
Owen shifted, tugged at his collar, and swiped his palms on his jeans. “Damn, Carly. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m lucky to have Mom around to worry about me.”
“I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.” She clasped her hands together on her desk to keep from fidgeting. “This isn’t how a client’s first appointment usually goes.”
Even after college when she’d first started working as a speech and language pathologist, she’d never had one stray this far off course.
But here with Owen, she could check off another subject on her sure-it’ll-be-as-fun-as-an-IRS-audit-reminiscing-with-you hit list. If this trip down memory lane lasted much longer, she’d need a shot of whiskey with a tequila chaser.
Determined to regain control by reassuring Owen in hopes they could move on, Carly said, “From here, I promise not to share information, even in general terms, with your parents. In fact, if they ask me any questions, I’ll refer them to you.”
“Thanks.”
The tightness in her body relaxed, allowing her to concentrate on the forms in the manila folder on her desk. Lifting the top one she said, “This is a release—”
“Before your forms, I want to ask how long it’ll take for you to fix me so I can return to active duty.”
So much for being in control. Her hands shaking with irritation, she snatched up the papers, tapped them on her desk to align them, and replaced them in the folder.
Why was she having such trouble being patient? Most of the clients displayed Owen’s issues to one degree or another, but she’d never felt this exasperated.
“While we view our program as a partnership between the staff, volunteers and client, the staff member has to be in charge. We’ve gotten off track, which means if we’re going to have a short equestrian therapy session, we need to get through these forms.” She smiled, pleased how she’d handled the situation.
Owen placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “I understand, but first, I want to know how long my rehab will take.”
“What part of I’m in charge, are you having trouble understanding?”
She guessed pretty much all of it. Like every male in her life. Lord protect her from all the testosterone swirling around her.
“And what part of this is my life we’re talking about is hard for you to understand?”
Yup, nailed that answer.
Needing to occupy her hands to keep from shaking some sense into Owen, she pulled a neon green stress ball emblazoned with a therapy equipment company’s logo.
Then deciding to use humor rather than trying to out bullhead him, she held out the ball.
“Let me consult my crystal rubber ball.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing, as she moved the neon sphere closer and peered at it intently.
“I see many things are possible with hard work, but the specifics are unclear and keep changing. Ask again later.”
“Sounds more like channeling the Magic 8 Ball. When did you become a medium?” He paired his serious tone with an intimidating glare.
Undaunted by his darkening glower, she continued. “Should I have gone with reading tea leaves instead? Both methods and my predication have the same reliability. My point is, there’s no way for anyone to know what benefits you’ll receive from therapy, or how long it’ll take to see results.”
“I will return to—” His voice trailed off. He tugged at his T-shirt collar, and shifted in his chair, as he struggled to find the word he wanted. “What the hell was I going to say?”
“We’ll tackle that in speech sessions, but for now, my suggestions are to take your time, not let your frustration get to you, and ask for help.”
“For tips, those aren’t very helpful. You got anything more concrete?”
“We’re getting off track again.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, and she sensed his pent-up frustration. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting them win. I will get my life back. All of it.”
“Good. Harness that emotional energy to fuel your recovery.”
He paused, inhaled deeply, and exhaled in a long whoosh of air. “Let’s get started.”
When he stood, she said, “Hold on, cowboy. Have a seat. We have paperwork and procedures to deal with first.”
He plopped his lanky form back down on the chair. “Then speed it up. We’re burning daylight.”
Really? He had the nerve to tell her to hurry after he kept steering them off track?
This time when she withdrew her forms, they discussed policies and procedures.
Then she slid the papers with a pen to Owen and asked if he had questions.
When he said no, she wondered if he’d heard the part requiring clients wearing a helmet for legal and safety reasons.
How could he let the detail go by without comment?
“There’s also a release for us to use photos taken on the premises or at agency events. ”
Without reading a word, he scrawled his name on the first paper.
“You’re not going to read that?” Carly asked.
“You explained them, right?” When she nodded, he continued, his eyes filled with trust. “What’s the point when chances are I won’t remember in five minutes?”
She couldn’t argue, but instead said, “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, he signed the remaining documents, returned them to her, and stalked across her office. Well, slowly shuffled with major attitude. At the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”
If the room were on fire, she wouldn’t speed up.
She slipped the signed papers into his file and replaced the folder in the filing cabinet behind her.
She closed the documents open on her computer and logged off.
Then to emphasize she wouldn’t perform on command, she replaced her pen in her center drawer, and straightened her in-box.
What had she been thinking when she promised Addie she’d do this?
Working with her first love, a man who still made her body quiver with a glance, was crazy enough, but now she knew Owen expected her to fix him as if she were Glinda the Good Witch and would float in on a sparkly bubble, wave her magic wand, and make his problems disappear.
Figuring she’d made her point, she walked toward Owen. She’d only gone halfway across the office when her cell phone rang. She winced when she glanced at the screen. “I’m sorry I have to take this. It’s Ryder’s school.”
“No problem. I’ll wait outside.”
When Carly answered her phone, the high school’s automated system kicked in, informing her of Ryder’s absence.
She punched the end button before the message finished since she could recite it from memory.
Where could he be this time? The last time he cut class, he’d come home smelling like a brewery.
Knowing Ryder wouldn’t answer her call or listen to her message, she texted him. “School called again. U know, that big red brick building where u should be. Where r u? And don’t ignore me. If u do I’ll call the police to help find u.”
She received his reply before she reached the door. “None of ur damn business where I am. Not a missing person so good luck with the cops.”
*
As Owen waited outside for Carly, he realized he’d pushed her too far, forcing the little kitten to reveal her claws.
He’d known better and had sensed her rising irritation over his questions, despite her attempts to hide it, but he couldn’t help himself.
With his life out of control, his tendency to clamp down, and go all pack leader had taken over.
How could she not get that? This was his life.
How could she expect him to wait to see how this went without a timeline?
Were they talking weeks or months for him to return to the Army?
Maybe if he asked the question that way, she’d have understood better.
Not only that but seeing her looking so fine, completely together, and self-confident had thrown him as fast and hard as a wild mustang.
He’d come to Service because of her, and yet her seeing him this way, unsteady and confused, less than he’d been, affected him more than he’d expected.