Because of Audrey

by Mary Sullivan

  She wouldn’t let him eat from a tray in the living room like Audrey had. She made him sit at the table.

  It was possible....

  Cooking for himself was possible....

  * * *

  AUDREY MANAGED TO hold herself back from calling home until lunchtime.

  Wednesdays weren’t usually a hotbed of business with customers, so she used them to catch up on accounts, to place orders for depleted stock and to check out the work of artisans in Colorado who made interesting pottery or garden-themed artwork that she could sell in the shop to augment flower sales.

  Today, she was also designing her platform to hold the plants and flowers for the show. Her spot was small. If she couldn’t spread out, she would have to build up. She’d already drawn a plan she was happy with and had ordered lumber from Turner’s. Later tonight, she would raid Dad’s workshop for tools and start building in the alley behind her shop this week, weather permitting.

  Rather than defeating her, the challenge of working in so small a space fired her up, gave her creative spirit juice.

  She couldn’t wait to start.

  Overshadowing her fighting spirit was a deep regret. If only Dad could help her build the structure. It really would have been something—to have been able to have shared the creation of it with him. He would have loved helping her.

  Thinking of Dad and his restrictions, she finally gave in to the temptation to find out how Teresa was doing.

  When she phoned home, she didn’t know what to expect. World War III, maybe?

  Teresa answered the phone. “Stone residence. Teresa speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Oooh,” Audrey joked. “You sound like my dad’s personal secretary.” She’d learned in the car yesterday that Teresa had a lively sense of humor.

  She chuckled now. “I try to sound professional whenever possible. Checking in?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m impressed you waited so long. On the first day, family usually calls within the first hour, expecting fireworks, I guess. Especially when dealing with difficult clients.”

  In the distance, Audrey heard, “I can hear you talking about me, you know.”

  Teresa laughed again. “Your point being?”

  Dad mumbled something that Audrey didn’t catch.

  “We made scrambled eggs for breakfast.” Teresa’s voice, which had sounded as if her mouth was turned away from the phone, was stronger as she spoke directly to Audrey again.

  “We? Dad helped?”

  “Yes. He did very well. He said he cooked for you when you were a child.”

  “All the time. Mom died when my brother and I were young. Dad did a really good job taking care of us.”

  “That’s good because it means I don’t have to teach him how to cook from scratch, only how to do it with restrictions.”

  This might work! This just might work. Audrey’s sense of jubilation was cut short as Teresa continued, “I’m getting him out of the house this afternoon.”

  “Oh, jumping jelly beans, good luck with that.”

  “I’ll do it. I always succeed.” Rather than sounding rash or overconfident, Audrey heard a smile in Teresa’s voice.

  Good. Audrey was free to work without worry for the afternoon. Or maybe not.

  She heard Dad yell, “I’m not going out!”

  * * *

  TERESA TAUGHT HIM how to make a tuna salad sandwich for lunch. He was so proud of himself, he made a second one.

  “Tomorrow we’ll make a salad to go with the sandwich.”

  “I don’t eat salad.”

  “There are all kinds of salads out there.”

  “I’m not a rabbit. I don’t eat lettuce.”

  “Do you eat cabbage?”

  He loved it. “It’s okay. I eat it.”

  “Fine. Then we’ll make coleslaw. If you don’t want to grate or slice a head of cabbage, we can buy a bag of precut and make a homemade dressing.”

  “Nothing creamy,” he muttered. “I like it vinegary.”

  “Jeff, don’t you get it? I’m here to help you learn to do the things you like the way you like them. To make the things you want to eat. I can go online and find any recipe you want.”

  “You’ll have to use Audrey’s computer. I don’t have one.” He finished his sandwich and carried his plate and empty glass to the sink. Ornery woman probably wouldn’t do it for him.

  “Okay. I’ll ask her whether I can use it. I’ll also ask her to pick up the ingredients on her way home from work. Unless you’d rather come out with me to get them.”

  “No.” No way. Have the townspeople laugh at him while he struggled to do the things they took for granted?

  “How often do you go out?” Teresa asked.

  Jeff leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Never. I already told you I’m not going out.”

  “We’re changing that today.”

  “No.”

  “No arguments, Mr. Stone. You need to get out.” She stood up from the table and rinsed the dishes. “Tomorrow you can start to do the dishes with me, but you’ve done enough in the kitchen today. You did really well.”

  He shouldn’t be so happy with the compliment. Teresa was no one to him. Her opinion meant nothing. Nothing.

  “Audrey said you used to work out a lot.” She closed a cupboard door after putting something away. “Do you still have your membership at the gym?”

  He nodded, but tensed. She couldn’t possibly mean to take him there.

  “Good,” she said. “We’ll leave in about half an hour.”

  “No way. Don’t ask me to do this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why do you think? I’m going blind.”

  “I mean, let’s go deeper. What do you think will go wrong if you go out? That you’ll have an accident? That you’ll get hurt somehow? I won’t let that happen. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  “It’s not that.” How could she possibly understand? She was whole.

  “What is it then? Help me to comprehend.”

  “Everyone will see me,” he mumbled.

  “So?”

  “So they’ll see me make a fool of myself. They’ll laugh.”

  “Is that what the people of this town are like?”

  He couldn’t see her expression. He’d learned to listen. She sounded genuinely interested. Concerned.

  “They aren’t mean.”

  “Good, because Audrey led me to believe you’re respected in this town.”

  “I used to be. That doesn’t mean people will still respect me now.”

  “Has your basic character changed?”

  He understood where she was going with this. “No, but they always knew me as an active man. I did stuff for people. Chopped their wood. Fixed their homes if they needed help.”

  “My guess would be they wouldn’t make fun of you. That they would still treat you with as much respect as they ever did.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Face it, Jeff. We’re going to the gym. Audrey told me you fell down the stairs on Monday. We need to keep your body strong so when things like this happen, you can better withstand the impact. Let me put on some lipstick.”

  “You’re vain?”

  Teresa laughed, but it didn’t sound light and musical as it had earlier. He could swear it sounded a little sad. He’d gotten used to hearing what he couldn’t see.

  “If you saw me, you wouldn’t think so,” she said. “To put it bluntly, I’m homely. I like to wear lipstick, though. It gives me the illusion that I have something worth gussying up.”

  Jeff frowned but didn’t respond.

  “Go pack your gym bag,” Teresa said.

 
“How are we going to get there? I can’t drive.”

  “I can. Audrey said you have a pickup truck. We’ll take it.”

  “You want to drive my truck?” He couldn’t keep the dread out of his voice. It was bad enough that Audrey had to use it for her business, let alone this stranger taking it over.

  Half an hour later, Teresa led Jeff out to the driveway, steering him with a hand to his elbow.

  “I feel like a darned toddler,” he snapped. “I’m being led around like a baby.”

  “Okay, let’s try something different.” She let go of his elbow and took his hand in hers, threading her fingers through his. She had a strong hand and a warm palm. “Now we look like we’re holding hands. You’ve got some vision. Use it to see where to step. If you stumble, I have a firm grip on your hand. You won’t fall.”

  The truth was that he had a hard grip on her hand. He didn’t want to fall. He hadn’t liked that loss of control, that stomach-clenching sense of having nothing beneath his feet when he’d tumbled down the stairs.

  She got him into the truck. She started it, and he sensed her turning her head to check for cars and pedestrians, and then put her foot on the gas to back out of the driveway. The truck shot out.

  “Wow!” she whooped. “This thing’s got power.”

  “You bet.” Jeff smiled because her laugh was infectious, and bubbly like ginger ale, as if she were a bottle that had been shaken and the contents overflowed onto his hands after he’d opened it.

  He wanted to catch those bubbles in his palms and put them to his lips.

  While they drove to the gym, Jeff enumerated the truck’s features. He loved his vehicle. It had been his treat two years ago for his sixtieth birthday.

  When he paused, Teresa said, “I heard you went fishing on the weekend. Are you an avid fisherman?”

  “Used to be.”

  “You just got lucky, mister.”

  He tilted his head her way. “What do you mean?”

  “I adore fishing. I can take you out.”

  “Are you telling the truth or just trying to get me out of the house again?”

  “Both. I won’t ever lie to you, Jeff. When I say I adore fishing, I mean it. You’ve got some amazing scenery around here. I’m betting there’s stellar fishing in the lakes and rivers nearby.”

  “You bet.” Some of the gruffness had left his voice.

  * * *

  GRAY HADN’T LIFTED weights since he’d left Boston. He felt the need, especially after the morning he’d just had at the office.

  He’d relaxed on the weekend with Jeff and Dad. He’d let down his guard and had temporarily forgotten how things were at work and in his life. He’d been able to forget, until he’d gone into work.

  Now his gut was churning again, and he was popping antacids instead of chewing gum. He was counting telephone poles and footsteps and the number of times he washed his hands each hour.

  He hated it.

  On Monday and Tuesday, he’d ignored the grumbling and had supervised the cleanup after the renovations were completed, but a man could only take so much negativity from people.

  Some were smug because they knew that Dad had reinstated the benefits and, earlier, the banking of sick days, and all were angry that Gray had tried to take them away.

  Some, though, were worried. They remembered what Gray had said about layoffs. Where Turner Lumber had once been a great place to work, now there was tension, debate, a lack of confidence in the company—all of it bad for business.

  A man could deal with only so much tension at work and contain only so much guilt at home—knowing what he’d started with John Spade, what he’d had to start, with a break from his parents hanging over his head like Damocles’s sword—before he had to find an outlet.

  Rather than punch out a wall at work or slit his wrists at home, he came to the gym.

  The running wasn’t enough. If he couldn’t outrun what was bothering him, maybe he could work himself to exhaustion here.

  After paying for a month-to-month membership at the front desk of the gym, he was handed a thick towel and shown to the men’s change rooms.

  Teresa Grady leaned against the wall opposite the men’s room door and looked relieved to see him. Odd, considering that she’d met him for all of three minutes last night.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Jeff’s been in that change room for fifteen minutes. I’m worried.”

  “I’ll check on him.”

  He entered the locker room. “Jeff? It’s Gray.”

  “Here.” An angry, defiant voice came from the rear of the room.

  Gray found Jeff seated in the far corner.

  “What are you doing back here?”

  Jeff’s jaw worked. “Don’t want anyone to see me.”

  “Why not? You don’t look strange. You look normal. Like yourself.” Except so much older. And frail.

  “I have trouble doing for myself. Got myself back here and now can’t find the door.”

  “Give me a sec to get into my workout clothes and I’ll take you out to the workout room.” Gray opened a locker nearby and changed into his sweats. “What are you doing today? The treadmill?”

  “I used to lift weights, but don’t know if I can now. Blasted woman made me come here.” Gray wasn’t fooled by the anger. He heard the wistfulness that Jeff probably had no idea leaked through. Jeff wanted a normal life. He wanted to lift weights as he used to be able to do as a matter of course.

  “Today’s your lucky day, Jeff.”

  The man snorted. “Yeah? People keep telling me that.” A healthy dose of sarcasm threaded through the anger. “How so?”

  “I’m lifting weights today. We can do the circuit together.”

  “I’ll slow you down. Don’t you have to get to work?”

  “Seriously, Jeff? With Hilary running the place?”

  Jeff barked out a laugh that sounded rusty. “True. The business would be lost without her.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? The woman’s formidable. Let’s go.”

  With a light touch on Jeff’s arm, Gray directed him out the door.

  Teresa’s frown lifted when she saw them.

  “I’m going to guide Jeff through his workout,” Gray told her. “What’ll it take, Jeff? An hour?”

  “Used to be an hour and a quarter or more. I’ve lost it all, Gray. Don’t know how long it’ll take now.”

  “When was the last time you worked out?”

  “A year ago.”

  “You’d better take it easy your first time out,” Gray cautioned. “How stiff are you from that fall the other day?”

  “Pretty stiff. My hip and my left shoulder are the hot spots.”

  “Start with gentle stretches.”

  Gray turned to Teresa. “Do you want to go somewhere for a coffee for an hour?”

  “Nope. I’m lifting weights, too. The boy at the desk said I could as Jeff’s guest today.”

  Gray nodded. “Let’s go.” He lifted his eyebrow when Teresa laced her fingers through Jeff’s and led the way to the weight room.

  “I already found out where it is. I sometimes have clients who need to be lifted and can’t do much on their own,” she confessed. “I have to stay in shape.”

  Gray checked her out. She wasn’t a big woman, but looked solid in her sweats.

  When they entered the room, Gray said, “Go work out, Teresa. I’ll take care of Jeff.” He turned to him. “What did you used to do?”

  Jeff outlined his routine, and Gray said, “Okay, let’s start with free weights and then move on. Let’s modify your old routine radically. Take it real easy.”

  They ended up in the gym for well over an hour and a half, slowly deciding how much muscle tone Jeff h
ad lost and what he could reasonably do at the beginning.

  By the end of the workout, the man seemed different, more relaxed. He’d even spent twenty minutes of slow cycling on a stationary bike.

  “Let’s head back to the change room,” Gray said. “I need a shower before I go to the office.”

  Jeff followed slowly, but more confidently. Gray didn’t need to take his arm.

  “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “Maybe you should go home in your workout clothes and shower where your bathroom is familiar to you.”

  Jeff nodded. “Good idea.”

  “How often do you plan to come here?”

  “I don’t know. Teresa made me come, but now I want to lift regularly again, like I used to.”

  “I’ll plan to be here three to four times a week. Do you want to coordinate visits?”

  Jeff relaxed. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  After he got Jeff safely back to Teresa, Gray took his own shower, dressed and then drove to Turner Lumber, back to the lion’s den where he felt as if he fought for his life every day.

  When Gray entered the office, he stepped into a jungle, with the surprising delight of watching Audrey’s backside as she set a couple of plants on the floor at the top of the stairs. Gray cleared his throat.

  She straightened and turned around.

  They stared too long, and he knew he needed to get them past the budding intimacy, the understanding and shared compassion for Jeff that was forming between them, because it couldn’t last.

  With a jut of his chin toward the plants, he asked, “What is all of this and what’s it doing in my office?” There must have been a couple of dozen of them, some small, but a couple about six feet tall.

  “Hilary called and ordered them. This is all the stock I have, so if you want more, I’ll have to get them from Denver.”

  “Why did she order them?”

  She settled her hands on her hips, pleased with herself. “They’re air purifiers. Spider plants, peace lilies, English ivy, dracaena, a couple of areca palms and one stunning Boston fern.”

  Air purifiers?

  “Do you want me to arrange them?” she asked.

  “No. I can take care of that.” They wouldn’t be staying. He opened his mouth to call for Hilary, but she appeared beside his elbow, Radar O’Reilly–like in her silent efficiency.