A Soldier’s Family (13 page)

T
ime was running out. Celia could see it in Manny’s eyes at rehab. Every day he pushed himself harder than the day before.

“Airman Péna, give me twenty more. I’ll be right back.” The therapist stood from where she’d been applying resistance to Manny’s straight-leg raises. She returned moments later with a sandbag and the physician in charge of overseeing Manny’s rehab.

The physician secured the sandbag on Manny’s thigh. “Give us five.”

Manny did ten.

The physician made notes on the chart then placed ankle weights on Manny’s leg in addition to the sandbag. “Ten more?”

With a bit of sweat and stifled grunts, Manny did fifteen.

Celia’s heart sank and soared all at the same time.

The therapist and doctor exchanged a look. Then the physician sat on the padded table and pressed his hand on Manny’s ankle, offering substantial resistance. “How ’bout five more?”

“How ’bout twenty more?” Manny challenged with a determined glint in his eyes. By repetition number eight the twitch to Manny’s jaw and his wrinkled forehead told Celia extreme agony consumed him. The guy wasn’t giving up for nothing.

Please help him. He’s worked so hard and wants this so badly.
Celia bit her lip against the sting of tears.

Manny’s breathing labored. Sweat rivulets streamed down his forehead. With his kind of stamina, obviously pain rather than exertion pushed the sweat from his hairline. Even muscles near his eye twitched.

Around rep fifteen Manny’s leg quivered and a look of impending defeat came across his features. He did two more then tried for a third but his leg collapsed. So did Manny’s countenance.

Just two more. You can do it.
Celia prayed silently.

Despite intense straining, his leg barely left the table. He averted his gaze from her. Tears pricked her eyes. She pretended to study her magazine both to save his dignity and her composure. Seconds later, Manny drew in two deep, determined breaths, grit his teeth and raised his leg twice more. On the third try his leg clunked to the table.

The doctor removed his hand. “That’s enough for today.”

“No, Doc, I can do it. Just gimme a sec.” The apprehension and stubbornness closing in on Manny’s face caused Celia to abandon
Vogue
and reach for his hand. She couldn’t help it.

In one week there would be his rehab evaluation, which would determine his standing with the military.

And with the team.

Her heart shredded in that moment. To pray Manny would be able to return to duty was to pray him right out of her heart and life.

But she couldn’t be selfish. Manny wanted to be a PJ with everything in him, and his team needed him. So would the future people out there in dire need of a life-saving rescue by a bulldog-determined PJ.

The doctor stood, placing a hand on Manny’s shoulder. “Airman Péna, you’ve not failed. If you push yourself too hard, you’ll destroy the bone graft and defeat the purpose. You’ve already exceeded the goals we’ve set for you.”

Manny looked up from the floor. His countenance brightened. “I have?”

“From day one. Unless you do something goofy like ice skate into a snowplow or step out in front of a moving car, I think you have an excellent shot at getting a medical release to return to work soon.”

Soon.

The word and Manny’s whoop of victory caused more tears to spring forth in Celia’s eyes. She wiped at them madly. What was the deal? She
never
cried. Maybe her hormones were out of whack.

Manny sprang to his feet sans crutch but balanced most of his weight on his good leg. The next moment he had her pulled tight against him and was squeezing the stuffing out of her. Unshed tears glimmered in his eyes. “Soon,” he whispered in her hair.

Unable to help it, or to stop this siege of emotion, she squeezed back. Elation and relief washed from him to her in powerful gales.

But when his mouth closed over hers the next instant, her insides turned to mush. Her toes curled inside her shoes and she forgot for a moment where she even was. Taken by surprise and a blast of traitorous emotion, she gave herself fully to both the volcanic embrace and the emotional kiss.

Moments later he pulled back with a surprised look on his face, like he had no idea how that had happened. The grinning therapist sat with her head dipped, feigning interest in her clipboard, but her eyes kept darting upward. The doctor had, at some point, slipped away.

As it sank in further what just happened, and as the look of shock sharpened in Manny’s expression, Celia flung her arms out. “What? I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me!”

As though in a daze, he brushed fingers across his lip. “But…I’m pretty sure you kissed me back.”

She guessed she had. “Well, it was an emotional moment. I’m happy for you, Manny.”
Sad for myself, but happy for you.

He grasped the traction bar above her head, leaning close enough for her to catch a whiff of the sweat of a man using every ounce of his allotted strength to walk the destiny God set before him. “But?”

She refused to dampen this moment for him. She and the Good Lord would work this out later. “No buts. Let’s go home and celebrate.”

Home.
At the word, they both stopped. Everything in her heart streamed unabashed from her mouth no matter how hard she wanted to keep her feelings in check. But why’d she gone and said that? Judging by the way his brows drew in concentration, he’d heard the connotation.

Admit it. At least to yourself. You want there to be freedom from this fear. You want to make a life with him as his wife.
Celia swallowed at the thought and stepped back from him.

Why bother to explain? It would only open up a can of worms that she wasn’t ready to contend with yet.

The doctor met them at the reception desk and handed Manny papers. “Over the next couple weeks, start bearing more weight on the leg, see how you do. Progress to one crutch then to a cane. Let pain, or lack thereof, be your guide.”

Manny’s ears turned red and he avoided the doctor’s face.

Two salt-and-pepper eyebrows rose above the doctor’s glasses. When Manny didn’t say anything, the doctor eyed Celia.

“Uh, he’s already progressed to one crutch. He only uses two when he comes here,” Celia said. She didn’t want Manny to push himself so hard he ruined his chance of rejoining the team.

Manny shot her a traitorous look. “Tattletale.”

The doctor scratched his chin. “As long as he’s tolerating that, it’s probably fine.”

Celia stared at the bespectacled man. Now who was the traitor? Everyone at this rehab had helped Manny get better by leaps and bounds. But so had Celia. By challenging and pushing, and by her very presence. Celia knew her being here had made him want to work harder, even if it had been ego-driven.

The therapist released Manny and went to attend her next patient. Celia pulled her purse strap over her shoulder. She could tell by his limp that he was in severe pain and in no shape to trek store floors. How to spare his dignity? “I don’t feel up for grocery shopping today. It’s drizzling rain and yucky out. How ’bout we push it to tomorrow?”

He dipped his head, but not before she saw both relief and discouragement waltz across his features. “Sure. Tomorrow’s probably better for me, too.”

The next day Celia pushed the grocery cart behind Manny. He turned, tossed her a grin over his shoulder and pointed the end of his crutch at a package of pork chops.

She plunked them on a piece of newspaper in the bottom. “You enjoy ordering me around way too much.” Celia matched his grin, not unaware of the chaos it erupted in her stomach.

“Grab another, will ya? That big family-size one.”

She pulled a second package of meat from the freezer bin. Farther on, he aimed his elbow at a humongous roll of hamburger meat. “You can make some of your great enchilada pie with that.”

She set the ground beef beside the pork. “Think so, huh?” It thrilled Celia that Manny had been eating most meals with her and Javier.

It was no secret to anyone now about the growing attraction and feelings between them. But the question hovering like military choppers in everyone’s mind, even hers, was what to do about it. She didn’t think he had irresolvable hang-ups. Just her. Could she set fear aside and give herself fully to the idea of making a future with him?

Would her fear overpower her and make their lives miserable? Time, and Manny reserving his place in the team, would tell.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he said from near the checkout. “I’ve got rehab in a half hour and you know how they like to torture me when I’m late.”

She laughed but picked up the pace. They’d have just enough time to unload groceries and get him to his appointment.

She knew Manny had hated it the last time she’d suggested he wait in the car while she toted groceries in. So she propped the screen door open to allow him to get through. He passed with two sacks in each hand, grasping both plastic baggy handles against the crutch rungs. She fought the urge to help. The guy wouldn’t put his ego’s need to impress her above safe parameters for healing. In her heart of hearts she felt he’d be able to return to his team, which meant diving headfirst into the thick of the worst kind of danger.

And she’d be faced with what to do with the guard over her heart that his charm had worn dangerously down.

The doctor’s word filtered through her mind.

Soon.

“’L
o?” A groggy female voice answered Manny on Sunday morning. He held the phone away from his chin and chuckled.

“Wha’s funny?” A long sniff, then a rustling sounded.

Manny blinked away cozy images of Celia snuggled in a cushy warm comforter. “Did I wake you?”

“Sort of. I’m being lazy today.”

“Well, get up and get ready.”

“What?”

“I’m picking you up in fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen—you’ve lost your mind. Where are we going?”

“Not telling.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“I’m not going to put the moves on you, if that’s what you think.” Manny laughed.

Celia snorted. “Your history says otherwise.”

“Ouch. Low blow. Javier home?”

“Yeah, but he’s comatose. He was up most nights this week with a migraine. Finally took medicine last night. It barely kicked in. He’s like you, too stubborn to take anything. He hasn’t had much sleep.”

“Then I’ll let him off the hook today. Have you slept?”

“Some.”

“Then you’re still fair game. I’ll be there in twelve minutes.”

Ten minutes later Manny stood on her doorstep. Before he could knock, the door swung open.

Celia, armed with an industrial-size mascara brush in one hand and hairbrush in the other, looked him up and down. Suspicion drizzled from her eyes.

“I don’t want to take you to bed, Celia. I want to take you to church.”

Her chin dropped at his blunt words.

He cracked a smile. “Finish getting ready. We leave in three minutes.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.” He eyed his watch. “Two and a half minutes, and counting.”

“You really found Jesus,” she breathed.

He laughed and leaned against the doorjamb. “Not really. Jesus wasn’t lost. I, on the other hand…”

She started to shut the door.

He stuck his foot in the crack. “Please don’t make me go by my—”

Tears in her eyes stalled his voice. Hair brushed her shoulders in soft waves as she shook her head. “Manny, I’m sorry. I can’t go to church with you.”

“You gonna let me in, or should I stand here and freeze to death?” He shivered for good measure.

A wry look took over her face. “Ri-ight. Mr. Survive-In-Arctic-Temperatures-While-You-Pluck-People-From-Glaciers.” She stepped aside.

He stepped in.

Her eyes brightened as she stared at his hands. “You’re off crutches!”

He grinned, leaning on his cane. “I weaned myself off the twins last night. I may need one by this evening, but I figure I can go a couple hours without them today.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Sure that’s sanctioned by your doctor?”

“You were there. He said let pain be my guide.”

“This coming from the most stubborn man I’ve ever met and who refused pain meds post-op for the most major surgery I’ve ever heard of, not to mention a guy who broke every bone in his butt.”

He laughed. “One. I broke one bone there.”

She clicked her tongue. “Still, I know it had to hurt.”

Like you wouldn’t believe.
He shrugged. “It’s just a tailbone.”

“Just? Oh, brother. Do you think you deserve to relentlessly suffer, or what?”

He realized she wasn’t kidding. “What?”

“When are you going to stop punishing yourself for your son’s death?”

His insides quivered and his fists clenched. If she was trying to make him mad enough to leave so she could get out of going to church, it wasn’t going to work. “You know nothing about it.” Maybe he should loosen his teeth.

“Don’t I? Because, for the first two years I felt responsible for Joseph’s death. If God blew you in my path for no other reason than to teach you this, Manny, you have to believe me. God holds the key to life and death.”

“You saying Seth wouldn’t have lived even if we were watching him?”

“No, I am not. Truth is, I don’t know. But neither do you. I feel bad for how I came across before, and I’m trying to make amends. You don’t have to atone for your wrongdoing, Manny. Jesus already did.”

“You’ve been avoiding me this week.”

“You want to know why?”

He nodded.

“Because I’m a coward. Every time I see you, your limp, it reminds me of my husband’s death. It reminds me how vulnerable you are as a human, though in my eyes you’re superhuman. It reminds me that you could get killed in the line of duty, too.”

That made it sound as if she cared for him. Hope swelled in his chest. “Joseph died doing what he loved, Celia. Javier even told me that. If I were to die, I’d want to die saving someone else. Or in the case of my accident, training someone else to risk their lives so others may live.”

“You trying to influence my son to be a PJ?”

“Not on purpose. I want him to fulfill his God-given destiny.” He shifted his stance. “I see an inner strength in him that I don’t see in some of the strongest warriors. The military could use someone like him. He’s bilingual and intelligent, and fearless and strong. He’s loyal, athletic, focused and driven. He thinks fast on his feet, and a plethora of other things that would make a good soldier.”

“He’s also the only family I have left, Manny.” She moved close, touching his arm. Warmth spread to his shoulder. “Please, please don’t steer him to do something that will rip him from my arms and put him in the cold earth. He will always be my little boy. Even thirty years from now. I can’t stand the thought of him driving himself into the earth like a stake. I’ve read about skydiving accidents when the chutes don’t open.”

His hand closed over hers. “I can’t promise you that won’t happen. I can’t even promise you I won’t encourage him to join the military if that’s what his deepest desire is.”

Her breath caught. “Is it? Do you know that for certain?”

“Ask him.”

“If he tells me it is, then I can’t promise you will ever be allowed to see him again.” Celia jerked her hand away, brushed past him and snatched her cloak off the hook.

Manny pivoted with the cane. “Where are you going?”

“Not to church with
you,
that’s for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a client to meet. I’m working to prepay Javier’s college tuition, where he’ll train to have a
desk
job.”

Manny snickered.

She whirled.

“Even if you manage to pressure him into college, he’ll sign up for law enforcement or something of that nature, you watch. Besides, I encouraged him to go to college, too.”

“Whatever. I don’t have time for this. I can’t afford to miss work and go to church. And I certainly can’t afford to lose my son.”

“Your priorities are skewed. Plus, I think that’s a cop-out.”

Her arms did that mutant Judo chop thing. “Yeah, well, did I ask what you thought?”

Manny stood his ground. He could use the cane in self-defense if he had to, but she was going to hear him out even if he lost teeth over it. “No, but just for the record, where Javier’s concerned, you’re being stubborn and unrealistic. It’s going to do him more harm than good. More than anything, he wants a place to belong. Where he finds it is up to you.”

Manny turned and got into his truck with barely a limp, leaving Celia to wonder when he’d been cleared to drive and when he’d had his truck, shiny black like his eyes, shipped here.

“Mom.”

Celia spun. Javier stood at the top of the stairs. His jaw clenched, giving his face the hard planes of a man more than a boy. How could he be growing up so fast?

She sighed. “How much did you hear, Javier?”

“Enough. Mom, I love you and don’t want to hurt you. But you saved for college for nothing. Every penny you worked for? Keep it. I told you for years I’m not going. I hate school.”

“Javier, college is different. You get to—”

“I’m enlisting the day after I graduate high school.”

Her throat tried to close of its own volition. “Enlisting?” Surely he meant enrolling, right?

“Yes, enlisting. In the military. I’ve planned this since my freshman year, before I met Manny, so don’t even think about screeching his head off.” He looked annoyed and amused at the same time.

“Javier, do you honestly think I’m being stubborn and unrealistic?”

He covered his mouth but the snicker escaped anyway.

“What?” Celia planted her hands on her hips, trying to look serious. Kind of hard with her son’s goofy expression.

“At least I don’t take after no stranger.”

“Javier, do you use bad English just to annoy me?”

“You bet.” He bounded down the stairs, slung his arm around her shoulder and drew her near. “Come on. We’re going to pull around town, then we’re meeting Manny for a marshmallow roast after church. He needs some cheering up. The team got deployed on a mission and he didn’t get to go.”

“Oh!” Celia felt sadness and relief all in one surge.

This would be what life with Manny might be like.

Could she handle it?

“Let’s go, Javier. I love shopping and marshmallows.”

Javier’s phone rang. He looked at the number and escaped to the kitchen. As hard as she strained to hear, she couldn’t because he spoke in hushed tones. When he came back into the room, concern ruled his expression.

“Amber and Bradley are visiting her grandparents in St. Louis. So it’ll just be you and Manny after he gets out of church.” Javier eyed her.

“You mean, and you?”

Javier shrugged and averted his gaze. “I thought about going for a walk instead.”

“It’s thirty degrees out.”

“I need to drop by a friend’s. Besides, I like to walk in the cold.”

“Right. You whine if you have to walk to the bus stop a block away when it’s sixty out.”

“I’m changing.”

That he was. She sighed.

The conspiratorial look in his eyes made her leery. What did her son have up that dragon-flame sleeve of his?

That he didn’t tell her the friend’s name or the nature of the phone call that changed his plans tempted Celia to worry.

Trust him.

From where the words came, she couldn’t be sure. Manny had said them to her, but sometimes God spoke through those gentle thoughts, too. Either way, she had a choice.

“I trust you, Javier. Just be safe.”