Chapter 25
Myron was eating it up.
Not that he loved being in a wheelchair, but he couldn’t hide his pleasure at the blankets rearranged on his lap, the homemade cookies shared with him, the solicitous attention paid to his well-being. Even Eugene was being nice to him.
Lindsey was glad to have so many people keeping an eye on Myron. It had been an exhausting morning. Myron was released first thing, and Glen had gone in the van to pick him and his daughter up. As soon as Myron returned, he was effusive with apology and gratitude, which was so unlike him that Lindsey almost sent him back to the hospital. Then Darlene hugged her and cried and clung to her and said she was so sorry and so thankful to her, and it was nice to be appreciated, but Lindsey was still feeling a little fragile this morning and the sight of the other woman’s tears threatened to break down the small barrier keeping her own back.
Now Darlene was making arrangements to stay through the weekend, and Myron was enjoying Eugene reading to him, even though it was Jesse Stuart.
Lindsey was locking Myron’s pain pills up and adding a note to his chart about the additions to his medication. So she didn’t know that anyone else had come in until she heard the clicking of nails on the tile and then Booger was alternating between sniffing her shoes and jumping up to try to lick her face.
“Hey—” And then there was Walker in the doorway, empty leash in hand. “Hi,” he said, as he reached for Booger’s collar and reattached it. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay,” she said, ushering them out of the medicine closet and shutting the door behind them. “Hey, handsome.” She knelt down to scratch Booger behind his ears, and he immediately flopped down for a belly rub. She laughed, and tried not to look at Walker’s boots still standing there.
“I thought we’d check on Myron. Darlene called to tell me he was released this morning.”
“He’ll be glad to see you.”
Walker nodded, then rubbed the back of his neck. Uh-oh, Lindsey thought. “About last night—” he started.
Nope. She was still rocking that fragile-barrier thing. She couldn’t handle another “You’re too naïve” from Walker.
“Sorry, I have to check on—” She didn’t even finish, just brushed past him, past the common room, and started her rounds about three minutes after she’d finished the last round.
Booger whined as Lindsey rushed down the hall, but Walker held tightly to the leash. “I know how you feel,” he said, because he was now the kind of guy who spoke out loud to his dog. “Come on, let’s go find Myron.”
“Son,” said Myron as he accepted Walker’s help into bed. “Do you remember when we first met?”
“Hey, don’t get romantic on me, Myron.”
“You started shop class in the middle of the year,” Myron said, ignoring him. “You were a skinny kid, like a string bean, and you needed a damn hair cut.”
So much for the romance. “Yeah.”
“Everyone was halfway through making their napkin holders. Remember?”
“Yup.”
“And I thought, well, I can have this kid sit on his hands for another few weeks, or I can try to get him caught up. Do you remember that?”
“Yeah.” Myron’s accident must have jogged some kind of memory-lane impulse he’d never had before.
“And you did. I showed you the scroll saw and the air hammer and you caught right on. Of course, now I know why you were so good with tools, but I was impressed then.”
Walker still had that pineapple-shaped napkin holder. He used it to hold his mail. Probably not what his dad had in mind when he taught Walker how to make frames and stretchers for his canvases.
“It doesn’t matter what your dad taught you, though. You always caught on quick.”
Walker leaned over to fluff Myron’s pillow, but the old man batted him away.
“I knew from the start that you were a smart kid. That you’d do something great.”
Walker couldn’t help it; his pride puffed up just a little.
“I want to ask you something, kid,” Myron went on, gesturing Walker closer. He looked tired, so Walker leaned in.
And Myron slapped him upside his head.
“Ow!”
“What’s the matter with you, son?”
“What’s the matter with you?” Walker asked, rubbing his ear.
“That’s what I was coming to do last night. That’s why I ended up in a ditch by the side of the road. Because you’re not smart at all. You’re a damned idiot!”
“Whoa, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. Not when there’s a beautiful, kind woman who is probably not as smart as I thought, because she’s in love with an idiot like you.”
“Hey—”
“But then, you’re not as smart as I thought either, so you two idiots belong together.”
“Myron—”
“Don’t you ‘Myron’ me. I see the way you watch her. I know you got some funny ideas in your head about what’s good for you, but I’m telling you, you’re wrong. She is good for you.”
“I know she is.”
“Then what are you doing? Why is she still moping around like you kicked her puppy?”
“She is?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah. Kinda hard to see with your head up your ass, isn’t it?”
Walker smiled. But then he stopped. “Myron, I can’t. I can’t do that to her.”
“Can’t do what to her? Seems like you did it pretty good before.”
“She shouldn’t settle for someone like me.”
“Someone like you? What does that mean?”
“I mean, she’s got this great family, and she’s so . . . optimistic. She doesn’t see the world the same way I do.”
“I think we’ve already established that your view is messed up.”
“You know where I come from. My dad . . .”
“Red is a scoundrel and a liar, but he’s not you. You spent all this time trying to separate yourself from him—and you’ve done it. You’ve proven that you are not him, not that you needed to. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”
“I know, but—”
“So if you’ve separated yourself from your old man, what does it matter what he does? How does that affect you anymore?”
“It doesn’t, it’s just that—”
“Cut the crap, son. You’re just scared, is all.”
Walker suddenly found the toes of his boots very interesting.
“Hey,” Myron said, and he looked up. “I know you think you don’t deserve her. But I know you, kid. I know what kind of man you are. And you’re exactly what she deserves.” Myron held his eyes. “Don’t be a fool, son.”