Chapter Six
G ood. Just like that.” I could tell the physical therapist wanted to be soothing, but her voice just grated on my nerves.
I sent my forwarding address to Grace, and I still hadn’t heard anything from her.
It had been too many weeks since my last letter from her and I was concerned.
The last one came before… well before this, which meant she hadn’t written in months.
After more than a dozen letters from her, silence for this long didn’t sit right with me.
A million likely scenarios played through my head.
She was in an accident. Her asshole husband did something to her.
She found out how fucked up I am after the IED and no longer wants to write a broken man.
She got a thrill out of writing an active duty, deployed marine, and now that I was a disabled veteran, the thrill was gone.
I’m not sure when I went from enjoying letters from a stranger to needing them like I needed air to breathe. Fuck, I was messed up.
I refocused on the task in front of me. Walking. What a fucking mess. I never thought something I had done without thinking for so long would be so hard, but here we are.
“I don’t do well with all this positive feedback, Jane.
I need some berating like a true marine,” I said to cover the pain of each step.
I gripped the balance bars tight and put weight on my newly fucked up leg.
The pain was bearable, but the weakness was something else.
I could barely put any weight on it, much less put all my weight on it.
“I’ll be sure to get some tips from a drill sergeant for next time. Does that work for you?” She threw back easily. She clearly worked with plenty of injured military vets and knew just how to handle us.
“Perfect. For now, I think I’ll just drag this leg behind me. Maybe a local play could cast me as a gimp,” I joked. Agony stabbed through me with each step, but I didn’t let that stop me. “I need a new profession now, after all.”
“Wouldn’t work. You’re definitely too handsome to be a gimp.”
“Are you flirting with me?” I teased, as I took another step. The struggle distorted my voice and ruined the tone.
“Oh, yes. Definitely.” I think she actually rolled her eyes at me when she said that.
I made it to the end of the short distance between the parallel bars without losing my balance and falling. That was an improvement over yesterday, at least.
“Today’s the day. You ready?” Grey asked from the driver’s seat of his car.
He insisted I stay with him when I got out of the hospital.
He had even outfitted his house for my wheelchair.
But now, I finally got clearance to leave that chair behind permanently and advance on to a cane.
I was excited to move around more freely.
We turned the corner, and I saw several cars in the drive of his house. “What’s all this?” I asked as we pulled in behind Tink’s motorcycle.
“Thought we’d have a whole ceremony to celebrate removing the ramp up to the door. I think Duke even got one of those giant red ribbons and matching scissors. You know, just to make it official.”
Grey had added the ramp to the back door because that was the easiest to retrofit and closest to the important parts of the house.
Namely, my bedroom and the bathroom. As such, I couldn’t see whatever ridiculous thing the guys had cooked up this time.
I swear they all needed better jobs. They had way too much time to fawn over me while I recovered. I hated it. Maybe I loved it.
When we made it to the back of the house, on my own two feet, thank fuck for that, we found a party in full swing.
I wasn’t even sure who half the people were, but judging by the fact that most were women, I had an idea about who invited them.
We didn’t call him the Duke of Debauchery for nothing. The asshole.
Grey was right. Right there at the back door, a rainbow of brightly colored balloons flanked a giant red ribbon, and on a nearby table sate the most absurd set of scissors I had ever seen. They were the length of my leg. Where would he even get something like that?
“What the hell is all this?” I asked the clown of a man that I knew was behind all the pomp and circumstance.
“I was bored and granddaddy’s party planner is hot,” Duke answered with a shrug. He then directed my gaze to an undoubtedly beautiful woman who fussed over a cake. Dear god, there was cake.
“Why the hell are we friends again?” I asked him as he handed me a cold beer.
“Because I’m awesome and everyone loves me.” He smirked at me before taking a swig of his beer. Idiot.
Everyone was here. Even Icebox made the trip. A small smile tugged at my lips. I dragged these guys through hell during our time in the Marines. We weren’t called the Untamed Rascals for nothing. Actually, part of that was from Duke’s endless bullshit.
The party seemed like it might have been good, but I was tired and ready for my bed.
I may have been walking, but every step exhausted me.
Just as I was about to give up on the whole thing, Duke stood on the table to get everyone’s attention.
I was a little surprised he didn’t already have a stage set up for himself.
“Thank you all for coming to the unveiling,” Duke said as he raised his arms in a show of drama.
“This had been a long time coming and I’m certain no one is more excited for this than — Grey!
” The words caught me off guard a bit and then made me laugh.
Of course, he would throw me a giant party, and then pretend it was for someone else.
I appreciated the slight deflection. I’m sure he knew I would.
“For almost two long months,” he started in on a speech, “he’s had to hide the beautiful craftsmanship that is his back stairs!” He was really going at it now. Emphasizing just the right words to get a rise from the small crowd. “Now, without further ado, Chelsea, if you will?”
I had no idea who Chelsea was, but I saw the party planner Duke had pointed out earlier walk over to the back of Grey’s house.
They had rigged the ramp up so that it would slide out at the push of a button.
Smoke puffed from the sides of the ramp and disco lights gyrated in a chaotic dance.
The smoke cleared to reveal — the stairs. Exactly how they had been before.
Duke jumped down from the table, and a small pang rattled around my heart at his dexterity.
I’m glad none of the guys were hurt over there, but I couldn’t help but miss that kind of physicality.
My moping didn’t last long as D uke lifted the comically large scissors in a way that showed off his muscles for the women at the party and brought them over to me.
“And now,” he intoned again, his announcer voice still in full force, “time for the ceremonial cutting of the ribbon. To be performed by our very own, Anders Gonzales.” Somehow, he worked the crowd into the most ridiculous round of applause over this.
I just shook my head and took the scissors.
They were heavier than they looked, and it took some maneuvering to carry them to the ribbon while trying to balance on my cane.
I got to the stairs, with my dignity intact, and took a deep breath before trying to mount them.
It was three steps up to the landing where the ribbon was located.
I noticed the guys all flanking my sides, close enough to catch me if I fell, but far enough to pretend like that’s not why they were there.
I didn’t hesitate again as I stepped up to the ribbon.
I didn’t shake. I didn’t falter. I didn’t stumble.
I made it up the stairs without a hitch.
No one clapped. Thank god for that. It was something simple.
I didn’t need congratulations for fucking walking.
Only it wasn’t simple and hadn’t been in a while.
The guys knew that, which is why they were behind me, supporting me in their way.
“Here goes nothing,” I said loud enough to add to Duke’s elaborate show.
I cut the ribbon with as much a flourish as I could manage and the crowd finally cheered.
Someone turned the music back up, and I could see everyone going back to the party, leaving me standing alone on the landing of the stairs.
I took advantage of their distraction and went inside.
I didn’t have it in me to climb the stairs again tonight.
I couldn’t help but gravitate to the entry table where Grey kept the mail. I rifled through the stack, trying to pretend like I wasn’t looking for a familiar envelope with distinctly feminine handwriting. I longed to see the curves and loops and flourishes that Grace was prone to.
I shouldn’t keep looking. It was clear that Grace wasn’t writing me anymore.
I couldn’t help it, though. I wanted to hear from her.
I wanted to know all the mundane details of her life.
I wanted to know if she finally entered a baking contest or if she told the preacher’s wife to suck it.
I wanted to know what crazy cookie recipe she had come up with in the middle of the night.
I wanted to know how her grandma’s funeral went.
I wanted to know anything and everything.
I thought of writing her again, but I didn’t want to seem as desperate as I was. I wanted to share with her how I could walk again and about the ridiculous party Duke threw for me and how Grey took me in without a second thought, so I wasn’t sad and mopey in a place by myself.
I left the pile of mail and started making my way to bed. If she wanted to hear from me, she would have responded to the letters I’ve sent since being home. A small pang of something unpleasant echoed through my chest at that thought.
“She hasn’t written?” Grey asked from behind me. I jumped a little, not expecting anyone the leave the party and join me in here. I was caught. There was no use in denying it.
“No,” I said as I reached the hall and turned to lean on the wall.
“You gonna write her again?”
“Do I have any secrets?” I said, a bit exasperated.
“Nope. Not a one. Not from me, at least,” he said as he pushed off the door where he had been leaning and went to the fridge. He pulled out some drinks and a platter of food I hadn’t even noticed was being served.
“Right.” I pretended disappointment. Sometimes, it was nice to have people that knew you as well as they knew themselves. Thankfully, he never expected me to get sappy about things with him.
“Gonna come back out?” He asked as he loaded up his arms with his haul and headed back to the door.
“No,” I said, exhaustion of a long day settling onto my shoulders. “I’m going to call it a night, I think.”
“Alright. I’ll keep Duke from looking for you. I’ll tell him you went to jack off or something.” He tossed at me before he opened the door and went back to the party.
I didn’t jack off. The sap that I was, I settled in to reread her most recent letter, looking for any hint about why I hadn’t heard from her.
God, I was pathetic.
An insane thought crossed my mind to go find her. Show up at her door. Beg for any scraps of attention I could get. I dismissed it as quickly as it came. I was sad and desperate, but not stupid. I wasn’t a stalker.
I finally gave up on the depressing direction of my thoughts and tucked the letter back in the box I’d kept it in. There was no use in pining like a teenager. She would write or she wouldn’t. I would deal either way.
The party lasted long into the night. I fell asleep quickly, exhaustion pulling me under without any delay. The sounds of revelry melded into dreams of a faceless woman crying out for my help. I knew it was Grace that called for me. If only I could find her in the dark.