A Soldier’s Family (5 page)

M
anny tried to ignore the sensation of heat on his back. It had nothing to do with the Saturday sun beaming through the window, making the day unusually warm for the season. But everything to do with Celia’s stare boring into him.

Relying heavily on the crutches, he wordlessly maneuvered through Joel and Amber’s dining room. Amber stood but Celia remained seated at the table, attention replastered to the project she’d been doing with Amber when he’d entered with Joel.

He hated any attractive woman having to see him hobble along like a weak man. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Celia dropped her gaze back to the rows of satchels lining the table.

He felt rude not speaking to her so he paused and scrambled for something to say. Surely, Joel and Amber sensed the tension in the air between him and Celia. He had to make an effort. Didn’t want the precedence of cold shoulders to be set since he’d be living here for a while. He was thankful to them for opening their home and refused to bring strife into it.

“Working hard or hardly working?” Manny asked Celia.

When no one else answered him, she looked up. Eyes grew wide a moment before a quirky grin lifted one side of her mouth. “Little of both.”

He wondered if she realized how pretty she looked when she smiled full-on like that. He realized when her gaze found the table again that he was staring. “Cool. Are they for your students?” He eyed the items on the table.

She dropped a tiny bottle of neon-pink nail polish and slid a bright-colored hairbrush into a sack. “No. Amber and I are making toiletry kits for the runaway shelter.”

“Ah.” Manny stood a moment, watching Celia put a travel-size container of aftershave and a comb into a blue, zippered pouch. “Nice.”

“Yep. Nice and done.” Celia pulled strings on the last open satchel and stood. She tucked a bouncy curl behind her ear and looked at Amber. “The shelter owner will be here soon to pick these up. I’ve got to run home and put a load of clothes in the dryer.” She picked up a long-handled suitcase from the chair and slung it over her shoulder, which sagged from the weight of the thing. She met Manny’s gaze for a flash. “Good to see you up and about, Airman Péna.”

Manny nodded and turned to Amber who watched the exchange with guarded interest. Manny hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by agreeing to stay here. Celia reverting to formal use of his name and title seemed a step back. She’d taken to calling him Manny on prior occasions. Last thing he wanted was to strain Amber and Celia’s friendship, or to make Joel and Amber have to be concerned over him and Celia getting along.

Celia slipped around the other side of the table and headed toward the front door.

“Talk to you later, Celia.” Amber pushed the front door closed upon Celia’s exit then approached Manny with a kind smile. “This way.”

Manny followed Amber down the hall. She flicked a switch in a large, spacious bedroom. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, causing red hues in the rich mahogany to gleam.

“Your sleeping quarters are here, Manny. Of course, we can rearrange this room any way you like, but this setup seemed more accessible.” She darted compassionate glances at Manny’s crutches. He realized then that Amber was nervous. Knowing her profound hospitality, she probably worried over his comfort.

“This is great, Amber. When Joel said you guys had an extra room for me, I had no idea he was referring to a fancy suite. I’m beyond thankful to you for this.”

A smile lit Amber’s face. “We know, Manny. And everything will work out.” She exchanged a look with Joel.

Manny got the feeling she meant more than his recovery. Especially when she eyed the huge window, open to the street where Celia could be seen shuffling home with her head down, lost in thought.

Manny turned from the window and nodded to make Amber feel better. But in truth, he wasn’t so sure. This could prove to be more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. The tension in the room when he’d walked in had been nearly suffocating.

Joel pushed the wheelchair behind them, which Manny only used when his hip could take no more after therapy.

He hated that Celia’s face had pinched as he’d first passed by. Like she couldn’t stand the sight of him. Maybe his injuries weakened him in her eyes, made him seem less of a man.

Who cared what she thought, anyway?

Unfortunately, he did.

He’d beat this. He would. He’d conquer those seventeen stairs, too. Eventually. For now, they conquered him. He’d soon learned that PT didn’t stand for Physical Therapy, but Pain and Torture.

He was improving by leaps and bounds because he’d been in top physical condition prior to the accident. That bent things in his favor, according to the doctors. Granted, these were the people responsible for his three-day-a-week sessions of Pain and Torture. Not to mention the Pain and Torture they expected him to inflict upon himself during non-in-facility PT days.

Amber mumbled something about boxing up the toiletry kits and slipped out. Joel and Bradley gave Manny a tour of the rest of the house.

“Yo!”

Manny turned to find Javier grinning from the doorway of the family room, just off the dining room. The cartoon barbell logo on Javier’s long-sleeved T-shirt reminded Manny of his offer to be a workout buddy. That would provide the accountability he needed to push himself to the max with rehab instead of sitting in front of the Montgomerys’ flat-screen TV inhaling big bowls of popcorn.

Javier stepped inside, basketball in hand. “Thought I heard your voice in here.” Javier looked from Manny to Amber. “Mom here?”

“You just missed her. She ran home,” Amber answered.

“Was she coming back?”

“In a bit.” Amber’s voice held a measure of doubt.

Full attention transferred to Manny, Javier flashed a genuine smile. “Good to see you semiwalking. You score a place to stay?”

“You could say that.” Manny grinned at Joel then Amber who helped Bradley on with his coat.

Joel chuckled. “We’re hooking Manny up. He’ll be living here for a few months. Listen, Amber and I have a routine meeting with Bradley’s oncologist to follow up on his bone-marrow transplant. We’re running late so Celia’s gonna give you a lift to rehab, Péna. Catch you guys later.” Joel waved goodbye and slipped out the door with Amber and Bradley.

No wonder Celia had looked so sour when he’d walked in. They’d roped her into giving him a ride. Well, he’d let her off the hook. The rehab had a caravan program. He’d just call them for a ride so he wouldn’t inconvenience Celia.

Javier’s grin took over his face. “Dude! Cool that you’re living here! I’m right down the street.” Javier dribbled the ball on the wood floor a few times before apparently remembering he was in someone else’s house. His face grew contrite and he snatched the ball up. He eyed the window, where Joel and Amber’s white Expedition pulled out of the garage. “Guess I forgot my manners. Mom would have a cow if she saw that.”

“Having a cow sounds painful.” Manny laughed.

The doorbell rang. Javier looked at Manny and shrugged. “Guess we should answer it, huh?”

Manny chuckled and followed Javier to the door. “Guess so.”

An elderly white-haired woman stepped in. “Amber home?”

“She just left.” Manny closed the door behind her.

Mild confusion darted across the woman’s weathered face. “I was supposed to pick something up.”

Manny eyed the table items. “Are you from the shelter, by chance?”

A ready grin lifted her cheeks. “Why I sure am, young man. Just how did you know that?”

“Good guess. I think what you’re looking for is in here.” Manny ambled to the table, hating that he couldn’t carry the box of satchels out for the woman. Chivalry was important to him. “Javier, you mind?” Manny eyed the box then the lady.

Without hesitation, Javier set his basketball down on the floor and picked up the box from the table. “Your car unlocked, lady?”

“Ma’am,” Manny corrected.

Javier grinned sheepishly and eyed her through a curtain of black, stringy hair. “Ma’am?”

“Yes.” She smiled and studied Javier above her bifocals. “You’re late Police Chief Munez’s boy.”

Javier’s smile faded, then returned slowly. “Yeah, I am.”

“Nice boy, that Joseph. I remember him at your age. He played basketball, too. Broke my favorite lamp when he was about your age, in fact.” She lifted a sweater-clad arm from stooped shoulders and pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at the bay window. “Right down there in the shelter. Only it was my home then. Hordes of kids played in the yard. It had the only basketball court around.”

Javier tucked the box under his armpit. “What was my dad doing there?”

She laughed. “Which time? He practically lived there once.” Her age-sunken eyes twinkled with spunk and humor that defied her years. Manny bet she’d turned quite a few heads in her day.

Javier leaned against the stair banister. “Really?”

“Really. It’s where he met your mom.”

“Mom?” Javier stood straighter, clutched the box tighter.

“Yes. She was one of the first runaways we took in when we opened the place. I guess I can say I knew you when you were only a twinkle in your mom and dad’s eyes.”

“I guess.” Javier stared out the huge bay window that boasted a padded burgundy seat fit for an army. To Manny, Javier looked confused. The woman didn’t seem to pick up on that.

“Javier, how ’bout a game of horse after you finish loading this nice woman’s box?” Manny distributed his weight onto his good leg and tapped the basketball with the tip of his crutch.

Javier eyed Manny’s bum leg. “You kidding me?”

“No way.” Manny grinned. “You have to use my chair, though.”

Javier laughed and headed out the door with the box. When Manny could get him alone, he’d let the kid soak in what he’d learned about his mom. Then he’d offer to lend an ear if Javier needed to talk about it. Because if he’d read Javier’s expressions right, Celia hadn’t ever told him she was a runaway.

Manny needed to talk with her about it, give her a head’s-up that Javier knew. Hopefully that would prevent a wedge from forming between her and Javier over it.

“I
think you should have told him.” Manny folded his arms across his chest and faced Celia in her front yard. He leaned on the camouflage medical scooter his team had pitched in and bought for him. When Manny had seen her leave in her car with Javier then return without him, he’d jumped on the scooter and the opportunity to talk to her about what the shelter lady had shared with Javier prior.

“I think you should mind your own business,” Celia countered, folding arms across her chest, too. For someone so short, she could glare inches off a person.

Okay, so this wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.

Manny relaxed his stance. “I’m just trying to warn you that he’s very angry.”

Her arms flew out and he actually tensed.

Since her eyes were practically rolled back in her head, she must not have noticed his flinch.

“How is it that everyone knows my son better than I do? Worse, act like they know better than me what’s best for him?” She planted firm fists on hips.

Perfectly rounded hips like he preferred. He thought all women should carry more meat on their bones than the airbrushed models on magazine covers. Why did women bother to buy those things when all they did was complain how much fatter they were than the cover models? He didn’t understand women sometimes.

Unlike most he’d met, Celia seemed comfortable in her own skin even if she wouldn’t be what Hollywood considered thin. Vertically challenged like himself, she didn’t stand much over five feet, yet her fireball nature made up for her short stature. That appealed to him. She appealed to him. Those hips especially appealed—what was he doing?

Manny ripped his gaze back up to her face. Too late. Busted. According to her caustic glare, she’d noticed his gaze had not so mindlessly lingered. It’s not as if he’d been lusting or anything. Just…noticing the curviness.

Okay, so maybe his eyes should mind their manners better. Especially since she already doubted his faith.

He struck a military pose, eyes front and centered on her nose, her whole nose and nothing but her nose. He zoomed in farther on a tiny brown spot. Cute freckle. “I’m not trying to butt in, Celia. I’m preparing you for the kind of mood he’s in over it.” He let his body posture relax, his voice even out. “I’m just letting you know he found out and how.”

She sighed and mumbled silently as though debating what to say next. He studied her freckle.

Her gaze narrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Huh?” He pulled his crutches from their holder on the scooter, stood and distributed his weight on his uninjured leg.

“You’re going like, cross-eyed or something. It’s weirding me out.”

He blinked and adjusted his gaze. “That Javier heard it from someone other than you hurt him worse than anything.” Javier had shared all that with Manny at the basketball court.

She swiped fingers down her nose. “Whadda ya mean
worse than anything?
You act like I do no good for him. You think he’d be better off living at the runaway shelter or what?” She flung her hands up and down in the air, as if directing invisible traffic through her yard. Manny choked back a laugh when she fluttered another hand down her nose. He switched his point of focus to her forehead. She swiped there next. Manny bit his lip.

Her over-the-top gestures could get comical sometimes.

Maybe all she needed was someone to hug that meanness right out of her. Manny clenched tight both crutch handles until the urge passed. “No. I didn’t say or mean that. I know you love your son, Cel.”

Hurt flashed across her features. “Don’t call me that. Not today.” She sat on her steps and scratched her cat absentmindedly behind his ears. He arched into her fingers.

Manny used his crutches to sit back on the scooter, then set them close and tilted his head. “What’s today?”

“Today is—would have been—my twentieth wedding anniversary.”

Wow, did he feel like a total jerk.

As though suddenly noticing his observation of her affection toward the cat, Celia brushed the lump of purring hair off her lap. Psych landed on his feet and skittered inside the open front door.

“Let me take you and Javier out.” The urge to hold her seized him again. He couldn’t help that he’d been raised with a family of huggers. He might possibly have the most affectionate family on the face of the earth.

Her eyebrows slanted downward. “Huh?”

“Dinner? You know, food?” Manny made motions of bringing his hand to his mouth with an invisible utensil.

She shrugged. “Can’t. Javier’s working tonight.”

Manny stood, crutches in tow. Sitting proved painful, even in the cushy seat. “Where’s he work?”

Celia eyed the scooter then Manny’s leg. “Mexican place on the corner. You need a chair?” She stood.

He didn’t get the idea she’d invite him into her home with Javier gone, and he didn’t want to put her through the trouble of dragging a chair out. “No, thanks. I’m good. How about we go eat there? You and me. Surprise him.”

She shook her curly head. “He’ll be embarrassed.”

“Nah. He might act like it, but it’ll mean a lot to him. C’mon, I’m starving. You can help me shop afterward. Though I know they’re gonna protest, I’d like to help out Joel and Amber with groceries.” He intended to buy some for her, too, then sneak them in her freezer. She’d be less likely to refuse them that way.

A pondering expression hovered in her face. “Nice of you to do that for them. So, if I say yes to dinner, you buying, hotshot?”

“Always.”

“Fine,” she surprised him by saying. “I’ll open the garage door. You can pull your wheels in since we only have one car.”

Out of respect, he waited in the garage and eyed Celia’s compact efficiency car. He hated that she’d had to give up her beloved Hummer due to its gas-guzzling tendencies. Javier had mentioned to Manny how long and hard his dad had saved for the Hummer because he’d known Celia loved them.

The door leading from the house to the garage opened and Celia’s face peeked out. “What are you doing out there? It’s cold. Get your broken bum in.” She hiked a thumb behind her.

Manny ascended her steps, and waited near the door while she breezed down a hall. Ten minutes later she emerged with an extra bounce to her curls and her step.

She passed by, giving him hefty whiffs of perfume as she grabbed her coat off the hook. He maneuvered himself aside and averted his gaze from her pretty high heels and tried to ignore that she’d put on lipstick.

It didn’t mean anything. Celia always wore the stuff.

She’d changed clothes, too. A dazzling yellow pantsuit that brought out her creamy caramel complexion.

Manny swallowed. Good grief. Wasn’t like he’d never been in the presence of a beautiful woman before.

“What’s wrong?” She stopped, her eyes growing round.

“Uh, nothing. You just, uh, you look nice.” He felt underdressed compared to her.

She brushed a dismissive hand down herself. “Ah. This old thing?” When she turned to nab her suitcase from the counter, Manny nearly swallowed his gum. A sales tag dangled from beneath her armpit.

This old thing?

Ri-ight. He grinned.

She turned that moment to peer at him. “What?”

He chuckled and dropped his gaze. “Nothing.” He laughed again, thinking of the chagrin she’d suffer when she noticed the tag. Maybe he should tell her.

“How long have you had the outfit?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. A while.”

He chuckled. This was too fun.

“I hope you’re loaded with cash because I skipped lunch today.” A slight smirk curved her mouth up, for a moment making her look like Psych the cat at half-past asleep. “You ready?”

“Ladies first.” Manny extended his arm to the door, letting her exit. He didn’t want her behind him, staring at his ineptness with stairs and crutches.

A laughed yelped out of him.

She whirled, a scowl drawing her face down. “Wha-at?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t let you go like this. Turn around.” He twirled his finger.

When she did, he reached down and yanked the long sizing sticker off the back of her slacks, taking care not to make contact with her leg. At the swish, she spun back around. Her mouth gaped at the rectangular strip he dangled in front of her. She snatched it away and crumpled it up before shaking her head at him. “Promise not to tell.”

He held a few fingers up. “Scout’s honor.” He followed her down the stairs, subduing laughter the entire way. He took extra care with the placement of the crutches. Last thing he needed was to fall on his face in front of her and give her a reason to laugh back at him.

Celia clapped her hands. “You finally mastered them!”

Manny looked up from having maneuvered from the last step to concrete. “What’s that?”

“Stairs. Javier told me to pray because you were having a tough go at it. He hadn’t requested prayer from me for anything in a very long time. He’ll be happy to hear about this.”

Heat rushed Manny’s face. Javier owed him big-time for telling. “Took me three days, but I finally conquered stairs at the rehab center. The first day, they mastered me. Second day we broke even. The third day, I mastered them. But your steps are pretty rickety. You ought to have someone fix them.”

Whoops. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. She took on a defensive posture.

“I can fix them myself.” She cast a warning look at him. Like throwing flames with her eyes.

He wanted to laugh. “Then why haven’t you?”

“It’s on the list. Give me a break.” She spun, trotted to the car and flung the passenger door open for him.

“Scat, you crazy fur ball.” Celia stomped at Psych. He flicked his tail and a bored expression at her before retreating up the stairs. “Thinks he has to ride with me everywhere. I got it.” She held the door as Manny started to prop it with his elbow.

He nearly said, “No thanks,” but changed his mind. For some reason, Celia helping him didn’t bother him that much. Weird. “Thanks. Here. Hold the twins, will ya?”

She laughed and it settled deep in his ears. “Twins?”

“The guys named them that. Said they’re my dancing partners for the next few months.” He handed her his crutches, then folded himself into the seat. He pulled his leg up using clasped hands the way his physical therapist had demonstrated.

Celia slid his crutches into the backseat on her way to the driver’s side.

He appreciated that she didn’t hover, didn’t ask how she could help, just stepped in like it was no big deal and he wasn’t a burden. She’d never know how much small gestures like that meant to him. Especially in light of his struggle with self-sufficiency and God trying to teach him it was okay to depend on others sometimes.

Once inside the vehicle, she dug through her suitcase, pulling out movie-star-big glasses. “Feeling sardine-ish?”

Manny chuckled. “Sorta.”

She flashed him a sassy look. “Speaking of fish, I have a bone to pick with you.”

He raised his brows. “Yeah? So what else is new.”

Her gaze narrowed but it pleased him to see her mouth twitch with a grin, too. “Ha. Ha. You think you’re too good to ride with me or what?”

He spread his hands out. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“So why’d you decline my offer to tote you to rehab the other evening, huh, hotshot? You’d rather ride in a public wheelchair bus than with me?” She unfolded her glasses and pulled them on.

He didn’t know what to say. Either way he answered, he was in trouble. “I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“If it were an inconvenience, I wouldn’t have offered to do it in the first place.” She gripped the steering wheel and eyed him over her glasses. He bet she had no trouble keeping her classroom in line with that look.

So she’d offered to give him a ride that first day at Joel and Amber’s? Remorse seeped into Manny for automatically assuming they’d had to coerce her into it. Maybe the hang-ups they had toward one another didn’t only originate with her.

“I’m scheduled to ride caravan the rest of the month and I scheduled my rehab in the mornings. You’ll be teaching at school. But the next couple months after that you can give me rides if you want.”

“Then what?”

“I should be released to drive soon after that.”

“I get home from school by three-thirty.”

“I’ll schedule my rehab for around four then. Kosher?”

She nodded and pressed a button on a plastic box clipped to her visor. As the garage door hummed up, she flipped down the visor. Keys fell in her lap, jangling on impact.

“You leave the keys in this baby?” Manny adjusted the back of his seat and clipped his seat belt.

“Only when I know I’m running right in and out.”

She’d been heading somewhere? That she changed her attire and her plans for him put a goofy grin on his face. “You’re not afraid someone’s gonna steal your ride?”

She snickered. “This bug of a car? I almost wish they would.”

He grew serious. “Cel, I’m sorry you had to sell the Hummer. Javier told me how much it meant to you.”

She didn’t speak for a moment. He suddenly felt bad bringing it up until she turned her face to him and removed her glasses. No trace of hostility in her expression, just a softness he’d never seen before. “The payments were killing me. I kept it as long as I did because I wanted something to haul Javier’s friends around in. I thought if I made my house the hangout place I could keep a better eye on what he’s up to and who his friends are.”

“I just hate that you lost something of great sentimental value that you loved.” Manny knew the feeling. The parachute he crashed had been his favorite, and the one he’d been given by his late ex-wife when he’d taken his PJ creed.

She glanced at Manny. “Even with money from the police force and Joseph’s life insurance, which wasn’t a huge sum, we struggle financially. It made no sense to keep a vehicle that consumed gas like my kid does food. I work extra just to keep him fed.”

“Yeah, I noticed you leave your house every night at dark.”

She clicked her tongue and gave him a parental look she often tossed at Javier. “Nosy, aren’t we?”