Chapter Forty-One
Sloane
I was up early and in the PT room working with Judy while Dr. Noland observed my progress when Missy walked in.
“Sloane, you have visitors.”
I tilted my head in confusion and asked, “Visitorsss?” drawing out the “S”. I was only expecting Ryan today.
Maybe it was because that box Colonel Swartz had delivered still sat unopened on my desk, mocking me, but my immediate thought was, He brought Ashley .
I was surprised at the pang of disappointment in my gut when I looked and saw Ryan standing in the doorway with a man who looked familiar, but I couldn’t place.
With a smile, I called out, “They’ll let anyone in this place!”
My friend returned my grin and headed straight toward where I was attempting to walk with my temporary prosthetic while holding two bars.
“You’re not running yet?” he quipped.
I bit back a grimace as I took more steps and nodded toward my PTA.
“Judy says I should be by next week.”
He nodded. “Maybe Pacific air will help.”
My head felt like it was on a swivel when I turned to look at him. I knew he’d been talking to Missy, but he and I hadn’t discussed anything further about me moving back.
He gestured to the man who was with him. The guy was wearing jeans but gave off the impression he’d be more comfortable in a custom-made suit. The watch on his wrist seemed to lend credence to my observation as it probably cost more than my Jeep.
“I’d like you to meet Grace’s brother-in-law, Travis Sterling. He’s on the board of the Wounded Warrior Project.”
~~~~
“So, there are only two other guys and a PTA living there?”
Travis nodded.
“And we all have our own rooms?”
“Well, Ashley, the PTA, has her own separate quarters that are connected to the main house.”
My heartrate sped up.
The PTA’s name is Ashley? Could it be her?
Travis added, “She lives there with her daughter.”
My face must have fallen because he quickly inserted, “It’s a pretty laid-back house. The other guys enjoy having a little one around.”
“I’m sure that will be fine,” I said with a smile.
But would it be? Would having a kid around be salt in my wounds? Another reminder of things I’d never have?
I continued, “It’s really generous of you to offer your beach house, Mr. Sterling.”
Travis looked me straight in the eye without even the slightest flinch—I liked that about him. “Please call me Travis. And, of course. It’s my honor.”
Ever since my friend Luke had moved into his wife’s beach house, I’d wanted to live on the ocean. But I hated feeling like a charity case.
“I get that you’re a big supporter of Wounded Warriors, but letting someone stay in your house?”
“It’s my beach house,” Travis corrected. “And with my family’s schedule, we hardly ever use it.”
I still looked at the man cynically, so he continued.
“Look, I didn’t serve in the military, but my friend did, and he lost his life. That’s weighed heavily on me for almost thirty years, so I do what I can to honor his memory. You don’t have to stay there—it won’t hurt my feelings if you choose not to. But it’s available now and it’s retrofitted so you can move around easily. There’s plenty of room for everyone to have their own space.” He paused and grinned. “And the view’s not too shabby, either.”
I bet it wasn’t.
“Home healthcare would be a good fit—” Missy started, but I interrupted.
“I don’t need someone with me around the clock.”
“I think you do, at least in the beginning,” Dr. Noland replied. “It’s the only way I’d be comfortable signing your discharge papers.”
Missy chimed in, “Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until you’re completely mobile and can find a home or apartment that’s been adapted for someone with a disability.”
Disability . The word felt like a punch to the gut. I was a fucking Marine; how could I possibly be disabled? A glance down at the scarred, twisted flesh on my left arm mocked me, along with the walker positioned a few feet away.
“I think it will be good for you to be closer to your friends and family,” Missy urged quietly.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” I exclaimed. I wanted to add, Why the fuck do you think I’ve been such a pain in the ass? but I didn’t think that would help my cause.
“You should take it, Sloane,” Ryan encouraged. “Josh or I can bring Tank over regularly. You know how he loves the beach.”
The mere idea of being with my dog again made me willing to agree to almost anything. Still, I had my worries.
“Yeah, but…” I tapped the metal that was now my leg. “I don’t know how I’d do.”
Judy interjected, “Just make sure to wear a prosthetic sock and clean your limb good when you’re done, and you’ll be fine. I think living in San Diego, you’ll want to consider making your permanent one waterproof.”
I laughed. “I was talking more about falling on my ass.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but you’re going to be walking with nothing more than a cane in no time. And based on the progress you’ve been making, I’ll be surprised if you even use a cane for more than a few weeks.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
I used to run on the beach every morning when I was home. The water and the exercise had been a form of meditation and helped me clear my head. I wasn’t convinced Judy was right and I’d regain my mobility as quickly as she thought. I wondered if being that close to the ocean and not being able to take advantage would feel worse than not being there at all. Kind of like window shopping when you didn’t have any money. What was the fun in that?
“We can leave whenever you’re ready,” Travis said, then turned to Dr. Noland and Missy with a sheepish grin. “If you think he’s ready, of course.”
“I’ll be honest. I have concerns—” Dr. Noland started, but I interrupted him.
“If Mr. Sterl—, er, Travis is kind enough to allow me to stay at his beach house, then you have my word I will be the definition of a model patient.”
“He has been working really hard,” Judy said.
Either Dr. Noland felt outnumbered, or I’d finally worn the man down, because he looked between Travis, me, Ryan, and Missy. “You have his discharge papers drawn up?”