Chapter 1 Coming Home
"I don't need that you know," Hardcastle said to McCormick as Mark pulled the car door open and placed the walker within easy reach.
"Humor me judge, at least until we get inside," Mark answered firmly.
He watched as Hardcastle eased himself slowly out of the truck and closed the door. Then reluctantly, he took hold of the walker and started for the front steps.
"I'm fine, you can see that," he said.
"I know, just humor me," Mark repeated.
"This is for people who can't walk, my legs are fine you know."
"I know."
Hardcastle paused at the bottom of the steps to catch his breath. They looked like more of a challenge than he had anticipated. One thing he hadn't counted on was how weak he felt after 3 weeks in the hospital. "Can't even use it on the stairs," he complained as he handed the walker to McCormick.
Mark pulled the walker away and handed him a cane. "Rest for as long as you need to."
They stood quietly for a moment and Hardcastle looked around. "It feels good to be outside."
Mark smiled, "yeah, you've been inside for too long."
The judge nodded and started up the steps slowly. Mark walked beside him, ready to lend a hand, but he seemed to be doing fine. Once at the top, Mark unlocked the door and held it open.
Milt Hardcastle liked to think he didn't surprise easily. That he could anticipate things before they happened because of his work as a cop and a judge. He had seen a lot of life, had even fought in a war. But once he was through the doorway and inside the house, he was unprepared for how suddenly weak he felt. He was grateful for the walker Mark put in front of him and saw the chair just inside the door as a Godsend. He sat down, breathing hard, Mark's grip on his arm like a vice.
"Just sit and rest," Mark's voice cut into his fuzzy thoughts.
He might have fallen if Mark hadn't been there. The realization was a shock. And who had put a chair right inside the door? The ache in his chest flared up and he reached up and rubbed it.
"You okay?" Mark asked worriedly after a few moments.
"Course I'm okay!" Hardcastle groused, and tried to stand up again.
"Oh no you don't! Rests are at least 5 minutes. Nurse's orders."
"What? Is that what you've been talking to the nurses about the past few days? Trying to get some rules to run my life by?"
"You got it judge, and you have to follow them or I'll take you back to the hospital, I swear," Mark answered firmly.
"I thought you were trying to get a date with one of em."
Mark chuckled, "Well, some of that too. A guy's gotta take his opportunities as they come up you know."
"Can I get up now?" Hardcastle growled.
Mark reached down for his pulse.
"You've got to be kidding!"
"Be quiet so I can count."
Hardcastle rolled his eyes and shook his head. But, though he'd never tell McCormick, he was grateful for the help and touched by Mark's concern, especially at the moment when his recent weakness was foremost in his mind.
"Okay, next stop is the back bedroom," Mark ordered and the judge stood up and made his way as he was told.
He settled himself on the bed without help and closed his eyes, surprised by how tired he felt from the exertion of the ride home and walking into the house. He felt a blanket covering him and knew McCormick was at it again but he was too tired to yell at him. He appreciated the blanket, but he let the kid think he had fallen asleep already so he didn't have to acknowledge it and say thank you.
As he lay quietly, Milt reflected that his recovery was going to be a strange reversal of roles. Suddenly McCormick was in charge, and with him feeling so weak, really, Mark could do whatever he wanted and Milt would either never know, or not be able to stop him. It was a good thing he trusted the ex con. So many of his friends had told him to hire someone to stay with him or go into a rehab hospital for a short stay. They thought McCormick would take advantage of the situation and either rob him blind or ignore him to make him pay for sending him to prison 4 years ago. They didn't seem to realize he'd had a key to the house practically since the beginning and he had somehow changed from the ex con who hated him into a friend. He'd tried to tell anyone who would listen that Mark McCormick would never do any of those things, but most people had told him he was a crazy old fool.
H&M
Mark spread the blanket over the judge, glad he had pumped the discharge nurse for as much information as he could get. It was she who had suggested placing a chair just inside the door for when they first arrived home, and that chair had really helped. He would also be putting some chairs in different places around the house in case the judge suddenly felt weak while he was moving around. Karen had told him that people like Hardcastle would tend to push themselves and needed to be protected from over exertion. A few strategically placed chairs could give him places to rest without drawing any extra attention to the fact that he might have miscalculated what he was strong enough to do.
Mark walked into the kitchen to start making lunch and again glanced at the discharge instructions and his notes. Things were going according to plan so far. The first day would be the hardest, and every day after that would be a bit easier. His goal right now was just to get through the first day.
H&M
"Lunch's ready," Mark announced as he re-entered the back room. The judge was already sitting on the side of the bed.
"That part of the plan too?" he asked, motioning to the roll away bed against the far wall.
"Just following orders judge, like you are," Mark returned evenly. When the judge just gave a "hmph" and stood up, Mark smiled to himself. This had been what he'd been worried about most. He was glad the judge seemed to accept the new rules with some grace. It made it so much easier.
Mark slid the walker in front of him and Milt sighed as he took it.
"It won't be like this for long, so don't get any ideas about slacking off on your chores to hover over me all day."
"I'm not gonna slack off on anything, as long as you follow the rules judge."
"We'll see," Milt answered as he started for the kitchen.
H&M
Milton C. Hardcastle finished the meal and sat back contentedly. He hadn't eaten that much at any meal during his entire hospital stay. He watched Mark gather the dishes and bring them to the sink. Who would have ever thought that the ex con he'd hired to do his yard work and help him catch criminals would have turned out to be such an amazing person. The first time he'd been in his court, the kid had been angry, hostile even. The second time he hadn't seemed quite so angry, but angry nevertheless. Milt had thought that Mark hated him, and maybe he had in the beginning. But, never in a million years would he have predicted that 18 months later, Mark would want to be waiting on him, hand and foot, and willingly doing dishes or anything else that needed doing. He'd said right up front that they weren't supposed to be buddies when they began their partnership. But, against all odds, they had become friends, best friends even, maybe even like family, though none of these sentiments had ever been expressed out loud.
"I'll be in the den," Hardcastle said as he started to rise.
Mark turn away from the sink to watch him stand, then followed him out into the hall and the den.
"Are you going to follow me around from now on?" Hardcastle said, annoyed.
"Yep."
Once he was settled behind his desk he spoke again, "okay, I'm sitting down now, so you can go back to the dishes."
Mark picked up a bell from the corner of the desk and put it down in front of the judge.
"What is this?" Hardcastle bellowed.
"Ring it if you want to get up or if you want me for anything."
Silence.
"McCormick, this is ridiculous."
"Just one of the rules judge, remember, we're both following the rules," Mark answered.
Milt rolled his eyes and shook his head. This would get old very fast.
"You can't expect me to ring a bell every time I move."
"Hey, I'm just trying to get through the first day out of the hospital judge, just like you. Now I'm gonna do the dishes and clean up a little."
Hardcastle made a sound that sounded like a growl.
"I expect you to use that bell," McCormick said over his shoulder on the way out of the den.