Page 5 of Many Blessings


  He waved it away with a smile. “No, he does look good. He caught the worst of the blast in his back. That’s why he wears his hair like he does. It hides the scars on the back of his head. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the worst.”

  “What?”

  “The blast left him with PTSD and some memory issues because of a fortunately fairly mild TBI. But once he physically healed, he could live independently, drive, no problems like that. He went back to college. He lived with my parents while he was putting his life back together. I graduated first and went to work for a firm in Tampa. He moved in with me while he was still going to school. He couldn’t afford a car, so he got a motorcycle. And that definitely is my fault.”

  She didn’t ask. She let him spin the tale in his own way.

  “I was going to cosign a car loan for him, but he wouldn’t let me. Said he didn’t want it to get weird between us if something happened and he couldn’t make the payments. A friend of mine was selling a motorcycle, and they met at our house one night. When Brad found out about the motorcycle, he decided that was what he wanted, and he bought it.

  “He loved that thing. It was an older Harley. He wore a helmet, jacket, gloves, everything. All the safety gear. And he loved it. Rode it in all sorts of weather. He graduated college and law school and I got him into the firm I worked for. He finally got a car, but he kept the bike to ride on weekends. He still had issues with PTSD, and sometimes his memory, but the memory stuff he learned to work around by training himself to take notes about everything and keep them in his phone and on the computer. Unless you knew what he’d been through, you never would have known he had any problems.”

  A deep sadness enveloped him, like a dark cloak around his aura. “Everything comes full circle, you know? It was my turn to stop for groceries on the way home one night nearly four years ago. I forgot. I’d been in court all day and I was exhausted and I just…forgot. We were out of milk, so he said no problem, he’d go get it. He grabbed the motorcycle, because he hadn’t ridden in a couple of weeks.”

  She watched his chest hitch. “I got a visit an hour later from FHP doing a next-of-kin search. Drunk driver hit him as he was leaving the store. Pulled right out in front of him. He spent nearly nine months in the hospital. Months in a rehab center after that. They said because of the original injury, it probably did more damage than it would have. He spent months relearning how to walk. Months of PT and OT. That’s where the art started. They found out he did better when they put something in his hands to draw with and gave him something to copy. He’d never been into art before, but it was like this sudden Rain Man thing. He loved it and started creating his own stuff. And now…now he’s my responsibility.”

  “None of what happened was your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. It’s my fault he went into the military. I should have spent more time with him in college, and I never should have suggested he enlist. That makes it my fault he got hurt there. It’s my fault he got the motorcycle, and my fault he got hit because I forgot to go to the store.”

  She suspected Ellis was the truly wounded one of the pair but kept her mouth shut on that opinion.

  “So I take care of him. We found out who our true friends were when it happened. People suddenly didn’t have time to help out, to come sit with him when I had to go to the store and the nurse had left for the day, or they complained when I couldn’t go out to party and leave him home alone. I ended up leaving the firm and went to work for a friend of mine for a while at his private family law practice. Brad had me court-appointed as his caretaker because he just couldn’t keep track of everything while he was healing. I sued the crap out of the driver and the insurance company for him.

  “The settlement was enough we could leave Tampa. I wanted to be somewhere close enough to easily get to the VA for his appointments, but far enough from the past. He can’t practice law anymore. The knowledge is there, but he can’t focus, can’t handle the long hours in court. He didn’t want to be around all those people and places anymore. That’s when I found the house here in town that I turned into my office, and the house we bought for us. He’s good with tools and his hands. It’s like the art, he just has a knack for it now. We wanted something large enough that on the off chance we found two unicorns willing to put up with us, we wouldn’t be crowded.” He smiled, and she smiled with him.

  “Now, I run my law firm and he sells his artwork.” He let out a sad laugh. “I should say I sell his artwork for him. He’s not incompetent. He’s really not. Occasionally he has seizures. Not bad ones, but I don’t let him drive even though he still has his driver’s license. I didn’t have the heart to have it revoked and I trust him not to drive. He hasn’t had a seizure in over a year now. He just…doesn’t care about the details anymore.” He scrubbed at his face. “I mean, he’s like a child in some ways. It’s like all the cynicism and inherent caution you and I might feel about life is gone. Vanished.”

  “That sounds like a blessing.”

  “In some ways, it is. I think it’s what makes his artwork so beautiful. But it also puts him in danger. He could easily get taken advantage of. He can bathe and feed himself and all of that. He picks up after himself. Hell, he’s amazing with the renovation work. He could live alone if he wanted to. But he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to. He has no street smarts anymore. Two years ago, a woman tried to sucker him into marrying her. She was after his money. Then I put everything into a trust for him and when he told her he wanted me to stay on as the trustee to manage it and she couldn’t access the funds, she dumped him.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  He nodded. “Want to know the worst part?” He let out a sad laugh. “Brad told me after she left him that he knew from the start she was only after his money, but he hoped he was wrong.”

  “Poor guy. Now I get the joke he made about rehabbing.”

  Ellis sadly smiled as he nodded. “So we’re two bachelors. I haven’t had time for a social life, but the few times I’ve met women who might show an interest in me, when I tell them up front that I’m a package deal, they bolt.”

  “What?”

  He laughed. “Oh, I don’t mean like that. But I swore when he came home alive the first time that I would spend my life making it up to him.” Agonizing sadness crept into his tone. “When I stood in the ICU after his accident, I swore never again would I put anyone ahead of him in my life. Not even me. If he’d just wake up and live, I’d spend my life making sure he was taken care of.” He pursed his lips as if trying to hold back tears. “I suspect I won’t ever find a woman able to deal with never being first in my life.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “Again, it comes back to thank you for humoring him. I’m happy to pay whatever fee you want for your time.”

  She shook her head. “No fee. We don’t charge for this. If you want to buy the house cleansing kit at the end for the ritual, that’s like thirty dollars. We don’t charge for that unless you want and are able to pay. Julie insisted what we do with the home investigations, we do it to help people, not for profit. I won’t change that.”

  He nodded, suddenly looking choked up. “She seemed like a really nice lady. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her better.”

  “Thank you.”

  A momentary silence enveloped the room. “So here’s why I gave you the long version,” he said. “The reason we were down at the VA is because I think he’s having problems. I honestly think what he’s going through is a new neurological symptom. But they tested him, MRIs and studies and stuff I don’t even know what they were, and said he’s not any worse than he was the last time he had a thorough physical.

  “I also need to be honest with you that I don’t believe in…this. In all the metaphysical stuff. I’m a lawyer. I believe in facts. The fact is, Brad has had two traumatic brain injuries. The first far milder than the second. I believe what he’s experiencing now is a manifestation of something going on in his brain. I also believe he believes it’s supernatural
. So I’m more than willing to do whatever you need to do, to go through the motions, for him. I’m hoping that it helps him deal with it so I can get him to focus more on the medical end of things.”

  She nodded. “I understand. I appreciate your honesty.”

  He shrugged. “I just want you to know what’s going on. Some people who don’t know Brad, if they catch him on a bad day, when he’s wound up in his work, or upset, or stressed, they might think he’s crazy or on drugs or…you know.”

  She nodded.

  “But he’s not any of those things. He’s just…different now. Special. There are plenty of days you see him, he’s as normal as you or me. And he has long stretches like that. But sometimes, when he gets upset like today, it can set him back while he tries to process it. He really took to Julie. I could tell she liked him, too. He has a way with people like that. When she shook hands with him the other day, it was like her whole face lit up. He’s special. He’s special in a good way. The best part is he has no idea how special in a good way he really is. His artwork can bring people to tears it’s so beautiful. It’s like the accident took stuff away, but it allowed him to tap into a primal part of his brain the rest of us can’t access. He doesn’t censor his art.”

  “The activity he’s talking about, it started after you started living at the house, not before?”

  He nodded. “It’s gotten worse the past couple of weeks. Well, he says it’s gotten worse. Like I said, I haven’t experienced it. I’m usually not home during the day unless I run home for lunch.”

  “Please don’t take offense at what I’m about to ask. But could he be lying about it? Making it up?”

  “No.” He wore a wry smile. “One of the ‘wonderful’ quirks we discovered about Brad’s new brain, as we like to call it, is his incapacity to lie. If you told him to tell you a lie, like lie about his name or whatever, he can’t. That’s why I know he thinks he is experiencing stuff. But he also knows if I can prove to him there isn’t any supernatural basis for what he’s experiencing, he’ll completely submit to more testing.”

  “Another reason he can’t be a lawyer?”

  That earned her an honest, amused smile. “Yes, you could say that. Believe me, he already has.”

  She turned the notepad around and handed him the pen. “Please give me all your information. Address, phone number, e-mail address, that stuff. I need to get through the next couple of days and…this weekend.” She swallowed back tears that wanted to flow. For a few blessed minutes, she’d had respite from her crushing grief. “We’re having a tree planting in Julie’s memory over at the library on Saturday at noon, if you’d like to join us. I’ll have to look at the schedule, but maybe we can get together at your house next Monday evening?”

  He nodded as he wrote. “And Brad’s not dangerous. He’s a very gentle man. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to scare you about him. If you need access to the house and I can’t be there because of work, you’re perfectly safe with Brad.” He put down the pen after he finished writing. “Others are more dangerous to him. The sad thing is, he knows it, but he’d still let it happen.”

  Chapter Four

  Brad stared out the window as they headed home. He’d had a nice conversation with Julie while waiting for Ellis to finish talking with Mandaline.

  Ellis really liked Mandaline. Was attracted to her. Brad actually felt glad about that, because he was attracted to Mandaline, too.

  Julie was really happy about that. She’d told him so.

  “You told Mandaline you think what’s happening isn’t real,” he said to Ellis.

  He heard Ellis sigh next to him. “Buddy, I know you believe it’s real. That’s what matters.”

  Brad held back his laugh. “But you don’t believe it’s real.”

  Poor Ellis. How Ellis never lost his patience with him, he didn’t know. But he loved him for it. “All that I care about,” Ellis said, “is that you think it’s real. We have a deal, though. Right?”

  Brad nodded, still staring out the window. “If she doesn’t find anything, I go back to the VA for more tests.” He finally pulled his gaze from the window and looked at Ellis. “You won’t let them lock me up, will you?” he quietly asked.

  Ellis shook his head. “Never. We have a deal.” He reached over and patted Brad on the leg, but didn’t take his eyes from the road. “I told you, we’re a team. Death do us part.”

  Brad nodded and had to look back out the window to conceal his smile at the sound of Julie’s laugh. He didn’t want Ellis to ask him what was so funny. Then he’d have to tell him about Julie. That he’d been talking to her since the afternoon she’d died.

  That might make Ellis reconsider their deal.

  He didn’t understand why he couldn’t lie or keep secrets anymore. Not that he’d been a sociopath or anything…before. But poor Mom and Dad, they’d learned not to ask innocent questions like, “Does this look okay?” or “Do I look fat in this?”

  It was like he had to sit back and listen to his own answer.

  That frustrated him. He didn’t want to lie, per se, but he didn’t want to hurt people’s feelings. He couldn’t even tell little white fibs to make people happy. And trying to deflect answering a question usually made people want him to answer it that much more.

  If Ellis saw him smiling and asked him what was so funny, he’d have to tell him about Julie.

  He’d also have to tell him why Julie was laughing so hard.

  Ellis would never believe that they’d found their unicorn. A unicorn, a woman perfect for them both. At least, that was what Julie said.

  And he suspected Julie wouldn’t lie to him. No, not at all. Because she loved Mandaline and wanted her to be happy.

  * * * *

  Ellis shut the car off and stared at the house.

  “Are you coming in?” Brad asked.

  “Yeah, buddy. I just need a minute.”

  “Are you upset that Julie died?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  “She was nice.”

  “Yeah. She really took a shine to you.”

  “I like Mandaline.”

  “I like her, too.”

  Ellis hoped he wouldn’t have to order Brad to leave him alone. He hated doing it and always felt guilty about it, even though Brad had said he didn’t mind and even admitted that sometimes he needed the direct order.

  Brad opened his car door, much to Ellis’ relief. He swung his legs out and sat there for a moment, staring at the ground. “Can we go to the tree planting on Saturday?” Brad asked.

  “Sure, buddy.”

  “Okay.” He got out, closed the door behind him, and headed to the house.

  Ellis put his head back against the seat and blew out a long breath. He watched as Brad unlocked the side door they used most and headed inside. He held his breath, but the alarm didn’t go off.

  Brad managed to set it off while arming or disarming it an average of once a week.

  Did I tell him about the tree planting? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t think he had. Then again, maybe one of the other employees had. When he’d followed Mandaline out of the private room, he’d found Brad standing by Julie’s urn and staring at it.

  No, without a doubt he knew Brad thought what he was experiencing was absolutely real. Thank god Mandaline was willing to help get them through this. The faster they did, the faster he could talk to Brad’s doctors and try to get to the root of his problems. He hated the thought of having to put him on more medication. Right now, Brad took an anticonvulsant and that was it. He’d been on a lot of meds early on after the accident. Ellis worried that if Brad needed any drugs for what he was experiencing now that it could mess with his art.

  And Ellis wanted to avoid that at all costs. No, Brad didn’t take any interest in the marketing of it, and that was fine. He’d happily handle that for him.

  The look on Brad’s face when he’d surprised him with the trip to Miami, to the gallery hosting the show, had been priceles
s. And the joy on Brad’s features as person after person came up to him and praised his work…

  Hell, he could die happy, and he wasn’t even the artist.

  Brad liked that he could make people happy, make them smile. The money was irrelevant to either of them. Between the settlement, Brad’s VA benefits, and Ellis’ law firm, they didn’t need the sales of the artwork. Ellis put the money from the art sales into the trust. If Brad wanted to use it for the renovation, they could dip into it as needed. But Ellis wanted to build as large a nest egg for his friend as possible. In case something ever happened to him, and he couldn’t be there to take care of Brad.

  Brad had fallen in love with the house while they were making their initial tour of Brooksville. While Ellis had serious misgivings about it, he’d relented because it was the first thing Brad had acted really passionate about other than his art since the accident.

  But…it needed a lot of work. Brad spent a few hours almost every day pecking away at it. Once the plumbers and electricians had taken care of their parts, Brad wanted to do the rest. Ellis had put his foot down about what would eventually be the guest bathroom, calling in a contractor to finish the second-floor bathroom so they could move in. And the central heat and AC systems.

  It had four bedrooms, including a master bedroom with an en suite. A second bathroom upstairs, the one that was now finished, and a powder room downstairs. Brad had claimed the attic as his studio, where they would eventually add yet another bathroom. With a new roof, and plenty of insulation, the AC kept it a comfortable temperature.

  And Brad seemed content.

  For his part, he was sick of washing dishes in a mop sink in the utility room because Brad couldn’t decide between an old country kitchen scheme or a modern look with granite countertops. They had an electric range oven, which sat unplugged in one corner of the kitchen, and the fridge sat in the hallway, plugged into an extension cord. They cooked with an electric skillet, a hotplate, a toaster oven, and a microwave.