I'll Be Home For Christmas (A Coming Home Novella) (13 page)

“What?” Nicole was instantly alert. “What’s wrong?”

Carponti lifted his bandaged hand. “This was my right hand.”

“Yeah?”

“I, ah… pursue certain pleasurable activities with my right hand. Now I’ve got to learn to do it with my left.”

Nicole buried her face in his shoulder and laughed. “There’s something so wrong with you.” But her voice broke and a shudder ran through her.

The emotions snapped inside him as her tears wet the hospital gown. He held her close and let her cry, so goddamned grateful that he was there to hold her. The thought of her crying on his grave threatened to choke him. “I’m okay, babe. I’m okay.”

“I know.” She leaned up and sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I just… I’m just glad you’re here. I don’t care about anything else. You’re here. You’re okay.”

“I mean, I’d rather be elsewhere—”

She slapped his chest gently. “You know what I mean.”

He smiled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

He held her for a while. The noise from outside the hospital room faded away and he fell into sleep, holding the one person in the world who mattered most to him.

He woke up to a gentle kiss on the side of his mouth. He turned and nuzzled his wife. The doctors didn’t like her sleeping in the bed with him but he didn’t actually care. For every night over the last week she’d waited until the late night nurse had completed her rounds and then she’d crawled into bed with him, careful not to bump his arm.

He slept better when she was with him. Her weight against his side was comforting and solid and real.

She’d stayed with him and he counted his blessings every single morning when he woke up and she was there. “Good morning,” she whispered, nestling closer.

“Morning.” He kissed the top of her forehead, savoring the quiet warmth of her body against his.

As hospitals went, Landstuhl Medical Center was pretty good. Food wasn’t bad, nurses were nice when they weren’t irritated with Carponti’s antics.

The door opened and Nicole tensed. Carponti’s arm tightened around her to keep her from leaving the hospital bed.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” she whispered.

“Don’t care.”

The doctor walked in. Carponti grinned. “Good morning, Doctor Kevorkian.”

The doctor’s face flushed red beneath his white hair. He did not look amused. “My name is Doctor Goldstein, Sergeant. I’ve told you that about six times.”

“Well, yeah, I heard you the first five times. But Doctor Kevorkian has such a nice ring to it.”

Nicole was crying in hysterics next to him, trying to catch a breath to talk.

His wife’s hand shot up to cover his lips. He kept talking but it was muffled beneath her palm. “Just ignore him,” she said. She looked up at him. “Stop before you give the man a heart attack.”

Carponti turned his wide-eyed expression on his wife. “What?”

Nicole’s face was lit up with a brilliant smile. “The doctor does not share your sense of humor. What can we do for you, sir?”

The doctor’s flush retreated a little bit with the knowledge that at least one person in the room wasn’t clinically insane. “Looks like we’re going to release you.”

Carponti stilled. Nicole dropped her hand from his mouth and slipped from his embrace.

“Okay.” She climbed out of the bed and pulled on a sweater and paid close attention to what the doctor said. She asked questions Carponti didn’t hear over the loud buzzing in his ears.

Somehow, things had reached stasis in the hospital room. He felt safe here. He’d learned to get his pants down with one hand. Started getting used to the idea that he was suddenly left-handed. But now? Now this was like jumping out of the airplane without a parachute. Being released? He wasn’t ready to face the world. Not like this. Would people stare? Yeah, they’d stare. Hell, he’d stared every time he saw someone with a missing limb. He’d felt like an ass doing it but it was just so… different.

And now he was about to be released into the wild? He wasn’t ready for that.

The doctor left and Nicole turned, a stack of papers in her hands. “They’re going to bring all your medication up so we don’t have to wait in the pharmacy,” she said softly. Concern was written all over her face and he loved her for it.

But Carponti couldn’t find a single thing to say.

* * *

She wasn’t used to her husband being quiet. Before, when her normal had included mundane tasks like getting groceries and paying bills, she’d always assumed her husband’s silence meant he was getting into something. Mischief and all that. Now? Now a new silence emanated from him and she was not used to it at all.

She read over the discharge paperwork, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. His head was down, his shoulders slumped.

She didn’t think he was getting ready for a joke.

She set the paperwork down and climbed over the bed. She slipped behind him and dropped her legs around his hips then wrapped her arms around his waist. She simply sat there, leaned against him, and said nothing. Hoping that her actions were enough because she wasn’t sure she could say anything without the tears breaking through again.

After a long moment, he leaned back against her, his hand sliding over her forearm.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered when she was sure her voice wouldn’t crack.

“I know.”

“But?”

He paused for a long time, his thumb rubbing along her skin. “I don’t have any pants. I am positive that if I go strolling around the medical center in my gown, I will give at least six sergeant majors a heart attack.”

She laughed then and this time, tears didn’t come. She laughed and simply held onto her husband because he was okay. He was a little shaken up, a little unsteady, but he was okay. If she kept telling herself that often enough, maybe she’d start to believe it.

“I can go to the PX and buy you some clothes.”

“Just pick me up some sweatpants, okay? Nothing fancy with buttons or anything?”

She crawled around and stood in front of him, her arms draped around his neck. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you always dress like a million bucks and you’ll probably find some very uncomfortable, starchy clothes that will make me itchy.”

“You’re always itchy in real clothes. It’s like you have an aversion to them.”

He grinned. “I do. Dress pants are a lot harder to get off when we’re getting ready to do the horizontal tango.” He held up his bandaged arm. He slid his hand down her side, resting it on her hip, and urged her close to nibble on her lips. “You have no idea how turned on I am,” he murmured against her mouth.

Her throat went dry. She wanted very badly to kiss him. To feel his mouth on hers, his tongue slide against hers. But she was terrified that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

And there was a fear, nestled deep inside her, that he wasn’t as okay as he was pretending to be. And she’d be damned if she was going to do anything that would risk getting him hurt or sick or keep him in the hospital any longer than he’d already been here.

“Me too,” she whispered. “But doctor’s orders.”

He made a growling sound deep in his throat. “I’m going to find someone with the first name Doctor to write me a note.” He stroked his hand over her hip and tiny bolts of electricity hummed through her. God, but she missed him.

“I’m going to go buy you some clothes before I do something stupid,” she said, slipping out of his arms.

“Define ‘something stupid’?” he asked, his eyes glittering in the fluorescent light.

“Stupid as in lifting up that all too sexy hospital gown and riding you off into the sunset.”

“Oh, I definitely think we should do something stupid.” She scooted off the bed before he could grab her. “Not funny,” he said.

“It’s a little funny.”

He lifted said hospital gown, revealing a very healthy erection. Nicole’s body ached for him. She released a shuddering breath. “We can’t, honey.”

“First I lose a limb and now you’re going to leave me like this? What kind of wife are you?”

She laughed and finished getting dressed. “I’ll be back in a little bit with clothes.” She palmed her wallet and her phone and paused.

“So do you, ah, want to go home right away?” he asked.

She looked up at him, watching his expression carefully. “Do you?”

He glanced down at his bandaged arm. “I don’t know. I mean, we’re already here and we always talked about coming to Europe. I suppose we could travel a little bit before going home?”

She tipped her head and studied him. “Are you up for that?”

“I mean, I’m not skiing the Matterhorn any time soon but there’s no reason why we can’t ride the trains around Germany for the holidays, right?”

There was something in his voice, something that whispered to her that he wasn’t cracking any jokes. She leaned in quickly and kissed him lightly. “I’ll be back in little bit.”

“I’ll be here. Learning a new skill.”

She paused by the door. “Huh?”

“Learning how to masturbate with my left hand.”

She laughed and ducked out of the hospital room before he lured her back to that far-too-tempting bed. He was making jokes.

It was a good sign.

* * *

Carponti stood in the middle of the hospital room in fuzzy new blue sweatpants and t-shirt. The new shoes were rigid on his feet but they’d break in easily enough. It felt strange, being in real clothes again. Even stranger when he forgot to reach for something with his left hand because he kept forgetting that his right was no longer there.

There was a tingling in his phantom limb but he could manage it. He wasn’t due for his medication for a while longer. But the pitch in his stomach had nothing to do with the medication or lack of food.

He was fucking scared. Scared of facing the world and the staring eyes and the stolen glances full of unspoken relief that it wasn’t them.

His wife’s arms came around him from behind and he covered her hands with his one.

“You okay?” she asked. Her voice vibrated through his back.

“Yeah,” he said lightly, hiding the panic twisting inside him. “So it looks like I’m on convalescent leave for, oh, the rest of the year.” He turned and pulled her close. “When do you have to be back at work?”

She tipped her head up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’ve got the greatest boss in the world. She told me to take my time.”

He held her close, loving the feel of her body against his. He brushed his lips against her hair, hoping this celibacy was going to end soon. But it was enough, for now, that she was here and things were as normal as they would ever be again. “So I was serious about going sightseeing around Germany for the holidays. There’s a little town down south called Rothenburg ob der Tauber one of the nurses told me about. Supposedly it’s like this little Christmas village and stuff.” He shrugged. “Since—well, I kind of didn’t make it home for Christmas—maybe this will make up for it.”

She slipped her arms around his neck, brushing her lips against his. “You made it home just fine.”

“Just not in one piece.”

She shook her head, her lips curled in a faint smile. “None of that matters. You’re home. You’re safe. There’s no better gift for Christmas.” She kissed him then and he thought to hell with the doctor’s orders and kissed her back.

He lost himself in the feel and taste of his wife. The beauty of her faith in him and the solid feel of her love.

He had her.

Nothing else mattered.

She eased back.

“I swear to God I’m going to kill the doctor,” Carponti growled, lowering his forehead to hers.

His wife laughed and brushed her nose against his. “You ready to face the world?”

“Not really,” he said honestly. “I’ve already got two strikes against me and now I’m missing a hand. I’ll never be in the cool kids club again.”

She frowned. “I am positive I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m already a ginger kid with a smart mouth. Now I’m short one appendage? Oh yeah, I’m going to be the life of the party,” he mumbled.

She kissed him gently. “You’ll always be the life of the party with me.”

“Hopefully that will be a private party really soon,” he grumbled.

She laughed against his mouth then rested her cheek against his.

Carponti held on to the relief that sighed against his heart.

The Bavarian countryside sped by as the train rolled through the evening. There hadn’t been snow when they’d been further north in Frankfurt, but as they traveled south in Bavaria, snow capped the roofs in traditional German villages and bright Christmas lights illuminated houses against the darkness that fell as they traveled.

Nicole watched the hills roll by, amazed by the pockets of villages and hamlets that dotted the countryside. And trees. There were so many trees. Not miles and miles of suburbs or highways. Just beautiful countryside lit up like a Christmas card. It was nothing like where they lived in the States, with thousands of strip malls that looked exactly the same on every corner.

Beside her, Vic’s head bobbed and he yanked it up.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Lay your head in my lap,” she whispered. “Sleep.”

He didn’t argue. They shifted around so he could keep his bandaged arm elevated and then he rested his head on her thigh. It was a comfortable weight and she ran her fingers over his hair and rested them on his neck. His pulse beat steady and strong beneath her fingertips, in time with the rumbling of the train over the tracks. The rhythm was steady. Comforting.

His hair had grown. It was longer and thicker than she’d ever seen it. He still hadn’t shaved. She’d thought about offering to shave him but hadn’t. She was worried about how to handle his new normal. Did she offer to help? Leave him be? She didn’t know. But she’d gotten slowly used to the idea of her husband and his new beard. He looked rugged and sexy, but she couldn’t tell him that.

He’d try to seduce her in the rail car and while she was always up for an adventure, she didn’t really feel like getting arrested by the
polizei
. Spending Christmas in a German jail was not on her bucket list.