Period of Adjustment Ch. 12-14

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coaster2
coaster2
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And that's how it worked out. We could walk to Orca's office while my car remained in the garage.

By the end of the week, Kayla had a call from her real estate agent telling her that a bidding war had broken out over her townhouse. It was already a hundred thousand over asking price. She was dancing around the room when she heard that. It was one of those rare bursts of emotion that she displayed.

Harold had indoctrination training scheduled for both of us to minimize the use of training resources. He would give both Kayla and me the same schedule and we could work together to absorb it. There was quite a bit of law study required, covering our rights and prohibitions during field assignments. Harold was very unforgiving when it came to obeying the law to the letter. His business success depended upon his ability to work with police agencies and get their full cooperation.

Kayla found the week much easier than I did. She was already familiar with much of the assigned work while in the RCMP, so she could help me when we were reviewing the various sections. She became my tutor, and that was a big benefit to me.

We got to meet a number of the other operatives. Lee Matheson was a specialist in insurance fraud, while the boyish appearance of Pete Dennison allowed him to work in youth environments more easily. He spent a lot of his time on drug usage among teens. Pattie Monahan was one of two women working in the office. She was a specialist in forensic accounting. She would be working closely with several of the staff on commercial theft and fraud.

I had renewed our hold on the hotel suite for another four weeks. Both of us were comfortable in the unit. There was a small kitchen plus the privacy of our own rooms and bathrooms if we felt the need for it. From the first night on, Kayla and I were sleeping in the same bed. It was her choice, and one I heartily embraced. We had slipped into a comfortable relationship that encompassed sex, work, and play.

We were actively looking for a permanent residence, but not with any great sense of urgency. I think Kayla was trying to make up her mind whether we should go in together, or look for two separate places. The longer we delayed a decision, the more it seemed that she was happy with the status quo. It was like a test drive to see if we could make it as a couple. I was in no rush to force a decision.

In the meantime, I had applied for a driver's license and passport in my proper name. I was happy to discover there was no prohibition against my passport being renewed after an eight year gap. I was, once again, Colin Stewart. It was a small but meaningful victory, another step toward restoring my life to something resembling normalcy.

Kayla had been somewhat careful at first, but I felt she had taken charge of our relationship recently. She was enthusiastic about the new job, of course, but after that first sexual encounter, I had let her take the initiative in telling me what she wanted. I was being overly cautious I suppose, but I was more worried that I would spoil what I already had. She must have picked up on that, and decided to lead rather than follow.

As Kayla changed, so did I. I was more optimistic and enthusiastic about my future. As that happened, I began to automatically include Kayla in that future. I was being less selfish and more open about how we might be as a couple. Perhaps even a permanent couple. At least I was allowing myself to think about it. It was almost surprising to me that I was no longer thinking of her as just a beautiful sex object. I was, I had to admit, becoming more emotionally involved, and that caught me off guard.

At the end of the second week, Harold pronounced us fit for duty and we were given our first assignments. Unfortunately, we would be working separately and at opposite ends of the city. I was to work with Lee Stephenson and a retail chain's security force to find out who was helping themselves to some of their inventory from their distribution center, and how they were circumventing the controls. Kayla was teamed with Pattie Monahan on an assignment that looked like an inside job: stealing personal financial information from a lending company.

At the end of that first work week, we were both tired. Perhaps it was the tension of the new job and perhaps it was the culmination of all the effort we had put into the study and qualifications. Whatever, by the weekend, we were very ready to flop. Saturday we did some shopping at the big market on Granville Island, had a light supper, and retired early.

I awoke early on Sunday morning and made coffee, waiting for Kayla to awaken. Neither of us had much ambition on that rainy day, so we just lazed about the apartment. In fact, I went back to bed for an afternoon nap around two o'clock. I woke up a couple of hours later with an arm around my waist and a very beautiful blonde snuggled up to my back. Her soft snoring told me that she was sleeping and I didn't move other than to hold her hand gently in mine.

It gave me some time to think about us and our relationship. It was very important to me that Kayla was happy here. I found I was thinking of her often during the day. I looked for ways to please her. I thought about what I could do to help her or bring her closer. I wondered briefly what I would do if she chose not to stay with me. I simply couldn't get my head around that. I either couldn't, or wouldn't, allow that to happen. It was a matter of capturing her heart by whatever means necessary.

So then, why wasn't I allowing myself to speak the "L" word? I played a children's game as I lay on the bed. It wasn't really a game ... more like a mental exercise, a grown-up version of picking the petals off a daisy. She loves me, she loves me not? Was it a question or a belief? Is that what was holding me back? Was I that unsure of how she felt about me that I couldn't express how I felt about her?

I pulled an imaginary petal off. She's here living with me. She loves me. She won't commit to staying. She loves me not. We have sex regularly and it's great. She loves me. She's never told me how she feels about me. She loves me not. And on and on, the same things in different words. The same answers.

What the hell am I upset about? I've got what I want. A beautiful woman and a job I'm sure I'm going to like. After the shit I've been through in the last months, I should be dancing with joy. What the hell do I have to push things for? Let Kayla make up her mind that I'm the guy for her. All I have to do is prove that it's the right decision. Treat her like a queen and she'll be convinced.

I never realized how insecure I'd become. Why? Did Elise have anything to do with it? I didn't think so. Was I still living with the stink of prison locked into my head? After all, it was eight years of my life, almost a quarter of it. How much had that screwed me up? Did I need psychiatric help? Maybe ... but not right now.

I must have been squirming as I worked these thoughts through my consciousness. Kayla closed her hand around my wrist and squeezed it. Not hard, but enough to let me know she was awake.

"What's got you all upset?" she asked, her voice husky from sleep. "I can feel the tension and restlessness in your body."

I didn't have an answer ready. I shrugged, sort of, reaching back to gently pat her lovely butt. "I'm okay. Just letting my daydreams get the better of me."

She crawled up on my shoulder, hanging her head over it, stroking my temple. "Tell me about your daydreams."

"Just thinking about how crazy my life has been in the last few weeks," I lied.

"Yeah, I can see how that would give you nightmares, not just daydreams."

We were quiet for a while. She stayed where she was, running her fingers lightly through my hair. I had the feeling she was watching me curiously, wondering what had got me so agitated.

"Are you happy, Colin?"

I snorted. "Yeah, crazy happy." I turned my body toward her, wrapping my free arm around her. "How could I not be? You are here. A new start for both of us. Yeah ... I'm happy." I was pretty sure I was telling the truth.

"Me too. I feel the same." Kayla fell silent again, but lowered her head to kiss me. It was a light, soft kiss. I looked into her eyes. She seemed lost in her thoughts.

I pulled her gently back to me for a more lingering kiss. Not intense, but one that tried to pass along to her just how I felt about her. One of these times I was going to find the courage to tell her.

Chapter 14: Hard to Get it Right

When we went back to work on Monday, I returned to the retail company's distribution warehouse. Lee was working in the front office while I was in the warehouse, posing as an employee doing inventory. I had a clipboard, wore safety shoes, a safety vest, and a hard hat, as per the regulations. My role was to see if I could find anything out of the ordinary in my rounds through the big building.

I had already noticed one employee who was watching me carefully, although he was trying not to let on that he was. He was a forklift driver and his job was to move product from the racks to the shipping dock. He was not responsible for moving stock from arriving containers to the racks. On more than one occasion, I noticed him moving product from one rack to another. When I checked later on, the product was no longer in the rack he had transported the stock to. It seemed odd that he would move it from one place to another before moving it out to the shipping dock.

During lunch, I checked with Lee and mentioned the odd procedure. He said he'd check it out for me. I gave him the product and shipping numbers that I had noted on the scan code attached to the pallet. In the meantime, I sat with a number of other men in the lunchroom and carefully tried to draw them out about what they knew about the losses. None of them were willing to admit they knew who was responsible, but I got the impression they knew more than they were willing to tell.

I went back to the warehouse after the lunch hour and resumed my random inventory checks. I had just finished one section and was moving across the main aisle to the next area when a forklift with a large pallet of boxes wheeled around the corner and ran down the aisle toward me. It was in between the yellow safety lines, so I paid it little attention. Quickly, however, out of the corner of my eye, I could see it move to my side, leaving me no room between the racks and the oncoming vehicle.

I had no time to consider my alternatives, and my diving into a partially filled rack was pure reaction. I almost made it. I felt the forklift load hit me and that was the last thing I remembered.

My first recollection was sound, noise really. Beeps and clatter and footsteps and voices, but none of it made any sense. My head felt like someone had been banging on it for hours. It hurt like hell. Then, as I started to take stock of the rest of my body, I realized my head wasn't the only thing that was hurting. My chest felt like a two hundred pound weight was sitting on it. My legs were numb, or so I thought. I couldn't feel my feet.

What the hell had happened and where the hell was I? The memories came back gradually. The warehouse, the clipboard, the forklift. I had been hit by the forklift ... or at least by the load of boxes on the forklift. As my brain began to function, I guessed I was in a hospital. I couldn't move my arms or my legs, and there was something covering my eyes. I could open my eyes, but I couldn't see. It didn't matter anyway. It was painful just to move my eyeballs.

I started to lose my grip once more and the noises stopped. I was having strange dreams. That beautiful blonde was back again. I was sure I knew her. I could almost hear her voice, but ... not quite. It took too much effort to fight the feeling, so I surrendered. I was at peace, I thought. If it weren't for the pain, it wouldn't be too bad.

I came back into that nasty world once more, but this time, the pain wasn't as harsh and the noise wasn't as loud. I could smell something, though. Something familiar. I let myself concentrate on that smell. Nothing else seemed very important. I knew I'd figure it out sooner or later. I discovered that I could move one of my arms. That was good, wasn't it? I touched my face. I wanted to know if I still had one. Stupid! Of course I did. But there was something soft wrapped around my head, covering my eyes. I wanted to take it off. I could see light coming through the bandage, so I wasn't blind.

I started to push the gauze up so that I could see when I felt a hand stop me. It was a soft hand. It had that scent I recognized. I tried to talk, but couldn't. Something was stopping me. Something in my mouth and throat. I heard a voice.

"Colin? Can you hear me?"

It was a soft voice. A woman's voice. I knew that voice. I knew that scent. I wanted to tell her that I heard her, but I couldn't talk. I tried to wave my hand, but she was holding it. I felt something press against my cheek. Something soft, and warm, and damp. It felt wonderful, but it didn't last very long. I was slipping away again. Back into that dream I had been having. That was okay. It wasn't a bad dream.

I woke up again. Was it daytime? I could see light coming through the bandage. I knew I was in a hospital now. I could hear the pages and the soft voices and the beeps of the monitors. My thinking was clearer now. My pain was clearer too. My head didn't hurt as much, but my ribs and hip and thigh hurt like hell. Not screaming pain, but a dull, continuous, throbbing pain.

I lay there, trying to assess my situation. In a hospital? Definitely. Concussion? Likely. Broken ribs? Likely. Fractured hip and maybe femur? Possibly. Tube in my throat? Definitely. Punctured lung? Possibly. If only half this was fact, I was one fucked up cowboy. Who was I? Colin Stewart. Where was I? Vancouver. Okay, relax. Most of your marbles are rolling in the right places.

"Colin?"

It was the lovely soft voice once again. Kayla! I tried to say her name, but it came out something like "Kaaaackkkk." I raised my hand so that at least she knew I could hear her. I felt her soft hand embrace mine and grip it lightly. The warmth of her touch flooded through me and I relaxed. I couldn't see her, but I could feel her and I could smell her. That was enough for now. I fell back asleep.

I was awake and then asleep several times. I wasn't counting. Sometimes I knew Kayla was there, other times she wasn't. Somewhere along the way, they took the covering off my eyes and I could see. It was blurry, but I could see. I don't know when it happened, but they removed the tube from my throat. Thank God for that. My first reward was a glass of water. I had an almost unquenchable thirst, but it hurt to swallow for a while.

Nurses and a doctor would stop in to see me now and then. I was staying awake much longer now. My thinking was clearer now. I knew what I was waiting for. I wanted Kayla. Someone could explain what happened to me at any time, but I wanted Kayla. She must have been at my side almost from the beginning. I wanted her to know how important she was to me.

She came in that morning, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. She looked a bit drawn and I saw dark circles under her eyes. It didn't matter a bit to me. I was just happy to see her.

"Hi," I croaked.

I saw tears forming in her eyes as she leaned in and kissed me softly, but for a nice long time. "Hi. You're getting better. You look better. I was scared, Colin. I was worried I might lose you."

I tried to lighten the mood. "Not me. Too miserable. Too stubborn. Did I do much damage to the forklift?"

She couldn't resist. She laughed. "No ... I don't think so. Oh, Colin, I'm so glad you're going to be all right. The doctor told me you're out of danger. You'll just have to be patient while you mend."

"Hah! That's not me. The 'patient patient?' Ask my mother," I said before remembering. "Well, if she was around, that is."

"Well this time you've got a very understanding nurse. Firm, but fair."

"Very fair. Lovely fair hair. Just seeing you will help me get better all by itself."

She smiled, then bent and kissed me again. "I hope you'll still feel that way when you've recovered."

I learned it was Friday and I'd been in the ICU ward since Monday afternoon. I had a concussion, cuts on my face and eyelids, four cracked ribs, one of which had poked into my lung, deep bruises on my hip and thigh, but luckily, no broken bones. I was going to be very sore for a while, but I would make a full recovery.

They had wrapped the ribs and drained the partially collapsed lung. The bandage on my eyes was to allow the cuts from broken glass to heal on my eyelids. Luckily, there was no damage to my eyes. I must have had them closed when I crashed into a large mirror standing upright in the rack.

I had assorted other bruises on my shoulders, arms and hands from becoming a human projectile. I had no recollection of any of this after seeing the oncoming forklift and its load heading inevitably toward me. Shit! I survive eight years in a maximum security prison without so much as a hangnail. I survive an all out attempt by a hit man. I survive being run down by a lunatic pickup truck driver, only to get taken out by a warehouse forklift driver. Go figure!

They didn't let Kayla stay very long. She told me she'd be back that afternoon. She was on her way to work. I told her to be careful and watch out for runaway forklifts. She didn't think it was funny.

They started feeding me that noon. A tuna salad sandwich, some kind of green, creamy soup, and milk. It was a feast as far as I was concerned. I was surprised I had an appetite. There was still pain, but as long as I didn't squirm or try to breathe deeply, I could remain reasonably comfortable. I was terrified of the idea of coughing or sneezing. I'd cracked a rib early on in my teens and I remembered the pain. Four broken ribs would, I assumed, be four times the pain. No thanks!

I got a nice surprise that afternoon. Both Kayla and Harold came in. He looked relieved to see me conscious and fairly alert. I got another lovely kiss from Kayla and a careful handshake from Harold. I was anxious to know what had happened and he was obliging.

"Got the CCTV discs almost the same day. It weren't no accident, mate. Bugger was gunnin' for you. He's been suspended, but Lee has uncovered what they were up to."

"They?"

"Yeah. The guy on the forklift was the union shop steward, and ironically, the head of the safety committee. We have him banged to rights. He deliberately moved well out of the yellow guides and toward you. It weren't no accident. Lee figured 'e's got partners and we reckon we've sussed it out. Looks like he's in league with the union business agent and a woman in the office. Faking shipping documents off the system so they don't get deducted from inventory. Then a truck shows up, and our clever little friend loads it up with what look like regular shipping orders. The truck leaves and so does the merchandise. Poof!"

"Can we prove it?"

"Bloody right. We're setting them up for the next shipment. The city police fraud blokes will be right with us. Should catch 'em red-handed."

"Thank god this wasn't a wasted effort. In the meantime, my employment didn't last very long, did it?"

"Not to worry, son. Just get better and we'll find you something a little less dangerous for your second job," he laughed. "Looks like you've got a very fine nurse to help you along."

I looked over to Kayla and she was smiling, but I detected something else in her eyes. Worry? Fear? I couldn't be certain, but this wasn't the time to question her.

"Have you been here all along," I asked her.

She nodded, looking to be on the point of tears. I reached for her with my one good arm and she took it, gripping it lightly. I did my best to give her a confident smile. I knew we could find some time to ourselves and talk about what we wanted to say to each other. It was the first time I had seen any real emotion in Kayla and I was curious about what it meant. Perhaps I was hoping what it meant.

coaster2
coaster2
2,589 Followers