Falling for Her Army Doc

by Dianne Drake

  “So for now you stay here, and we’ll see what we can figure out.”

  “But the military...they know where I am?” he asked.

  “Of course they do. I called them because you’re not free of your obligation and they had to know. Like I’ve told you before, I play by the rules. But they’re not going to come and take you away from here, Mateo. At least not yet. All they wanted was to know where you were and what you were doing. I told them you were going into outpatient care in a few days.”

  “That’s what you think I’m going to do?”

  “That’s what I know you’re going to do if you want to stay here. Janis approved it and, for the record, it’s your last chance. After this the Army takes you back, and they’ll be the only ones with a say in what happens.”

  Finally, he relaxed back into the sofa. “These last weeks it’s like someone’s always doing something to me, and most of the time not even consulting me before they do it. You’re the first one who’s ever told me beforehand what would happen, and I appreciate that.”

  “So...you mentioned your mother doesn’t know about your current condition? Why is that? Is there some way she could take over medical responsibility for you until you’re through this?”

  He shook his head adamantly. “She has advanced diabetes. Arthritis. Partially blind. The less she knows, the better off she is. Like I said before, I do call her every day, and as soon as I’m free to travel I’ll go to see her. But I don’t want the stress of knowing what I’m going through anywhere near her. She deserves a better life than she’s ever had before and I’m not going to deprive her of that.”

  “Which makes you a very good son.”

  She recalled how, in her dad’s decline, she’d tried to keep so many things away from him—things that would cause him stress. So she certainly understood what Mateo was doing, and even admired him for that. It wasn’t easy. She knew that.

  “I remember when my mother became a citizen in the US. She’d studied for weeks, worked hard to learn the history, the language, and I think the day she was sworn in was one of the proudest days of her life. Making a new life isn’t easy, and she did it for me.”

  “And you?”

  “I was too young to realize all the sacrifices she was making to give me a better life. I don’t think I appreciated it the way I should. And my mother... I don’t want her worrying about me. It’s the least I can do. And she’s happy back in Mexico, living near her sister, proud of her son the...the doctor.” He nearly choked on the words.

  She thought about the life her dad had made for her. That had never been easy either, but it had always been good. And he’d put aside many opportunities because he’d chosen to be a father first.

  “Anyway, what’s next, Mateo? What do you want to happen or expect to happen?”

  He chuckled, but bitterly. “Look, Lizzie. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m sure that’s obvious. But I’m not going to impose, and I’m not going to expect you to be my doctor while I’m here.”

  “Like I could be your doctor,” she said. “That would require ethical considerations I don’t want to think about. Doctor brings patient home for special treatment? Nope, not me. I can be your friend, even a medical colleague, but not your doctor. So, my friend, I want to take a walk down to The Shack and ask them why they thought it was appropriate to tell someone where I live.”

  “Then what?” he asked.

  “Then guilt them into free shrimp burgers. They’re so good. But no beer. And no dancing on the table.”

  “In my defense, it was only a couple feet off the ground.”

  “You have no defense, Mateo. Absolutely none. And if I catch you up on a table, and I don’t care how high it is...” She pointed to the chaise on the lanai. “That’s as far as you’ll go. I might toss you a pillow and a plate of food every now and then, but if you dance on a table I’m done.”

  Mateo laughed. “You know, from the first moment I saw you walk by my hospital room I knew you were a real softie. Your threats don’t scare me, Lizzie. You haven’t got it in you to make me sleep out there.”

  Unfortunately, that was true. Something about Mateo caused her usual resolve to simply melt away.

  * * *

  It wasn’t like him to think only in the moment. At least, he didn’t think it was like him. He’d looked at his calendar and seen that he’d made notes about plans well into the future. Some things still months away. That was certainly a personality trait he didn’t remember—especially now, when he was basically on the edge of living rough and not particularly worried about it.

  Was that because he knew he could count on Lizzie as his backup?

  Mateo looked at his half-eaten shrimp burger and wondered if he even liked shrimp. Had he been allergic his throat would have swollen shut by now. He might even be dead. But he wasn’t, and his throat was fine.

  Subconsciously, he raised his hand to his throat and rubbed it.

  “You OK?” Lizzie asked him.

  She was sitting across from him at a high-top for two, looking like an Irish lassie who simply fitted in here. Red hair wild. Brown eyes sparkling with gold flecks that were highlighted by the glow of the citronella candle on their table. The brightest, widest smile he’d ever seen.

  “Just wondering if I have allergies.”

  “According to your military records, you don’t.”

  “You really know more about me than I know about myself, don’t you?” he asked. Realizing she had access to his life while he didn’t felt strange.

  “You do understand why I don’t just tell you everything I know, don’t you?”

  “So you won’t fill my impressionable mind with fake notions of who I am. I know it would be easy...false memories and all that. But sitting here with a stranger who knows me inside and out, while only a couple of hours ago I was homeless without a plan is...disconcerting.”

  Lizzie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’ll bet it is. But if you ever settle down you’ll work through some of it. Maybe even more than you expect.”

  He studied her hand for a moment—porcelain-smooth skin, a little on the pale side compared to most of the people at The Shack. Nice hand. Gentle.

  “Now that you’re not restricted by any kind of medical ethics with me, tell me how much I can expect to return. Or how much will never return. Can you do that much for me?”

  She pulled her hand back. “There’s no formula for that, Mateo. No way to predict. I’d like to be able to give you a definitive answer, but the brain can’t be predicted. You may be where you’re always going to be now, or you may improve. Losing pieces of yourself—or, as I call it, living in a fog—has got to be difficult. I see it, and I understand it, but I can’t relate to it.”

  He smiled. “Wish I couldn’t relate to it either. Look, I appreciate you taking me in for a couple of days. I really do need some time to figure out what comes next. But you’re not responsible for me, Lizzie. Just be patient for a little while, and on my end of it I promise no more dancing on the table or anything else. I’ll be cooperative. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  He meant it, too. It was time to figure out his life, and it was nice having a friend on his side to help him. A friend who was patient and caring the way Lizzie was.

  “Why didn’t you do that at the hospital?”

  “Four walls, a bed, and a window to the world. That’s all it was, and it scared me, Lizzie. Still does when I think that’s all my life might be about.”

  “So you refuse traditional help, do everything you can to distance yourself from it, in order to—what? I want to know, Mateo. If I hadn’t lived within walking distance of the hospital, or if a couple of the people who work here hadn’t known where I live, what would you have done? Because so far all you’ve done is walk away. From Germany, from the veterans’ facility in Boston, then in Califor
nia, and from the hospital here. From—”

  She shut up and took a bite of her burger.

  “From everything, Mateo,” she said, once she’d swallowed. “And it all adds up to you walking away from yourself.”

  “You were going to say fiancée, weren’t you?”

  “You remember her?”

  “Vaguely. Must have been a short relationship, because she didn’t leave much behind in my head. Except, maybe... She didn’t want to live with someone in my condition, did she?”

  “Actually, I don’t know the whole story. It was in your chart, but since you weren’t my patient I didn’t read it. The only things I know about you are what I heard at the weekly patient review meetings.”

  “That’s right. By the book, Lizzie.”

  “You think that’s a problem?”

  “I think in today’s medical world it’s an asset. There are too many people getting involved in aspects of a patient’s care who shouldn’t.”

  Suddenly he could feel the tiredness coming on. And the headache. Dull to blinding in sixty seconds. So, rather than pursuing this conversation, he stood abruptly, tossed a few dollars on the table—enough to cover both meals and a tip—then walked away. He wanted to get out of there before the full force of the headache made him queasy, caused him to stagger.

  Once away from The Shack, Mateo headed toward the beach, then sat down on the sand, shut his eyes, and tried to clear his head.

  Right now, he didn’t care about what Lizzie was holding back. All he cared about was the pain level rising in him and how to control it.

  And that didn’t come easy these days. Not easy at all.

  * * *

  She wasn’t going to interrupt him, sitting alone out there on the sand. Mateo was entitled to his moods and his mood swings and it wasn’t her place to hover over him. If he needed her help, he’d ask. Or not.

  It was almost an hour later when he returned to the house. When she looked in Mateo’s eyes she saw how lost he was, but she also saw the depth of the man. He was in there—just locked away.

  “Look, I’m going out for a night swim, then I’m going to sit on the lanai for a while to relax. You’re welcome to come, or you’re welcome to stay here and read a book, watch a movie—whatever you want to do.”

  “You don’t have to feel responsible for me, Lizzie. I can take care of myself.”

  “I was just being polite. You look tired, and I thought a swim might make you feel better.”

  He looked more than tired. He looked weary. Beaten down. He looked like a man who was fighting with everything he had to get back on the right path. It worried her, even though she had no right to be worried. Still, she couldn’t help herself. There was something about Mateo that simply pulled at her.

  “And I was just being honest. I don’t want you disrupting your life for me.”

  She smiled. “To be honest, I hadn’t intended on doing that. I just thought it would be a nice way to end the evening.”

  With that she went upstairs, changed into her swimsuit—a modest one-piece, black, no frills, nothing revealing—and went straight to the beach alone, leaving Mateo watching some blathering documentary on her TV.

  Too bad, she thought as she dipped her toe in the surf. He might have enjoyed this. And she might have enjoyed doing this with him.

  * * *

  She was stunning, even though she was trying to hide it in that swimsuit. But her kind of beauty couldn’t be hidden. Not the outside beauty, and not the inside beauty.

  This was a huge imposition, him living in her home. He knew that. But so much of him wanted to get to know her and, while ending up here really hadn’t been his intention, when good fortune had smiled on him he hadn’t had it in him to turn his back on it.

  He moved along the beach from where Lizzie had entered the water. He wanted to join her, but he didn’t want to impose. Yet he’d wandered down here, not sure what he was hoping for. Another invitation? Perhaps nothing?

  In all honesty he had no right to think anything or want anything, in his condition. But watching Lizzie... It gave him hope he hadn’t felt before. Maybe something in him would change. Or something would reset and at least allow him to look forward.

  Unfortunately, Lizzie coming into his life now was too soon. He could see himself with her, but not yet.

  Sighing, Mateo shut his eyes. All he could see was Lizzie. Her face. The way she looked at him. Sadness. Compassion. She had the power to change a man. The power to change him. And maybe that was good. He didn’t know, but it felt right. Felt like he was ready.

  She’d been on his mind constantly, and he’d thought of little else other than Lizzie from that first moment in the hospital, when she’d walked into his room, sat down in the chair opposite him and hadn’t said a word. Not one single word. She had smiled as she’d watched him, but she hadn’t talked, and it had got to the point that it had been so distracting, even annoying, that he’d been the one to break the silence.

  “Why are you doing that?” he’d asked her.

  “Sometimes you learn more from observing than talking,” she’d told him.

  “And what did you learn from observing me?” he’d asked.

  “That you’re not going to be easy for your doctors.”

  Mateo chuckled. Prophetic words. He hadn’t been. Still wasn’t. And she’d known that simply by observing him.

  * * *

  “There’s a shorter way back to the house,” Lizzie said, sitting down beside him on the rock where he’d been sitting for the past half hour.

  “I didn’t hear you coming.” He scooted over to give her room.

  “But I saw you sitting here. I used to sit here back when my dad was getting bad. I was looking for answers, and even though there were none I always went away with a sense of calm. Back then, calm was good.”

  “This whole area is nice. Not sure I found any calm here, but the view is amazing.” He slid his hand across the rock until it was just skimming hers. “The only places I’ve ever lived were congested...loud.”

  “Sounds like a tough way to live life,” Lizzie commented.

  “There are a lot of tough ways to live life, Lizzie. Some we choose, some we don’t.” He stood. “Anyway, it’s been a long, unexpected day, and I’m ready to see if I can get some more sleep. So...” He looked at her, then shrugged. “Care to have me walk you home?”

  Lizzie smiled, then stood and took his arm. “I always did love a gallant man. Just never knew they existed outside of fairy-tale books.”

  “Well, consider me a poor and humble prince who’s at your beck and call.” He gave her a low-sweeping bow then extended his arm to her.

  “Poor?” she asked, as they made their way along the path. “I saw your financials when you were admitted. You’re not wealthy, but you’re certainly not poor.”

  “Then maybe poor of spirit?”

  Lizzie laughed. “Somehow I doubt that. I think you’re a man with an abundance of spirit. It’s just that your spirit is in hiding right now.”

  * * *

  Mateo was testing her like he’d done in the hospital with everyone else he’d encountered. It was the same, but different, because now he was living in the real world, which called for real coping skills instead of avoidance.

  He’d get the hang of it. She was sure of that. But what he wouldn’t get the hang of was using her as his enabler. Once she’d enabled her dad too much for too long. In doing that she’d denied the obvious—that the next corner he turned would be worse than the one before. And the one after that worse again.

  Well, not with Mateo. He was testing new legs, so to speak. Taking new steps. Learning new things to fill in the gaps. As much as she wanted to make it her battle, it wasn’t. For Mateo to get better, find his new direction, he had to take those steps by himself, fight his way through to something that fit.
>
  She could be on the sidelines, watching, maybe holding out a supporting hand. But it was his destiny to control. She had to keep telling herself that. His destiny, not hers.

  But it wasn’t easy walking into her house by herself, going up the steps to bed alone. No, none of it was easy. In the morning, though, depending on what Mateo did or didn’t do tonight, she’d decide what she would do. Or would not do.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE SMELL WAS HEAVENLY. Coffee and... Was something baking? Lizzie wanted to bask in bed a while longer, simply to enjoy the rich variety of aromas drifting up to her, and she could do that. Nothing was stopping her. She was on holiday, after all. She could bask, lounge, sleep, do anything she wanted.

  But the clock on her phone showed it was just a few minutes until eleven, which meant she’d spent most of the morning doing that already. It was amazing how good it felt—especially with her bad sleeping habits. Never more than an hour or two at a time. Sometimes missing sleep altogether for a day or more.

  Also, she wanted to see Mateo. No particular reason. She simply wanted to see him and ask what he planned for the day.

  So a quick shower and Lizzie was on her way downstairs, where he was waiting for her at the bottom, holding out a coffee mug.

  “There was no cream, and you don’t strike me as the type who’d go in for gratuitous sugar, so it’s black. But I did find a papaya tree outside and I picked a ripe one, juiced it, and added a bit to your coffee.”

  “You remember what a papaya is?” She was not only pleased, she was surprised.

  “My mother used to make them into a salsa to use on fish tacos. And papaya cake. That was the best.”

  “I’ll bet it was,” she said, taking a sip and letting it glide down her throat. “What else can you cook?”

  He smiled. “Well, those fish tacos I just mentioned. Although I try to eat on the healthy side. Tacos, enchiladas, tamales, burritos...they might be food for the gods, but when you work out every day the way I used to do they’re also food for the waistline, and it’s never been my desire to see mine grow.” He patted his belly. “So far, so good. Oh, and I baked muffins, if you’re interested. Healthy ones. No sugar, no butter.”