Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(30)

“Jack said in another few days you’ll get used to the pain drugs and be more lucid.”

He almost smiled. His Lizzie didn’t use words like lucid and understand the meaning. “Right,” he said. He pulled on her hand. “Now, come on, give me a nice little kiss goodbye, be strong for me, and we’ll catch up later, when I’m settled in rehab. Huh?”

She leaned toward him and gave him another kiss, another kiss like she might’ve given her brother if she had one.

“At least I know you’re safe now,” she whispered. “I’ll still miss you, while you’re in rehab.”

“I miss you already,” he whispered back, not wanting to, not meaning to. “Now go on. Don’t drag this out. It’s too hard.”

He turned and watched her go, seeing Jack standing in the doorway, glowering. Oh, he’d pissed off the big man. Too f**king bad, he thought. Maybe everyone would have been better off if he hadn’t made it. He brought bad karma.

He turned back to the wall and struggled with self-pity. Just thinking about those phone calls he used to have with Liz, back when they were younger and talked every night, was enough to make him cry like a baby. He couldn’t believe the level of self-loathing he felt, that he brought so much pain on people. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t see the end of his own pain. The empty space where there was supposed to be a leg and foot hurt like hell. He couldn’t imagine how that was possible, but the doctor explained something about neurons still delivering the message to his brain that his missing limb hurt. The stupid neurons didn’t know his leg ended above the knee.

He heard the sound of one of his roommates, a thirty-five-year-old guy he knew only as Stu, using the trapeze over his bed to heft himself out and transfer to his wheelchair. Then he heard the squeaking of the wheels and hoped Stu was going for a ride down the hall.

But no. Stu wheeled himself in front of Rick. Stu wasn’t sent out of Landstuhl because he’d been stationed here when he had an accident that caused a spinal cord injury. Stu had his legs, but he wasn’t going to be using them.

“Interesting,” Stu said, looking up at him. “Beautiful girl, adores you, and you shut her down. You have a brain tumor?”

“Maybe,” Rick said, looking away. “That’s one thing I haven’t had yet.”

“I know the leg hurts, but your lips don’t.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“This is a little town here, this ward. It’s impossible to mind your own business. And you’re FUBAR, man.”

“Well, we knew that,” Rick said, smiling meanly. “No reason for me to f**k her up, too.”

“From what I heard, just minding my own business in this little town of ours, you already f**ked her up, and now you’re cutting her loose. We need to get you a new MRI on your head—you definitely have a brain tumor.”

“Leave it alone.”

“Maybe you don’t get this yet, but people care about you. They come running all the way from the States when you’re hurt. And you’re going to walk back into that homeplace of yours, looking just like you looked before you left until you take your pants off. Everything’s going to work just fine. But you’re too lame to see that right now. You working on pissing everyone off till they hate you? You could just be happy you have this much going for you. How about that?”

Rick glared at him. “No, Stu. I can’t just be happy.”

Five

Jack thought about sending Liz home and staying around Frankfurt until he could see that Rick was on his way to San Diego, but in the end he decided to go with Liz and let Rick have the space he was asking for. He didn’t think Rick was being logical or smart, but stubborn went a long way. Rick verged on irrational, and yet, as Jack was beginning to understand, this behavior was not out of the ordinary for a young man in his situation. After all, he was hurting all over, physically.

So he said to Rick, “You’re leaving in the morning and I’m going back tonight. I’ll get in touch by phone and once you’ve had a decent start on your PT, I’ll come down and visit. Just a real quick visit—you don’t have to put out the china or anything. I just want to check in.”

“You don’t have to,” Rick said. “I can just let you know how I’m getting along.”

“This might be more for me than you,” Jack said. “And if you need anything, even just someone to talk to, call. If you need me, I can come. Got that?”

“Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”

Jack put a hand around the kid’s neck and pulled him briefly against his chest, holding him close for a second. Even like that, Rick was so far away. He didn’t hug back. He put one hand on Jack’s arm and that was it. For a brief and terrible moment, Jack wished Rick would fall apart, take his comfort.

When Rick and Liz’s baby was born dead a couple of years ago, Rick had needed Jack’s and Preacher’s strength to keep him on his feet, to keep him from crumbling. He’d needed the men he’d grown to think of as fathers to bolster him so he could keep Liz from losing it. They’d spent hours talking, supporting, soothing, lending the strength of their experiences.

Right now Rick didn’t want anything from anyone, and for Jack this was horrible. It was like being rejected as a father figure.