Yuletide Redemption

“You don’t mind holding him?” She nodded at Parker, who had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms. What would it be like to have a man in her life, a husband to help raise Parker?

“Not at all. My niece Emily used to sleep on my lap, before...well, before I had the second surgery. The family doesn’t meet here for Tuesday dinners anymore. In fact, no one comes around as much. I didn’t want them to.”

“I get it. I pushed people away, too.” And some of them pushed me away.

The clock on the wall ticked as silence stretched.

“You never told me if your parents are taking Parker to the Christmas program practices.”

Celeste wrapped her arms around her waist. “I haven’t asked them.”

“Why not?” He sounded skeptical.

“It slipped my mind.” It hadn’t slipped her mind, but every time she considered calling Mom to ask, she balked. Something about the request reeked of desperation.

“Well, I should probably go back.” She rose. “Is there anything else you need before I leave?”

“Yes, actually.” Sam shifted in his seat, his face distorting as he did. “There is something you can do for me. I want to get out of here.”

* * *

“Oh, okay.” Celeste blinked. “Right now? It’s kind of cold out.”

Sam groaned. That wasn’t what he meant. He didn’t exactly know what he was asking.

“No.” He inhaled Parker’s baby shampoo, fighting the frustration bulging inside him. The accident had taken the use of his leg, but sometimes he thought it had taken his speech, too. Conversation had been easy—his strong suit—before the accident. And now? He might as well be a caveman, grunting and gesturing. “I mean in general. I was wondering if I could go grocery shopping with you.”

“Oh.” Her face fell as she sat back down. “Sure. No problem.”

But the way she slumped said it was a problem. “I don’t want to go out in the wheelchair. I don’t like being stared at, and I need to build strength in my legs. I’m just... Forget it.” He jerked his head to the side. Why did he have to be so dependent?

“Well, if you’re trying to avoid stares, I’m probably not the best person to be out with.” Her hair had fallen in front of her face, the way it had the first few times he saw her.

“Look, I know I’m asking a lot from you, but I’ve been hiding away for a long time. If I’m going to have any shot at a somewhat normal life, I have to go back to work. I thought if I start getting used to my crutches in public places, maybe it would be easier. I’m just asking to go with you when you have errands to run. Like when you stop in town for coffee or go to the library—that sort of thing.”

“I think that’s wonderful, Sam.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But your family is better suited to take you out.”

“They all work. I would have to go with them at the busiest times, and everyone in town would stop and ask a million questions. My legs hurt the worst at night.” His forehead tightened, and he could feel his pulse hammering in his temple. He hated begging, but he’d given it a lot of thought over the last couple of weeks. Since he was back in physical therapy, he could see how much he’d been missing. It was as though he’d spent the last months under a dark tent, and the flap had opened, revealing a sunny meadow.

Frown lines deepened above the bridge of Celeste’s nose. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?” He massaged the back of his neck with his free hand. “I understand I would slow you down, but it can’t be that big of an imposition.”

“You wouldn’t slow me down, and you’re no imposition.” She wrung her hands together. “It’s just...well, I don’t go to the coffee shop or the library. I do the grocery shopping as soon as it opens, and I practically sprint through the aisles to get it done as quickly as possible.”

Some of the things puzzling him about Celeste finally added up. “You don’t want people to see your scars.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. Was that a tear glistening in her eye?

“But you’re beautiful.”

She gasped, staring wide-eyed at him.

He shrugged. “I barely notice them.”

“You’re the only one, then. I have a follow-up appointment in December. I want more surgery.”

Something in her tone made him pause. In his experience, the doctors told him when he needed more surgery, not the other way around. He didn’t want to push the issue, though. He’d already brought a tear.

“Celeste?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Where do you miss going? You know, the places you took for granted before the accident?”

She gazed at the wall, a faraway look in her eyes. “Well, like I said, running. I’d run for miles whenever I wasn’t working. And we had a café I loved going to. I’d buy the latest David McCullough biography and just sit and read, sipping a latte. No one would bother me.”

She glowed as she spoke, and he wanted to give it to her—her old life—but he could no more fix hers than he could fix his own.

“With the weather getting colder, you won’t run outside anyhow, will you?” He couldn’t imagine running when it snowed. He’d never been an exercise fanatic. Played basketball now and then, and that was about it.

“Are you kidding? Of course I run in the winter. Ice and negative windchill are the only things stopping me.” She waved. “Well, until Parker came along, that is.”

Her words gave him an idea. He didn’t know if it would work, but he wasn’t about to overanalyze it at this point. “What if I watch Parker for you so you can run?”

“What?” She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I realize I’m not the best babysitter material. But if you brought him over here, there’s really not anywhere he could go. It’s a big open space for him. And I’ve got a television. We can watch cartoons.”

“But your cabinets aren’t babyproofed.” She stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “What if he falls or something and you can’t get to him?”

“I’m not paralyzed. I get in and out of my wheelchair fine, and you know I’ve been using my crutches longer each day for the past couple of weeks.”

Regret shone in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No offense taken. I understand. If you’re worried about babyproofing, we can empty the cupboards. I never use them.” He tightened his hold on Parker, so warm against his chest. He wouldn’t mind taking care of the little guy for her, not at all. “How long do your runs last?”

“Thirty minutes to an hour. When I trained for marathons, I did longer runs, but I’m not training now.” She began to pace. He liked watching her graceful movements.

“Do you want to?” he asked.

She stopped, turning to him. “Do I want to what?”

“Train for a marathon.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t considered it.”

“Why not?”

“Well...” She returned to the couch and gave him a frank look. “My life revolves around Parker. And I’m having a hard time fitting everyday activities and work around him. Even taking a shower has gotten complicated.”

He didn’t doubt that was true, but he guessed her insecurity about her scars was the bigger problem.

“Let me take him off your hands a few mornings a week so you can fit your runs in.”

He could see in her face how tempted she was to take him up on his offer.

“You can drop him off first thing Tuesday morning, and afterward we’ll go grocery shopping together. Look, you miss running. I miss work. I want to go to the Friday meetings. I want to inspect the cars on my dealership lot, talk to my employees and sell vehicles to my customers. I miss the reports, the quotas, the rush of meeting our sales goals. I need to get back. I might never walk on both feet again, but I can work. I want to work. But I need to do this, first.”

* * *

Celeste clasped her hands tightly. She had to say yes. She knew it. How could she deny Sam this? But how could she agree?

He didn’t know what he was asking.

“I want to help you, Sam, but there’s a reason I don’t go to the coffee shop and read anymore, and it has nothing to do with Parker. People don’t just stare. They ask questions, and sometimes it hurts.”

If she took him with her, he’d see how other people viewed her. He’d said she was beautiful—of all the wonderful things he could say!—but he’d see for himself no one else thought she was pretty.

“Maybe you’re wrong. They don’t know you, but they know me. If you take me with you, the people we run into might not notice you because it’s been so long since I’ve been out.”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah, and then a mom will stroll by with her young kids and one will say, ‘Mommy, why does she have all those marks on her face?’ It’s embarrassing, Sam.”

His lips lifted in a grin. “I can handle that if you can handle, ‘Look, Marge, isn’t that the Sheffield boy? What a shame it’s been this long and he’s still not walking.’”

She giggled. She didn’t mean to, but it came out. “Do people actually say that?”

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