“It’ll take more than a minute to explain. Maybe I’ll still be around when your other tables thin out,” he said.
“Maybe,” she answered, walking away from him.
Libby took care of the rest of the customers and when they were done, she bussed their tables and got them cleaned up for the next customers who may wander in.
Once she only had one other table occupied, she looked over at Travis who sat patiently watching her. There was no getting around talking to him. He wasn’t going to go anywhere. Reluctantly she walked over to the kitchen and asked for blackberry cobbler with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
Constance was in the kitchen with Richie, cleaning up behind him as he prepared that night’s dinner menu. “Constance, could you keep an eye on the last table for me? Travis is insisting that we speak for a moment.”
“Sure! I’ll go see if they need anything right now. You take your time,” Constance said, grinning and hurrying to get out of the kitchen and onto the dining room floor.
“You agreed to that real quick,” Libby said.
“Talking to your mate is always important. I’m just cleaning back here anyway.”
“He’s not…” Libby started to object, but Richie cut her off by handing her the cobbler.
“Here you go. Extra large order with two spoons,” Richie said, smiling at her.
“He’s alone,” Libby said.
“Not once you sit down,” Richie said, grinning.
“Ya’ll are incorrigible,” Libby muttered as she took the cobbler and made her way to Travis’s table.
“I thought you might like some cobbler,” she said, placing it in front of him.
“Thanks,” he said, lifting a spoon and digging right in. “You know how I love cobblers,” he said, chewing appreciatively.
“Yes, well. What is it you wanted to tell me about?”
“Scotty floated an idea this morning, and the more I think about it, the more I think it might be something we should try. I wanted your opinion,” Travis said.
“Why?” Libby asked.
Travis looked at her, really looked at her. “Because I value your opinion, Libby. Always have.”
“Since when does what I…” she started, then caught herself. “That’s fine. What’s the idea?” she asked.
“There’s several parts to it. He wants to open a Christmas Village like my parents used to. Offer hot chocolate and cookies, arts and crafts, cut down your own tree. If it snows, build a snowman competitions and even scheduled snowball fights. He even thought of putting up a couple of tables that people could use along with some supplies we make available to them to make their own wreaths, or they could buy some we’ve already made.”
“I think it sounds like a great idea. You should do well with it. Haven’t had anything like it since your parents passed away.”
“Yeah, I think so, too. He thought it would also be a good idea to dedicate an acre or so to pumpkins. Put up some swing sets and pumpkin carving stations and stuff like that for fall of next year.”
“I think that’d be great! Get as much as you can from the holidays.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Why, Travis?” Libby asked, looking him directly in the eye.
“Because I’m hoping you’ll help me,” he said.
“Help you how?” Libby asked.
“Just, getting it all together. Help us pick out the craft supplies and setup the tables. Show me how to make some wreaths and stuff. Maybe come out on the weekends and help us out if we can pull it off this year at this late stage of the game.”
Libby sat there across from Travis and let her gaze drift off toward the parking lot she could see through the window. When she looked back at him, she’d resolved to stop skirting the issues. It was too tasking not to. “I’m not strong enough for it, Travis.”
“I don’t understand. Is working here and there too much? Is it money? I’d be happy to pay you.”
“No. I’m not strong enough to keep believing that each time you reach out to me will be the time that you remain my friend and not pull away as has become your habit. You made it seem that you were interested in me once more at Maia’s baby shower. I actually started thinking that maybe things would be okay. And as soon as I did, you shut me out — just like you always do.”
“Libs…”
“No, let me finish. I don’t harbor any beliefs that you’ll ever see me as your mate again. But I can’t help but miss the friendship we had before you went overseas. It’s hard on me every time you let me see flashes of that, only to pull it away a week or two later whenever it suits you. I can’t do that anymore.”
Travis sat across from Libby, the love of his life, his mate. And he saw all the pain he’d caused her over the few years he’d been home. There was no excuse for his behavior, but each time he pulled away he honestly thought he was doing what was best for her. “I never meant to hurt you, Libby. Everything I’ve done was a result of my own issues, not you.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier.”
Travis looked down at his hands where he’d folded them neatly on the table in front of him. “Okay,” he said. “Truth. My truth.”
Libby sat quietly and watched him, waiting to see what his explanation would be this time.
“I find it hard to think about you saddled with a male who is less than whole. I find it hard to think about you having to deal with me day in and day out.”
“That’s ridiculous. I loved you, the male in here,” she said, tapping her chest. “That was not based on how many fingers, toes, eyes, or legs you had. It’s your soul that I loved,” she said passionately with a hint of anger to her tone.
“I don’t sleep, Libby. And on the nights I do happen to find a few hours of sleep, I wake screaming from the pain of my leg being amputated, like it’s happening all over again. It’s ghost pains, but they're real. Though the leg is gone, I can still feel the pain. After a day of working around the farm, there’s nothing I can do to stop the throbbing. I massage it the best I can, but it only temporarily alleviates it. There are times I have to get Scotty to help me get out of the shower because the pain is so much that I can’t manage to get out on my own. There are days I rage at the world around me, and there are days I break down and cry until I fucking collapse. I can’t jump up and go to investigate any sound I hear. I can’t protect you like a male should. I can’t fucking walk unless I have this goddamn piece of plastic strapped to my body,” he said, thumping his prosthetic.
“Bullshit. You had no problem helping the Pride fight against Richie’s father. And you had no problem helping Base protect his family.”
“I know that. But it was different,” Travis said, reaching out to grasp her hands in his.
“How was that different?” Libby asked.
“They aren’t you! What if it had been you, and I’d failed?”
“You wouldn’t have.”
“I was afraid. I was so afraid,” he admitted.
“Of what?” Libby asked.
“If you were to be injured as a result of my shortcomings, I’d never forgive myself. Never! You are all that matters to me,” he said. “I’m less than. I’m not the male you loved when we were younger. I’m different. And what was done to me can’t be undone. I’ll never be the male I used to be. I was afraid you’d grow to resent me as much as I resent myself.”