Chapter 26
"Ican't get over how much better you look now than you did two weeks ago." Matt planted a chair beside Damon's wheelchair and dropped into it.
His brothers had shown up at the rehab center bright and early and hauled him to Fischer house to spend Christmas with the family.
"I guess time heals all wounds, huh?" Steven already sat on Damon's other side.
Damon rolled his eyes at Steven then looked pointedly at his left leg.
Not hardly.
According to Dr. Campbell, Damon was making an excellent recovery.
Physically, Damon agreed. His scars—what he could see of them—were still ugly but not nearly as hideous as he feared they would be.
He was still weak as a baby and felt unsteady and uncoordinated on crutches.
Who knew missing part of a leg would affect his balance so badly.
Inside, Damon was still a mess. He carried a dump truck full of guilt.
Deep down, he knew the explosion wasn't his fault, but that didn't change the fact that he got to spend Christmas with his family when Ford and King never would again.
Nor would the passing of time make it so he could father children.
And then there was the PTSD. A dropped medical tray or the clang of weights made his heart race and his ears ring.
He embarrassed himself last week by screaming in terror and covering his head with his arms when the nurse accidentally dropped his dinner tray.
He tried to laugh it off when she gave him a sympathetic look, but his chest remained so tight for the next hour, he could hardly breathe.
He finally got to spend some time with MacDonald last week. That eased his mind a little. He never thought he'd be grateful he only lost part of his leg. Damon's injuries were a walk in the park compared to what his buddy sustained.
Shrapnel had damaged his intestines and kidneys so severely, he was likely going to need to be on dialysis and have a colostomy bag for the rest of his life.
"Hey." Matt elbowed him. "Get out of your head and come back to us."
He gave his brother a stiff smile. "Sorry."
Matt leaned toward Damon, but his eyes stayed on his kids who played with their new toys. "You have a lot to work through. You need to process all those emotions, but the longer you stay stuck inside your own head, the harder you're going to find it to leave."
Leaving is easier said than done.
Some days the darkness was so thick and heavy it nearly swallowed him. Clawing his way out to do PT or pretend for his mom that he was okay was almost impossible.
"Mom, are you going to give Damon the rest of his presents?" Steven leaned forward in his seat and motioned to the boxes behind their mother's chair.
"I already opened my presents," Damon said. Looking at the stack of mystery and thriller novels and civilian clothes that consisted mostly of T-shirts, sweatpants, socks and underwear.
"Those presents were from us." She held three big boxes out to him. "These are from Grace."
Grace.
His heart stumbled, skipped a beat, then flipped a somersault. No matter how many times he told himself to stop thinking about her, he simply couldn't do it. Her daily motivational and inspirational texts made it impossible.
He couldn't even be upset with her for sending them because they were exactly what he needed to keep going.
The pictures she sent him of Lily lifted his spirits more than anything else could.
He often caught himself staring at the one of her holding Lily longer than he should, considering he'd broken up with her.
It didn't help that the nurses had brought in some "special deliveries" over the last two weeks that he knew were from Grace, even though his mom denied knowing anything about them.
Only Grace would send him licorice and chocolates; the exact brands they shared in the elevator.
Then there was the peach lemonade made with fresh peaches.
It wasn't quite as good as his mom's, but it tasted great, nonetheless.
She was always on his mind, so much so he heard her voice in the recesses of his mind while he napped, and he could have sworn he’d heard her laughter echoing through the halls more than once.
He'd dumped Grace, so why was she being so thoughtful and giving him gifts?
When he didn't take the boxes from his mom, she set them on his lap. They were heavier than he expected.
"Go on." Matt nudged his shoulder. "Open them."
Aware that his nieces and nephews were now watching him, he forced a smile as he unwrapped the first box.
Lifting the lid off, he found three pairs of pants.
The first, a pair of jeans that looked exactly like his favorite pair of worn jeans—the kind it took months to wear in.
Below them was a pair of new jeans that still had the tag on them.
And on the bottom, a pair of dress slacks.
The sentiment was nice, but didn't Grace realize he wouldn't be able to pull these on and off over his prosthetic? When he finally got it, that was.
Mom must have seen the disappointment on his face, because she scooted her chair closer. "Do you recognize the top pair?"
"They look like my favorite jeans, but—"
"They are. All of your things—including your truck—arrived last week. So Grace took these jeans to Iris and had her help adapt them."
"Adapt?"
Mom took the jeans from him and laid them across her lap. Then seemingly out of nowhere, she pulled a zipper from the hem up the inside seam of the left pant leg, opening it wide. "It'll give you plenty of room to put on and take off your prosthetic while wearing jeans."
He checked the other pants. They had zippers in the left pant leg too.
"Grace did this for me?" His voice caught on the last word.
He met his mom's gaze, questioning. Why would Grace go to such lengths when he'd pushed her away?
"She's not going anywhere, Damon. She loves you, and she'll stick by your side no matter what, if you let her."
"Open the other gifts," Isabella said.
Damon did so. The second box contained a pair of adapted cowboy boots that had a zipper as well. He didn't even know there was such a thing. The thoughtfulness of the gift brought tears to his eyes.
He lowered his head, pretending to study the boots while he struggled to get control of his emotions. Never riding a horse again was one of the many things he'd mourned over the last few weeks.
"I didn't think I'd ever be able to ride again." His voice was quiet.
"Sounds like you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and do a little research." Matt gave him an encouraging nod. "Losing part of your leg is not the end of the world."
Damon was beginning to see that, but he'd lost a lot more than his leg.
Still unable to believe Grace went to so much effort and expense for him, he shot his mom another questioning look.
"You might want to wait until later to open the last gift." Mom gave him a little wink.
Damon had no idea what the last box held but if it choked him up as badly as the first two, he'd rather open it in private.
"We tried to convince Grace to come spend Christmas with us," Maria said, "but she said she didn't want to intrude."
Intrude?
Damon felt like the biggest jerk in the world. This was her first Christmas without her mother. He should be the one helping her make it through the holiday. Not the other way around.
Why was his family acting like he and Grace were still together?
He looked at his mom. "They still don't know?"
"Know what?" Steven and Matt asked in unison.
Damon ignored them, he just studied his mom's face.
"Grace didn't want me to tell them." She gave a small shrug and a soft smile. "She knew you'd need their support and didn't want to influence that."
Damon's heart pounded a little harder in his chest. He recalled sitting with Grace in what used to be his mom's diner. After calling his mom and aunts social creatures, he said Faith, Hope, and Charity emulated their names.
So does Grace.
She had every reason to hate him, but she didn't. No wonder Paige hadn't chewed him when they video chatted and Gabe hadn't shown up to beat the crap out of him. Grace was bearing the heartache he'd caused her all alone.
"Tell us what?" Steven repeated.
He didn't want to tell them how badly he'd treated Grace, but they were going to figure it out eventually. "I broke up with Grace."
A chorus of "What?", "When?", and "Are you crazy?" surrounded him.
After everyone quieted down, Matt asked Mom, "Is that why she's always here at Fischer House when we arrive then leaves soon after?"
"Wait." Damon's head popped up. "She's been coming with Mom each week even though I told her I didn't want her here?"
He knew she accompanied his mom again last week because she texted him that she was here and would love to see him if he changed his mind. He’d ignored her text.
Yes, he wanted to see her but knew that would only make it harder to let her go.
"Well, duh." Isabella rolled her eyes. "You didn't think we'd make your mom travel alone, did you? You know how she hates flying and trying to figure out how to get around in big cities."
Grace was here. Every time Mom was here.
“So she was here earlier this week?” His chest grew tight, knowing she’d sacrificed so much for him.
It was her laughter I heard a few days ago. Did she also sit by my bedside while I napped?
She’d danced through his dreams a few times while he was still in the hospital. Her angelic voice speaking words of encouragement and love.
The knowledge both thrilled and pained him. She really did love him. But that didn't change the fact that he couldn't give her what she wanted; what she deserved in a man. Especially when he was struggling so much with everything.
"What about her job?"
Mom shrugged. "She rearranged her schedule to only work three days a week, instead of four."
"Who takes care of Lily?" Then Damon held up a hand and answered his own question. "Paige and Gabe." When Mom nodded, he asked, "What does she do here all day?" He glanced around the room. There was a TV but little else.
"She studies."
Right. She was working on her doctorate. And because of him, she traveled to Maryland with his mom each week. The woman was amazing.
"Why would you break up with her?" Steven looked at Damon like he was crazy.
"Because she deserves better." He ground the words out.
"Says who?" Maria asked, confusion written on her face.
"She doesn't need to be saddled with...this.” He motioned to his whole body with his hand, even though it didn’t come close to labeling all the things that were wrong with him.
“With someone who’s disabled and will be dependent on her and hold her back for the rest of her life.
" Damon defended his choice even as he questioned whether he'd made a mistake.
"That wasn't your decision to make," Isabella said, a deep V creasing her brow.
Steven snorted. "Just because you have a disability that doesn’t mean you’re disabled. Besides, that will all change once you get your prosthetic."
"You'll be up and running in no time." Matt clapped a hand on his shoulder. "In fact, I'm counting on it, because I want to run a half marathon, and I need you to help me train."
Running.
Damon had missed it. The sun on his face, wind in his hair. After he got his prosthetic, would he be able to get back to where he was before the blast.
"Okay," Mom rose to her feet, taking the attention off Damon. "Time for brunch. Who's flipping the pancakes and who’s cooking the bacon?"
Everyone, except the kids, moved to the kitchen where mom put them all to work, even Damon. She set him up at the table with a bowl and two dozen eggs to crack. Then he was tasked with cutting fruit.
Later, after they were all stuffed but feeling too lazy to leave the table because that meant they had to clean up, Isabella asked, "When do you get to come home, Damon?"
All eyes looked at him.
"I uh...I'm going to stay here at the rehab center for a while."
"If you come home, Mom won't feel like she has to fly out here so often." Steven gave him a pointed look.
Would Grace continue to accompany his mom?
Damon looked at his mom. He'd been glad to have her here off and on over the past few weeks, but he worried all the traveling would wear her out.
"I think I should stay here until I'm more independent. I have to do PT everyday and...I still need help with...certain tasks.” It looked like Matt was going to argue with him, so Damon continued.
“But you really don't need to keep flying out here to be with me, Mom. "
The last thing he wanted was his mom having to help him shower or try to lift him off the floor if he fell.
"If you come home, you can do PT with Gabe," Steven said. "And Matt and I can help you with whatever you need."
"No offense, Bro, but I don't want you scrubbing my back."
This sparked a round of laughter followed by teasing about pretty, young nurses.
The truth though? He didn't want to have to face Gabe and admit that he'd broken Grace's heart. And if he was at home, it was only a matter of time until he crossed paths with Grace.
It wasn't until his brothers took him back to the rehab center that afternoon that he opened Grace's final gift. The softest crocheted blanket he'd ever seen burst from the box along with a note when he lifted the lid.
This is my first completed project. It was a major learning experience, so don't look too closely, or you'll see all my mistakes.
I know it's not the same as me hugging you, but every time you use this, remember I'm thinking of you and wish I was there with you (even if you don't want me there).
Those were the words he'd insisted Maria write on the card when he asked her to leave the hoodie on Grace's doorstep after her mother passed away.
Tears pricked at the back of Damon's eyes as he curled his fingers into the soft yarn. He wouldn't give into them though. It wouldn't do any good, because even though he still loved Grace, nothing had changed.
She deserved someone who wasn’t so damaged and could give her the things he couldn’t.