B00CCYP714 EBOK by R. E. Bradshaw

asked.
    Rainey admired John and the way he handled his answer, honestly and directly. “There are no guarantees, it’s major surgery with risks. Mackie is strong and motivated. I see no reason why he would not do well and recover without complications. We will work for that result and deal with any problems, should they arise. That’s the best promise I can give you.”
    “May I talk to him?” Thelma asked.
    “He’s a little groggy, but I’ll walk you back,” John offered, rising to his feet.
    “Thank you, John,” Rainey said, standing, and then uncharacteristically initiated a hug between the two of them.
    He hugged her close and whispered, “He’ll be fine, Rainey. I’ll take care of him.”
    She gave him one more squeeze and whispered back, “I know you will,” before letting him go.
    He smiled and turned to Thelma. “Let’s go see how your husband is feeling.”
    She had taken a few steps with John, before Thelma turned back to Rainey. “You come, too. He’ll want to see you.”
    She waited outside in the hall, while Thelma spoke to Mackie. Theirs was a childless marriage, so it had been just the two of them for over thirty years. They spread their love among nieces and nephews, and of course Rainey and Billy Bell, and Ernie, too. They were all one conglomerated family, but the love was strong. Rainey hugged Thelma when she came out of the room. She reassured her that Mackie would make the changes in his life to keep him around for a long time, at gunpoint if necessary. Rainey knew this day was coming. The playful sparring she did with Mackie about his eating habits and lack of exercise were rooted in true concern for his wellbeing. There would be no more joking.
    John walked Thelma back to the waiting area, while Rainey slipped into Mackie’s room for her moment with him. A pretty little nurse smiled and excused herself to check on another patient, leaving Rainey and Mackie alone. Upon stepping up to his bedside, Rainey was struck by how fragile and vulnerable Mackie appeared. It was the first time in her life she perceived him as anything other than invincible. Monitors blipped and bleeped, tubes and IVs extended from his body, which was barely contained on the trauma gurney. His eyes were closed, and she hesitated to wake him, but she was haunted by a memory that would not allow her to let him sleep.
    Rainey was never able to tell her father good-bye. He was there one day and gone the next, no warning, no chance for her to say, “Hey Dad, thank you for loving me. Thank you for believing in me.” Her father knew she loved him, but she never told him how much his fighting for her had meant. She was never able to tell him that he saved her. It was the will to live he instilled in her that got her through the darkest days of her life. Mackie had been there, too. Rainey would not let the moment pass this time.
    “Hey, big man,” she said softly.
    Mackie’s eyes fluttered open. A breathy, “Hey,” rumbled from his chest.
    “Don’t try to talk, just listen. You are going to come through this, just like every other near death experience you’ve faced.” She smiled down at him. “I guess you went about as near death as you’d care to, so you and I are going to start running the trails again, out at the lake. Like we used to when I first moved out there with Dad.”
    Mackie coughed, about to say something, but Rainey stopped him.
    “Shh, we will walk them at first, but you’re getting healthy again, no arguments—and no more fried food, period.”
    “Rain—” he started to say.
    “Stop trying to talk. Let me say this. I love you. You have always been there for me. Always. I could have given up a few years ago, but you wouldn’t let me. I’m going to be here for you now. You are very important to me, Katie, the kids, but mostly me.” Rainey smiled and sniffled, unaware that she had started to cry. She laughed to cover the emotion, and said, “Unfortunately, your job watching my back is