“Forgetting isn’t always an option,” Gena said. “Some memories stay with you all your life. That’s why I think counseling could help. If you feel uncomfortable in one-on-one treatment, maybe a support group would work for you. Talking with other soldiers who know what you’ve been through, what you’re feeling now. Some of them will be further along and have some worthwhile insights to share. It might help you sort things out and get your life back on track.”
“I am getting back on track,” David insisted. “You told me I was making progress.”
“You are. Some. But you could do better. It’s all connected, David. I’ve told you that before.” She completed the massage then put an ice pack on his leg.
David sat up and took a sip of water. “Right. But you never said how it’s all connected.”
“It’s simple. If you can get some picture of your future, you have something to work toward.” She paused and took a step back from the table and gave him a serious, appraising look. “Right now, David, I think you’re stuck. It’s not uncommon,” she added quickly. “It’s pretty normal, in fact. There are a lot of emotional stages you need to go through as you deal with this injury. Denial, anger, mourning. Acceptance, finally.”
“Great. Sounds like a long list. When do I get to the last one?”
“If you keep flip-flopping between the others, never. If you get stuck. See what I mean?” she asked quietly.
David did see. But her words made him angry. She was such a know-it-all sometimes. He should have switched to another therapist when he had the chance. He didn’t need to take this garbage from her.
“Hey, I’m doing the therapy, putting in my hours. Working out at home, too. What else am I supposed to do?” He knew he ought to control his voice and his temper, but he could feel them both rising. “Aren’t you blaming the victim a little here, Gena?”
“I’m sorry if it sounds that way. I’m not blaming you. But you asked me what else you can do? Well, what about having hope?” she said in her quiet, serious way. “That’s something that would help you move forward, David. Something to work toward, a goal. Besides getting rid of the walker,” she added. “If you had complete physical health right now, what would you want to do? What would your plan be?”
“That’s a pretty useless question, don’t you think? I may never be able to walk normally again. What good does it do to fantasize about it? My plan was to go into the police force, or be a firefighter. I’ve told you that.”
“Yes, you did. We discussed it.”
“And you said it was off the table. So I have no idea what I’d do. If I could walk out of here on my own two feet? . . . Probably buy a car and get the heck of out town.”
She leaned back and met his gaze. “Okay, that’s a start. Where do you want to go, David? What’s your destination?”
He didn’t answer her. He didn’t have an answer.
“There’s got to be something you really want,” she persisted.
I want Christine, his heart shouted back at her. That’s all I want. But that’s not going to happen. And I can’t admit it to this woman anyway.
He looked straight at Gena then down at his lap again.
“I think there is an answer,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to tell me. But use it, David. Build on it.”
She checked the pack on his leg. “I’m going to get you some more ice.” He nodded, not even looking at her. She stepped away and closed the curtain, shutting out the view of the therapy center.
Gena was right. He had to admit it. He had been living in limbo. It was hard to look ahead. He couldn’t do it.
He suddenly missed the army, where everything was spelled out for him. All he had to do was follow orders. He had thought it was tough at the time, but it was tougher in the real world where he had to sort out this mess—what to do with his life now that he was handicapped. What was the answer? He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.
What he told Gena was true. If he were fit and strong again, he would get a car and drive away. That’s what he did the last time, right after he graduated high school. He just ran away.
There seemed little chance of pulling that stunt again, not in his present condition. Which left him exactly nowhere.
EMILY ARRIVED AT HER MOTHER’S HOUSE AT THE SAME TIME AS THE blue and white police car. She was relieved to see Tucker Tulley jump out and run to the front door.
Emily got out of her Jeep quickly but hardly with the same sense of urgency. She had a strong sense that this latest emergency on Providence Street was just another in the growing list of false alarms. She almost didn’t want to know what was going on.
The door flew open before Tucker was halfway up the path. Her mother stood in the doorway, wild-eyed, still wearing her nightgown and robe, though it was well past ten on a Tuesday morning.
“Mrs. Warwick, is everything all right here?” Tucker asked. “Your burglar alarm went off. We got the signal down at the station.”
“Everything is not all right,” Lillian huffed at him. She suddenly stepped back as another woman literally marched through the doorway, her shoulders hunched like a football player determined to make his way through the defensive line.
Tucker jumped back. “Whoa there, not so fast. Can I have your name please, ma’am?”
Though Emily had never met her, she could guess the woman’s name. She cringed at what would come next.
“For goodness’ sake, let her go,” Lillian ranted from the doorway. “Let her go and let’s be done with it. She’s learned her lesson.”
The woman turned to face Tucker. “I’m Catherine Hatcher. I work for Mrs. Warwick. That is, I was supposed to start work this morning, but instead I’m quitting.” Catherine Hatcher fixed Emily with a furious look. “Your mother needs medication. You ought to look into it.”
Emily knew the former nurse did not mean more blood-pressure pills. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she said.
“No problem. I’ll have a new job tomorrow. She’ll still be mad as a loon.”
Lillian’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Do you see how she speaks to me? Is that the kind of person that’s sent here to care for me?”
“But you have no complaint against Ms. Hatcher?” Tucker was still trying to sort it out. “No reason for me to hold her here?”
“No reason,” Lillian said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“All right then, you can go,” Tucker told her. “Sorry for any confusion.”
“So am I,” Catherine Hatcher snapped as she trotted past Tucker and Emily.
Emily stepped up to the porch to join Tucker at the front door. “Mother, how did this happen? Why did the alarm go off ?”
“I fired that woman yesterday. I’m absolutely positive she returned her key. See, I have it right in my hand.” Lillian produced a key from her bath-robe pocket. “But she must have made a copy. She opened the door, walked right in here. She must have thought the house was empty—or was trying to sneak up on me in my sleep, knock me over the head, and make off with my valuables.”
Tucker looked concerned. He glanced at Emily who sighed heavily. “Mother, I know you fired the helper who came yesterday, on Monday. That was Nancy Cunningham. This was a new person. I told you last night, someone was coming and they have the key. I was going to drop by later to meet her. Don’t you remember?”
“I never heard any such message. Are you sure you dialed the right number?” Lillian asked. “I know how busy you are. Perhaps you thought you called but forgot.”
Emily suddenly got it. At first, she had been alarmed by what seemed to be her mother’s confusion. But now she could plainly see that it was all pretense. Lillian hadn’t been caught unawares by a new companion coming into the house; she simply manufactured an excuse to get rid of her newest aide. Score another point for Lillian.
“Mother, you know very well that was an entirely different person,” Emily said, determined not to let her get away with it.
“Are you
sure?” Lillian managed an innocent expression. “She looks just like the other one to me.”
“And this looks like a setup to me,” Emily replied. “You purposely did this to get rid of her. Admit it. I had to beg the agency to give us one more try. I’m running out of options here, Mother.”
“So, the alarm went off by accident?” Tucker asked. “You don’t need me to check the premises?”
Lillian favored him with an aristocratic wave of her hand. “Go ahead, by all means. Do your duty, Officer Tulley. There may be several of these home companions lurking around—in the bushes, in the basement, in the attic. They seem to be multiplying, coming out of the woodwork. . . .”
Before Emily could argue, she noticed a cab pulling up to the curb. The door opened and Dr. Elliot came out. He stared up at the group on the porch then marched toward them with an impressively quick gait.
“What is going on here? Why am I finding emergency vehicles parked at your door every time I come to visit?” he asked Lillian. “Is this a cry for help, as they say on the talk shows?”
“A cry for help, my foot. Your brain is turning to mush from too much daytime TV, Ezra,” Lillian shot back.
He hopped up the steps to the porch and faced her. “My brain? Do you plan on attending the luncheon at the museum in your dressing gown? As a doctor, I would have to consider that lapse a clear symptom of brain mush.”
Emily saw her mother shocked into silence. Lillian gazed down at herself and gripped the lapels of her robe around her neck.
Emily remembered that her mother did have a plan to go out with Ezra today. But she must have gotten sidetracked by her scheme to derail the new home aide.
“You’d better get dressed, Mother. It’s getting late,” Emily said mildly.
Lillian retreated into the house, muttering, “I hope that woman did not walk off with my diamond earrings.”
“I sincerely doubt it,” Emily said. She turned to Tucker. “Sorry you were called out here for nothing.”
“Not a problem, Mayor. I’m happy to help when I can.” Tucker smiled at her as he turned to go, his face shaded by his cap.
“I’ll stay and wait for her with you,” Emily said to Ezra.
“I’m sure you have more important things to do today than molly-coddle your mother. Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of her. I’ll make her toe the line.”
Emily had to smile at that last promise. “Thank you, Ezra. If anyone can do it, you can. Tell her I’ll call her tonight.”
Emily headed for her car. Once again, Dr. Elliot was a lifesaver. She was greatly relieved he was keeping her mother company today. She was also relieved there had been no time for another long debate about the situation. She knew she had been close to losing her temper.
It was becoming very clear, very quickly. This routine couldn’t go on much longer. Her mother was making a choice, whether she intended to, or not.
SNOW THAT HAD BEGUN AT NOON ON WEDNESDAY WAS FALLING HEAVILY by the time Jack picked up David after his physical therapy.
“There won’t be any tree shopping tonight,” Jack predicted as the truck’s wipers worked hard to whisk off the falling flakes. The traffic on the highway was backed up, and the truck crawled along at a pace David found painfully slow. “Julie thought we should just close the stand and put up our own tree tonight.”
“What’s the rush?” David teased him. “Christmas isn’t until next Friday.”
Jack glanced at him and laughed. “I always leave it for the last minute, don’t I? Sort of ironic, right?”
“Very ironic. But it’s a family tradition by now. It wouldn’t seem right if we did it any earlier.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Jack agreed.
They soon entered the house to find the living room full of cardboard cartons. Kate was running from box to box, lifting the lids and pulling out Christmas decorations. She looked like a little Christmas elf, David thought.
“Look, I found my stocking!” she greeted them. She held it up and waved it around like a flag, a long red flannel stocking trimmed with white fur on top and her name spelled out in silky green letters. David guessed that Julie had made it for her.
“I’m going to hang it on the fireplace,” she told David.
“Good idea. Hang it right in the middle where Santa can see it,” David told her.
He doubted she could reach the mantel, and his automatic response was to follow and help her. But it was tough to maneuver around the boxes with his walker. He didn’t want to fall and break the ornaments and decorations. He stared down as he angled the metal legs, making slow progress from the door.
“David, let me move some of this stuff. I’m sorry we left it all over the place.” Christine appeared in the passageway that led to the kitchen then rushed over to clear a path for him, pulling boxes aside.
What was she still doing here? Didn’t she have a family and a Christmas tree at home to decorate? For crying out loud, he hoped she wasn’t going to stay.
And he hoped she would. Being around her was both wonderful and pure torture. Ever since last Friday, when he cooked dinner for her and Kate, he had pretty much stayed out of Christine’s way. She was outdoors a lot at the stand when she worked, so that helped.
“Thanks,” David mumbled, silently cursing the walker and his need for it. He was almost able to support himself on a cane but right after his therapy session, his leg muscles were too tired, his hip too achy.
While Christine pushed the boxes aside, David made his way to the couch and flopped down in a spot near the tree. Jack and Julie had selected a tall, full pine. They had set it in the stand and already put most of the lights on.
“Pretty tree,” David remarked. “It has a good shape.”
“It’s a nice one. But your folks do have their choice,” Christine added with a grin.
“No excuses for a scrawny tree here, that’s for sure.”
She walked over to the tree and continued working with the strand of lights. David immediately felt antsy just sitting there, watching her. He forced himself to get up and maneuvered the walker close to the tree.
“Here, let me help. I can get the top,” he said.
She stepped back, looking at him, about to object, he was sure, and make him feel like a useless idiot. Then she quickly nodded and handed him the strand of lights. “Good idea. I can’t reach up there. Go for it.”
David took the lights without looking at her. It wasn’t easy to string them up on the highest branches, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. Not if he could help it. He tried reaching with one hand but found he needed both and finally had to keep his balance without holding the walker. He was doing all right at first. Then reached too far, and for one horrible moment, felt himself pitching forward, about to fall right into the tree.
Christine leaned over and quickly grabbed him at the waist, holding him steady. Not really a hug but close enough to make his heart start racing.
He leaned back against her for one heavenly moment. “Whoa, close call. I almost took the whole thing down.”
“Almost doesn’t count,” she said quietly.
She stood there for a moment, close to him. He felt her warm breath against his neck. Then he felt her hands drop away, and she turned to untangle the rest of the lights.
David braced himself on the walker with two hands, not sure of what to say, whether he should say anything at all. Julie, Jack, and Kate came into the room then.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” Jack clapped his hands and happily rubbed them together. “I picked out the absolutely, very best tree on the lot for you guys. I want to see it decked out to perfection.”
“Can I put the angel on top?” Kate asked.
“Of course you can. That’s your job, Peanut.” Jack lifted her up in his arms easily. “But we have to put everything else on first. The angel’s the very last thing, the finishing touch.”
“I can do the other ones, too.” She squirmed in his arms, and he
let her down.
Julie took the ornaments out, unwrapped the tissue that surrounded them, and put the hooks on top. Then she placed them on the coffee table, and everyone crowded around, picking out their favorites.
“I’m doing the dog and Elmo,” Kate announced, snatching her choices off the table.
“I’ve got the Nutcracker and Larry Bird,” Jack said. “Hey, David, here’s one of yours, the Red Sox World Series ball.”
David gazed at the Christmas ball, shaped like a baseball with the Red Sox logo and the date of their amazing World Series win, October 2004. Only the second time in an entire century his beloved team had clinched the series, the year they finally broke the Curse of the Bambino. His mom was dying, and he and Jack were arguing, but he had been going out with Christine then, the one thing that had been right in his life.
“Well, I’d better get going,” Christine said suddenly. She stepped back from the family grouped around the tree, heading toward the kitchen.
Julie looked up and turned to her. She was still at the coffee table, fixing ornaments for Kate to hang up.
“You’re welcome to stay, Christine. It’s awful out there. Why don’t you help us do the tree and stay for dinner?”
“Yeah, Christine, come on. We have about a million Christmas balls to hang, and I don’t like the idea of you driving around in this snow. It should stop in an hour or so. What the rush?” Jack asked.
David didn’t like the idea of her driving off in the snow either. Even though she didn’t live very far away, she had a small car, and he knew the driving was difficult right now. If he were his old self, he would have jumped up and offered to drive her. But he couldn’t do that now, of course, which made him feel weak. He wondered if that was how she thought of him.
He watched to see her reaction. She seemed undecided—until Kate ran over and wrapped her arms around Christine’s long legs. “Please don’t go. We need you,” she said, in her dramatic little girl way.
That did it, of course. Christine was persuaded, and David didn’t know if that made him feel happy or distressed.
A Wish for Christmas Page 18
