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A Soldier's Return
A Soldier's Return

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A Soldier's Return

Язык: Английский
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“Tell me how they have been treating you here,” he said to change the subject. “Have you already charmed all the nurses?”

“Not all of them. A few of these nurses have been coming to my office since they were children. I’m afraid they know all my tricks by now.”

Wendell was regaling him with a story about the surgeon who had operated on him when Eli heard a slight knock on the door.

A moment later, it was pushed open, and a delicate-looking girl of about seven held the door open while cradling a huge cellophane-wrapped basket in the other.

“Hi, Dr. Sanderson,” she said cheerfully, giving his father a winsome smile.

Wendell beamed back at her. “Well, hello there, my dear. Isn’t this a lovely surprise?”

She gave a grin, missing her two front teeth, and held up the basket. “This is for you. My mom was busy talking to her friend at the nurses station and I got tired of waiting for her, so I told her I would come by myself. This thing is heavy.”

“Eli, help my friend Skye out and take that big basket from her before her arms break right off, will you?”

He dutifully rose so he could take the basket out of the girl’s arms and set it on the small table next to his father’s bed.

While he was occupied, the girl stole his chair, the one right next to Wendell’s bedside.

“That stuff is all for you” she said, pointing to the basket. “Even the candy. My mom and I went shopping in three different stores, trying to find all the things you love.”

“That is so sweet of you. Your mother is a treasure and so are you, my dear.”

She giggled. “My grandma says I’m a pill and too big for my britches.”

“I don’t doubt that’s true,” Wendell said.

The girl turned to Eli with a curious look. “Hi,” she said brightly. “I’m Skye Fielding. What’s your name?”

When she identified herself, he gave her a closer look. Skye Fielding. This had to be Melissa’s daughter. He should have picked up the resemblance before she even identified herself. Now he could see she shared the same vivid green eyes with her mother and the same dimple that appeared and disappeared on one side of her mouth.

“This is my son, Elias Alexander Sanderson.”

“Whoa. That’s a big name. It’s...” She counted on her small fingers. “Ten syllables.”

Yes. He was fully aware. Try filling out all those letters on military forms designed for guys named Joe Smith. “You can call me Eli,” he said.

“Hi, Eli.” She settled deeper into his chair, perfectly at home, which he found more amusing than anything he’d seen in a long time. With nowhere else to sit in the room, he leaned against the sink.

“Mom says you got brand-new knees because your old ones hurt you all the time,” she said.

Old is the key word there,” Wendell muttered.

His father wasn’t that old. He was only in his early sixties and vibrant for his age. Why hadn’t Wendell started dating and married someone? His father was still a handsome man. Judging by all the flowers and cards in his room, he was fairly popular around town, too. Maybe Eli could work on that while he was home.

“My mom says you have to stay here for two whole weeks!”

She seemed positively aghast at the idea.

“It’s not that bad. They have fun things to do all day long. Games and movies and music time. Plus, they serve good food and have free popcorn in the cafeteria.”

Eli had a feeling Wendell was trying to convince himself as much as he was the little girl. His father wasn’t thrilled about the time that loomed ahead of him in the rehabilitation center, but that was the price for his impatience and desire to do both knees at the same time, when he needed daily therapy and his house wasn’t fully accessible.

“Free popcorn! You’re lucky. I love popcorn.”

“So do I, but if I eat all the free popcorn, I might have a tough time getting back on my feet.”

“I guess.” She appeared to consider that. “Do you think I could have some now?”

Wendell laughed. “Maybe. You’ll have to ask your mom. Where do you think she is?”

“Probably still talking to her friend,” Skye said.

A moment later, as if to prove her daughter wrong, Melissa appeared in the doorway, looking slightly frazzled.

He had seen her three times that day, in three different wardrobe changes.

This morning on the beach, she had been wearing running clothes—leggings and a comfortable-looking hoodie, with her hair up in a ponytail. All day he had been aware of her moving around the office in burgundy-colored scrubs and a black cardigan. Tonight, Melissa had changed into jeans and a soft coral sweater and had let her hair down to curl around her shoulders.

He wasn’t sure which version he found more attractive. It was a little like being asked to choose among his favorite ice cream flavors.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, slightly breathless, with a stern look to her daughter. “Here you are. I didn’t know where you went. I was busy talking to Jan and when I turned around, you had completely disappeared.”

He could still see the shadows of unease in her expression and felt a wave of sympathy. He didn’t have children, but he knew that panicked feeling of not being able to find someone you cared for deeply. He had a flashback of running through a panicked crowd, everyone else screaming and trying to escape the market center while he ran toward the chaos and fear. He closed his eyes, trying to scrub it away and return to the moment.

“I told you two times I was going to carry the basket to room forty-one,” Skye informed her mother. “I guess you just didn’t hear me.”

More of Melissa’s fear seemed to seep away and she hugged her child. “I’m sorry, honey. Jan is an old friend of mine from nursing school. I didn’t know she was working here. I’m afraid I got a little distracted, catching up with her.”

“My arms were too tired to keep holding the basket, so I found the room and gave it myself to Dr. Sanderson.”

“I see that. Thanks, kiddo.” She ran a hand over her daughter’s hair and the sweet, tender familiarity of the gesture sent an odd lump rising in his throat.

The unexpected emotions intensified when she leaned forward and kissed Wendell on the cheek.

“And how are you? How are the new knees?”

His father shrugged, clearly pleased at the visit from Melissa and her daughter. “I can’t complain. Though I’m not ready to dance the salsa yet, I can tell they’re already less painful than the old ones. They’ll be even better once I break them in.”

“Don’t be in too big of a rush. How many times have I heard you tell your patients that true healing takes time?”

His father made a face. “Do you know how annoying it is to have your own words thrown back in your face?”

She laughed. “It’s for your own good.”

“I know.” He gestured to the brace she wore. “What happened to your wrist?”

Her gaze shifted to Eli, and he thought he saw a soft brush of color soak her cheeks. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say Fiona was in a strange mood this morning and I fell. But it’s feeling much better. Your son checked it out for me.”

Whether she had wanted him to or not. She didn’t say the words, but he had a feeling she was thinking them.

“That’s good to hear. He’s a good boy and an excellent doctor. I’ve been waiting for him to come back so he can meet you.”

Oh, no. That sounded entirely too much like matchmaking. He had to cut that off before Wendell got any inappropriate ideas.

“We’ve met, Dad. You remember. Melissa and I went to high school together for a year, though I’m older. I knew her ex-husband, too.”

“My dad got married again and his wife is going to have a baby.”

Melissa gave her daughter an exasperated look, and Eli had the feeling she wasn’t thrilled with Skye for sharing that particular nugget of information.

“Yes,” she said. “We’re very happy for them both.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate,” Wendell said. “That makes your visit mean even more. A visit would have been enough, you know. You didn’t have to bring along a huge care package, so heavy your strong seven-year-old daughter could barely carry it.”

“It’s only a few things, I promise. The fancy packaging always makes baskets look bigger than they are.”

Except for that fleeting glance, she seemed to be avoiding looking at him directly. Why? Had he done something wrong that day in the office? There had been a little awkwardness early on, but Eli had thought by the end of the day they had started to establish a bit of a comfortable rhythm.

Skye nudged the basket closer to Wendell. “Open it. I want to see if you like the stuff we picked out.”

“I’m sure I will love everything. It came from you, so of course I will.” He smiled at the girl, who beamed back at him.

His father’s rapport with both Melissa and her daughter didn’t surprise him. Wendell loved people, one reason his staff adored him and his patients returned to him for generations.

“Go on,” Skye pressed. “Open it.”

He helped his father out by setting the basket on Wendell’s lap, then watched as his father went through the contents. There was nothing elaborate, but all the gifts seemed thoughtful and sweet—a paperback mystery he knew Wendell would adore, a book of crossword puzzles, a box of chocolates and a bag of lemon drops, a journal, a soft-looking knit throw that would feel perfect on chilly spring mornings.

His father was delighted with all of it.

“Thank you so very much,” he said after he had unearthed each new delight. “How did I ever get so lucky to have you both in my life?”

“We’re the lucky ones,” Melissa said with a smile.

“I don’t have a grandpa and he doesn’t have a grandkid, so Dr. Wendell said we can both pretend we belong to each other,” Skye informed Eli.

It warmed his heart that Melissa appeared to watch out for his father. She struck him as someone who couldn’t help caring about others. He had witnessed it all day. Even with her own injured wrist, she had been kind and caring to each patient they had seen.

“What are you two up to tonight, besides coming here and making my day?” Wendell asked them.

“We’re going to have pizza,” Skye informed him. “It’s Friday and we always have pizza on Friday. Sometimes we make it ourselves and sometimes we order it from a pizza place and sometimes we go out. Tonight we’re going out.”

“Nice. Where are you heading?”

“We’re going to A Slice of Heaven.”

“Oh, good choice,” Wendell said. “It’s one of my favorites. Have you been there yet, son?”

Considering Eli had only been back in town for thirty-six hours and had been working or sleeping for most of that time—or visiting his father—hitting all the local hot spots hadn’t exactly been on his priority list. “Not yet.”

“You can’t miss it. Trust me,” his father said.

“You could come with us,” Skye offered with that charmer of a smile. “Mom says maybe we can even get cheesy bread. They have the best cheesy bread.”

“It’s been a long day,” Melissa said, a trace of defiance in her voice. “I need a few carbs to the rescue.”

He wanted to suggest she also might need to rest and ice her wrist, but he didn’t want to stand in the way of a girl and her carbs.

His father shifted on the bed and yawned, his mouth drawn and his eyes clouding with exhaustion.

“We should go,” Melissa said, picking up the hint. “Come on, Skye.”

“Do you have to?” Wendell said, though Eli heard the exhaustion in his voice.

“I should go, too, so you can get some rest. That’s the best thing for you, in case your doctor hasn’t mentioned it.”

“He has,” Wendell said glumly. “I hate being in this hospital bed.”

“You know what they say about doctors making the worst patients. Try to behave yourself. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

His father rolled over, and Eli could tell he was already dozing off. He followed Melissa and her daughter out of the room.

“That was thoughtful of you, bringing a care package to my father,” he said when they were out in the hallway. “It obviously touched him.”

“Dr. Sanderson has been nothing but kind to us since we moved back to town. It’s the very least we can do, giving him a few things to help him pass the time while he’s laid up. He’s a wonderful man, your father.”

“He is.”

“Seriously. I’ve worked with a lot of jerk doctors in my day and your father is a breath of fresh air, as compassionate to his staff as he is to his patients.”

“It’s always good to hear my own opinion confirmed by those who work closely with him.”

“Not gonna lie. He’s my favorite of all the doctors I’ve ever worked with. You have big shoes to fill.”

“My feet will never fit in those shoes. Why do you think I haven’t come home before now to try? I just have to do my best to stumble along as best I can while I’m here.”

That was probably more revealing than he intended, at least judging by the probing look Melissa sent his way. He opted to change the subject. “So you’re off to have pizza?”

“Yep. Like I said, we always have pizza on Friday night,” Skye told him. “Pizza on Friday, Tacos on Tuesday. The rest of the time, we like to mix things up.”

He found it charming that she included herself in the meal-planning process. As precocious as the girl seemed, he wouldn’t be surprised if she could fix a gourmet meal all by herself, given the chance.

“That’s good. You wouldn’t want to be too predictable.”

“What are you having for dinner?” Skye asked him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t crossed that bridge yet. Unfortunately, I do not have a pizza-on-Friday tradition, but it sounds good.”

More than likely, he would head back to his father’s house and make a sandwich or heat up a TV dinner—neither of which sounded very appetizing compared to the carbtastic wonders of A Slice of Heaven.

“You could come with us,” Skye suggested.

He glanced at Melissa, who looked taken aback by the invitation. She didn’t seem crazy about the idea, yet Eli was surprised at how very much he wanted to accept. The idea of eating alone again at his father’s house held no appeal.

“I don’t want to impose on your night out together.”

“We eat together every night,” Skye said. “Besides, pizza always tastes better when it’s shared. It’s a scientific fact. Anyway, that’s what my mom says.”

“Funny. I don’t remember learning about that in school.”

He sent a sidelong look to Melissa, who shrugged and blushed at the same time.

“You must have missed the breakthrough study. Plus, when you share a pizza, the calories don’t count.”

“Good to know. I wasn’t aware.”

“But you’ve probably had a long day,” she said. “Don’t let us pressure you into it.”

He should gracefully back out of it. She didn’t want him there anyway. But he found he wasn’t willing to do it. He wanted pizza and he wanted to spend more time with her. Neither craving was necessarily good for him, but that didn’t seem to matter.

“I haven’t had pizza from A Slice of Heaven in years. Now that you’ve planted that seed, I’m afraid nothing else will do except that. Thank you for inviting me.”

She paused, then gave a smile that seemed only a little forced. “Great. Do you remember where the pizza parlor is?”

“I could probably find it in my sleep. I’ll meet you there.”

“See you.” Skye tugged on her mom’s hand. “Let’s go. I’m starving!”

She followed her daughter out of the rehab center, and he watched them go for a moment before following closely behind.

As delicious as the wood-fired pizza was at the beloved seaside pizzeria, he found Melissa and her daughter even more appealing.

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