"I would love to have you accompany me." Charity gave her a hopeful look. "You know how nervous I get about flying by myself." Then her face fell. "But I know you have work."
When Grace's coworkers heard what happened to Damon, they graciously traded shifts with her so she could go to Maryland with Charity last week, making it so she worked three days and had four days off. No one knew Damon had dumped her so she could keep the same schedule. She could afford the cut in pay for a while.
Faith was the only one she'd told about Damon dumping her. Not even Gabe and Paige knew.
"Let me see what I can do." Grace smiled at Charity.
She could study as easily at Fischer House as she could here. As long as Gabe and Paige were willing to continue to take care of Lily.
With a pleading expression, she turned to Faith, the most talkative person in all of the Young, Winters and Knight families combined. "Please don't tell anyone in the family Damon dumped me. I don't want them to hold it against him. Not when he needs their support so badly."
Nor do I want their pitying looks.
"That's very noble of you." Faith's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Fine, I'll keep it to myself."
Grace wasn't sure Faith actually could, but she'd cross her fingers and hope for the best.
Charity clapped her hands. "Great. I'll plan on making the meals for the next three or four days, until I fly out again, but I may still need you ladies to help me deliver them all. Faith, when you're doing it on your own, I'm sure my daughters-in-law or yours will be more than happy to help deliver the food." Charity turned toward the kitchen. "Now let me round up the recipes you'll need."
Grace followed, wondering how she could continue to show up for Damon without making him push her further away.
CHAPTER 26
"Ican't get over how much better you look now than you did two weeks ago." Matt planted a chair beside Damon's wheelchair and dropped into it.
His brothers had shown up at the rehab center bright and early and hauled him to Fischer house to spend Christmas with the family.
"I guess time heals all wounds, huh?" Steven already sat on Damon's other side.
Damon rolled his eyes at Steven then looked pointedly at his left leg.
Not hardly.
According to Dr. Campbell, Damon was making an excellent recovery. Physically, Damon agreed. His scars—what he could see of them—were still ugly but not nearly as hideous as he feared they would be. He was still weak as a baby and felt unsteady and uncoordinated on crutches. Who knew missing part of a leg would affect his balance so badly.
Inside, Damon was still a mess. He carried a dump truck full of guilt. Deep down, he knew the explosion wasn't his fault, but that didn't change the fact that he got to spend Christmas withhis family when Ford and King never would again. Nor would the passing of time make it so he could father children.
And then there was the PTSD. A dropped medical tray or the clang of weights made his heart race and his ears ring. He embarrassed himself last week by screaming in terror and covering his head with his arms when the nurse accidentally dropped his dinner tray. He tried to laugh it off when she gave him a sympathetic look, but his chest remained so tight for the next hour, he could hardly breathe.
He finally got to spend some time with MacDonald last week. That eased his mind a little. He never thought he'd be grateful he only lost part of his leg. Damon's injuries were a walk in the park compared to what his buddy sustained.
Shrapnel had damaged his intestines and kidneys so severely, he was likely going to need to be on dialysis and have a colostomy bag for the rest of his life.
"Hey." Matt elbowed him. "Get out of your head and come back to us."
He gave his brother a stiff smile. "Sorry."
Matt leaned toward Damon, but his eyes stayed on his kids who played with their new toys. "You have a lot to work through. You need to process all those emotions, but the longer you stay stuck inside your own head, the harder you're going to find it to leave."
Leaving is easier said than done.
Some days the darkness was so thick and heavy it nearly swallowed him. Clawing his way out to do PT or pretend for his mom that he was okay was almost impossible.
"Mom, are you going to give Damon the rest of his presents?" Steven leaned forward in his seat and motioned to the boxes behind their mother's chair.
"I already opened my presents," Damon said. Looking at the stack of mystery and thriller novels and civilian clothes that consisted mostly of T-shirts, sweatpants, socks and underwear.
"Those presents were from us." She held three big boxes out to him. "These are from Grace."
