Rich looked around the darkened house. “Looks like she could have called sooner.” He crossed the room and stopped next to Thomas. “Need help back to the chair?”
“I gotta piss.”
Rich righted the walker, placing it in front of Thomas. “I hope that’s something you can handle on your own.”
“I got it.”
He came back from the bathroom to find the blinds open, bright light reflecting off the snow covering the ground. Rich was on the floor with a towel, wiping up a puddle of beer. “This is cold.”
“It was fresh.”
Rich stopped mid swipe to look up at him. “It’s nine in the morning.”
“Why does it matter what time it is?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” Rich stood, standing the TV tray back on its legs. “You know you can’t drink with pain pills, right?”
“Not takin’ any.” Thomas headed for his chair. He needed to sit back down and get his leg up.
“What? Didn’t they give you a prescription?”
“They don’t help. Didn’t fill it.”
“Holy cow man. You fuckin’ mangled your leg.” Rich shook his head, the line between his eyebrows drawn tight. “You gotta get those pills and start taking them.”
“I don’t want to take any fucking pills.”
“So you’re just gonna sit here and be miserable?”
“Seems like.”
“That’s fucked up. What about that girl? The one who saved you. Your mom is hard up that you two are gonna get together.”
“That’s her problem.” Thomas angled himself back into the recliner and snapped it back into position. He swiped is arm across his forehead at the sweat brought on by pain and exertion.
Fate really fucked him on this one. Just when he thought maybe he could get past what happened with Mary, finally move on, his whole world came crashing back down again. He was a fucking invalid. It was all he could do to make it to the bathroom and back and the last thing he needed to be reminded of was Mina.
She hardly left his mind since the night she came to see him at the hospital. The night he held her hand as she explained what happened in the barn that morning. How she found him bleeding out. The way he screamed when she cinched his belt around his injured leg trying to stop the bleeding. She told him about trying to keep him awake, afraid if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t wake back up.
He watched as she apologized for hurting him, pain and regret etched into her beautiful face. All he wanted to do that night was hold her. Wipe away the tears she was crying because of him. Run his hands softly through her hair as he told her how grateful he was. How amazingly strong he thought she was.
But he couldn’t. Not then. That night though, he decided one day very soon he would.
His mother was right.
No one would understand what she had been through like he could. No one else could appreciate the strength required to not only survive, but thrive after the life you once had falls apart. He could be the man she would finally be able to lean on. The man she would look to for support, and acceptance and love.
The next day, he woke up from his little fantasy land.
The doctors gave him the facts about his injuries and recovery. Actually, what they gave him was a bunch of maybe’s and potentially’s and possibly’s and more bullshit answers.
Would he walk on his own again? Potentially.
How long till the pain went away? Could be six months, could be two years, could be never.
Would he be able to work again? It depends.
What about his memory? The brain is complicated.
His future was a crap shoot. Nobody knew, most wouldn’t even guess. He was a cripple. No use to himself and definitely not to anyone else. Mina deserved a man who could give her everything, not some lame fucking duck she had to take care of.
“If you don’t get your shit together you’re gonna have a problem.” Rich went to the kitchen and came back with a clean rag to wipe the worn wood floor clean of any stickiness.
“She’s going to drive you crazy until you give up and do it just to get her to go home.” He swiped the floor clean and stood back up.
“Why don’t you give me your prescription and I’ll go get it filled for you. I’ll bring you back some lunch and maybe it will improve your disposition.”
“I don’t want the goddamned pills.” The pills couldn’t fix what was really wrong.
Rich sighed. “Whatever man.”
He expected Rich to leave, but he continued to stand in the middle of the living room, blocking the television, folding and unfolding the rag in his hand.
“We have something else to talk about.”
Thomas’ head hurt. His leg hurt. He was tired and aggravated and he just wanted to be left alone. He was regretting not answering Nancy’s calls. She would have been easier to deal with at this point.
“SureFarm is looking to expand. They want to make an offer on the farm.”
What was he talking about? The farm wasn’t for sale. Had never been for sale. “What, you want to sell the farm now?”
“They’ve been asking for the past year. Maybe running the farm is just too much for us. With my… setback, and you now having some things going on, maybe it’s a sign we just need to move on.”
Thomas rubbed his head trying to ease his headache. Maybe it would make sense. “They say how much they’d pay?”
“Three point five.”
“Mom’s place?”
“We’d keep.” Rich stared at him like he expected an answer right now.
He wouldn’t be getting one. This wasn’t a simple cut and dry situation. The farm had been in their family for years. The boys grew up there. Just like their mothers did.
Thomas flicked on the TV and reached for a swig of beer.
“You knocked it on the floor in your little temper tantrum.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Hell, somebody needs to. Might put you in a better mood.” Rich headed to the kitchen, turning as he reached the doorway. “You gonna think on it?”
“Yup.”
He nodded. “I’ll call you in the next couple days, see what you decide.”
“Yup.”
Thomas could hear him cursing under his breath as he made his way through the kitchen and out the door. Something about being a son of a bitch pain in the ass. He didn’t feel too bad considering he’d probably said the same thing about Rich a time or two.
His thumb pressed the button on the remote, changing channels every second, not really seeing what was on any of them.
If he wasn’t going to get better, he had to sell the farm. Financially it didn’t make sense to keep it if all their money was eaten up paying for labor. But he didn’t want to sell the farm.
He wanted to get better. He wanted to be back out in the fields this spring putting everything in the ground. He wanted everything to go back to normal. And he wanted Mina. He wanted to show her how very much he appreciated what she did for him. He wanted to do everything for her every day and everything to her every night.
You know what they say. Shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which one fills up first. He shifted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position, but only succeeded in aggravating his already painful leg.
Maybe he should have let Rich get those pills.
**************************************
“I swear to God Tommy. I am just about over your shit.”
A pillow flung at him from across the room hit him square in the face just as he was opening his eyes from a restless sleep. “What the hell mom?”
“You heard me. You’re supposed to be a grown man aren’t you?”
Nancy stood at the foot of the recliner hands on hips, eyebrows halfway up her forehead, glaring at him.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yes I’m a goddamned grown man and I can sit here on my ass and rot if I freakin’ want.” He tossed the pillow back on the couch where Nancy’d
found it.
“How do you figure? The way you’re acting, you can’t do anything. That means somebody’s gotta bring you food and take out the trash and all but wipe your ass while you rot. And let me tell you, it certainly is not going to be me.”
“I guess I’ll starve instead. It’ll be faster”
Nancy grabbed another pillow off the couch and chucked it at him. This one, he saw coming and deflected with his forearm.
“You’re a pain in the ass you know?” She huffed her way into the kitchen. Much to his dismay, the noises coming from that direction were not the sound of her slamming the door and stomping off in a fit, but running water and dishes clinking. The soft rustling of plastic bags was a good sign he wouldn’t be starving to death. Not today anyway.
Ten minutes later Nancy returned, plopping down a turkey sandwich and chips on his tray. She crossed her arms and glared at him.
“Right now I’m working under the assumption your being an ass ‘cause you’re hungry. Get some food on your stomach and then you can take your pills and hopefully your outlook will improve.”
“I don’t have any pills.”
“Yes you do.”
“No. I don’t”
Nancy pulled a bottle out of her jeans pocket. “You do now.”
“I don’t want them. They don’t help.”
“You didn’t even give them a chance.”
Thomas eyed the sandwich, his stomach rumbling. He grabbed one half and bit off a third. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
“This is good.” A chunk of tomato landed on his lap as he shoved another bite in.
“Why are you doing this?”
He swallowed the mouthful. “I’m not doing anything.”
Nancy flopped down on the couch. “That’s the problem Tommy. You are sitting here, doing nothing but feel sorry for yourself and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”
He looked up from his plate. “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know why? My head looks like fuckin’ Frankenstein. My leg’s mangled to hell. What am I supposed to do?”
Nancy stared at him silently, eyes wide.
“That’s right. Nothing. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Nancy clamped her mouth shut. Her lips thinned into a straight line as she stared at him. “Everything was lining up for you Thomas, and you’re just going to walk away?”
“No. I’m not.” He took another bite of sandwich. “I can’t walk.”
“That’s your choice.”
“How in the hell do you figure any of this is my choice?”
“It’s the same damn thing as when I said you can’t control what other people do. You can’t control what happens, but you sure as hell can control how you react and right now I’m pretty freakin’ ashamed and definitely questioning my abilities as a mother.”
“I can’t handle a goddamn guilt trip right now. You were in the damn room when they said I won’t really ever get better.”
Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s what you heard? They aren’t psychic Tommy. Some people do the work and get better, some people,” she stared right at him, “don’t. If you don’t want to put in the work it will take to get better, then you aren’t the man I tried to raise you to be. The man I raised was never afraid of working for something he wanted.” She leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms.
Two seconds later, she sat back up straight. “Speaking of that, what the hell about Mina? She asks how you are doing every damn day. I imagine after that hospital visit, she thought you might call her. She’s a good girl Thomas and she’d be a good woman for you, but after what she’s been through already, she doesn’t deserve your shenanigans.”
Why did everyone have to keep bringing her up? Every waking moment he wasn’t being harassed by one of his family members, he spent thinking of her. Replaying every second he’d spent with her. Remembering the softness of her skin as he held her hand in his. The strands of gold that ran through her coffee colored hair and perfectly matched the flecks that glistened in her amber colored eyes.
“You’re right. She deserves someone who can give her everything. That’s why I’m leaving her alone.” Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
**************************************
Mina’s middle finger broke through the tip of the latex glove for the ten millionth time today.
“These things are shit Paul.” She stripped the ruined glove off, shoving it in the black heavy duty garbage bag propped against her leg.
After about the fifth time of hunting down the box for a fresh glove, she thought to stash a handful in each back pocket. Pulling one free, she snapped it on her hand and grabbed another armload of random crap off the pile looming in front of her and crammed it in the bag.
Paul came lumbering in from the kitchen, a full bag dangling from each hand. “Sorry, they didn’t have a lot of options in your size.”
He kept moving past her through the living room and out the front door. A heavy thud sounded as each bag hit the bottom of the dumpster parked in the driveway. He swung the front door back open, a swift gust of cold air sneaking in with him. “I’ll check someplace else tonight, see what I can find. Have you tried wearing two at a time?”
She snorted. “Of course I’m wearing two at a time.” She held up both her hands as evidence. “Why would I only glove one hand smart ass?”
Paul bit his lip trying to hide a smile. “Two gloves on each hand. Like double bagging your cans at the grocery store.”
“Damn it Paul.” Mina snagged two more gloves out of her pocket and wrestled them on. What in the hell was wrong with her lately? This was something she should have thought of after the first couple blow-outs. “Looks like you are officially the brains of this operation today.”
“What do you mean, today? I’m always the brains here.” He gave her a pat on the back. “You need to cut yourself some slack honey. You have been through a lot in the past few weeks. It’s gonna take some time to get back in the swing.”
She didn’t have some time. She had shit to do. She had two kids to take care of plus they were already behind schedule on Mike’s parents’ house. She closed on it the day before Thomas’ accident and should have started right away. It had to be emptied out before she could even come up with a concrete plan and here they were, almost two weeks later just now starting project hoarder.
“That doesn’t really work for me. I was hoping to get this place done before Christmas.”
“You know what they say…”
“Yeah, well.” She held up two handfuls from the pile. “Right now both my hands are full of shit.”
Paul chuckled as he shook his head. “Everything here is full of shit.” He scanned the living room Mina spent all morning and half a box of gloves on. “You’re makin’ headway though.”
“Well, I’m hoping to get at least this room empty today.”
“Want me to help you?”
Mina rolled her eyes. “Hell no. You promised if I bought this place you’d handle the kitchen and there is no way I’m going to come help you, so you do your room, and I’ll do mine.”
Mina could hear him laughing all the way to the kitchen. She grabbed another pile of papers and shoved them in, topping off the bag. She tied it off and hauled it outside, swinging it into the dumpster. She paused on the porch, enjoying the fresh air in spite of the cold.
She had looked forward to starting the house, hoping it would be a nice distraction. Instead, spending hours each day doing nothing but bagging trash was giving her ample time to think. More like obsess actually.
She just couldn’t figure out what happened.
The night in the hospital Thomas was so concerned for her, even though he was the one in the hospital covered in bandages. The way he held her hand felt so intimate, so natural.
Mina left him feeling nothing short of terrified. She spent so much time building him up in her mind and never imagined the real man would be anything l
ike the one who resided in her head. And he wasn’t.
His eyes were bluer. His hands bigger and a little rougher. His voice was deeper but softer. And the way he looked at her was like no man had ever looked at her before. It made her stomach flip and the rest of her ache.
But that was it.
Apparently she was the only one who felt the earth move because she hadn’t heard a peep from him. Not that she was expecting a declaration of undying love, she was just hoping for a phone call. Maybe dinner. Maybe finding out what those big hands could do.
Her nipples tightened underneath her sweatshirt. She took one more deep breath of chilly air, hoping to convince herself the reaction was because of the cold and not the idea of labor calloused hands rolling them between rough fingertips.
“Shit.” She picked up a loose paper and wadded it up before tossing it into the dumpster.
Obviously she needed to work on reading people. First she missed the obvious fact that her ex-husband was a sociopath and now she had clearly over-estimated Thomas’ interest in her.
As she stood shivering in the cold, wondering how she would get Thomas out of her mind, a white city pickup pulled up in front of the house.
“Son of a…” She swung open the front door and stomped in. “Paul!”
TWELVE
Mina sat on the cruddy carpet she found hiding under twenty giant garbage bagfuls of what probably started as an acre of trees. She had hoped to fly under Don’s radar until the last possible second. Lucky her, he shows up on day one just to say hi and see if she needed anything.
“Annnnyyyythiiinnng.” When he winked she thought she might puke.
It took over an hour to get rid of him, as he insisted on walking through the whole house and asking a million questions, none of which she had an answer to. “What are your plans for this room? What about that room?” She could hardly see the walls, let alone the floors. She had no freaking idea what she was going to do.
Luckily the place wasn’t that big and he ran out of things to question her about. Then he continued to hang around for fifteen long painful minutes before his phone rang and duty drug him away, but not before promising to come back soon and see how she was doing.
Run (Never Waste A Second Chance Book 1) Page 9
