Chapter 5

Friday morning was spent, thanks to another Marcy contact, in the hands of a tailor. He was measured and poked, prodded and posed for almost two hours by the time it was done. The tailor and his assistant took four shirts, four sets of slacks and two jackets with them for alterations. He ordered three good suits and a dozen shirts and slacks with the new sizes.

The biggest problem turned out to not be the legs or even the sleeve, but the jackets. Men’s jackets were designed with the standing man in mind. The lower hem was designed to ride lower than, say, a waistcoat. Doug didn’t want the rumpled look that was inevitable when sitting in a full-length suit jacket so, on the advice of the tailor, he was having them shortened so that the bottom hem would ride just above the seat of his chair. If he was going to wear a suit, he wanted to look as good as possible doing so.

The tailor had left just minutes before so, when Doug heard a knock on the door, he pulled up the hallway cams on his tablet and was surprised to see the beautiful Lane Parker standing outside his door.

“Ms. Parker? It is very nice to see you again. Won’t you come inside?” Doug rolled backwards, trying not to stare. Lane looked as gorgeous as she’d the previous Friday but, unlike the self-assured woman he’d met, this Lane looked nervous, hesitant.

“I was just going to have a snack, if you would like to join me,” Doug offered, trying to set her at ease. “Maybe I can offer you something to drink?”

Lane smiled hesitantly. “I would love a scotch, but I would settle for some water, thanks.”

Doug settled her in the living room and went to get her water, adding some ice and, just because it struck him as amusing, a thin wedge of lemon on the rim of the glass.

“Ms. Parker, is everything okay? You look uncomfortable,” he asked softly as he handed her the glass.

She fumbled with her purse for a moment, pulling out a small, framed picture and handed it to him. “These are my parents.”

Doug accepted the picture and turned it right-side up. The man in the picture was in a wheelchair, a beefy, track driven model that Doug had lusted after himself. He was dressed in hunting camo and was missing both legs. Next to him was a very pretty older woman, one that looked a lot like Lane herself, and had to be her mother.

Doug stared at the photo for several minutes, his mind awhirl.

“Doug, I know you said that going out to dinner with me wasn’t a good idea, and I think I even know why you said that, though I can’t be sure, of course. My father came back from Viet Nam like you see him there. He’d fallen into a tiger trap filled with punji sticks and by the time they got him to an aid station, the poison had spread too far. Amputating was the only way to save his life.” She paused, digging a tissue from out of her purse and wiping her eyes.

“Years ago, Mom told me about how hard it was for him, that he felt useless and was even, for a time, suicidal. He started drinking heavily and it was only later, when my mother was pregnant with my oldest brother, did he snap out of it and start to think about the future. Dad doesn’t like to talk about Viet Nam, and he definitely doesn’t like to talk about the time after he came home, but I called him when I got back from Hong Kong on Wednesday. I told him about you, and he opened up to me for the first time and talked about that time in his life, about what he was feeling. He said that...” she paused, looking up at him. “He told me that if I liked you, then I shouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Doug didn’t know what to say. He handed her the photo back and wiped his own eyes. “I think I would like a scotch as well.” He said, turning toward the bar along the wall of the living room.

He raised his chair enough to grab two crystal tumblers and poured a splash of Glenlivet in each one, setting his carefully in his lap and holding the other; he turned back and offered it to Lane.

“To old soldiers” he said, clinking his glass to hers.

“To old soldiers,” Lane repeated, studying his face. “The invitation is still open, you know. For dinner.”

“You are ... something else.” Doug said, shaking his head. “Look, you are gorgeous, smart, and successful. You should be looking for someone like yourself, someone who can do the things that you like to do, who can go places. Someone who can dance with you at your wedding; I’m probably going to be stuck in this chair for the rest of my life.”

“So is my father. Was my mother a fool for loving him? Am I,” Lane asked softly, refusing to look away? “Doug, I don’t know what you are going through, I can’t even imagine how hard it must be. You were a soldier, a Ranger for God’s sake, and now you are confined to a chair. My Dad said that he let the chair define him for a long time. It was only when he stopped saying ‘I can’t’ and started saying ‘I can‘ that he started living again.”

Doug was silent, trying to wrap his mind around this woman who was sitting here, looking so vibrant.

“I’m not going away unless you give me a better reason than that wheel chair.” she said, sitting back and crossing her arms.

Doug just couldn’t help but smile.

“So ... dinner. Did you have a place in mind or... ?”

Lane ended up staying for lunch, turkey sandwiches, and chips, and they spent the afternoon just talking, getting to know one another. Dinner time rolled around before they knew it and Doug suggested that they just order in, since going out with his wheelchair was a pain.

“I’ve ordered a special vehicle, full of all kinds of tech gadgets, and if you like, we can go out for a real meal in a couple of weeks.” he explained.

“Good! And when you have your van, you can come to my house and let me cook for you,” Lane said, grinning at him. “I’m so glad you let me stay,” she told him, smiling sweetly.

“I’m glad you didn’t let me say no!” Doug answered, blushing slightly. “You know; all of the women in my life are trying to pry me out of my apartment, so maybe it is time I listened.”

“All the women,” Lane asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You, my sister, and her wife, that’s the sum total.” Doug hurried to add.

“So no competition then. Not that I’m worried, mind you, but a girl likes to know where she stands,” she teased.

The weekend flew by, Doug spending Saturday with Lane and Sunday with the girls. Christine and JJ were ruthless about his new ‘friend’, but Doug knew that they were happy for him.

“So, Dougie ... it isn’t nepotism if the future Mrs. Doug Ramos worked for me before she started dating my brother, is it?” Christine asked in a bored tone. Her sparkling eyes and the smirk on her face gave a lie to the innocence of her question.

“Hmm ... good question, I mean, if we do go further in this relationship. If we get past the friends stage, actually date and, at some distant future time decide to become intimate and even, gasp, get married ... well, it is not as if I’m a pauper who cannot maintain her in the style to which she has become accustomed, now is it? Maybe I could just ask her to quit when I talk to her later. Just give her notice on Monday.” he said, trying to maintain the same, disinterested tone she’d used.

“You asshole! You better not, she is the best damn troubleshooter I have! Don’t make me show her your baby pictures. You remember the ones with you wearing Mom’s high heels?” She glared at me and shook her finger.

“You would too! First, you steal my girl, then you want to sabotage the first real relationship I’ve had in a decade?” My mock outrage knew no bounds! “JJ, back me up here,” I begged, turning to JJ and giving her my best hangdog look.

“You two give me a headache. You really do. You act like you hate each other, and I know for a fact that isn’t true. If I didn’t love the pair of you assholes, I would just steal Lane away from Doug and run away with her.” JJ had her own mock outrage firmly in place. Her glare wasn’t half bad either!

We all exchanged looks and burst into gales of laughter.

“I love you, Chris, even if you are much, much older than I am,” I said obsequiously, once we had regained our breath.

“And I love you, baby brother and someday, when you reach puberty, I’ll hire a girl to show you just how much,” she replied in kind.

JJ just snorted and rolled her eyes, then changed the subject.

“You know, yesterday I was seriously wondering about how I could kick the shit out of you without ruining my relationship with my wife.” She said, shaking her head at me. “When Lane came back into the party after you left, she was ... damn near heartbroken. She’d been looking forward to the party since Chris said she was going to talk you into coming.”

“Ruin our relationship? I would have held him down for you.” Christine said.

JJ jumped up and sat down in my lap, wiggling her butt to get comfortable, and to annoy me, of course.

“But you redeemed yourself. What I want to know, Doug, my buddy, my dearest friend, is how.” She looked expectantly at Doug, and he knew he wasn’t going to get away with feigning ignorance.

“She pulled a JJ. In a very nice way, she told me to get my head out of my ass and take a look around.”

After Chris and JJ quit laughing, Doug continued in a more serious tone.

“Her father is a Viet Nam vet, came home minus both of his legs. Had bad case of PTSD, by the sounds of it, and a really bad case of the blues. His wife stuck with him, and when she got pregnant with the oldest boy, he managed to pull himself back up again and get to work.” He paused for a minute, looking thoughtful. “How could I tell Lane, who grew up with a Disabled Vet for a father, and a wonderful one from what she says, how could I tell her that I felt useless?”