Heart of Clay (30 page)

“Oh, yes. We can take good care of you,”
Audrey said, nodding her head excitedly. “Can’t we, Auntie
Callan?”

Callan smiled as she set Emma down and
lifted Audrey off the bed. “Absolutely. You’ll be great little
helpers.” She turned toward the door and asked the girls if they
thought they should go see what treats they could find in the
cafeteria. They were quick to agree that would be a fine idea. She
held their hands as they walked out into the hall. The girls
chattered excitedly, asking a multitude of questions about Uncle
Clay, like when he could play, how come he couldn’t get out of bed,
and if he got ice cream every day.

Josh smiled as they left then turned to
Clay. “So how are you really doing? My sister tells me you’re
getting tired of staring at the same four walls. Anything I can get
for you?”

“I’m doing okay. Just getting a little
restless and homesick.” Clay glanced wistfully out the window,
regretting his inability to go outside and enjoy the summer
sunshine.

“Well, how about a game of checkers?” Josh
asked as he set up the board on Clay’s bed tray. “Say, you know the
Stewarts down in Sublimity? The other day at the feed store I heard
he was …”

Clay smiled. Josh was nearly as good at
telling stories as his dad. Leave it to his brother-in-law to both
distract and entertain him.

Up and on the road earlier than usual,
Callan let her thoughts wander as she drove to the hospital.

It was a golden summer day with a deep blue
sky overhead. The sun, a spectacular golden orb, painted streaks of
rosy color across the horizon. The scent of ripening wheat and
freshly cut hay drifted in her car window. As she pulled into the
hospital parking lot, a sense of appreciation for the beautiful day
waiting ahead filled her heart to overflowing.

Quietly humming to herself, she made the
familiar trek to Clay’s room. He remained in bed, resting on his
side with his back to the door. Since he was usually up and eager
to go for a pass around outside in the wheelchair before breakfast,
she found it odd he still slept.

After setting her purse on a small side
table, she quietly approached the bed. Clay hadn’t moved or made a
sound. She hoped everything was fine. Concerned, she reached a hand
out and gently touched his shoulder. When he didn’t move, she gave
him a gentle nudge.

“Clay, are you okay?” she asked, trying to
keep panic from settling into her chest and coloring her voice.
“Clay?”

When she nudged his shoulder again with no
response, she turned to find a nurse. A hand grabbed her wrist and
she let out a startled gasp. Clay rolled over with a mischievous
smirk on his freshly shaven face. “Surprise!” he said, breaking
into a full-dimpled grin.

“Clay! You just scared five years off my
life and after your accident, I was already down ten!” Callan held
a hand to her chest and breathed hard. She felt like giving him a
swat on his backside.

Instead, she bent over and kissed his cheek.
She hadn’t seen it for several weeks and enjoyed the sight of his
dimples. Delighted, she inhaled the scent of his aftershave.

“You smell good. I definitely like seeing
your whole face. I really missed it, and your sweet cheeks.” She
laid her hand on his right cheek, thankful that the scars on his
chin and left cheek faded daily. The bruising and swelling was
nearly gone.

He started to look like her Clay again. His
hair was growing back over the scar on his head and all the
assorted gashes were well on the way to becoming nothing more than
red lines that would fade with time. Little reminders of what he
had survived.

“Who did you convince to give you a
shave?”

Clay gave her an amused look. “It just so
happens I had an appointment with the barber yesterday. Got a shave
and a haircut. My buddy Jake is a well-connected kid.”

Callan couldn’t believe it. “You mean to
tell me you let Jake near your head with both a razor blade and
scissors?”

“Are you crazy? I’m not that dumb or
desperate. One of his friends is studying to be a barber, so Jake
brought him in. He did a pretty good job, if I say so myself.” Clay
looked more like himself than Callan had seen since the day of his
accident.

“I’ll be sure to give Jake a call later and
thank him for his assistance. I suppose I owe him some cookies for
payment.” Callan pushed Clay’s wheelchair up next to the bed so he
could get up and they could go out for their morning stroll.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate it. If you make
him some, will you bring me a few? I’m so tired of hospital food I
could choke. Please, Laney, make me some cookies. Please?” Clay so
sweetly, she couldn’t refuse.

“Anything to stop your pathetic begging,”
Callan laughed. “Now, let’s get you up and rolling.”

In the past week, she’d heard, “I can do it
myself” so many times, she stopped offering her assistance
entirely. After relying on his arms, right leg, and core so much to
compensate for his broken leg, Clay’s already well-toned muscles
were at the point of becoming downright impressive. His left leg
was still entrenched in a cast from hip to ankle so his current
wardrobe consisted of T-shirts and gym shorts, which were easy to
get on over the cast. Callan knew he was as tired of his clothing
selections as he was everything else.

As she walked along beside him, Clay pushed
himself down the well-maintained path through the gardens and
around the perimeter of the hospital property. He could maneuver
slowly on crutches, but it was much easier on them both for him to
go for longer walks in the wheelchair. Callan enjoyed their morning
strolls.

It was marvelous to be out in the fresh air,
spend time with Clay, and she felt herself toning up from all the
walking. She’d have to suggest they keep up a similar routine when
they finally settled into a normal schedule at home. They talked
about nothing important, just chatted like old friends, enjoying
each other’s company. Sometimes they didn’t talk at all, lost in
their own thoughts.

However, Clay seemed to be in a talkative
mood that morning and his openness pleased Callan.

Now that he could see the evidence of
progress through his therapy, his personality and attitude began to
return to normal. As he rolled along, she stole a look at him and
felt her breath catch and heart trip. How she loved him.

Clay stopped and studied her, observant of
the fact she appeared lost in her own little world.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said as she
stood next to the wheelchair. He knew she was still woolgathering
by the look on her face. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did
you?”

She bent down and kissed him tenderly on the
lips, then laid a hand on his shoulder with a warm smile.

Clay grinned at her. “What was that
for?”

“Because I’m hopelessly and completely in
love with you.” Callan stepped ahead of him and tossed a saucy grin
over her shoulder.

Clay hurried to catch up to her. He grabbed
her hand and tried to tug her onto his lap. She planted her feet
and refused to be pulled down.

“Clay, be careful,” she cautioned, taking a
step back.

“Blast it, Callan!” Irritation and
disappointment filled his face as he shoved a hand into his hair in
frustration. “Can’t a man hug his wife? I haven’t been able to hold
you for weeks. Maybe it’s been months. Quite possibly even
years.”

Indulgently, Callan smiled at him. He hated
that particular smile. It meant he was behaving like a child and
she would put up with it as if he was six instead of
thirty-six.

He didn’t want to be treated like a cranky
little boy. He wanted to be treated like a man.

Her man.

Her husband.

Her lover.

Clay would have to speak to David about
getting his cast off and back on his feet soon.

When he took Callan’s hand in his, she gave
it a reassuring squeeze before releasing it and continuing with
their walk like nothing was out of the ordinary.

For Clay there was no ordinary anymore.

Before he would release his patient, David
wanted to make sure Clay and Callan could handle all the additional
challenges of Clay living at home. Once Clay had the strength to
move without help and Callan felt confident she could provide the
necessary care, he would sign Clay’s walking papers.

He glanced out his office window and spied
Clay and Callan on the garden pathway.

Callan must have said something to tease
Clay because he looked determined to overtake her in his
wheelchair. David laughed aloud when Callan planted her feet and
refused to let Clay tug her into his lap. She was extra careful not
to do anything that could possibly injure Clay. It drove his poor
patient daft.

David knew Clay was chomping at the bit to
be well, to be released, to resume life as it was before his
accident.

Fortunately, for Clay, he healed quickly and
life would most likely return to normal for him. The first few
weeks, he was afraid to hope that Clay’s leg would heal at all. Now
he had a degree of certainty that Clay would be able to walk
normally if he stuck to his therapy and followed orders.

He would always have a little trouble at
airport security with the plates and pins in his leg, but other
than that, he didn’t think the man would have any problems.

He gazed at the couple out the window and
saw Clay follow Callan like a puppy on a leash. David thought they
were probably as ready as they were going to get for Clay to be
released.

The next morning he announced that Clay
could go home. Callan and Clay were nearly beside themselves at the
prospect of finally being home together.

As Callan pulled the car into the driveway
the following afternoon, Clay looked around seeing their home
through fresh eyes.

Everything looked neat, tidy, and so
welcoming from the green oasis of lawn to the profusion of bright
flowers blooming seemingly everywhere.

The sound of Cully barking from the backyard
greeted him as he opened the car door. He drew a deep breath,
inhaling the fresh, clean scent of the air. It smelled of home.

Although he’d never smelled it before, but
he would always remember the scent of the fresh cut lawn, the spicy
bouquet of the blooming flowers, the loamy aroma of good earth, and
the fruity tartness of ripening summer apples that filled the
air.

After filling his lungs, he waited for
Callan to get his crutches out of the trunk and bring them around.
With her help, he got out of the car and balanced on the crutches.
As he made his way down the sidewalk, he suddenly had a new
appreciation for their ranch style home that had no stairs or steps
to maneuver.

Callan opened the front door then held the
screen door open for him. Slowly going inside, he acknowledged the
sense of warmth and welcome provided by their living room.

When he made his way to the kitchen, the
house burst into a buzz of noise and activity as people poured out
of the family room yelling, “Surprise! Welcome home!”

Amazed and surprised, he smiled at all the
friends and family milling around, wishing him well.

“This is quite a surprise. Thanks everyone,”
he said, taken aback by the number of people gathered in their
home. They all parked next door at the neighbor’s to keep Clay from
being suspicious.

“Why don’t we get you situated in the family
room and then everyone can take turns visiting with you,” Callan
said, walking with him toward his recliner. With a little help from
Josh and Jake, he collapsed into his favorite chair. As he settled
into the recliner, Clay decided it was the most comfortable he’d
been for weeks.

It amazed him that so many people cared
enough to welcome him home. He gazed around at the faces filling
their home, pleased to see his parents, Big Jim, Aunt Julie and
Uncle Ralph, Jake and his folks, Josh and Jenna, Laken and Tyler
and their kids, Audrey and Emma, friends of Callan’s from work, his
friends from the college, friends from their church, and many
neighbors.