Except... Doubt, that fucker, had a hold of him, sure as a nasty undertow. Reality—the friction between his optimism and indisputable facts—couldn’t be avoided forever. He stretched out, trying to find that floating numbness again. Hell, trying to find himself, trying to gear up to smash this latest round of doubts. But he kept smacking into reality. Cold and large, increasingly undeniable. And not unfamiliar either. Certain fires he’d fought had required an acceptance of available data and gut instinct, knowing when to pull back, when even all the conviction in the world wasn’t a match for the will of the fire, and reality mandated that he adapt and change course. Fuck, how he hated those moments. And this...this might be one of them, and hell if he knew what to do now.
* * *
The only thing worse than Rain being in a funk himself was Garrick being in one and not wanting to admit it. He’d been strangely distant when Rain had arrived to walk Cookie after work the day before. Not mean or snappy, but a sullenness that wasn’t usually there. However, he’d denied being down, instead claiming tiredness, which was when Rain knew something was up because it usually took Herculean efforts to get Garrick to admit to being worn out. But he’d let Garrick have his privacy and his brooding time and had returned to Grandma’s to watch another comedy with her while he quietly worried about Garrick.
But he’d had hopes that Garrick would either snap out of whatever was bringing him down or talk to him about it. Neither happened, though, and now they were on their way out of town to the party at Garrick’s friends’ place in the country. Ordinarily, their silences while driving were the good kind, either broken up by random observations and Garrick’s commentary on Rain’s music selection or stretching out, contentment and anticipation mingling. Comfortable. However, today there was nothing comfortable about Garrick’s closed-off face and stiff posture.
“Are you sore from yesterday’s workout plus PT? We can always leave early if you need to.” Rain tried to sound upbeat but flexible.
“I’m okay.” Garrick sounded anything but, and Rain groaned. The empty rural road stretched out in front of them, a gorgeous summer day with blue skies, but the storm cloud over Garrick’s head didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
“I’d ask if you want to talk about it, except you quite clearly don’t. So, instead I’ll ask if there is anything I can do?”
Garrick paused like he was actually considering a real answer, then sighed. “It’s okay.”
“Nothing?”
“You sleeping over tonight?”
“If you want, sure.” Rain refrained from pointing out how Garrick hadn’t seemed exactly open to that last night.
“Slept like utter crap last night. Maybe...you being around might help.”
“Good. I’ll plan on it then.”
“Thanks. And sorry. I know I’m being difficult. I’ll work on being better.”
Rain wanted to tell him that he’d prefer Garrick to talk, not worry about how to hide his grumpy mood, but then the GPS bleated for him to make a turn into a long gravel driveway. A small, low house with a cheerful porch sat back from the road, and a number of vehicles were already parked off to the side of the drive, which meant Rain had to park farther from the house than he’d like. All the gravel and uneven, scrubby terrain was going to be hell on the wheelchair, something he wouldn’t have thought about a few weeks ago, but now he’d learned to always be looking for accessibility issues.
“How do you want to handle it?” he asked Garrick. “If you’re up for me helping push, we can probably get the chair to the porch or—”
“I’ll take the crutches. It’ll be slow going, but I don’t want to tear up the chair. And I don’t want... Yeah. Better this way.” Garrick nodded firmly, tone resigned, as if he’d had some internal discussion that Rain hadn’t been privy to.
Which was frustrating because Rain wanted to help and couldn’t do the best job at that if Garrick wasn’t communicating, but he also wasn’t about to start an argument right here or try to make Garrick’s bad mood about him when he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with their relationship, especially given the sleepover invite.
And he tried hard not to hover as Garrick painstakingly made his way across the yard to the house. All he could really do was carry the seven-layer vegetarian dip and chips they’d brought and hope for the best. There was little actual grass though, not much to cushion Garrick if he fell, and barring fluffy grass, Rain would have given a lot for a paved path of some kind right about then. As they reached the porch, the door swung open and the guy Garrick had introduced as Linc came out.
“You made it!” He frowned as he watched their approach. “Hell, I didn’t think about your wheelchair. Do you need me to fetch it from the car for you? Need help with the steps?”
“I’ve got it.” Garrick gave his friend a tight smile. Rain knew from experience with Garrick that steps, even three flat, wide ones like these, were among Garrick’s hardest challenges. He preferred to take his time and have his space doing steps and not have someone crowding him like his overeager friend was doing. Linc kept close, acting like he could catch Garrick if he fell, hands moving restlessly like he was tempted to steer.
Good luck with that. Rain hung back, waiting until Garrick was safely on the porch before he followed after the two of them.
“You did it.” Linc had a relieved smile as he opened the door to the house. “And you brought your friend... Ryan, was it?”
“Rain.” He gave the guy a nod, more concerned with finding a spot where Garrick could sit than shaking hands.
“Right. Rain. Jacob? Garrick and his friend are here,” Linc called as they entered the small house, which was teeming with people, several of whom turned to call greetings to Garrick. A tall blond woman plucked the food from Rain’s hands and spirited it away to the kitchen.
“Dude! You came!” Jacob bounded off a sofa where some tween boys were playing video games on tablets. He motioned for Garrick to take his place. “Sit, sit.”
“Nah, man, I’m not going to take your spot.” Garrick protested even as he was still breathing hard from the stairs.
“Take it. Please. I need to go play host, not get sucked into another round of the game. And speaking of hosting, what can I get you guys to drink?”
“Did your sister bring sparkling water like usual?” Mouth twisting like he was trying to smile and failing, Garrick settled heavily on the couch, tucking crutches in next to him. Rain asked for the same before perching on the arm of the couch.
“You didn’t want a beer?” he asked in a low voice. He’d seen Garrick have a drink on a few occasions now, and he thought maybe that might relax whatever funk he’d had going on the way to the party. “I’m driving, but you go ahead.”
“Gotta be able to navigate the steps and back to the car. Hard enough. Can’t risk a buzz and my tolerance is for shit lately.” Voice a rough whisper, he grimaced again.
“Ah. Gotcha. And a pain pill would also be a no go until later?”
“Yeah. Haven’t needed one of the heavy hitters in weeks. But maybe when we get back...” He trailed off before raising his voice and getting that almost-smile in place as a woman stopped in front of them. “Jenna. I hear you made cake. How have you been?”
“Good.” The woman, who turned out to be Jacob’s mother, made small talk with them a few minutes until a minor kitchen emergency merited her attention.
“Okay, so who else here do I need to know?” Rain kept his voice down, even though the kids on the other end of the couch were paying them no mind.
“Heck. I should introduce you around.” Garrick made like he might stand, but Rain kept a firm hand on his shoulder.
“Chill. People can come to you. And I’m having fun people watching. But I want the inside scoop before I make my way to the kitchen to find us some food.”
“Okay.” Garrick nodded, his ready agree
ment another sign that he’d already overdone it. He played along with Rain, though, pointing out various family members of Jacob and people he knew in the smoke jumper community. Rain could have guessed which ones were smoke jumpers on his own—they were the buffest, most confident ones in the room. The party had spilled over to a deck beyond the kitchen, but Rain had been right as various people kept drifting their way over to say hello to Garrick. Smaller kids ran through the place along with a pack of dogs that made him glad they hadn’t tried to add Cookie to this chaos. But it was fun chaos, a lot of people and food and a welcoming atmosphere.
“You ready for some food?” he asked Garrick right as Jacob arrived with drinks.
“Yes, go get food. And while you’re in the kitchen, make sure and admire the new deck. That’s my birthday present.” Jacob had a fond look for Linc, who was deep in conversation with some of the smoke jumping crew. Rain didn’t really envy him the new deck, but he did know a pang over that glance. Damn. Everyone needed someone who thought that highly of them and who wasn’t afraid to so readily show their heart.
Jacob’s mom assisted him in loading up a plate for Garrick, helpfully telling him which dishes were vegetarian for himself. She was chatty, and by the time he made it back, Jacob had stolen his perch on the couch arm and was in the middle of a conversation with Garrick about another upcoming controlled burn. Not wanting to interrupt, he handed Garrick his plate, then took a seat on the rug by the couch, close enough to contribute a little to the work talk and close enough for Garrick to tangle a hand in his hair after he was done picking at his food. He idly played with Rain’s half-bun and the escaping strands while he kept up his end of the conversation with Jacob, who kept glancing at Garrick’s roving hand with undisguised curiosity.
Nice as the contact was, not to mention being publicly claimed like that, Rain still worried because he’d never seen Garrick without an appetite before, especially given that the party food contained many of his favorites including wings. Speaking of cute affection, Linc ruffled Jacob’s hair on the way to let in more guests, a group that included the cocky smoke jumper he’d met that first day he’d known Garrick. A bunch of people called out greetings to Jimenez’s group, and they made their way over to the couch, where handshakes and backslapping bro hugs were handed out.
“Nelson! My man!” Jimenez had a particularly hearty hello for Garrick. “Looking good. How’d that lost dog turn out?”
“Pretty good.” Garrick gave a wry smile. “She’s mine now. Spoiled rotten, but she’s a great dog.”
“Excellent. And you? How are you? When are we going to see your ass back in gear? Getting awfully quiet around the base without you talking smack.”
“I...” Garrick had already fielded a wide variety of questions about how he was, most with brief yet polite replies, but something about this one seemed to stump him. “Not happening.”
“What?” Jimenez frowned along with several others standing close by.
“I mean, I’m not going back to smoke jumping.” Garrick’s voice was loud enough to make the other swirling conversations around them stop, all eyes on him.
“What?”
“Since when?”
“What happened?”
“Really?”
The questions came from all directions, and Rain sure as hell had some too, but he was more concerned with how Garrick’s eyes were flat, no light at all, and his skin grayish, like he might need to hurl soon.
“I...need to get out of here.” Garrick used his crutches to stand, then pushed past several openmouthed people to make his way to the front door, which banged closed behind him.
“I should go after him.” Frowning, Linc headed after him, but Rain got there first.
“Let me.”
“Me and him, we go way back. Grade school even.” Linc’s eyes narrowed like he was readying more of a case for himself, then his head tilted, considering. Rain stood firm, meeting him hard stare for hard stare, and Linc must have seen something satisfactory in Rain’s gaze because finally he nodded. “Go on then.”
Not that Rain needed permission, but he appreciated not needing to battle a crowd of well-meaning folks to get to Garrick. He didn’t have to go far to find Garrick as he was still on the porch, sitting on a bench at the far end.
“Fucking steps. Can’t even storm off properly. Not to mention I didn’t drive here myself.”
“If you need to leave, we’ll leave.” Despite wanting desperately to touch him, Rain hung back, trying to figure out how to give Garrick what he needed most right then, whatever that was.
“I should go apologize first. Explain. Fuck. I hate this.”
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation. If you want, I’ll go make a quick goodbye. Then you can call Linc or whomever when you’re ready.”
“You’re too good to me.” Some of the fight went out of Garrick’s voice, leaving him sounding utterly exhausted. Worn out. Rain couldn’t not reach out now, and he rubbed one of Garrick’s concrete-pylon-tense shoulders.
“You should know by now. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. We’re totally hide-the-bodies friends.”
“Totally.” Garrick gave him a weak but grateful smile. “And yeah. I know it’s not the best, but I just want out of here.”
“Quit worrying about other people,” Rain said sternly, continuing to rub his shoulder. “I’ll make it happen for you.”
And he would because making excuses was easy. Fixing what was wrong with Garrick, though, that was going to take some work. And talking. Lots of talking. This time he wasn’t letting Garrick out of the conversation either. One way or another he was getting the whole story.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m just so fucking pissed.” Garrick finally had enough silence, enough of the quiet compassion coming from Rain’s side of the car, to feel slightly human again, less of the burnt-out-hull feeling he’d had sitting on Linc’s porch. Still, though, he surprised himself by speaking, especially by acknowledging the feeling he’d been running from ever since the day before.
“Good.” Eyes on the road, Rain nodded sharply.
“Good?” That hadn’t been the response Garrick had expected from his hippie, free-spirited lover at all.
“Good. Be angry. You’ve been bottling stuff up far too long. It’s okay to let it out.”
“But you don’t need me unloading on you...” The long list of things he was mad about welled up in him again, making it hard to breathe let alone talk.
“Dude. That’s exactly what I’m here for. I can take it. Get mad.”
Garrick had a brief flash of himself as a young teen, and his mother telling him to stop being so dramatic and needy. No one needs your bad mood. Expressing emotions was not as easy or as cathartic as Rain made it sound. It was risky and more than a little scary. People counted on him to be fun and upbeat, not an emotional downer. But somehow the words refused to stay put any longer and came tumbling out.
“Insurance doesn’t want to pay for my current schedule of PT. Fucking sucks. They blindsided me with this BS yesterday. Apparently, there’s some question about ‘medical necessity’ given that my whole fucking team thinks this may be as good as it gets for me.”
“Ah.” Rain didn’t leap in with a quick suggestion that Garrick prove them wrong or pay out of pocket. Just that. Ah. And somehow that made Garrick madder.
“You’re not surprised. Hell. Does anyone think I can beat the odds anymore?”
“Do you?” Rain’s tone was thoughtful.
Oh, now that was uncalled for, putting it back on him like that, and Garrick made a frustrated growl.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s...the odds.” Just getting those words out stung like a scrape. “They’re small now. Most big improvements with spinal cord injuries happen in the first six months, some within the first year, and rarely more within eighteen months. W
alking again, that was huge. I thought... I really believed after that that I could come the rest of the way back.”
“But now?” They were nearing town, same small streets Garrick had known his whole life, but they’d somehow never looked bleaker even with what looked to be a spectacular sunset looming.
“Time isn’t on my side,” he admitted. Whispering helped, like kids sharing ghost stories under the blankets, easier to speak his fears aloud. “My PT says I can still expect incremental progress. Incremental. That’s not going to be enough to get me back out there smoke jumping. I want to tell her to go to hell, that I will have that big breakthrough, run again. But...”
“Yeah?” Rain prodded when Garrick went silent again.
“There’s optimism and then there’s reality. And reality is what I haven’t wanted to face for months now. It’s easier to believe, really believe, down deep that I’m going to be different. The exception. The odds breaker. But at a certain point...” He swallowed hard, not sure he could continue.
“And that’s where the anger comes in,” Rain guessed. “You’re mad about having to confront those odds.”
“Yeah, exactly.” He exhaled hard. “I’m fucking pissed that all my hard work and belief hasn’t been enough. It’s so unfair.”
It was the first time he’d said that word aloud, and it banged its way out of his brain, seeming to echo through the small SUV. Unfair. Unfair. Unfair.
“It is,” Rain agreed as he turned down their street. “It’s entirely unfair.”
“Other people have it worse.” He tried to backpedal, but the anger was still there.
“It’s not the pain Olympics. Sure, other people have shitty deals too. Lots of unfairness to go around. But that doesn’t negate the fact that this is unfair and it does suck. You’re right. You worked hard. You had a good attitude. You did everything you were supposed to. Anyone else would be mad and sad and pissed off about the unfairness of it all.”
“I’m lucky to be alive.” God knew he’d had enough people telling him that over the past year.
High Heat Page 17
