Callan
“I’m so sorry,” the woman in the wheelchair gushed, the look of horror marring her beautiful face as she realized what she’d done.
He tried to smile it off, already feeling awkward enough about being at her house in the first place. Colonel Mara had warned him ahead of time that she was currently mostly confined to a wheelchair as she worked to regain her strength again after a horrific car accident that had broken most of her lower body.
What she hadn’t told him was that the person he was being assigned to was beautiful. Why would she though? That’s not something Colonel Mara looks for. She’s all business.
Callan on the other hand, couldn’t not notice her beauty. The long, gentle curls of her hair as it bobbed freely to just below her chin drew his gaze in, but it was the dimples that formed at the sides of her lively and active mouth that caught his attention the most. They were just so utterly adorable and seemed perfectly suited to this woman.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Though if it’s all right with you, I’d like to use your washroom to clean it off before we go anywhere.”
“Oh.” The horror seemed to multiply at the idea of him coming into the house, but the older woman with the same sort of jovial, bustling personality stepped in, her attitude confirming his suspicions that this was her mother.
“Come now, Kathryn, where are your manners? Of course you can come in, sir.”
“Please, just Callan,” he said politely, flashing the elder Pine—at least he’d gotten that much information ahead of time—a broad smile.
“Right. Well, Kathryn, would you please show Callan to the washroom so he can clean up the peanut butter?”
Blushing so hard he was positive she had to be dying on the inside, Kathryn nodded, unwilling to meet his eyes again after staring at them so intensely at first.
It was a shame, because he’d enjoyed the long look into hers, caught off guard by the truly dark walnut coloring to them. It was unusual to see eyes of such a deep brown like that, almost to the point of being undistinguishable from the irises. He was eager for further looks, wondering just what he might see if he looked deep enough.
As Kathryn turned her wheelchair around, he saw her mother lean over and whisper into her ear. “While he’s in there, I’ll help you get changed fast.”
His dragon hearing let him easily make out the words, and he smiled to himself, following them through the small house to the washroom. Knowing what they intended, and figuring in to the fact that changing was likely not as easy a task as it might have been before her injury, he decided to take extra time washing his hands.
The tap shook and squeaked as he turned it on, sputtering and splashing water everywhere. Callan frowned at that. He’d noticed the house was in rough state, but the pictures on the walls he’d passed showed only smiling, happy faces. Most of them had included a large jovial man, though any male scent he detected was old and musty, ingrained in the walls now but no longer fresh.
Judging by the lack of repair to the place as well, he concluded that the male Pine must have passed away. Taking the time to dry off properly, he finally exited the washroom. Both Kathryn and her mother were waiting in the nearby common room, talking loud enough that he would be able to hear them to know where to go, but not loud enough that he would understand what they were saying.
If he weren’t a dragon.
“I can’t believe you didn’t let me have enough time to change, Mother,” Kathryn was hissing.
“He’s a real looker, isn’t he, honey?”
“Ew, Mom. Don’t talk like that. He’s my nanny.”
“Oh get over yourself. I’m sixty-eight, I’m not dead! I can still appreciate man-candy when I see it, and dear, trust me, I see it.”
“He’s not a candy cane, Mother.”
“No, but if he were I might—”
“If you value our relationship you will not complete that sentence!”
Callan purposely scraped his foot on the uneven floor, warning them that he approached and hopefully sparing Kathryn any more awkwardness with her mother, though he found the elder woman’s enthusiasm to be part of her charm. The floor squeaked loudly under him, and he jumped to the side as it felt saggy.
“Oh that’s fine,” Kathryn’s mother told him with wave of her hand as he looked worriedly at the spot, not sure if he’d broken the floor. “It always makes that noise. Has for years.”
The frown on Kathryn’s face told him that wasn’t the complete truth, but he decided it was best not to get in the middle of any family problems. That wasn’t his job. And since when is being nanny to someone the job of a dragon either? He grimaced mentally. It felt somewhat demeaning to him, but at the same time he’d agreed to it knowing full well what it likely meant.
Callan came to a halt at the edge of the common room, looking back and forth between the two of them, wondering what the hell to do next. He had no training of this sort. All Colonel Mara had told him was to show up and help Kathryn out with whatever it was she needed doing, not including things like using the bathroom, showering, etcetera.
Thankfully Kathryn didn’t seem to enjoy the silence either and took charge by speaking up.
“Did they tell you what happened to me?”
“A car accident. That’s all.”
“No details of the injuries?”
He shook his head, moving to the side as Kathryn’s mother gave them both smiles and excused herself from the room, leaving the two of them there together. Callan glanced over his shoulder at her, but was more than content to be left alone. He leaned carefully against the wall, ensuring it would take his weight.
“Well, I destroyed my hips, they had to entirely replace my right knee, torn ligaments in both legs, and my left foot was almost crushed beyond repair. Several other fractures and a mild case of internal bleeding. All in all, not pleasant. But if you like pain and being unable to do things you’re used to for months upon months after it happens, then I definitely recommend it.”
It was probably supposed to be a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, but by the time she finished speaking her voice had turned bitter and hard. He could see all the pain and frustration that she was keeping bottled up, and wondered just how much longer she would be able to cope without a full breakdown.
Maybe his services would be of help after all.
“That’s terrible.” He had no idea what else to say, suspecting that words of comfort or praise were not wanted at that moment.
“Yeah. It sucks. Big time.” She sighed heavily, shoulders drooping in weariness. “Although it has given me a whole new respect for those people who are permanently confined to wheelchairs or worse. They’re real champions.”
He nodded, unable to truly understand. As a dragon his body would heal from anything that wasn’t a mortal wound.
“Enough about that though.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “Uh, what exactly do you need me to help you with today?”
“I’m feeling surprisingly energetic and refreshed. I think I want to take advantage of that while I can, and go out to the malls and apply for jobs.”
Callan stared at her blankly. “Okay. What do I need to do?”
The dimples returned as she smiled. “Do you drive?”
“No.”
The unimpressed twist to her face hit him harder than he’d expected. Callan knew all about cars; it was part of the orientation he’d undergone at Fort Stark, and finished at Fort Banner. But while he was aware of how they worked and had traveled in them before, learning to drive was not part of the courses.
He decided to tell Colonel Mara that she should probably amend those for the next dragons they were awakening, to make dealing with life in the modern era easier for everyone. After all, he’d received computer tutorials and was now at least able to text and browse the internet on his phone, another amazing invention. But driving a car? That was beyond him. Thankfully though, he was provided with resources to get around.
“I do have access to get us wherever we need,” he said, declining to explain further when she gave him a look asking for more information.
“Okay. Well, let’s go then, shall we?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“The mall?”
“Right.” Callan still had no idea what a mall was. He was hoping that she would give him something a little more specific to go on.
“Let’s try Clinton Heights mall first. It’s closer.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get the car organized.”
“I’ll get my resumes.”
He nodded. The car was still waiting outside, but now he’d bought himself time to furiously look up what a Clinton Heights mall was. It irked him to be an all-powerful dragon who had no idea what the hell he was doing.
And just what were resumes?