by Tessa Gray
Grabbing his crutches, he slowly rose from the chair and made his way toward the door—the thump of the crutches echoing loudly.
He unlatched the bolt, and Rachel poured into the room—a casserole dish in her hands. “This lasagna is nice and hot, Jake. I suggest you eat it right now.” She scurried to the kitchen and grabbed several plates.
Hobbling over to where she stood, he waited for her to say something. She stared at him, her eyes clouding. When she dipped her head, he studied her thoroughly. The navy colored capris she wore accentuated her amazing figure—something he’d memorized over their years together. She wore a simple looking white top that hugged her curves. It frustrated him that he still found her attractive.
She pulled out the drawer where the silverware was kept and grabbed several forks.
They stood in silence, and when she motioned him to the table, he continued standing there, digging one of the crutches into the linoleum.
This morning his appearance hadn’t bothered him enough to force him to clean up, but watching Rachel stand here staring at him, he was having second thoughts.
He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be in her shoes, standing here, seeing how unkept he looked. Up until the accident, he’d been almost fanatical about his appearance. But now, it didn’t matter.
Although he detested himself for giving consideration to Rachel’s feelings, he decided to clean up his act—literally.
“How about if you put the lasagna in the oven while I go clean up? I won’t be long.”
Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder. When the golden flecks in her eyes lit up, he smiled. He’d appease her, just this one time. He wouldn’t make a habit of it. But just this one time wouldn’t hurt anything.
~ ~ ~
Rachel smiled when Jake made his way into the kitchen, his crutches thudding loudly. The tan cargo shorts he wore hung loosely about him. He’d lost weight since the accident, and that concerned her. He couldn’t really stand to shed any pounds.
As he positioned himself in a chair and bent over to set his crutches down, she looked at the gray hair around his temples. He’d aged since the accident, and his sudden disinterest in his appearance worried her. Intent on not bringing up something that had the potential to upset him, she focused on the meal.
“I know that my lasagna is one of your favorites, Jake. I’ve made plenty. If you’d like, I’d be happy to make more—given how much you like it.”
He sat there for several seconds and finally smiled. “It looks delicious. To be honest, I haven’t really sat down to a good meal in a while.”
“Well, you eat as much as you’d like, Jake. Like I said, I’d be happy to make more.”
Both sat stiffly, and she struggled to think of something else to talk about. In all their time together, the two seldom ran out of topics. And yet, now, keeping up a conversation proved to be a major challenge.
“There’s beer in the fridge, Rachel, if you’re wanting something stronger to drink than iced tea.” He stared at his glass after he said it, and she suspected he wanted her to get them both a beer. Given the fact it was barely noon and that he might be on pain medication, she resisted.
“If you’re not taking anything for pain, I’d be glad to fetch you a beer. If you are, I’ll be sure and bring you some non-alcoholic beer the next time I come.”
His mouth tugged into a smile and he shook his head. “Nothing gets past you, does it? Fine. I’ll settle for iced tea.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“You do know that when you leave, I’m going to grab myself a couple of beers, right?”
She dipped her head, trying to hide how worried she was about him. Neither spoke for several seconds. Finally, she got her bearings. “What you do on your own time is your business. I have no control over that, but while I’m here, I hope you’ll be considerate enough not to mix alcohol and pain medication.”
When she looked up, he was staring at her. “I’m not your responsibility, and really, I never was. I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.” Although the message was very direct, his tone was soft, and she wished to God he’d reach out to her because her heart ached for him—ached at what he was going through—ached because he seemed intent on shutting her out. Based on what Adam had told her, Jake had pretty much shut everyone out.
“You might think that you’re the only one the accident changed, Jake. But in some ways, it changed all of us. I think—”
He cut her off before she could finish. “Since I’m the one dealing with all the shit, let me be clear. If my accident changed them, that’s their problem. And for the record, it’s no one else’s business how I’m dealing with all this. Not yours. Not Adam’s. Not Nathan’s. You should probably leave.”
“I’m just trying to help—”
“I told you this before. Stay out of my business. I can handle this on my own.”
She studied the grim expression on his face—the look that told her he was dead serious. In the past he’d compromised on many things, but this would not be one of them. And if she continued pushing him too hard, he’d totally shut down. Her level of involvement would be on Jake’s terms, not hers.
Hoping he’d let her stay longer, she changed the subject. “I’ve spoken to my parents several times since the accident. They always ask how you’re doing.”
He dished up another helping of the lasagna. “Give them my best the next time you talk to them.” The comment was gracious, considering how much her father had always disapproved of him.
She took several bites of the lasagna, and out of the corner of her eye, she watched him scarf down a second helping of the meal. Once again, they ate in silence. But this time it didn’t feel uncomfortable.
After a few minutes, she stood up to clear the dishes. “I’ll get these, Jake. You should probably relax. Maybe we can watch a movie on TV or something.”
When she turned to face him, they nearly plowed into each other. One of the crutches dropped to the floor, and she knelt to retrieve it. As she rose, he stretched out his hand. His grip was firm, and she held on longer than necessary.
She stood close enough to smell the musk he was wearing, inhaling his scent and remembering. Swallowing several times, she felt tongue-tied as the two stared at one another.
She wanted nothing more than to lean against him, promising that she’d be there for him; be there for him to rely on; be there for him to talk to openly about the tragedy he’d suffered; be there to lift his spirits when they needed lifting. Her stomach pitched wildly, and she realized she was in turmoil. Maybe she was the one who needed a therapist.
When she finally handed the crutch back to him, he propped it under an arm and began walking away from her. He hadn’t responded to her request to stick around and watch television. She took that as a no.
A loud knock on the door broke her train of thought and she followed Jake into the other room to answer it.
He jerked open the door and Nathan Wainwright entered, carrying several bags of groceries.
When she locked gazes with Nathan, his tone was crisp. “Hello, Rachel.” But he quickly turned his attention to Jake. “Hey, buddy. The game’s about to start. Those Rangers look pretty good this season, don’t they? I brought us some snacks and non-alcoholic beer. My wife agreed to take the kids so I could spend some time with you. God, I love that woman. She’s a saint.”
“Rachel just stopped by to drop off some of her lasagna.” He looked squarely at her as he continued. “Thanks for the meal. Nathan and I will probably be watching sports all afternoon. You’d be bored to death.”
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Jake. It was nice seeing you again, Nathan. Give Kelsey and the kids my best.” She walked into the kitchen and grabbed her purse.
When she retrieved her handbag from the count
er, Jake had followed her. He spoke, his voice terse. “I think it’d be best if you stayed away, Rachel.”
“Best for whom?”
“Best for both of us.”
Nodding, she fought back tears. If there was ever a time to tell him her nagging suspicion that it was probably her phone call that had contributed to the accident, it was now. Since he detested her this much anyway, she may as well. And in all honesty, maybe he already knew the truth.
“Jake, I need to tell you something . . .”
Nathan’s voice bellowed loudly from the other room. “The game’s starting, Jake. Get in here or you’ll miss the first inning.”
“Be right in, buddy.” After Jake hollered back, he turned to Rachel. “Whatever you have to say can wait, Rachel. It’s tough for Nathan to leave his family and spend time with me. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Before she could reply, he headed into the room where Nathan sat. When she heard them laughing, she walked over to the front door and let herself out.
Chapter 7
Leonard Kincaid checked his watch as the next client walked into his office. As patients went, Jake Crenshaw was one of the least forthcoming he’d ever encountered.
Jumping to his feet, he extended his hand. “Jake, it’s good to see you again. Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”
“No, thank you.” Jake sat down, dropped his crutches to the floor, and leaned forward in his chair, head bowed. He appeared considerably thinner than during last week’s session, and his demeanor seemed different.
“So, how are things going?”
He intentionally left things open-ended, hoping his client would feel free to tell him anything he wanted to. Getting Jake to open up was like pulling teeth, leaving him frustrated.
Jake looked back up, the crow’s feet around his eyes more pronounced than last week. Finally, he answered the question posed. “Things are going just fine, Dr. Kincaid.”
The dark blue chambray shirt Jake wore hung loosely about him, and although he’d promised himself to give Jake time to get his bearings and open-up, Leonard continued probing. “So, how do you feel about the progress we’ve made, Jake?”
When his client shrugged, he continued pressing him. “The main purpose of these sessions is to help you deal with what happened to you. In many ways, your accident was life-altering. But then, you don’t need me to tell you that, do you?”
“Nope.” Jake slumped down in the chair and stared past him.
Frustrated, the doctor climbed to his feet and walked across the room. Pouring himself a coffee, he spoke to his client. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”
“No, sir.” After Jake made the comment, he sat for nearly a full minute, saying nothing. But then he looked him squarely in the eye and spoke. “I’ve decided not to do these therapy sessions anymore. I don’t need them. They’re a waste of time. I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but coming here isn’t going to solve my problems. And to be honest, I’m the type of guy who relies on himself, so I think it’d be best if you spent your time helping someone else.”
Setting the coffee mug down on his desk, Leonard slid back into his chair. Taking off his psychiatrist hat, he got down to brass tacks. “Sometimes it’s not a good fit between a therapist and client. I have a colleague who I believe might be better able to help you.”
“Like I said, I don’t really need these sessions.” Jake brows furrowed, and the expression on his face was pinched.
“I disagree, Jake. It’s important that you continue the counseling.”
Jake sat quietly for several seconds. Clearing his throat, he spoke, his tone melancholic. “This isn’t really my thing, sitting around like this, talking about my problems.” He dipped his head, and quickly looked away.
“Everyone needs help from time to time, Jake. There’s no shame in that. You do know that therapists have shrinks, right?”
He laughed at the remark, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve heard that, Doc.”
Leonard exhaled, glad that his client seemed less defensive. In all the weeks he’d counseled Jake, never once had he heard him laugh.
But his patient’s next comment put a squelch on the initial rush he’d felt.
“I totally get that my life is fucked up, but you know what, I don’t care. I really don’t care. Maybe someday I will, but right now, I don’t.”
Without another word, Jake grabbed his crutches, rose from the chair, and headed toward the door. Before Leonard could stop him, he left.
After Jake had left, the doctor picked up his cell phone and made a call, hoping another therapist could help Jake more than he had.
~ ~ ~
Rachel pulled into the parking lot of Penny’s Diner. Staring at the distant foothills, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Despite all the turmoil in her life, she loved it here. While she adored the culture of Dallas, she never felt a kinship with the community like she did here in Alpine. And she liked the fact everyone knew her. They’d welcomed her with open arms and still referred to her as Jake’s girl.
She approached the diner with a sense of reluctance, wondering what she’d say when people asked how he was doing. They’d expect her to know, of course. But he’d made it clear that he wanted her to stay away.
The small bell hanging above the door jingled as she made her way inside. She smiled, aware that every single time she heard a bell with the same sound, she’d think of the Penny’s Diner.
She stepped into the foyer, nearly colliding with Sarah Wainwright.
Sarah wrapped her arms about Rachel, giving her an enormous hug. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Hey, there. Good to see you. Where is that adorable son of yours?”
“I’m helping build a Habitat for Humanity home here in town, so Mama is taking care of him.”
“As busy as you are, I’m surprised you have time for that.” After Rachel said it she realized it sounded more like a criticism than a compliment, so she added, “I think it’s wonderful of you to do this, Sarah, and I suspect you get a great deal of satisfaction in return.”
“I’ve helped out with Habitat for a long time. In fact, Jake used to help, too.”
“He did?” Rachel scrunched up her face, shocked Jake had never mentioned this.
“Well, that was way before your time. Once he met you, I guess his priorities changed.” Sarah stared at her and quickly added, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He—he’s doing okay, I guess. I’ve seen very little of him lately. I brought over some lasagna awhile back, but since then, he hasn’t returned my calls. I’ve reached out to him several times, but he’s quick to remind me that he doesn’t need help. I-I want so desperately to be of some assistance, Sarah, but he’s pushing me away.” She detested unloading like this on Sarah, but she couldn’t help herself.
Reaching out, Sarah gave her a hug. “Don’t take it personally, Rach. Jake’s always been the type to pitch in and help everyone with their problems, but he can’t bear the thought of relying on anyone else. He’s always been wired like that. But, of course, you, better than anyone else, already know that.”
“Since he never talks to me, I have no idea if he’s still going to counseling or not. I hope he is, but I don’t know for sure if that’s the case. He’s still not working, so I’m not sure if he has anyone to talk to. It’s so unlike Jake to be alone. I’m so worried about him I could burst.”
Sarah patted her shoulder. “You’re not in charge of him. The man has to make his own decisions.” This wasn’t at all what Rachel wanted to hear.
“You know, maybe I should offer to drive him out to the Habitat site. Maybe it would do him good to see some familiar sites, to
reconnect with some of his friends.”
Sarah stared at her, a slack-jawed expression on her face. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I know you have good intentions, but you need to allow Jake to get his life together in his time frame, not yours.”
It took a second for the comment to sink in. Sarah had a point. “I, um, I guess I never thought about it that way. I can be a control freak at times. I probably need to step back and let Jake find his own way.”
But even as she made the comment, deep down, she realized it would prove nearly impossible not to try and push Jake into reestablishing his old life—to get out from under this cloud of anger that was consuming him. But, a nagging doubt filled her. Was she helping or hurting Jake?
Sarah turned to leave. “I’d better head over to the Habitat site and get back to work. It was nice seeing you, Rachel. I’ll make a point of driving over to see Jake sometime.”
“I’m sure he’d like that very much.”
“Um, Rachel, one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
Sarah stared at her intently and hesitated. “I know you have good intentions, but sometimes you need to take a step back.”
Although the remark stung, Rachel decided to let it go. She’d think about it later. Never one to give up, she’d reach out to Jake one more time. And if he didn’t accept her help, she’d wash her hands of him. Just as Sarah suggested.
~ ~ ~
Jake leaned back against the sofa and took another swig of beer. Glancing at the screen on his phone, he noticed that both Adam and Nathan had called.
He heard the back door open. That would be Rachel. She’d called a few minutes ago, insisting she had something important to tell him.
“Jake?”
“In here,” he bellowed.
He heard her footsteps as he inhaled the scent of lavender.
