Dean was speaking. “I’m adjusting to life in the dark. I fought it as long as I could, believing, you know, in some miracle, some new medical discovery that would give me back my sight. With the help of my wife, I’m ready to accept the truth and move forward with my new reality.”
Cade could well imagine how difficult it had been for the vibrant young man to be cast into the unfamiliar world of complete darkness. From previous sessions, Cade knew Dean had the encouragement and love of his wife. Still, he knew this hadn’t been an easy journey. Dean had struggled hard against the bitterness he felt over his circumstances. This was the turning point for him, and Cade was pleased. He knew the group had been instrumental in helping Dean reach this point.
As was all too often the case, the men and women who were entrusted to love and support those serving in the military couldn’t deal with the new normal. When faced with their loved one’s life changing injuries, unable to adjust to the pressures, they frequently walked away. Dean was one of the fortunate ones. Silas, not so much. He didn’t know about Ricardo or Shelley, as they were relatively new to the group.
Cade had had no one to care if he made the adjustment or not, and that was fine by him. It was his choice. Luke and Jeremy, the two men he’d considered his family, had been killed in battle. Cade had been helpless to stop it. He could do nothing more than watch them die before aid could arrive. He suffered with the guilt of that every single day.
The discussion continued around him. Cade listened but contributed nothing. His mind wasn’t with the group as much as it should have been. He couldn’t stop thinking about Hope. As much as he’d wanted to accept her dinner invitation, he’d turned her down. He had yet to understand what made him refuse the very thing he wanted most. He was messed up in the head. Troubled. Probably best he stayed away from her. If she knew him, really knew him, she’d be smart to run in the opposite direction.
As though sensing Cade was lost in his own thoughts, Harry asked him a direct question. “Cade, how’s Shadow?”
He straightened in his folding metal chair as if he’d been caught speeding and the traffic cop’s lights were flashing in his rearview mirror. “Doing well,” he answered dismissively.
“Shadow?” Ricardo asked.
“A dog from the shelter where I’ve been volunteering,” Cade answered, and then for reasons he wasn’t sure needed to be explained, he added, “Hope is taking him home with her this afternoon.”
Preston had made a point of letting Cade know on his way out of the shelter the day before. Hope’s good news had been on his mind when he’d happened to catch a glimpse of her with her flat tire.
“Who’s Hope?” Ricardo asked.
Harry motioned for Cade to respond. “Shadow’s a dog, and Hope’s another volunteer at the animal shelter.” The words hung in the air as if the others were waiting for more details. Details he wasn’t about to supply. The less said the better.
“A woman?” Silas asked. “Hey, man, have you been holding out on us?”
“No,” Cade said quickly, probably too quickly, and too adamantly. “The thing is, I’m worried about her.”
“Why’s that?” Harry asked.
“I’m afraid she’s in over her head.” Cade briefly explained the circumstances of finding her with the flat tire.
Ricardo shrugged at Cade. “Not your monkey, not your circus, man. We got our own problems. You don’t need to make her troubles your concern. You want my advice, stay away from this chick.”
“He’s right,” Silas said. “Look where playing hero got us. I learned my lesson the hard way. As far as I can see, this teacher friend of yours got herself into this mess, then she can get herself out, without any help from you.”
In theory, Cade agreed, not that it seemed to do any good. “The thing is, I can’t stop thinking about her.” Although he spoke to the group, the comment was directed to Harry, seeking his advice, wanting the counselor he’d come to trust to explain this fascination with Hope.
“Let her go before she drags you down,” Shelley tossed at him. As the only woman in the group, she usually was the quiet one. The one least likely to speak her mind or offer an opinion.
“I wish it was that easy,” Cade admitted. “After I got her a new tire, Hope asked me to dinner. Without even thinking about it, I refused, and then all night I was kicking myself. More than anything, I would have liked to spend that time with her. She’d even cooked my favorite dinner. Pork chops and fried potatoes.”