Finding Christmas (9 page)

“What? Your prosthetic?”

“The button to release it, I-I can’t get it to work. I’m probably just upset, but it’s sore and-and, I want to t-take it off.”

“Okay, let me help.”

“No, I don’t want you to see it.”

“Maggie, it doesn’t matter to me. Haven’t you figured that out? I care about you. Now let me help.”

Going down on one knee, Will rested her artificial foot on his leg. He looked at the device, which was simple and complex at the same time. Luckily, it didn’t take long to find the button she was talking about. “Is this it?”

She nodded. Sniffled. Wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I hate this. I hate this so much. This is the second time you’ve seen me lose it. I’m not this person you keep seeing.”

“I know.”

He used his thumb, pressed in, and found it was tougher than it looked. Exerting more pressure, he heard the click and felt the tension on the limb release.

Moving it gently, Will pulled her leg from her pants, almost losing it himself. What this woman had gone though was overwhelming. Tears were tracking down her cheeks and he totally understood why.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this. I… I…” She dissolved into sobs so raw and sad, his heart hurt for her.

Rising, then sitting next to her on the bed, Will pulled her into his lap and held her close. “Please don’t cry, Maggie. Please. You know I don’t care, right? That it doesn’t change anything for your family? They love you.”

“Why did this happen to me?”

There was no way to answer, so he followed his instincts and held her, rubbed her back, until the sobs subsided, her breathing steadied, and she started wiping at her eyes.

When she started to settle, Will thought about Cooper’s advice. “
Tell her
,” he’d said. Maybe hearing a little bit of his story would make her feel less alone. He wouldn’t know unless he tried.

“When I broke my back, I felt completely lost.” He felt her go still in his arms. “I was twenty-five and my life as I knew it was over.”

“Split seconds. That’s what my therapist said. Life changes in split seconds.” Her voice was low, soft, still laced with tears.

“It does. I never saw my back injury coming. I woke up and I was in an ambulance, strapped to a backboard and in a neck brace.”

“It’s terrifying, isn’t it? And the pain…”

He swallowed hard. “I had no pain, except for the splitting headache. The trauma left me feeling nothing.”

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, lifting her head away from his chest. “We’re a mess.” A watery laugh cut through the sadness.

“I’m okay now. And you’re entitled to feel sorry for yourself, but you’re going to get through this. You have to.”

“I guess. But still, I’m so emotional. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen apart with another person like this. Even my mother.”

“Obviously, I survived it. How’re you? Do you feel any better?”

“Other than being embarrassed? I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear that again.” Pushing her hair back from her face, Will kissed Maggie softly on the forehead and then pulled her in again. He had no intention of letting go until she told him to.

“You’re such a good man. Why the hell are you even interested in me?”

“Funny. I feel like you are so out of my league, I was going to ask you the same question.”

She chuckled quietly, and Will felt like he’d just won the lottery.

“You know, we have a busy weekend coming up,” he said.

“Sunday morning with the kids. I’m looking forward to it in a strange way. But you’d better have coffee for me.”

“I’ll do one better than that. After, I’ll take you to Lindsey’s for breakfast.”

Maggie gasped. Lindsey’s was the best breakfast spot in town… maybe even on the East End. The buttermilk pancakes and cheese blintzes were the stuff of legend.

“Oh, now you’re just teasing me,” Maggie sighed. “Breakfast is serious business.”

“Honey, I never joke about breakfast.”

Stillness fell between them. It was so odd how Will was starting to be able to read her. Something was bothering her.

“I was asked to ride in the boat parade on Sunday night.” Maggie dropped her head, apprehensive. “As a VIP. It’s so dumb.”

“The town wants to recognize your sacrifice. That’s not dumb.” That was the honest truth. What he didn’t like was that Maggie’s feelings hadn’t been part of the equation. The plans were made for her participation before she’d even arrived home.

“No, it’s not, but it makes me uncomfortable.”

“It could be fun.” Will was going to make it fun for her if it killed him, she just didn’t know it yet.

“I’m probably going to be on the Mayor’s boat. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man, but he and his wife are a little too… stuffy.”

“You’re not on the Mayor’s boat.”

Adjusting herself on the bed, Maggie pulled and tugged and got herself into a comfortable position. “I’m not? Maybe you should fill me in. You seem to know things.”

“I’m one of the parade organizers.”

“Uh huh. Go on.” The way she’d narrowed her eyes let him know he needed to come clean.

There went that surprise. He was going to build up to the idea once he’d fed her Lindsey’s pancakes. “You’re riding on my boat.”

Maggie pushed up on her hands, lifted her entire body—which was bent like a pretzel in spots—and turned herself so her back was against the pillows at the top of her bed. The ease of movement stunned him, and impressed him at the same time. This woman was strong.

“I see,” Maggie narrowed her eyes. “When were you going to tell me?”

“After I softened you up with an incredible breakfast,” he grumbled.

“Sneak.” Maggie wasn’t angry, though; at least he didn’t think so.

“I’m going to string the lights after breakfast on Sunday. Want to help?”

“Um…” She was considering it. Her hesitation wasn’t about how to say no, but how to say yes.

“Come on, Maggie. It will be fun.”

“You keep saying that. Sunday had better be an amazing time, or I’m going to tell the whole town you’re a liar… or something.”

“Or something?”

She pursed her lips and he leaned in for a little peck. God, she was cute.

“I’ll tell everyone you’re a lousy kisser.”

He kissed her again, and again. Sweet, chaste kisses that made her skin flush pink and her eyes brighten.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Maybe it will be a little bit fun.”

“You won’t regret it.”

‡

O
ther than a
few text messages Friday and Saturday, Maggie didn’t hear as much from Will as she expected after her Thursday meltdown. Which was disappointing; not because of his hot kisses or insane good looks, but because after it was over, they’d had a good time together.

By the time her family had looked for her, she and Will were on her bed watching a football game and rooting for opposing teams. Between them was a bag of kettle corn Maggie had stashed in her room, so when her sisters threw the door open they were treated to Maggie, one leg only, tossing popcorn at Will, who was doing his sit down version of a touchdown celebration.

After the food was packed away, and the guests had gone home, or to midnight sales, Claire and Grace came in looking for information. Did she like him? Was there a romance brewing?

Now, two days later she was more confused than ever. She didn’t know what to tell her sisters or her friends. The answers were mixed. Yes, she liked him. Was there a romance brewing? She didn’t know. Maggie still couldn’t imagine it.

Arriving at the campus field house, Maggie had no idea what to expect with the kids. Will said there were about six, some missing arms, some legs; in any case, it was heartbreaking.

But Will had done a good thing, and she had every intention of helping him with this team. Grabbing her bag from the back seat, Maggie thought about the man who was changing how she saw herself. Will Fitzgerald was an enigma in many ways. Single, and almost forty, she couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t married with a pack of kids. From what everyone said, he was smart, devoted to his students, and well set, which included a beautiful house on one of the canals at the western edge of Holly Point.

He helped Cooper at the bar, worked with disabled kids, and made her toes curl. The guy seemed perfect, and as Maggie found out with her own ‘perfect’ life, there was no such thing. But she liked him, perfect or not, and helping a bunch of kids was a whole lot better than feeling sorry for herself.

The new field house at the college was impressive, complete with an indoor turf field and a running track positioned around the perimeter. When she walked in, she spotted some people in the stands, which she figured were parents. There were two other women standing near the bench. In the middle of the field, she spotted Will. He was crouching down, low to the ground, his long legs awkwardly folded in half, talking to a group of kids. They were completely focused on him, they were smiling, and Will was totally in his element.

A striking figure, Will towered over pretty much everyone in town. Maggie herself was just shy of five-seven, and he was almost a foot taller than she was. Unlike a lot of basketball players, he wasn’t lanky. Will was big, and powerfully built, with long, defined muscles in his arms, legs, and back, and strong, broad shoulders.

Maggie went to the sideline to deposit her bag, smiling when Will caught sight of her, and waved. The flicks and pulls deep down in her belly were becoming the norm when she was near the man.

And she liked the sensations. She liked the stirring desire she felt. It made her feel more alive than she had in months.
Years
.

More than a little self-conscious, she had to wonder if Will inviting her to help out was as much about her, as it was about the kids.

“Maggie, come here and meet the team.”

Nervous. She was nervous to meet a pack of twelve-year-olds who obviously possessed more nerve than she did. The group was divided equally between girls and boys… three of each.

Looking at them, Maggie was blown away by the amount of hardware on six kids, most of whom weren’t teenagers yet. Legs, arms, feet—one boy had lost both legs to mid-thigh. It was sobering.

“Guys,” Will said. “This is Maggie. She’s going to be working with the team.”

“Are you the pilot Coach Will told us about?” The boy who had lost both legs stood up. He was a beautiful kid—long and lean—his hair and eyes were jet black and his skin had a bronzy, olive tone.

“That’s me,” she said. God, she was so out of her element. Will, on the other hand, looked like he was born to deal with kids. “I’m Maggie.”

“Come on. Over to the fence. Do your stretches.”

The kids scrambled and Will came to her side, quietly supervising.

“They don’t bite, you know?”

“I guess I’m sensitive about what they’ve all gone through. I mean…”

“Everyone is different, and kids are resilient when you give them the chance.”

She glanced to the sidelines and saw the two women who’d been hanging back jump in to help.

Will nodded in their direction. “Kelly and Joanna. A PT and an OT who’ve volunteered to work with us.”

“That’s a good idea.” Feeling restless as she watched the kids get warmed up, Maggie sat on the turf and popped off her prosthetic. “I guess I should get in the game.”

Shucking off her sweatpants, Maggie felt a little uncomfortable being so exposed in only her spandex shorts, but if she was going to help move the kids along in their recovery, she had to move as well. Pulling her running leg and sleeve from her bag, she examined it before putting it on like she’d practiced.

It felt strange. This wasn’t the first time she’d tried out the blade, but once she stood, moving on a turf field was really different. She bounced from side to side, bending her knees, stretching, and finally running ten yards.

When she finished, with her hands on her waist, Maggie turned and saw Will and the kids were watching her.

“How did it feel?” Will called to her from the sidelines.

“Different,” she replied. “Very different.”

“Really?”

Maggie nodded. “Yeah. When I get used to this thing, I could have some speed again.”

Will gave her a thumbs up as she tested the new leg out a little more, but it was Maggie who was mesmerized by the man and the way he mentored the kids. He was patient and firm, encouraging, and very kind. Maggie wondered what made a guy like him tick.

The boy from earlier, the double amputee, ran up to her side. “You didn’t tell me your name, my friend,” she said.

He had the sweetest grin, and the light in this kid’s eyes gave Maggie a look inside a remarkable heart.

“Daniel Costa. Everyone calls me Danny.”

“So,” Maggie began, “what happened?”

Danny stretched his arms over his head. “Drunk driver. I was walking home from the bus stop with my mom. He hit us.”

“Oh, my gosh.” There was a burn in the pit of her stomach as the rage bubbled. “And your mom?”

“She died.” He said it quietly, with resolution and a level of solemnity that moved her.

No words. Maggie had no words to respond to the boy who’d been through such an unspeakable tragedy. “How old were you, Danny?”