Page 42 of A Hero Comes Home

Bottom line: really, sometimes Jacob could be such an ass.

So it was that she went, with a mother’s ire, stomping down the steps and out the kitchen door to confront the insensitive brute. She found him sitting on the back steps. By the light coming through the kitchen door and window, she could see clearly. He’d removed the soft brace and was massaging his extended leg.

She stopped dead in her tracks, and all the anger seeped out of her at the sight of the uncovered limb. It had been shaved, unlike the right leg which was covered with black hairs, and there was clear evidence of old and new scars from midthigh to midcalf. Lots of them.

“Are they from injuries or surgeries?” she asked, sinking down to the top step beside him.

“Both.”

“Jake, the kids are disappointed.”

“I know.”

“They’re little. They don’t understand. You have to be careful—”

“I’m trying, Sal.”

“Would it have hurt for you to go up and tuck them in?”

“Actually, it would have. More than you can imagine.”

Was he talking about physical hurt, or emotional hurt? She frowned at him in confusion.

“I couldn’t have made it up the stairs tonight unless I crawled, and even then it would probably have to be backward, a butt bump up the steps, bracing myself on my arms.” When she didn’t say anything, he elaborated, “I’m going to get better. Eventually. I mean, my leg will improve with rehab over time. Probably never back to normal, but better than this mean mess that it is presently. For now, though, I’m in excruciating pain. Bear with me if I don’t act the way you think I should.”

Wow! Was that a kick in the gut or what? Guilt me out, why don’t you? That was probably why he’d bathed in the cold outdoor shower before going to the barbecue tonight, instead of using the full shower and bath upstairs. She had wondered at the time, figuring he’d just wanted to leave that bathroom for her and the kids to get ready. “The pain is that bad?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t you have pain meds?”

“I do, but I don’t like to take them.”

“The opioid addiction thing?”

“That and the fact that they dull my brain, make me sleepy.”

She nodded.

“I’m gonna take one in a few minutes,” he said, then looked directly at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.”

She wasn’t sure if he meant because of the stairs, or because of the mistake they’d made earlier with the “almost sex” on the sofa. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, or to engage in that particular discussion tonight.

He was still looking at her. Was he expecting her to argue with him, or offer to sleep on the couch with him? Which would be tight, and therefore involve more than sleeping. He was, after all, still an attractive man, and she had been celibate for a very long time, and he was her husband. Instead, she said, “I’ll get you a pillow and sheets.”

He was the one who nodded now, and then was back to massaging his leg and staring straight ahead.

She thought about offering to do the massage for him. Perhaps with some warm oil. No, no, no! That would lead in the same direction as sharing the sofa. She felt the need to say something else, though. “Jacob, I am glad to have you home. I hope you know that.”

He didn’t look at her when he said, “I’m glad to be home.” It was almost as if he was surprised to be “glad,” that perhaps he hadn’t wanted to come back here.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking about divorce three years ago. Or even now.

Later that night, she awakened suddenly, disoriented. She wasn’t sure what had drawn her from the deep sleep she’d fallen into the second she hit the mattress. It had been a long, long day. For all of them.

Any mother—especially the mother of three boys—was alert to the slightest disturbance in the air during the night, even when asleep. She looked at her bedside clock. Almost two a.m. She slipped out from under the sheet and coverlet and made her way down the hall.

First, Matt’s tiny bedroom where she saw that he was spread-eagled out on his back, uncovered, snoring slightly. Because he was prone to throat infections, he would probably need to have his tonsils removed next year. She covered him, kissed him lightly on the forehead, and left the room.