Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Kace
The following morning, I'm climbing the walls by the time the hospital red tape is completed and I'm in a wheelchair, leg extended in front of me like a pole.
Another two weeks and I should be able to move down to a lower leg cast. By then, hopefully, the burns will have healed over enough to use crutches too.
I tried them a time or two in PT just to see how I would tolerate them with the burns, and neither time went well.
But I'm getting out of the hospital, and that's the important thing.
I'm going home with a bag full of meds to keep infection at bay, both from the surgeries and the burns, along with another bag of nothing but gauze and tape.
The worst of the blisters have broken and crusted, so now it's a matter of time as skin and nerves figure things out.
I could have no feeling, some feeling, or excruciating pain for life, depending on how healing goes.
It's all up to my body and out of my control.
After agreeing to be my caretaker, Lindsey took the girls home last night, and I was left staring at the ceiling, contemplating whether her staying with us is a good idea.
But if I want to leave the hospital? I don't have a lot of choice.
My mom lives in Florida and works full-time.
She lives paycheck to paycheck, so asking her to stay long-term isn't going to happen.
She visited me immediately after the accident, and I know the cost of the trip and missed work took a financial toll on her.
One I can't afford to help her with, given my own bills.
She mentioned taking Mads to Florida with her, but I nixed that idea.
Working as my mom did, Mads would be left to her own devices far too often.
I have eyes on her here. Whether Mads knows people or not, people know of her and that she's my niece.
If she gets into trouble, I will find out.
It's one of the benefits of living on an island with locals who keep track of each other.
Logically, Lindsey is a godsend. She needs a place to stay while looking for one of her own. Wants to get out of Bronwyn's condo to give Bronwyn and Gabe some privacy with their new relationship. I understand that, which is why I think this plan works for both of us on multiple levels.
That doesn't mean I can coast. Or take advantage simply because I've noticed my beautiful caretaker as a woman. I need help with the girls and the house and my appointments, but that doesn't mean blurring the lines. Quite the opposite, actually.
Not only would Gabe kill me for taking advantage of his future sister-in-law, but Lindsey is pregnant and has her own life to figure out while I have two kids I can't handle, a career that may be over depending on how I heal, and a hurricane of chaos that I call home.
Not that Lindsey is interested. I'm pretty sure the last thing she's looking for is another man to disappoint her. And according to my ex, I did plenty of disappointing, which is why she'd turned to pain killers for solace. Or so she says.
"Daddy!"
I look up as my hospital-room door swings open, and Lindsey appears with Dani. Mads isn't with them, but she said last night she's working at the bookstore today. I really need to send Bronwyn a thank-you.
My niece is a bit of an odd duck, at least as far as I can tell. She's either talking nonstop and blunt as can be or surly and withdrawn. Last night, she'd gone quiet, especially after my no-dating comment. But she's only been in town a little while and dealing with her mama drama. Why rush things?
Dani runs over to my good side and gives me a hug. I lean forward despite the pull of the burns and kiss the top of her head, my gaze locking on the woman of the hour.
Lindsey enters, looking pale as always, and I wonder if she's slept at all due to the dark circles she's tried and failed to hide. "How are you feeling today?"
She manages a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and I miss seeing that frosty sparkle in the earthy pines.
"I think I'm done hurling for the morning," she says with a wry smile. "You ready to bust out of here?"
"Yeah, paperwork signed and everything. I'm good to go. You've got perfect timing. You want a ride, short stack?"
Dani giggles and nods, but Lindsey looks concerned and softly urges my daughter to be gentle climbing into my lap.
Dani scooches in on my good arm, and I hide more than a few winces when I feel her weight press against the burns on my chest and put pressure on my leg. The thigh cast makes shifting impossible, but it doesn't mean I don't feel pressure.
Dani's a tiny little thing with her mother's build, but I think I'd feel a feather against me right about now. Still, I want things to get back to normal as soon as possible, and I won't be told I can't hold my baby girl. Especially after facing my mortality in that fire.
The orderly that helped get me into the wheelchair returns for the roll through the corridors to the elevator.
While approaching the polished doors and waiting on them to open, I study our reflection and shrug off the fact I like what I see.
Lindsey looks beautiful in shorts and a flowy top, her hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head.
Dani snuggled on my lap, telling me about a llama stuffie Bronwyn has at the bookstore and how it would make the perfect birthday present.
It's like we're a family.
And it's a kick in the teeth reminder that I haven't provided that for my daughter.
Mads might be a recent addition to our crew, but Dani's mom and I separated before Dani turned one and have been divorced since Dani was two.
I can't help but think it would be nice for her to grow up in a home with two parents.
Isn't that kind of the dream? So long as the parents are happy, that is.
Downstairs, we wait for the valet to bring our ride, and as I see Bronwyn's car arrive, I realize Lindsey's put some thought into my transfer home. No way could I have climbed up into my truck. Or Gabe's Wrangler. "Thanks," I murmur.
I glance up at her and see Lindsey nod.
"I thought it would be a more comfortable ride after I caught a glimpse of yours in the driveway. Pierce drove it home from the station a few nights ago. Oh, and she said to tell you there's a knock."
I laugh at the comment, because Pierce is the one with a knock in her engine I keep telling her to have checked out. So far, she hasn't, and we're all waiting for the call to come get her when she's stuck somewhere as a result.
But that comment? It's one more step toward normal, and I'll take it with bells on.
With the orderly's help, I get settled in the backseat of the low-sitting third-row crossover, leg extended and propped sideways for the ride home. Lindsey opens the rear door for Dani to climb into the very back.
I frown at the thought of Lindsey lifting the wheelchair but remind myself she's going to be doing a lot of that in the next few weeks. Best to see if she has a problem with it now.
I watch as the orderly shows Lindsey how to fold the leg-extension prop and then the chair. She waves him away when he offers to load it, though, and swings it up and into the space beside my daughter like a pro.
Two shakes later, we're in bumper-to-bumper Wilmington traffic, jockeying for position with the tourists on their way to the beach for summer vacation. "Thanks again. For getting me out of there. I didn't want to be that guy busting out of the rehab in a hospital gown with my butt sticking out."
"Daddy, you said butt!"
Lindsey and I laugh due to Dani's infectious giggles from the peanut gallery in back of us.
Lindsey taps her fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music drifting from the speakers and glances my way via the rearview mirror.
"I can totally sympathize with you on that. It's kind of like me staying with Bronwyn. I mean, I love her dearly, and she's been gracious and wonderful."
"But?" There's definitely one there.
"But," Lindsey drawls, "she's hovering like a mother hen. If I'm moving here, I need to do this on my own terms, you know?"
Her independence is obviously important to her. I like that.
"I get it. Just remember she cares about you."
"And I appreciate it," Lindsey says, nodding as her gaze returns to the road in front of her. "But I have to stand on my own and figure this out, and I'm—"
Lindsey breaks off, and I make no bones about watching her closely until she finishes that thought—whatever it is.
When she doesn't, I narrow my gaze on her until she inhales.
"Fine," she says, lowering her voice and meeting my gaze in the mirror once more.
"I guess I'm afraid I'll get a little too dependent on her.
I don't want that. I have to do this myself.
Because that's the way that it is. The way it's going to be.
That means I have to prepare for it, and this is a way of doing that. "
I want to argue but can't. Because I get it.
The whole single-parent thing is hard, and it takes a lot of adjustments along the way.
Doing all the things physically is one thing but the emotional load?
That takes some adjusting, too. I admire Lindsey's determination and tenacity to figure things out. "How did you break the news to her?"
Her fingers start tapping again, this time more rapidly than before. I narrow my gaze on the tell and shift my attention back to her face. When she remains silent and avoids looking at me, I groan. "You didn't tell her."
I see her grimace via the rear-view mirror.
"I tried. But the words just wouldn't come out."
"So what does she think you're doing today?"
"Um…giving Dani a ride."
"Lindsey." I huff out a breath that's half amusement and half disbelief. "Gabe knows I'm being released today. I talked to him this morning."
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
"Well, I guess that'll break the ice when I talk to her next then."
Several seconds pass while I study those frosty-pine eyes. "What about your clothes? Are they still at Bronwyn's?"