by Joanna Blake
My entire left thigh was bandaged, with blood staining the white gauze. I frowned. I could wiggle my toes, sure, but could I walk?
There were some stitches on my abdomen and other leg. I saw some on my arm too. I reached up and rubbed my face, wondering if I was still good-looking. Everything was where it should be, more or less. I guessed I was pretty damn lucky after all.
I leaned back. I would need to wait for the doc to inform me what the situation was. After I learned about my men. I tried to remember who had been on deck with me but it was all a blur. Davis? Cain? Donnelly?
I looked around. My IV drip was only fluids, no antibiotics or morphine. So I must be in the healing phase and out of danger. I rubbed my head and winced. I must have gotten a concussion on top of everything else.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep before I got a chance to talk to the doctor.
Tabby
"Get up here... dammit!"
I fell backwards as the cat slipped out of my hands. I was trying to trim her claws. She'd been destroying what was left of the already crappy furniture I had. I'd already sold off the few pieces worth anything.
And I needed to at least have a yard sale with what was left.
If the damn cat didn’t destroy it all, that might be possible.
"You are lucky I'm sentimental or you would find yourself out on your fuzzy little tush.”
I rubbed my bottom, glaring at the fleabag. Petunia was on top of the credenza, hissing at me. The credenza being one of the things I hoped to sell off when I vacated this godforsaken town.
My Grandmother's taste had not been all that stylish, but she did have some nice mid-century pieces I'd unloaded online. Now I was working my way through her collection of records and figurines. She'd been a collector, but not quite a hoarder thank goodness.
The cat hissed at me again and I rolled my eyes. Sure, we argued, but the moment I sat down there would be a truce. The cat was prickly as hell, but if you held still for five minutes, she would curl up with you and start purring.
It was an uneasy alliance, but all we had was each other.
The cat had loved Gran as much as I had. I figured we were both mourning her in our own way. The cat, by being a righteous pain in my ass. Literally.
I stood up and dusted myself off. I had only a couple more months to finish cleaning this place out. There was nothing left for me here. Gran didn't own the house, and I wasn't paying rent for a place I didn't want to live.
The lease renewed right after Christmas.
So this was it. The end of an era, more of less. Clean the place up, get what I could for the knickknacks, pick a few things to take with me for the memories.
I looked at the cat and sighed.
Take with us.
And then we were on to greener pastures. I'd finish nursing school and get a life. A good life. In a city where no one knew me, or had any opinion of my character, or lack thereof.
Speaking of which...
It was almost time for my shift at Garrity's.
I closed my eyes, wishing for the hundredth time my uniform was a potato sack. Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it. I hopped in the shower and changed into the black skinny jeans and tight white t-shirt they had us wear. I tried to buy a size up to hide the size of my chest, but the neckline drooped. There was nothing I could do about it.
People were gonna stare. And say things. Like they always had.
I pulled my dark hair into a high ponytail, fed the cat, and headed out to work.
Gabe
I stared out of the window of the medical transport vehicle. It was an ordinary van for the most part, only tricked out with all kinds of fancy-ass equipment for carrying military personnel like me.
Mobility impaired personnel.
I refused to say handicapped, though that's what I was. My thigh muscles had been completely severed, along with some tendons and ligaments. They'd sewn me up but it a was touch and go situation.
The doctors weren't sure I would heal enough to walk normally again, but I was determined to do just that. This wasn't permanent. It wasn't.
I exhaled as the streets outside started to look familiar.
I was going back to the one place I never thought I would, other than for Christmas and Thanksgiving. The place I'd sworn to never get stuck in.
I was going home.
I hadn't seen my mom in over a year, since before I shipped out. I had most of my stuff in storage, like usual. I think it got shipped back here but I didn't know for sure.
And now I was here to recuperate. If I could. If not, well, I was going to find a high-rise condo with elevators and shit. Someplace warmer than Massachusettes.
All I knew was I wasn't staying here long.
And I sure as shit wasn't moving in with my mom for good.
No matter how much I loved her, I was a grown-ass man. This was temporary. She was welcome to move down the coast when I did to be closer. But for now, I knew I should be grateful to have family to take care of me.
The van pulled down our street and stopped in front of a tidy split-level house. My mom was standing out front. Even though I wasn't glad to be here, especially under the circumstances, I was always happy as hell to see her.
My mother was an amazing woman.
I wasn't surprised to see that her eyes were dry. I had a feeling my mom was the only lady whose son got delivered in one of these trucks who didn't shed a tear. She might cry later, and I'm sure she did when she heard I got injured, but now- dry as a bone.
My mother was a certified badass. She never showed her cards or lost her cool. She'd raised me to do the same.
And damn if I didn't love the heck out of her for it.
My dad had split when I was just a kid. But my mom didn't roll over and play dead. She worked her ass off and kept a roof over our head. She came from an upper middle-class family but she didn't get help from her daddy to raise me. She just buckled down and got her real estate license. Then she hauled ass.
And she still belonged to the PTA, a knitting circle, the lady’s golf team at the local country club, even the town beautification committee.
Yeah, if you ever wanted to see a badass in a pink cardigan and pearls, look no further.
She kissed my cheek as they rolled me down the path, then directed them around back. I hadn't given much thought about where I would be staying, but this was kind of perfect. The lower level den and bedroom had been my chill out spot in high school. It had a walk-out patio and a path to the street that was wide enough for the wheelchair.
It even had a huge-ass shower and a small infrared sauna room, something my mom splurged on when her arthritis had kicked in a couple of years ago.
I looked around the place. Yeah, it was stuck in the 90’s but it was still kind of cool. Mom had good taste, so even though it was dated, it wasn't too much. A comfy leather sectional and lazy boy sat over a patterned rug. The bar in one corner had matching brown leather stools.
I realized that the ottomans were all gone, and there were no stacks of magazines or firewood. She must have moved out anything that would be hard to wheel around.
The wood panelling was left over from the 1960’s, way before my parents had even met. It was pretty much wall-to-wall brown, though it looked like she'd gotten a bunch of potted plants. I nodded appreciatively. It was a haven for me and my friends when we were younger.
And now, it was home.
My mom didn't hover over me, thankfully, though I did notice a pitcher of lemonade and a glass on the table. I smiled, shaking my head. It wasn't even hot out. But I did love my mother's lemonade.
One thing I would not miss about the service was the chow.
I wheeled down the hallway and looked around.
The bed was turned down and there were clean, fluffy towels at the foot of the bed too. Not that I could shower without help.
Not yet, anyway.
"Do you want visitors? Lyle's been stopping by."
I snorted. M
y best friend from high school had never left town, though he had visited me on base a couple of times. Even when I was stationed in Japan.
"I bet he has."
She shook her head.
"That boy has always looked up to you."
"I know. I'm sure I'll see him soon."
She nodded and I noticed she was clasping her hands together tightly.
"Dinner's at seven. I have someone coming here starting tomorrow to help out when I'm at work. An aid."
I thanked her and told her she didn't have to do that. She said she needed the help and that the military was paying for home assistance anyway. I knew she meant that I needed the help, but she spared my pride and didn’t mention it.
I had a doctor appointment and my first physical therapy session in two weeks. Until then, it was just rest and recoperation.
"Thanks mom."
She handed me a bell and I looked at her, a question in my eyes.
"If you need me, just ring."
Tabby
I poured shower gel into the clean bathroom sink, using it to wash my bra and t-shirt. I didn't have time to do a full load of laundry and my work clothes all smelled like beer, even my underthings. The warm vanilla scent of my shower gel was better than dish soap for covering it up.
Plus, that's all I had on hand.
Use what you got, Grannie always said.
I smiled and shook my head. She always gave me the side eye when I called her Grannie. I only did it to tease her though.
She didn't really mind it so much anyway.
I sighed and rinsed my clothes, hanging them in the shower. I had a handful of bras and only two white t-shirts for work. If I ruined one, I was in trouble. I needed every penny to get the hell out of Dodge.
Thankfully, I'd finally gotten a call from the agency about daytime work.
Starting tomorrow, I was going to be a home caregiver.
I dried my hands and stared into the mirror, looking for answers. I made a face at my reflection. It was a nice enough face. Kind of plain, other than my eyes. And my lips, apparently.
I'd heard some guys call them blowjob lips, which made me pinch them flat as I could whenever I remembered. It had made me nauseous to realize what they were implying.
This town was full of small-minded perverts. I'd learned that when I got out and went to school. The comments had still been there, and the stares, but it was down to a minimum. Then Grannie got sick and I'd had to drop out and come home to take care of her.
Now she was gone and I was stuck here.
But it was almost over. I wasn't going to be Shabby Tabby much longer. I could go somewhere else. Be someone new.
Not the girl with second hand clothes and the body of a thirty-year-old woman at fifteen. Not the girl all the boys whispered about. And lied about. And grabbed at.
Grabbed without asking.
Well, that wasn't completely true. There was one who had asked. And I'd said no. Of course, it had to be the one guy I'd had a crush on forever. If he had asked me any other time, or if he'd been a little less obvious about what he was after... I might have said yes.
That was a lie. Any of my few friends could have told you I would have jumped at the chance to go out with Gabriel Jackson. He was pretty much perfect.
He was the most popular guy in school, but it was more than that.
He was gorgeous, of course, with dark hair and green gray eyes. Big and strong and agile. He’d been the best athlete the town had seen in a decade. And one of the few guys around who did not act like a total pig.
He'd even asked me out that one time. He'd been kind of sweet about it too. But I knew he just wanted to bang. Little did he know, he was casually asking for my V card.
I shook my head. That was a long time ago. Even if I'd changed my mind fifty times over the next few months, or even that summer after senior year, he was long gone. He'd done what I wanted to. Left town and never looked back.
And I was still stuck holding my damn V card.
I made myself a cup of chamomile tea and curled up on the couch with the mangy old cat.
Gabe
"God dammit!"
I cursed as I tried to reach my toothbrush, only managing to knock it further away. Everything was out of reach from the chair. I stood on my good leg and grabbed the toothbrush, sitting back into the chair with a thud.
I brushed my teeth angrily, annoyed by the complexity of doing even the simplest of things. I rinsed and spat and then carefully stood and put my toothbrush back where it belonged. I scowled in the mirror before plopping back down again.
Stupid. This was so stupid. I knew there were worse things. It was not worth getting upset about.
But every damn thing was harder to do.
Just putting my pants on without hurting my injured leg required me to lay on my side. I knew the wound was healing and it would get easier. But it was frustrating as hell.
Especially since this was one thing I couldn't use my strength to solve. For this, I needed patience.
I shook my head. I'd figure out a way to make do. And I would find a way to walk again.
Until then, I was mounting a shelf in the bathroom. And bars so I could lift myself using my upper body strength. And getting a damn seat for the shower.
I would not be a whiney-ass victim dammit.
I growled as I knocked the bar of soap into the toilet.
Well, maybe I would whine a little.
I combed my hair without looking and wheeled back into the bedroom to finish getting dressed. My luggage was on a rack by the window and I could easily access it from where I was. My mother had unpacked my dress clothes but I'd shooed her off when she tried to take care of the rest.
Stack by stack I unloaded it. I put a pile on my lap and wheeled over to the dresser and back again. I did it about twenty times until my all shit was stowed. Then I zipped up the suitcase and slung it down, pushing it under the bed. It wasn't the most graceful maneuver but hell, it got the job done.
Mom had brought down a coffee machine earlier that morning and it was already percolating. She'd also left me a plate of eggs and fruit. I grumbled a bit about the lack of bacon, but I had a feeling mom was not going to budge on a healthy diet. She'd already given me an earful last night over dinner.
I wolfed down the eggs and coffee and realized I didn't have to rush for once in my life. In fact, I didn't have one damn thing to do with myself. I looked around. There was plenty of stuff I could fix in here. Things to help mom out the way I did every time I came home for a holiday.
I could paint the place. Repair the side table that was leaning to one side. The back patio had some bricks coming up from the soft, loamy ground we had out here. But none of that was happening while I was in the chair.
I rolled my shoulders and decided to get to work on the one thing I could control at the moment.
My recovery.
If I kept the rest of my body in good working order, then maybe my leg would heal faster. Or at least I would not go out of my freaking mind.
I eyed the sofa and the edge of the fireplace. Deciding the fireplace was more manly, I scooted my body from the chair onto the lip and started doing dips. I eased down onto my knees and turned around to do push ups on the floor, keeping the weight off my bad leg.
I was pretty sure the physical therapy folks would frown on this, seeing as my stitches were barely out, but damned if I was going to go soft. I did two sets of fifty, alternating dips and pushups. I was just finishing up the second set when I heard footsteps on the stairs.
I counted out the last few reps and turned over, sitting on the floor with my back against the fireplace. There, if I could do that a few times a day, plus crunches, I would not be getting soft. I just had to watch my injury and go slow.
At least it was something.
I wiped the back of my wrist over my forehead as mom came down with my new aid. I froze with my hand still over my forehead and stared. I could hardly believe my eyes.
Dark hair, big hazel eyes and curves that wouldn't quit. A beautiful mirage from my teenage fantasies. The girl who had haunted my dreams all those years ago.
My new aid had just walked into the room, looking just as shocked as I did.
And a damn sight less happy.
I was grinning ear to ear, but she sure wasn't.
A gorgeous brunette stood in front of me, tight jeans casing long, impossibly curvy legs. And good lord, that was just her legs. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail that made her look like a schoolgirl. She was wearing a plain button down shirt that did little to disguise her ridiculously sexy body. There was no mistaking the Jessica Rabbit proportions of the girl who'd driven me crazy throughout all of high school.
Fuck it. Junior high too.
Tabitha fucking Peterson.
This was amazing. Awesome. Fantastic.
And a total fucking disaster.
This girl- scratch that- this woman- had done more than haunt my horny teenage dreams. I'd still thought of her over the years. Searched for her now and then online with no luck. I only had my memories and a few pictures in the yearbook to remember her by.
She looked even better now, if that was even possible.
So yeah, I was glad to see her. More than glad. I felt like an old house that had the power turned back on. A busted car with a new battery.
But my pride was rearing its ugly head.
Tabitha was the last damn person I wanted seeing me like this. I wanted to screw her brains out, not have her wipe my ass. Not that it had come to that but- well, fuck it. It was the principle of the matter.
I frowned. She looked even less psyched than I did. That surprised me. Everybody else was acting like I was a war hero, even if the accident had been a equipment malfunction. She didn't know that. Hell, I'd just found out the barest details myself.
