“I suppose we have your neighbor to thank for today’s good mood.” Garrick’s father chuckled as he unloaded Garrick’s wheelchair and crutches from his truck. He wasn’t wrong. Garrick was in a good mood, had been for weeks now, maybe more so this morning because Rain had slept over again last night. They’d played another round of Rain’s favorite game and made popcorn and talked late into the night, like kids at a slumber party. Okay. Maybe an adults-only party, because there had been sex too, but that hadn’t been the whole focus of the evening nor was it why he’d been all smiles on the way to his PT appointment.
“Rain did a personal best in pull-ups this morning.” Because they’d had to park farther back in the lot, he settled himself in the chair with the crutches in their holder.
“In actuality or is that some sort of newfangled slang?” His dad seemed more amused by Rain’s presence than anything else. He could get a little awkward around Rain, as if he wasn’t precisely sure what to make of him and his role in Garrick’s life. The way Rain disarmed him was sort of cute as his dad was a stout pine tree normally, unflappable and confident, a natural people person and leader.
“For real. It was a good workout. We barely made it back before you showed up. Thanks for that, by the way. Rain had to get to work or he would have given me a ride. I’m off today, but he’s on brush hauling duty.”
“He sure is a helpful...friend. Almost makes your old dad expendable. Along with your friends too. I keep hearing from people that they’ve barely seen you.”
“Oh, I’m never getting rid of you.” Garrick laughed as they made their way toward the building. “And I’m seeing people tomorrow actually. Birthday party for Jacob out at Linc’s. Great chance for Rain to meet folks and for me to prove that I’m still alive and kicking and not purposefully ignoring anyone.”
“Ah. Never would have figured Linc for...” His dad shook his head. “Never mind. Hope it’s a good party. You got a present for the birthday? I got some nice belts in last week. Or I could do up a gift card.”
“Gift card is a good idea. Thanks.” His dad might be old-school Western to the core, but he was trying, and Garrick wanted to give him credit for that. He also wanted to reassure his dad more that Rain wasn’t about to shove him out of Garrick’s life, but then they had to pause to let a group of people pass through the wide double doors of the medical complex and the moment passed because his dad was clapping him on the shoulder, already moving away.
“See you after your appointment. I’ve got your grocery list and mine, so I shouldn’t get into too much trouble.”
“See to it.” Garrick waved him away before he checked in to his appointment. Good mood still swirling along with some excess energy from that morning’s outing, he was ready to get to work. But, to his surprise, Stephanie was accompanied by a stuffy-looking dude in a white dress shirt and skinny mustache, and they led him to one of the little private exam rooms in the back of the facility, not the main PT room with all the equipment.
“What’s up?” His stomach churned, already not liking whatever this interruption to his routine was.
“This is Alec. He’s from the billing department,” Stephanie explained.
“Oh, f—crap. Am I behind on copays? Thought I had you guys on autopay.”
“No, you’re largely caught up.” Alec glanced nervously at Stephanie. “That’s not what we need to discuss. It’s more about going forward. That is, looking at both what your personal goals are as well as what the insurance is willing to cover and what your clinical team recommends.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he admitted. Alec and Stephanie’s uneasy faces were giving him a complex, so he looked away and studied a poster illustrating correct posture for carrying boxes and other bulky loads. “I come. We do the work. I haven’t missed an appointment yet. Goal hasn’t changed. Get me back out there.”
“It’s not that easy.” Stephanie gave a pained sigh. “I wish, I really wish it was. But what Alec is trying to get at is that he’s been fighting the insurance on your behalf several weeks now. They want to stop covering intensive PT. And we’ve been working with your neurologist to try to get them to reconsider, but we keep running into brick walls.”
“What does that mean? They’re not going pay for more PT? Why?”
“The insurance looks at what is medically necessary.” Alec continued to frown, mouth twisted like he’d rather be discussing colonoscopy options than having this conversation with Garrick. “That is, they need the medical team to regularly review your care plan and to state that your condition can be reasonably expected to improve with the current course of physical therapy.”
“But that should be easy, right? I’m still not at one hundred percent. I don’t get why they wouldn’t think it’s necessary.”
“It’s the ‘reasonably expected to improve’ part.” Stephanie’s voice was soft but weary. “The whole care team has been worried for a while that your personal goals may not be realistic. I know the neurologist has explained to you the slim chances for total recovery. And your attitude of wanting to defeat those odds is so, so admirable, but—”
“I’m not here to be inspiring.” Garrick wasn’t sure whether he was madder at her and the rest of his medical team for not believing in him or the insurance company for putting all of them in this position. “If I’m hearing you right, what you’re saying is that the insurance doesn’t think I’m going to have significant improvements from where I am now, so they don’t want to pay for what we’ve been doing. Okay. So I pay out of pocket.”
“It’s a lot of money. A lot. And we can discuss that option, but the insurance is willing to cover some things on an adjusted care plan—for example, more occupational therapy for things like learning to drive with hand controls, counseling to help with your adjustment, and more limited PT to maintain your current level of mobility. Part of why I didn’t want to hit you with this over the phone or let Alec explain this to you alone is that everyone on your team—our head of PT, me, the neurologist, and the orthopedist—want you to take some time to seriously reflect on what your treatment goals are from here on out.”
“You said I was making improvements. As recently as a few weeks ago, you said you’d seen some progress.”
“Yes. Incremental progress. You are way stronger than when you started. Your balance has improved as your hip and ankle strength has improved. Your initial breaks have healed about as well as could be expected. You’re so much better at navigating with the crutches now. The problem is that the spinal injury is going to have a lasting impact, one that all the therapy in the world can’t erase. I wish it could.”
“But it was incomplete. Everyone said it was best-case scenario in a lot of ways.” The urologist’s words about luck rang in his ears, along with that doctor’s skepticism for him giving up the crutches. Fuck luck. Fuck it hard. Did no one believe in him? It’s almost been a year. That was what the neurologist had said at their last appointment, like Garrick didn’t know that, like he could forget, like that mattered when he was willing to work as hard and as long as it took.
“Incomplete doesn’t mean nonexistent.” Stephanie’s eyes were shiny, as if she were working to not cry, and Alec didn’t look a lot better. “And it doesn’t mean you can’t have a full life—”
“I have a full life. One I’m enjoying greatly at present other than the whole not smoke jumping thing. I don’t need a motivational speech here. What you guys are really saying though is that I’m not going back to work. And that’s not simply an insurance decision, but the whole team believing it.”
Both Alec and Stephanie slowly nodded.
“Maybe a second opinion...” Once when he was eight or nine, he’d jumped farther out into the deep end than he’d been planning, and he’d had this terrifying moment when the side of the pool seemed so very far away. He hadn’t been at all sure of his ability to make it to the wall and had started to sink lower in the water. This felt like that sort of moment, everything hanging in the balance, him needing something to cling to, even the idea of more doctors, more tests. Something.
“Yes. You can go back to Portland, to the medical school or even to Seattle or San Francisco. That’s absolutely an option. And you should probably pursue that before committing to paying out of pocket for anything. But I’ve done hours of research on your case, hoping to find something I could point you toward, some device or procedure or therapy that would get you the breakthrough with mobility that you’re wanting.”
“I...” His ears rang, his voice echoing like it was coming from an empty tunnel. He’d done the same research. He’d had doctors in Portland. But damn. He needed that life buoy, could feel his panic rising, throat closing and palms sweating.
“Do you need a minute? Some water?” Stephanie made a shooing motion at Alec, who bolted from the room. Putting her hand on his arm, she leaned forward. “This is a lot. I know. We don’t have to try and do a full session after hitting you with this, but maybe some stretching and some hydrotherapy would help?”
“Maybe.” Swallowing hard, he accepted the water Alec returned with moments later. It wasn’t either of their faults, and Stephanie and him, they went back well over six months now. She might be his healthcare provider, but she was also something of a friend. He didn’t like seeing her so upset on his behalf. And there was absolutely nothing that would be served by storming out or raging.
So, he let her dismiss poor Alec, who looked relieved that Garrick wasn’t making a scene, pale skin blotchy and head bobbling as he made his escape. And then he let her lead him to a quiet corner in the main therapy area, put him through some basic stretches before she took him down to the hydrotherapy area. Usually they’d do more exercises in the warm pool, hard work with the weight belts or range of motion moves, but today Stephanie went easy on him, using the first available excuse to leave him to do his own thing in the empty pool, no other people around.
Nominally, he was supposed to be doing easy laps, but instead he floated aimlessly, staring up at the ceiling lights until his eyes blurred. This was what he’d forgotten that day he’d panicked in the deep end—floating until a solution appeared was always a valid option. Except unlike then when a lifeguard had spotted him and jumped in with assistance to make it to the side, no answer was forthcoming, no rescue from his internal flailing.
What if I never skydive again? He ducked under the water, but the thought followed him down. He’d known for months now that that was what the neurologist believed. No one had lied to him other than himself, his daily mantra that he was going to prove every one of the doubters wrong. Fuck the whole thing about function regained by six months predicting overall prognosis. He’d had the appointments, heard the facts and projections, and chosen to maintain his unshakable belief that he was going to succeed. Sheer determination had carried him thus far. It couldn’t let him down now. He wouldn’t let it.
Except... Doubt, that fucker, had a hold of him, sure as a nasty undertow. Reality—the friction between his optimism and indisputable facts—couldn’t be avoided forever. He stretched out, trying to find that floating numbness again. Hell, trying to find himself, trying to gear up to smash this latest round of doubts. But he kept smacking into reality. Cold and large, increasingly undeniable. And not unfamiliar either. Certain fires he’d fought had required an acceptance of available data and gut instinct, knowing when to pull back, when even all the conviction in the world wasn’t a match for the will of the fire, and reality mandated that he adapt and change course. Fuck, how he hated those moments. And this...this might be one of them, and hell if he knew what to do now.
The only thing worse than Rain being in a funk himself was Garrick being in one and not wanting to admit it. He’d been strangely distant when Rain had arrived to walk Cookie after work the day before. Not mean or snappy, but a sullenness that wasn’t usually there. However, he’d denied being down, instead claiming tiredness, which was when Rain knew something was up because it usually took Herculean efforts to get Garrick to admit to being worn out. But he’d let Garrick have his privacy and his brooding time and had returned to Grandma’s to watch another comedy with her while he quietly worried about Garrick.
But he’d had hopes that Garrick would either snap out of whatever was bringing him down or talk to him about it. Neither happened, though, and now they were on their way out of town to the party at Garrick’s friends’ place in the country. Ordinarily, their silences while driving were the good kind, either broken up by random observations and Garrick’s commentary on Rain’s music selection or stretching out, contentment and anticipation mingling. Comfortable. However, today there was nothing comfortable about Garrick’s closed-off face and stiff posture.
“Are you sore from yesterday’s workout plus PT? We can always leave early if you need to.” Rain tried to sound upbeat but flexible.
“I’m okay.” Garrick sounded anything but, and Rain groaned. The empty rural road stretched out in front of them, a gorgeous summer day with blue skies, but the storm cloud over Garrick’s head didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
“I’d ask if you want to talk about it, except you quite clearly don’t. So, instead I’ll ask if there is anything I can do?”
Garrick paused like he was actually considering a real answer, then sighed. “It’s okay.”
“Nothing?”
“You sleeping over tonight?”
“If you want, sure.” Rain refrained from pointing out how Garrick hadn’t seemed exactly open to that last night.
“Slept like utter crap last night. Maybe...you being around might help.”
“Good. I’ll plan on it then.”
“Thanks. And sorry. I know I’m being difficult. I’ll work on being better.”
Rain wanted to tell him that he’d prefer Garrick to talk, not worry about how to hide his grumpy mood, but then the GPS bleated for him to make a turn into a long gravel driveway. A small, low house with a cheerful porch sat back from the road, and a number of vehicles were already parked off to the side of the drive, which meant Rain had to park farther from the house than he’d like. All the gravel and uneven, scrubby terrain was going to be hell on the wheelchair, something he wouldn’t have thought about a few weeks ago, but now he’d learned to always be looking for accessibility issues.
“How do you want to handle it?” he asked Garrick. “If you’re up for me helping push, we can probably get the chair to the porch or—”
“I’ll take the crutches. It’ll be slow going, but I don’t want to tear up the chair. And I don’t want... Yeah. Better this way.” Garrick nodded firmly, tone resigned, as if he’d had some internal discussion that Rain hadn’t been privy to.
Which was frustrating because Rain wanted to help and couldn’t do the best job at that if Garrick wasn’t communicating, but he also wasn’t about to start an argument right here or try to make Garrick’s bad mood about him when he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with their relationship, especially given the sleepover invite.
And he tried hard not to hover as Garrick painstakingly made his way across the yard to the house. All he could really do was carry the seven-layer vegetarian dip and chips they’d brought and hope for the best. There was little actual grass though, not much to cushion Garrick if he fell, and barring fluffy grass, Rain would have given a lot for a paved path of some kind right about then. As they reached the porch, the door swung open and the guy Garrick had introduced as Linc came out.
“You made it!” He frowned as he watched their approach. “Hell, I didn’t think about your wheelchair. Do you need me to fetch it from the car for you? Need help with the steps?”
“I’ve got it.” Garrick gave his friend a tight smile. Rain knew from experience with Garrick that steps, even three flat, wide ones like these, were among Garrick’s hardest challenges. He preferred to take his time and have his space doing steps and not have someone crowding him like his overeager friend was doing. Linc kept close, acting like he could catch Garrick if he fell, hands moving restlessly like he was tempted to steer.
Good luck with that. Rain hung back, waiting until Garrick was safely on the porch before he followed after the two of them.
“You did it.” Linc had a relieved smile as he opened the door to the house. “And you brought your friend... Ryan, was it?”
“Rain.” He gave the guy a nod, more concerned with finding a spot where Garrick could sit than shaking hands.
“Right. Rain. Jacob? Garrick and his friend are here,” Linc called as they entered the small house, which was teeming with people, several of whom turned to call greetings to Garrick. A tall blond woman plucked the food from Rain’s hands and spirited it away to the kitchen.
“Dude! You came!” Jacob bounded off a sofa where some tween boys were playing video games on tablets. He motioned for Garrick to take his place. “Sit, sit.”
“Nah, man, I’m not going to take your spot.” Garrick protested even as he was still breathing hard from the stairs.
“Take it. Please. I need to go play host, not get sucked into another round of the game. And speaking of hosting, what can I get you guys to drink?”
“Did your sister bring sparkling water like usual?” Mouth twisting like he was trying to smile and failing, Garrick settled heavily on the couch, tucking crutches in next to him. Rain asked for the same before perching on the arm of the couch.
“You didn’t want a beer?” he asked in a low voice. He’d seen Garrick have a drink on a few occasions now, and he thought maybe that might relax whatever funk he’d had going on the way to the party. “I’m driving, but you go ahead.”
“Gotta be able to navigate the steps and back to the car. Hard enough. Can’t risk a buzz and my tolerance is for shit lately.” Voice a rough whisper, he grimaced again.
“Ah. Gotcha. And a pain pill would also be a no go until later?”
“Yeah. Haven’t needed one of the heavy hitters in weeks. But maybe when we get back...” He trailed off before raising his voice and getting that almost-smile in place as a woman stopped in front of them. “Jenna. I hear you made cake. How have you been?”
“Good.” The woman, who turned out to be Jacob’s mother, made small talk with them a few minutes until a minor kitchen emergency merited her attention.
“Okay, so who else here do I need to know?” Rain kept his voice down, even though the kids on the other end of the couch were paying them no mind.
“Heck. I should introduce you around.” Garrick made like he might stand, but Rain kept a firm hand on his shoulder.
“Chill. People can come to you. And I’m having fun people watching. But I want the inside scoop before I make my way to the kitchen to find us some food.”
“Okay.” Garrick nodded, his ready agreement another sign that he’d already overdone it. He played along with Rain, though, pointing out various family members of Jacob and people he knew in the smoke jumper community. Rain could have guessed which ones were smoke jumpers on his own—they were the buffest, most confident ones in the room. The party had spilled over to a deck beyond the kitchen, but Rain had been right as various people kept drifting their way over to say hello to Garrick. Smaller kids ran through the place along with a pack of dogs that made him glad they hadn’t tried to add Cookie to this chaos. But it was fun chaos, a lot of people and food and a welcoming atmosphere.
“You ready for some food?” he asked Garrick right as Jacob arrived with drinks.
“Yes, go get food. And while you’re in the kitchen, make sure and admire the new deck. That’s my birthday present.” Jacob had a fond look for Linc, who was deep in conversation with some of the smoke jumping crew. Rain didn’t really envy him the new deck, but he did know a pang over that glance. Damn. Everyone needed someone who thought that highly of them and who wasn’t afraid to so readily show their heart.
Jacob’s mom assisted him in loading up a plate for Garrick, helpfully telling him which dishes were vegetarian for himself. She was chatty, and by the time he made it back, Jacob had stolen his perch on the couch arm and was in the middle of a conversation with Garrick about another upcoming controlled burn. Not wanting to interrupt, he handed Garrick his plate, then took a seat on the rug by the couch, close enough to contribute a little to the work talk and close enough for Garrick to tangle a hand in his hair after he was done picking at his food. He idly played with Rain’s half-bun and the escaping strands while he kept up his end of the conversation with Jacob, who kept glancing at Garrick’s roving hand with undisguised curiosity.
Nice as the contact was, not to mention being publicly claimed like that, Rain still worried because he’d never seen Garrick without an appetite before, especially given that the party food contained many of his favorites including wings. Speaking of cute affection, Linc ruffled Jacob’s hair on the way to let in more guests, a group that included the cocky smoke jumper he’d met that first day he’d known Garrick. A bunch of people called out greetings to Jimenez’s group, and they made their way over to the couch, where handshakes and backslapping bro hugs were handed out.
“Nelson! My man!” Jimenez had a particularly hearty hello for Garrick. “Looking good. How’d that lost dog turn out?”
“Pretty good.” Garrick gave a wry smile. “She’s mine now. Spoiled rotten, but she’s a great dog.”
“Excellent. And you? How are you? When are we going to see your ass back in gear? Getting awfully quiet around the base without you talking smack.”
“I...” Garrick had already fielded a wide variety of questions about how he was, most with brief yet polite replies, but something about this one seemed to stump him. “Not happening.”
“What?” Jimenez frowned along with several others standing close by.
“I mean, I’m not going back to smoke jumping.” Garrick’s voice was loud enough to make the other swirling conversations around them stop, all eyes on him.
“What?”
“Since when?”
“What happened?”
“Really?”
The questions came from all directions, and Rain sure as hell had some too, but he was more concerned with how Garrick’s eyes were flat, no light at all, and his skin grayish, like he might need to hurl soon.
“I...need to get out of here.” Garrick used his crutches to stand, then pushed past several openmouthed people to make his way to the front door, which banged closed behind him.
“I should go after him.” Frowning, Linc headed after him, but Rain got there first.
“Let me.”
“Me and him, we go way back. Grade school even.” Linc’s eyes narrowed like he was readying more of a case for himself, then his head tilted, considering. Rain stood firm, meeting him hard stare for hard stare, and Linc must have seen something satisfactory in Rain’s gaze because finally he nodded. “Go on then.”
Not that Rain needed permission, but he appreciated not needing to battle a crowd of well-meaning folks to get to Garrick. He didn’t have to go far to find Garrick as he was still on the porch, sitting on a bench at the far end.
“Fucking steps. Can’t even storm off properly. Not to mention I didn’t drive here myself.”
“If you need to leave, we’ll leave.” Despite wanting desperately to touch him, Rain hung back, trying to figure out how to give Garrick what he needed most right then, whatever that was.
“I should go apologize first. Explain. Fuck. I hate this.”
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation. If you want, I’ll go make a quick goodbye. Then you can call Linc or whomever when you’re ready.”
“You’re too good to me.” Some of the fight went out of Garrick’s voice, leaving him sounding utterly exhausted. Worn out. Rain couldn’t not reach out now, and he rubbed one of Garrick’s concrete-pylon-tense shoulders.
“You should know by now. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. We’re totally hide-the-bodies friends.”
“Totally.” Garrick gave him a weak but grateful smile. “And yeah. I know it’s not the best, but I just want out of here.”
“Quit worrying about other people,” Rain said sternly, continuing to rub his shoulder. “I’ll make it happen for you.”
And he would because making excuses was easy. Fixing what was wrong with Garrick, though, that was going to take some work. And talking. Lots of talking. This time he wasn’t letting Garrick out of the conversation either. One way or another he was getting the whole story.