Houseswap 101, p.25
Houseswap 101, page 25
When he didn’t respond, she stood and stretched, setting the pill organizer on the kitchen table next to the alarm she’d preprogrammed. Twice a day an alarm would signal for him to take his medications and she would be there making sure all went according to plan.
Even if he wouldn’t admit it, she knew he was happy to be out of the hospital at least. She was happy too. In the past five days, she’d lived through all the reasons for her anxiety about hospitals, including misdiagnoses and medication errors. She knew mistakes happened, but it’d been one worry after another feeding a constant underlying layer of anxiety. The what-ifs had kept her in a sleepless daze. But now he was home. And, in the end, the doctors had given him a good prognosis—albeit with restrictions.
The stroke had been mild, but when he’d fallen he’d injured his leg. One doctor had been concerned he couldn’t bear weight on the leg because of something to do with his diabetes. Another thought he might have a tumor. Two days in the hospital and two MRIs later, consensus was he needed a total knee replacement. He’d managed to tear all the ligaments in his knee, but surgery couldn’t happen right after a stroke. The list of reasons why included death. She’d stopped listening when they’d said that.
After it was decided he wouldn’t have surgery but would be sent home with a walker, she’d gone to his house to gather a few of his things and measured to make sure he could get around the tight corners of the space with a walker. Matt was still living in her house, and they’d agreed he would stay the remainder of the month as originally planned. She’d checked in on him, avoiding any topic that might bring up Devyn, and then headed back to the hospital.
In the few hours she was gone from the hospital, Uncle Bruce had gotten out of bed and fallen again. It wasn’t another stroke, but he managed to hit his head. That meant another MRI.
The next few days were a blur. All the tests and exams took an emotional toll on him. It took a toll on her, too, though she couldn’t admit it. Then on day five he was standing—with assistance—and could mostly use the walker he detested. The neurologist had determined he hadn’t suffered any significant damage after the second fall but said, “Use the walker or you’ll be back to see me when you fall again, and I know you aren’t a fan.”
The neurologist’s dry humor reminded Robbie of Devyn. But lots of things reminded her of Devyn. She’d gone between desperately wanting to call her to wanting to push away all memories of San Diego. After the news that Uncle Bruce was being discharged with the plan for surgery on the knee in six months, she felt like her fate was sealed. He didn’t have to go to a rehab facility as long as he used the walker and had supervision.
Supervision had been the word that hadn’t sat well with Uncle Bruce. Supervision also meant no chance she was going back to San Diego.
“It’s not so bad living with someone else, you know. I got used to it with a woman who hated my guts.” Robbie sat down on the sofa opposite the recliner. “She kind of liked me by the end of it. It was probably only my cooking.”
He looked away from the window finally. “First time you’ve mentioned her. I was wondering when you’d decide to talk.”
“We’ve been talking.”
“About nothing important.”
The medications and the diagnoses as well as the future care plan were all important, but Uncle Bruce wanted nothing to do with any of it. Which meant all decisions fell to her. She’d longed to call Devyn simply to discuss the plan and the recommendations, but she didn’t want Devyn to think she was using her simply for medical advice. When she was ready to talk to Devyn, she wanted to do so without any other motive. The problem with that plan, though, was she didn’t know what to say. Did Devyn want a real relationship? She desperately wanted one, but for anything to work it’d have to be long distance and she had no idea if Devyn would be interested in that. Was what they’d had together important enough to Devyn for her to want more than sex? She worried the answer was no.
“You miss her. I can tell.” He could read her like no one else.
“I was getting too attached.” She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Better to cut ties early, you know?”
“No.”
“No?” She squinted at him. “Meaning you think I would have been better off staying another week and getting more attached? Or worse, pouring out my heart to her?” She shook her head. “We had a talk after we first slept together. She set the boundary lines. She didn’t want a relationship. Only sex.”
“Then why would it have been a problem if you’d stayed longer?”
“If I stayed another week, I would have crossed the lines we agreed on.”
“What lines?”
She blew out a breath. “I fell in love. I was too close to telling her. It’s better I left before that happened.”
He nodded slowly. “Guess that makes sense if you didn’t want her to know you were in love.”
“I didn’t want to be in love.” And she’d tried fighting it. “It’s better I left. To be one hundred percent honest, I’d rather it not have been because you decided to have a stroke. But you like risking your life to save mine.” She winked.
“That wasn’t saving your life.”
“Saving me from heartbreak, then.” Her heart ached more with every passing day, however, and she wasn’t sure he’d saved her fully from that fate. She longed to hear Devyn’s voice. Longed to wrap her arms around Devyn. Longed to simply be within five feet of Devyn. She hadn’t anticipated how much she’d miss her nor how gutted she’d feel. She tried blocking a swell of emotion and said, “A relationship wasn’t going to happen. Not the type of relationship I want, anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s in San Diego and I’m here.”
“End of story?” He lifted his eyebrows. When she nodded, he said, “Didn’t know I raised you to be so scared of getting hurt.”
She locked eyes with him then, feeling the weight of his words. He had raised her. More than her mother who gave her life to drugs, more than her absent father who only showed his face long enough to be an asshole, and more than any teacher or coach or anyone else who’d come in and out of her life. “You didn’t raise me to be scared of getting hurt.”
“You sure about that?” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “I used to say, ‘Who needs love?’ Love never did me any favors.” He took a deep breath and gazed out the window again. “So. Good riddance.”
They sat in silence for a long moment after that. The words good riddance ran back and forth through her head. Nothing about leaving San Diego had felt good. She’d cried on the flight but the tears hadn’t brought any relief. She felt hollow. Like something she hadn’t realized belonged to her had been taken away and she couldn’t go after it. She had to simply sit with the emptiness and pretend she was fine.
Devyn wasn’t hers. She knew in her heart she wouldn’t be back to the house two blocks from the ocean with the dog she’d come to love and the woman she’d fought hard to keep from loving. After she’d landed, she’d sent Devyn a text and then tried to push San Diego out of her mind. For better or worse, as soon as she arrived at the hospital she’d been too caught up with worrying about her uncle to do anything about the gaping hole in her chest.
“Want me to start dinner soon?”
He shook his head. The old clock on the wall tick-tocked the passing seconds and Robbie couldn’t help wondering if Devyn was at work or off today. If she was off, what was she doing? Was she out walking Angel?
“I was on the phone with Paul when I fell,” Uncle Bruce said. “Matt found me, but Paul had already called the ambulance. He knew something was wrong with my voice.”
She waited, expecting more, but Uncle Bruce only closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the recliner’s head rest. Paul was his long-term on-again off-again boyfriend. When Paul had moved from Seattle to Palm Springs, Bruce had gone into a dark depression. She’d suspected the only reason he rallied was for her. She also suspected the reason he hadn’t followed Paul was because of her. “I didn’t know you and Paul were talking again.”
“He called me the day after you left for San Diego. We’ve been talking every day since.” He stopped, again studying the rain pelting the window. “Love. A lot of good it did me.”
“Are you being sarcastic right now or…” Her words trailed as she realized he was crying. Not sobs. Just tears slipping down his cheeks slowly like a faucet that couldn’t quite be tightened. She got up and went for the tissue box, handed him one, and sat down again. Now she understood who had ordered the roses that had awaited them when they’d come home from the hospital and who had called Uncle Bruce twice a day for the past five days. He’d asked for privacy when he’d taken the calls, and she hadn’t pressed.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” His voice was hoarse but he’d swiped the tears away.
“For sending your life in a different direction when I showed up on your doorstep.”
When he looked at her this time, there was no harshness in his eyes. Only tenderness. “Robbie, you have no idea how much you changed my life. And it was all for the better.”
“You gave up things. I know you did.”
He shook his head. “I made choices. You know who named you?” He tapped his chest. “I’ve loved you from the moment you came into this world. Your father wasn’t at the hospital—they’d broken up by then. So it was only me and your mom. The doctor thought I was the father and it was awkward explaining I was the gay uncle.” He smiled wryly. “But that’s what I said and the doctor laughed. Then I admitted I wanted to be a dad and the doctor looked around the room—your mom was passed out and it was just me and a nurse and the doctor—and he said, ‘Looks like you’re the only candidate who showed up for the job.’ Then he put you in my arms.”
She felt a press of tears. “You never told me that.”
“Sometimes we don’t tell the stories that are the most important.”
She reached out and grasped his hand. “Thank you. For a thousand things.”
He nodded. “Same.” After a deep sigh, he added, “I’m tired, Robbie.”
“You rest. I’ll start dinner. We can eat when you need to take your meds.” She made to get up but he held out a hand. “What?”
“I’ve loved you like my own daughter. I know how lucky I am you’ve loved me in return—even when I’m a cranky bastard. I don’t have any regrets for the direction you took my life. But I am tired of working the marina.” He glanced out the window at the gray water and added, “I’m tired of owning this dock. Tired of the rain. I’m even tired of this houseboat.”
She waited for him to go on, but when he didn’t, she asked, “You want to move to Palm Springs?” As soon as the question was out of her mouth, she knew his answer. She couldn’t imagine Uncle Bruce, who’d always been a boat guy, in the middle of a desert. She could, however, imagine him back with his old boyfriend.
A picture of Paul and Uncle Bruce collected dust on the wall adjacent to the window. There were more pictures of Uncle Bruce and her, but her eyes went to the one with Paul. Twenty years at least had passed since the shot had been taken. Two men in their forties, both balding, both laughing. Paul was bigger than Bruce and had a mustache. His arm was slung around Bruce’s shoulders. Uncle Bruce looked as handsome as he ever had, shirtless and with a sweetness in his eyes that had hardened with the years.
“Is Paul still sober?”
He nodded.
While the effects of the stroke had been minimized because of how quickly Uncle Bruce had gotten treatment, his other health issues weren’t minimal. On his own, he wasn’t doing a good job of taking care of himself. The internist had given him a list which included getting his diabetes under control and giving up alcohol. She knew he would be better off around Paul than his poker friends who all loved whiskey and cigars.
“I know what you’re thinking. Being around someone sober would be good for me.” He grumbled. “Paul wants to come for a visit.”
“That’s a great idea. When?”
“I haven’t said yes. I don’t like the idea of him seeing me with the walker.”
“The walker’s temporary. He’ll understand that. You should let him come.”
He eyed the walker with a grim expression. “This whole mess of getting old is bullshit.”
“It is.” She smiled when he scrunched up his nose, making a stink face. “You should get a refund.”
“I should,” he agreed. After a moment he added, “I don’t want to die here. Not without trying a few other things first.”
“Like living in Palm Springs?” At his nod, she asked, “You still love Paul?”
“Always have.”
She wondered if Paul had asked Uncle Bruce to move to Palm Springs with him years ago. Had he asked him to try long distance? Or to leave everything and take a chance on being with him? She didn’t have a lot of memories of Paul, but she remembered his deep voice and how he always made everyone laugh—and how he made Uncle Bruce light up like no one else could.
“Once we’re through with all of this,” she said, gesturing to the walker, “you could go there and try it out. I wouldn’t mind visiting you in Palm Springs, that’s for damn sure.”
He held out his hand and she clasped it. “We have to talk about the marina and the dock. Someone needs to take over management.”
“I can do it.”
“And keep working your other job full time? You won’t have any time off.”
“You’d be surprised what I can get done on the side.” She smiled. “Do you think I can’t swing it?”
“I know you can. The question is, do you want to?”
All along, Robbie had understood that the marina and the dock would be hers when her uncle was gone. It’d belonged to Uncle Bruce’s father first—the grandfather she’d never known—and even if she hadn’t always lived on a houseboat at the dock, the lake had always been home. It was her responsibility to step up to the plate next.
“What about San Diego?”
“What about it?” She shrugged. “I can’t rethink my whole life plan because I spent three weeks living a vacation dream.”
“Huh.”
“What’s that ‘huh’ supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
She tipped her head. “Tell me.”
“I didn’t return Paul’s letters for years. I couldn’t see how we could be together. I couldn’t see a way to make it work. Then I got to missing him, so I sent him a card. He called when he got it.” He shifted in the recliner. “Anyway. You’ll make your own choices.”
“There’s not a choice to make.”
“There’s always a choice.” He turned his gaze to the window, effectively ending the conversation.
She stood for a moment watching him. He didn’t look relaxed like she would have expected now that they were home. His brow was furrowed as if particularly cross at the rain and his fists gripped the recliner’s armrests. What was worse, he seemed to have aged ten years in the space of a month. She’d noticed how much older he looked in the hospital, but she’d guessed it was the lack of rest and the stress about his health. Now she knew there was another layer.
She headed to the kitchen with her head full. She wanted to call Devyn but still couldn’t think of what to say. “Hi. How are you? I miss you. And, by the way, I can’t leave Seattle again so this should be goodbye.” She sighed as the words landed in an empty room.
Uncle Bruce wanted to move to Palm Springs, which meant her future was on the lake. The marina, the dock, the houseboat. It was her turn to manage it all. She couldn’t sell, because if things didn’t work out with Paul, Uncle Bruce would need a place to come back to. She also couldn’t rationalize giving everything up for someone who’d set the ground rules of no attachment. All that was true, and yet she knew she’d find a way to have a relationship if Devyn asked.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Devyn had no excuse to not be having a good time.
Mari and Elena were joking about making babies as they took turns at the grill, and both were in the best mood she’d seen either of them in a long time. The wine tasted delicious. Mari’s old college roommate, Lou, was attractive and funny, not to mention obviously interested in her. And the sailing had been perfect. They’d had enough breeze to fill the sails but not so much to make the water choppy, and enough cloud cover for a break from the sun but not so much to have everyone shivering.
“Are you always this quiet?” Lou asked, claiming the space on the bench next to her. “Or should I be worried?”
Loaded question. She took a sip of her wine as she considered her answer. “I’m often quiet.”
“As long as it’s not the company.” Lou’s smile seemed tentative.
“Not at all.” Her mood had nothing to do with Lou, and she felt bad if she’d given that impression. She couldn’t well admit the problem concerned someone who wasn’t there, however.
“I told you she can be quiet until you bring her out of her shell,” Mari said, jumping into the conversation from the grill.
“It’s the quiet ones who can be trouble,” Elena added, bumping Mari’s hip. The two waggled their eyebrows at each other, making everyone laugh.
“I can handle quiet.” Lou’s look was cocky now. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Oh, there’s lots more you need to know,” Elena said. “But don’t expect that one to give up anything because you ask.”
Elena wasn’t wrong. It had taken years before she’d let Matt close enough to share anything personal. The same went for her other ex. Even Elena had to work to get past her walls. Robbie was the only person who she’d opened up to without thinking about the decision. Everything had happened easily with Robbie.
