“Mason? Where are you?” I asked, unable to see past the four-hundred pound airport attendant who was hovering over me, his pudgy fingers fumbling with my seatbelt as he attempted to buckle me back into my wheelchair.
“Right here, Dad.” Peering through a narrow gap underneath the man’s elbow, I saw my son standing next to the other attendant who had helped me get off the plane.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the buckle click. “Anything else we can do for you, sir?” the attendant asked as he straightened up, breathing heavily. His breath smelled like beef sticks.
“No, thanks. My son can take it from here,” I said, not wanting to make the poor guy get down on the ground to fasten my foot straps. I wasn’t sure he would be able to get up again. “Hey, Mase? Can you please come over here and strap down Daddy’s feet?”
“Sure!” Mason crouched in front of my foot plates, his small fingers pulling the Velcro straps tight over the tops of my tennis shoes. I hated having to rely on my five-year-old, but he always seemed happy to help.
“Thanks, buddy,” I said when he stood up. “Now, I want you to hold on to my handle and walk right next to me so you don’t get lost. This airport’s a lot bigger and busier than Lexington. Actually, I believe it’s the busiest airport in the whole world.”
“The whole world?” Mason repeated, his eyes widening.
“Yeah. So you need to stay with me until we see Natalie. Got it?” I gave him a piercing look, trying to infuse him with a healthy dose of fear – just enough to make him mind me during the long trek from the terminal to baggage claim, where Natalie would be waiting for us. Mason was usually pretty well-behaved, but he was still a little boy. My biggest fear was that he would run off and get snatched by a crazy fan or one of the human traffickers I kept hearing about on the news. Given the fact that it had only been one week since a gunman had walked into Sandy Hook Elementary School and shot twenty first-graders, I felt even more overprotective of him than usual.
Mason nodded solemnly. “Got it.” He moved to my right side, wrapping one hand around the push handle on the back of my chair while the other clutched the handle of his kid-sized carry-on, which he wheeled behind him as we went down the jet bridge.
Over the past two months, I’d taken several solo trips for work, but it was my first time flying alone with my son. I’d never been brave enough – or stupid enough – to attempt it before. Traveling with a small child was no easy feat for any single parent, let alone one without working legs or hands. But now that Mason was a little older, I didn’t need Dawn to change his diapers, push his stroller, or carry his car seat anymore. He walked obediently beside me as I pushed myself through the crowded terminal.
“Do you need to go potty, Mason?” I asked him, spotting a family restroom up ahead.
“No,” he replied automatically, but, after a moment’s hesitation, I pulled him toward it anyway.
“Natalie said it’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive from the airport to her parents’ farm,” I told him, “so we’d both better go now, so we don’t have to stop somewhere along the way.”
“Okay,” he grudgingly agreed.
I breathed a sigh of relief as he followed me into the restroom. In a few minutes, I would be reunited with Natalie, who had invited us to Georgia to celebrate her birthday and an early Christmas with her family. “Dawn’s welcome to come, too, of course,” she had offered, but I’d given Dawn the weekend off to spend time with her own family instead. Now that Natalie felt more comfortable handling my full care routine by herself, I was less dependent on Dawn, which had worked out well for all three of us.
The only one who didn’t seem happy about this arrangement was Mason. “I wish Dawn could come with us,” he said randomly, frowning down at his tablet, which I’d let him take out of his carry-on to keep himself occupied while I finished cathing.
“Well, she could have, but we don’t need her to,” I said, glancing up at him in surprise. “You’re a big boy now, and Natalie knows how to help me with the stuff I can’t do by myself. Dawn deserves a break, don’t you think?”
Mason just shrugged. I suppose he didn’t understand why Dawn would want a break. She had been a part of our family for as far back as he could remember, so it was easy for him to forget the fact that she was technically a paid employee with a family of her own.
“We’ll see Dawn in a few days when we fly home on Christmas Eve,” I reminded him as I carefully removed the catheter, tucking it back inside its packaging before I tossed it into the trash can. “Natalie has to work, so it’ll just be our family for Christmas, like always.” Although I’d been looking forward to meeting Natalie’s family, I was secretly glad Mason and I would still get to spend Christmas at my mom’s house like we had every year since we’d moved back to Lexington.
“Good,” said Mason, going back to his game while I fixed my fly and washed my hands.
When I finally finished, we left the bathroom and made our way to baggage claim, where we found Natalie waiting next to a small pile of luggage she had already pulled off the carousel. “There you are!” she cried happily as I pushed myself over to her. “I was starting to worry they’d lost your wheelchair or something.”
“Nah… I’m just slow,” I said with a grin. “Happy birthday, baby.”
“Thanks!” Beaming, she bent down to kiss me. “I’m so glad I get to spend it with you. Both of you,” she added as she hugged Mason to her side.
“How old are you?” he asked her.
“How old do you think I am?” She raised an eyebrow at him, a little smile playing on her lips.
Mason scrunched up his face as he studied hers. “Umm… forty-five?” he guessed.
Inwardly, I winced. “Not quite, son,” I said quickly, noticing the way Natalie’s eyes widened. “Natalie’s ten years younger than Daddy. She’s turning thirty-one today.”
“Oh.” He shrugged.
Chuckling, I turned to Natalie. “I guess everyone looks old when you’re five,” I said apologetically.
“I’ll try not to be too offended,” she replied with a wink. “To be fair, I did ask.”
“True. That’s your own fault.” While she went to get a luggage rack, I wrapped my arm around Mason and pulled him aside. “A little word of advice, son, from one man to another: Never ask a woman her age. And if she asks you to guess her age, never go above twenty-nine, no matter how old you actually think she is. Twenty-nine – that’s the magic number. Got it?”
Mason nodded seriously.
When Natalie came back, he helped her load our checked bags, his booster seat, and my travel commode onto the luggage rack. “I hope this is all gonna fit in your trunk,” I said apprehensively as we followed her out to the parking lot, remembering how small her car was.
“Oh, don’t worry. Flight attendants are pros at making stuff fit,” Natalie replied, flashing me a playful smile.
I felt bad for bringing so much stuff on a three-day trip, but it was impossible for me to pack light anymore. My medical supplies and adaptive equipment took up more space than Mason’s and my clothing and the few gifts I’d brought. But, somehow, Natalie managed to cram it all into her white Camry, leaving just enough room in the back seat for both Mason and my wheelchair.
By the time she had helped me transfer into her passenger seat, taken the big wheels off my chair, and wedged both of them and the frame into the seat behind me, she was breathing hard. “Told ya I could make it fit,” she joked as she slid behind the wheel. “I always was good at Tetris.”
“What’s Tetris?” Mason wondered from the back seat.
Natalie and I looked at each other and laughed. “Oh, my sweet summer child,” I said, shaking my head as she started the engine. “You have much to learn.”
We pulled out of the parking lot and merged onto I-75, which was congested with a combination of rush hour and holiday traffic.
“We probably picked the worst possible time to land in Atlanta, didn’t we?” I said, looking out the window at the long line of cars ahead of us. “Friday afternoon, four days before Christmas…”
Natalie nodded. “Yup. But I get it – the last day of school before Christmas break was always the best! You didn’t want Mason to miss it.” She glanced up into the rearview mirror. “How was your class party?”
“Good,” Mason replied.
“Tell her what games you played,” I prompted, trying to get him to elaborate. He had talked Dawn’s and my ears off earlier when we picked him up from school, recounting every detail of his Christmas party as she drove us to the airport. But, now that we were with Natalie, he was more reserved.
“Pin the Nose on Rudolph… and we had snowball races.”
“Really? That sounds like fun!” As the traffic crawled forward, Natalie turned to me. “And how was your trip to New York?”
“Fast… but otherwise fine.” I had flown into New York City Tuesday night, taped a performance for Late Night with Jimmy Fallon the next morning, and flown back home Wednesday evening. With it being so close to Christmas, all the guys had been eager to get back to their families – especially AJ, who had a newborn at home.
“Just fine?”
I hesitated, a lump rising in my throat. “I won’t lie – it was hard being back at Rockefeller Plaza and seeing Radio City Music Hall, where I have so many memories of watching Kristin perform. She used to be a Rockette, you know.”
“Really?” Natalie raised her eyebrows. “I did not know that. I knew she was a dancer, but you never told me she was a Rockette.”
“Yeah, she did that for a couple years while the guys and I were recording our first album. I would fly to New York to see her whenever I could,” I said, swallowing hard. “We had a long-distance relationship for a while. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work.”
“Just like us.” Leaving her left hand on the wheel, Natalie reached her right hand across the center console and rested it on my thigh.
“That’s right,” I replied, placing my hand on top of hers. “Speaking of which, how was Johannesburg?” Between her work trip and mine, we had barely talked to each other that week.
“Warm,” she said with a wistful sigh. “The weather was so beautiful there! It was hard to come back to this.” She made a face at the gray sky outside her windshield. It was a blustery day. The temperature on the dashboard read forty-one degrees, but the wind made it feel much colder.
“Yeah, I bet. But, just think, in a few days, you’ll be in…” I paused, trying to remember where she’d told me she would be flying on Christmas Eve. She sent me a copy of her work schedule every month, but even when I could decipher the confusing airport codes, it was difficult to keep track of all her trips.
“Munich,” she finished for me in a flat voice.
“Oh… well, at least it’ll feel festive there,” I said, picturing big, gothic buildings and quaint Bavarian cottages with their sharply-sloped roofs covered in snow, crowded Christmas markets set up in town squares, and bustling beer halls where women in traditional dirndls served steins of beer with warm, soft pretzels and fat, white sausages. I could certainly think of worse places to spend Christmas than a historic European city nestled near the foot of the Alps.
“If, by ‘festive,’ you mean ‘freezing cold,’ then yes, it will,” she replied, flashing me an impish grin.
I just laughed. Natalie didn’t know it yet, but one of the gifts I was going to surprise her with was a romantic getaway to an all-inclusive resort in Jamaica over New Year’s. All I had told her was to request the first week of January off work. “I want us to ring in the new year together,” I’d said after booking the vacation. “It’ll be the five-year anniversary of my accident, and I’d rather spend it making new memories with you than remembering everything I lost that day.” By playing the sympathy card, I knew she wouldn’t be able to say no.
The heavy traffic thinned as we headed south, away from the city. Before long, the tall buildings had been replaced by trees and the electric lights by stars.
“I used to drive this route several times a year when I lived in Orlando,” I told Natalie as we passed a rest stop near Macon. “I couldn’t afford airfare, so I would load up my car and drive home for the holidays. It was easier once Brian moved in with me ‘cause we could ride together, but for the first few years, it was just me driving up and down I-75 by myself – twelve hours each way.”
“That’s a long drive,” she said, making a face. “I’d rather work a twelve-hour flight than drive that far.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t fun. But it was worth it to see my family.”
She nodded. “I get it. I’m glad to be based near mine. And if I don’t feel like driving a couple hours to get to them, I can always hop on a Delta Connections flight to Albany and be there in half that time.”
Natalie’s parents lived just outside a small town called Sylvester. “Welcome to Sylvester, Peanut Capital of the World.” I read the words on a mural painted on the side of an old brick building as we drove down Main Street, passing through a quaint downtown that was lined with little shops and cafes, all decorated for the holidays. It reminded me of Irvine.
“That’s right! Home to the annual Georgia Peanut Festival,” Natalie replied cheerfully.
“The Peanut Festival?” I chuckled, picturing a parade with peanut-themed floats and people walking around in Mr. Peanut costumes. My mouth began to water as I imagined the food that would be sold at a peanut festival: boiled peanuts, honey roasted peanuts, homemade peanut butter and peanut brittle… “That sounds fun, doesn’t it, Mason?” When there was no response, I glanced back to find my son sound asleep in the back seat. No wonder he had been so quiet the last half hour or so.
“It’s a pretty big deal around these parts, lemme tell you,” Natalie said, laughing along with me. “My folks never miss it. My daddy drives his tractor in the parade every year, and my momma has a booth at the festival.”
“When is this festival, and why haven’t I been invited?” I wondered.
“Third weekend in October. I’m pretty sure you were busy packing for your Florida trip, and I was working this year,” she replied apologetically. “But if you seriously wanna go, we can plan on it for next year.”
“I think we should. I mean, I did invite you up for the Lexington Halloween Festival.”
“Better mark your calendar, then, ‘cause it’s a date,” she said, looking over at me with a smile.
I smiled back, taking comfort in the fact that she was planning on the two of us being together ten months from then. I didn’t see any reason why we wouldn’t be. In the eight months we’d been dating, we had managed to work through every issue and insecurity that had caused conflict in our relationship. I had lowered the protective walls I’d built around myself and let her in, allowing her to see me at my most vulnerable. She had looked past the ugly parts of my disability and fallen in love with the person I was on the inside. As we’d grown closer and learned to trust each other, she had gotten over her jealousy, accepting Dawn as a part of my life and embracing Mason and the other members of my family. All that was left was for me to meet her family and hope they would accept me, too.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about meeting Natalie’s parents. But when we finally pulled up to their two-story farmhouse, I saw something that immediately put my mind at ease: a plywood ramp leading up to the large front porch. “They had a ramp built for me?” I said, both surprised and touched by the thoughtful gesture.
Natalie nodded. “My brother-in-law built it himself. He’s a contractor for his dad’s construction company, so he’s pretty handy.”
“That was real nice of him.”
“I asked him to do it,” she admitted as she parked her car in the driveway. “I wasn’t sure how you’d get inside the house otherwise. Every entrance has steps.”
“There is a way to bump my chair backwards up the stairs, but it takes two people to do it safely, and it’s kind of a pain in the ass. This’ll be much easier,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“No problem at all, babe.” She shut off the engine and got out of the car, going around to pull my chair out of the back.
While she was busy putting the big wheels back on, Mason woke up. “Are we there yet?” he asked groggily.
“Yup, buddy, we just got here.” Glancing up at the house, I saw the curtains move in one of the windows. A few moments later, the front door opened, and a man who must have been Natalie’s father stepped out onto the porch. His large frame was silhouetted by the light spilling out behind him, but it was too dark for me to make out his facial features.
“Hey, sweet pea!” I heard him call to Natalie as she opened the passenger door to help me out of her car. “Need a hand?”
“No, thanks, Daddy. We’ve got it,” she replied, positioning my wheelchair next to the door frame.
As she wedged one end of my sliding board underneath me, I noticed more people standing on the porch, watching us. I hated having an audience while I transferred to and from my wheelchair. Even when it went well, it was awkward, and when it didn’t go well, it was downright humiliating.
“You sure y’all don’t need some help?” Natalie’s father asked again as he and the others watched me hoist my upper half across the board like a walrus on land.
Natalie helped with my lower half, lifting my heavy legs out of the car and placing my feet on the foot plates. “We’re fine, Dad!” she called back breathlessly as she reached for the waistband of my pants to reposition me in my chair. “Ready? One, two, three.” On the count of three, she pulled my hips backward, correcting my posture so that I was sitting up straight before she buckled my seatbelt. Then she stood back out of the way, waiting for my legs to stop spasming before she bent down to fasten my foot straps.
When I was finally situated, she straightened up, letting out a sigh of relief. “Let’s leave the gifts in the car for now and go say hi to my family first,” she said. “They can help us unload everything later.”
“Sounds good,” I replied, my nerves returning with a vengeance as I rolled up the walkway leading to the front porch. Natalie stayed right next to me, her hand resting on the back of my chair, while Mason brought up the rear.
The ramp Natalie’s brother-in-law had built was steeper than the ADA guidelines. Natalie had to get behind me and push me to the top because I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own. Still, it was better than nothing.
“Whew!” Natalie exhaled when we reached the front porch, releasing her grip on my push handles. “We made it!” She gave my shoulders an affectionate squeeze as she slipped past me, returning to her place at my side.
“Happy birthday, honey!” A slender woman who had to be Natalie’s mother rushed and wrapped her up in a hug. She had the same shiny, brown hair and eyes, which she turned toward me once she’d let go of Natalie.
“Thanks, Momma. This is Kevin,” Natalie said, slinging her arm around me.
I cleared my throat as I extended my right hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Crawford.”
“I’m delighted to finally meet you, too, dear,” she replied, beaming as she wrapped both of her hands around mine. “And you can call me Bev.”
“It’s about time our daughter brought you down here,” added her father as he stepped forward to shake hands. He hesitated for a second when he saw my closed hand with its curled fingers, but he recovered quickly and reached out to grasp my wrist instead, wringing it firmly. “I’m Bill.” He was big and blond, with blue eyes and the kind of ruddy complexion that came from years of working outside in the sun.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you both,” I said, smiling up at him. “Thanks for having me – and my son, Mason.” I glanced back over my shoulder and motioned for Mason to come out from behind my chair, where he had been hanging back shyly.
As her folks fussed over him, Natalie introduced me to the rest of her family. “This is my big sister, Melinda, but we all call her Mindy.” Her sister looked more like their father, with fair hair and light blue eyes, but she was just as lovely as Natalie. “And this is Mindy’s husband, Doug. He’s the one who built the ramp.”
“Thanks for doing that,” I said to the stocky, red-haired man standing next to Mindy.
“Oh, it was no big deal,” he replied casually. “Always happy to help. It’s good to meet you, man.” As Doug clapped me on the shoulder, I noticed the little boy peeking bashfully out from behind his legs.
“And this is their son, Liam – short for William, like my dad,” Natalie introduced her nephew, who had his mother’s big, blue eyes and father’s bright red hair. “He’s three.”
“Hi, Liam,” I said, smiling at him. “This is my son, Mason. He’s just a couple years older than you.”
“It’s so nice that Liam will finally have someone to play with around here!” Bev said loudly, raising her eyebrows at Mindy. She gave her grandson a nudge forward. “Aren’t you gonna say hi to Aunt Nattie’s new boyfriend?”
“Hi,” Liam mumbled without looking up. His curious gaze seemed to be focused on my wheels rather than my face.
“He’s a little shy,” Natalie said apologetically.
“That’s all right.” I shrugged. “So’s Mason.”
“Do you like cars, Mason?” Mindy asked, squatting down to his level. “Liam brought some of his Hot Wheels to play with while we’re here. He can show you, if you’d like.”
“Yeah!” Mason said with an eager nod.
“What a wonderful idea! C’mon, let’s go inside and get warm,” Bev said, clapping her hands together. “It’s too cold to stand out here chitchatting.” She held the door open for me while I wheeled myself into the house. “Oh dear… I should’ve said ‘stay,’ not ‘stand,’” I heard her whisper to Natalie as she walked in after me. “I hope I didn’t offend him.”
“Oh, hush, Momma. He’s not that sensitive!” Natalie hissed back. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing as she looked at me and rolled her eyes.
While she helped me out of my coat, her father and brother-in-law brought in the presents from her trunk. “Y’all sure did bring a lot of stuff with you,” Bill commented as he walked by, carrying a big box wrapped in shiny red paper. “I thought you were only gonna be here three days.”
“I’m pretty high-maintenance, Bill,” I told him, trying to make a joke out of it. “I don’t know how to pack as light as your daughter does.”
“Well, then, maybe you should let her teach you a thing or two,” he replied, raising an eyebrow at me.
I felt my face redden but forced myself to laugh along with him as I leaned over to pick up the coat Mason had left lying on the hardwood floor when he’d run upstairs to play with Liam.
“Oh, here, dear, let me get that for you!” Bev bent down and scooped it up before I could reach it. “I do wish you were staying here at the house with us,” she said, catching Natalie’s eye as she hung our coats on an old-fashioned coat rack in the corner of the foyer. “It feels strange to have you sleeping in a hotel instead of your old room.”
Natalie let out an impatient sigh. “I told you, Momma, it wouldn’t work,” she said with a pointed look at the wooden staircase.
“We could have fixed up a bed for Kevin in my craft room,” Bev insisted, offering me an indulgent smile. “It would have been no trouble at all.”
Ignoring her, Natalie grabbed hold of my push handles and steered me away from her. “C’mon, Kevin, let me show you around.”
“Don’t take too long!” Bev called after us. “Dinner’s ready! We’ve been keeping it warm for you, but your father’s ready to eat.”
“We’ll just be a few minutes, Momma.” Natalie pushed me past the staircase and down the hall, ducking into a small room at the back of the house. “Sorry about them,” she said in a low voice as she shut the door behind us. “I love my parents dearly, but sometimes, they say the dumbest things.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You were right; I’m really not that sensitive. Honestly, I wouldn’t have even thought to be offended by your mom using the word ‘stand’ in front of me.”
Natalie cringed, clapping her palm to her face. “Ugh, I knew you must have heard that. She was so worried about putting her foot in her mouth that she ended up doing it anyway by taking a harmless comment and turning it into a big deal. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy,” she said, shaking her head. “She and my dad have been so weird about you coming here.”
“Weird how?” I asked with a sinking feeling. “They didn’t want me to come?”
“Oh, no, they wanted you to come! My mom’s been asking me when I was going to bring you down to meet her for months now. She wasn’t kidding when she said she would have made a bed for you here in her craft room,” Natalie said as I looked around. The walls were lined with shelves containing craft supplies in neatly labeled baskets. I noticed a sewing machine set up on a table on one side of the room, which was well-organized but cluttered. There was also a small sitting area with a floor lamp and a worn couch, next to which sat a basket of knitting needles and yarn. “See that couch? It’s a hide-a-bed. She thought you could just sleep on that. I mean, can you even imagine?”
“Wouldn’t the bed basically take up the entire room?” I frowned at the couch, trying to imagine what it would look like when it was unfolded. “How would I fit my chair in here to transfer?”
“Exactly. And she’s forgetting how uncomfortable the thing is. You would probably wake up with pressure sores from the metal bars underneath the mattress digging into your back all night.”
“Ouch.” It was my turn to wince.
“Yeah. Not to mention the fact that none of the bathrooms here are accessible either. But that’s what I’m talking about,” she went on. “My mom and dad mean well, but they’re completely clueless when it comes to your disability. I doubt they know anyone under eighty years old who uses a wheelchair on a daily basis, let alone another quadriplegic. They just don’t understand.”
“Well, there is a pretty steep learning curve that comes with this injury,” I said with a shrug. “It took time for my family to figure things out, too. So cut yours some slack. It’s their first time meeting me. They’re probably just as nervous as I am.”
“Aww, babe, you have nothing to be nervous about,” Natalie reassured me, rubbing my shoulder. “Once they get to know you, they’re gonna love you just as much as I do.”
“I hope you’re right.” After a pause, I added playfully, “You know, I seem to remember you getting all flustered over telling me we should ‘take a walk’ when we first met.” I grinned as I watched her blush.
“Oh, Lord… I almost forgot about that. I was so awkward,” she moaned, burying her face in both hands this time. “I guess Momma and me aren’t so different after all.”
I laughed. “You look just like her.”
“I know. But I don’t wanna be like her,” said Natalie. “She and my daddy are the definition of ‘small-town’ people. They were both born and raised here in Sylvester, and they never left. They were high school sweethearts who got married at nineteen and had my sister at twenty. Neither of them went to college – my dad inherited this house and his family’s peanut farm, and my mom was perfectly content to become a homemaker.”
“Nothing wrong with being a homemaker,” I said with a shrug. “My mom was one, too. It was more common for women in that generation. Of course, your mom’s a lot younger than mine…” Remembering the advice I had given Mason earlier, I knew better than to ask her mother’s exact age – but, based on what Natalie had told me, Bev couldn’t have been much past her mid-fifties. Meanwhile, my own mother was pushing seventy.
“Yes, well, that wasn’t the life I wanted for myself, no matter how much she wishes I would settle down and start pumping out kids,” Natalie replied, shaking her head. “Now that her girls are grown, she’s obsessed with being a grandma. Did you hear what she said to Mindy back there? Something about Liam finally having another kid to play with? That was her dropping a hint that it’s time to have another baby. She’s been hounding Mindy about it for months, asking when she and Doug are gonna give her a granddaughter.”
“Jeez…” I wondered what Natalie’s mother thought about her younger daughter dating a man who might never be able to give her more grandchildren. Would the fact that I already had a child work in my favor, or would she hold it against me? I wanted to ask Natalie how her parents felt about me being a father, but it wasn’t the right time or place to have that conversation.
Instead, I rolled closer to the sewing table, my attention drawn to a set of three framed photos hanging on the wall above it. I recognized Natalie in the one on the right, although she looked younger. She was wearing a sparkly, bubblegum pink ball gown, a silver tiara, and a sash, but I couldn’t make out what it said. “Were you prom queen?” I asked her.
She laughed. “No… I was the Georgia Peanut Queen.”
“The Peanut Queen?” I laughed, too.
“It’s the pageant that goes with the festival I was telling you about, earlier. My momma won it when she was a girl.” Natalie pointed to the center frame, in which a much younger Bev was wearing a flowy, yellow gown. If it hadn’t been for the fact that the photo was obviously from the seventies – her feathered Farrah Fawcett hairstyle was a dead giveaway – I might have mistaken her for Natalie. That was how much they looked alike. “And, then, Mindy won a couple years before I did,” Natalie continued, “so it became sort of a family tradition.”
I smiled as I studied the photo on the left, which showed a teenaged Mindy in a poofy, periwinkle blue dress with equally poofy hair. “Wow… I didn’t know I was dating royalty. What a gorgeous group of women.”
Natalie giggled again.
Clearing my throat, I added, “Speaking of your family, we’d probably better go back out there and finish our tour, babe. I don’t want them to think we’re being rude by hiding out in here.”
Her smile faded. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said with a sigh, reaching for the doorknob.
I followed her out of the craft room and up the hall, taking time to look at the framed family photos that lined the walls. “Is that you?” I asked, flinging my fist toward a school portrait of a little, brown-eyed girl with a wide, gap-toothed grin.
Looking back, Natalie laughed and nodded. “That’s me all right. I was in kindergarten, if I remember correctly.”
“You were Mason’s age.” I smiled, marveling over the passing of time. As I wheeled myself slowly along the wall, I watched that adorable little girl grow into the pretty young woman who had been Peanut Queen. A lump rose in my throat as I realized how fast it happened. In another fifteen years, my little boy would be a full-grown man.
I swallowed hard, letting Natalie show me around the rest of the main level. She led me through a cozy living room, where her dad was drinking beer and watching a college basketball game with Doug.
“What’s the score?” I wondered, squinting at the flatscreen TV that was mounted above a handsome brick fireplace. A set of matching stockings hung from the mantel, which was decorated with candlesticks nestled between festive boughs of holly.
“Sixty-four to twenty-nine, Hoosiers,” said Bill from his recliner, setting his can of Bud Light down on a side table that held a lamp and a large snowglobe. “Want a beer, Kevin?”
“Thanks, but I’d better finish my tour first,” I replied, not wanting to risk bumping into something and spilling my beer. The hardwood floors were easy enough for me to roll over, but the rest of the house hadn’t been designed with a wheelchair user in mind. There were rugs in every room and so much furniture to maneuver around. I wheeled myself carefully around the console table behind the couch, where a ceramic nativity scene had been set up, and past an antique-looking curio cabinet, which was full of porcelain Precious Moments figurines, as we continued into a large kitchen. “That’s quite a collection you have in there,” I told Natalie’s mom, who stood at the stove, stirring a huge pot of something. “Your Precious Moments, I mean.”
“Why, thank you!” Bev turned around, beaming at me. “I’ve been collecting them for over thirty years now.”
“Wow.” Personally, I’d never understood the appeal of Precious Moments. I found the pastel-painted figurines, with their sad, teardrop-shaped eyes and soppy expressions, off-putting. But I knew better than to share my honest opinion of them with Bev, who was obviously a big fan of them. “So, what’s for dinner?” I asked her instead as she returned her attention to the stove.
“My homemade potato soup,” she replied, tapping her spoon on the side of the pot. “It’s been Natalie’s favorite since she was small. I make it every year for her birthday.”
“That sounds amazing.” I smiled at Natalie, picturing the little girl from the school portrait slurping soup between the gap in her teeth. “I can’t wait to taste it.”
“It is amazing,” she said, smiling back at me as she hugged her mom from behind. “My momma’s the best cook. Unfortunately, I didn’t inherit that ability from her.”
“Now, Natalie Ann, if you would just put some effort into it, you could be a fine cook!” Bev chided her. “You never cared enough to learn. But, someday, you’re gonna have a husband and kids of your own to cook for, and you’ll wish you had paid more attention when I tried to teach you how.”
“We’ll see,” Natalie replied dismissively. She caught my eye behind her mother’s back and made a face, as if to say, See what I mean?
We ended up in the dining room, where the rectangular table was set for eight people. One of the chairs had been removed, creating an empty space for me to park my chair. “I guess this is my place,” I said, rolling up to the table. Natalie sat down next to me, leaving room for Mason on my other side.
A minute later, he and Liam came racing into the room, laughing together.
“No running in the house, Mason,” I said in a warning tone. “Too many breakable things in here.” Still, I was glad to see my son getting along with Natalie’s nephew. I had gone back and forth over whether to bring Mason to Georgia with me or leave him in Kentucky with my mom, but the smile on his face reassured me that I had made the right decision.
The rest of the family soon joined us. Mindy and Doug sat down across from Natalie and me, putting Liam between them, while Bill took his place at the head of the table. Bev served us all bowls of piping hot potato soup, then brought in a platter of ham and cheese sliders to go with it.
“We like to load this up with all the fixin’s,” Natalie said with a smile as her mother sat down at the other end of the table and started passing around toppings for the soup: sour cream, shredded cheese, crumbled bacon, and scallions.
“Sounds good to me,” I said, letting her add a little of everything to my bowl. She put some cheese and bacon in Mason’s bowl as well before passing it on to her father.
“What, you’re not gonna load mine up for me, too?” Bill asked indignantly as he took the dish of shredded cheese from her. Having just met him, I wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.
“Not when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself, Daddy,” Natalie replied sweetly, setting the bacon down next to him. Then she knelt behind me and took my adaptive utensils out of my bag. “What are we having to drink, Momma?” she asked as she placed a reusable straw in my empty glass.
“Oh, good Lord, I knew I was forgetting something!” Bev jumped up from her seat and rushed back into the kitchen, returning with a pitcher of milk and a bottle of chardonnay. “What would you like, dear?” she asked me as she went around the table, pouring drinks. “Bill has beer in the fridge, too, if you’re not a wine drinker.”
“A glass of wine would be great, thanks,” I said.
She filled both of the little boys’ cups with milk, then picked up the bottle of chardonnay again as she made her way around to Mindy. “Thanks, Momma, but I think I’ll stick with water tonight,” Mindy said, covering her empty wine glass with her hand.
At first, Bev gave her a look of confusion. Then she suddenly gasped, her narrow eyes widening as her hand drifted up to her open mouth. “Does this mean what I think it means?” she asked, not bothering to contain her excitement.
Mindy glanced at Doug with an exasperated expression. “Well, I was gonna wait until after Nat’s birthday, but I guess we’d better have them open their gifts now.”
The corners of Doug’s mouth twitched as he tried not to grin. He got up from the table and disappeared, returning with a gift bag for each of his in-laws. “This one’s for you, son,” he said, handing the last bag to Liam. “Y’all better open them at the same time.”
“Why do they all get to open a present on Natalie’s birthday?” Mason asked me in a small voice, frowning as he watched Liam tear into the tissue paper inside his bag. “That’s not fair.”
“Shh…” I was pretty sure I knew where this was going, but I didn’t want to ruin the big reveal. I turned to Natalie, who had taken a pink t-shirt out of her bag. She held it up to show me what it said: I’m the cool aunt.
“You sure are, babe,” I said, smiling.
Bill chuckled as he unfolded a blue t-shirt that said:
GRANDPA
Love them
Spoil them
Give them back
Bev’s bag contained a matching t-shirt, only hers was pink with the word “Grandma” on it. She burst into tears when she read it. “Them?” she asked, beaming at Mindy.
Mindy nodded, grinning back. “We found out right after Thanksgiving. We were going to wait until after the holidays to tell you, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret that long. I’m due in August.”
“Oh, honey!” Bev jumped up and threw her arms around her oldest daughter. “I’m so happy!”
“You know what that shirt says?” Doug asked Liam, who had finally managed to untangle a blue t-shirt from the wad of tissue paper he’d taken out of his gift bag. “It says, ‘Big Brother Under Construction.’” He pointed to each word emblazoned above and below a yellow bulldozer. “Momma has a baby in her tummy! That means you’re gonna be a big brother!”
Watching their interaction brought tears to my own eyes. As Natalie’s family exchanged hugs and congratulations, I imagined what it would be like to have that same conversation with my son. I worried that I would never know.
“Congratulations,” I said once the room had calmed down some. “I know I just met most of you, but I’m happy for y’all – and I can’t wait to meet the newest member of the family next summer.”
Natalie smiled over at me as she reached under the tablecloth, slipping her hand into mine.
Bill cleared his throat. Holding up his beer can, he said, “I propose a toast. To Mindy, Doug, and their growing family: Congratulations, and thanks for the best early Christmas gift we could ever ask for.”
“Hear, hear!” Bev chimed in, raising her glass.
I carefully picked mine up with both hands, adding, “And to Natalie on her birthday.”
“Yes! To Natalie!” echoed Bill.
Natalie winked at me. “Thanks, baby,” she whispered as she clinked her glass against mine.
Looking around the table, Mason and Liam imitated us with their cups of milk, and we all drank to both the expectant parents and the birthday girl.
“Now, y’all better dig into that soup before it gets cold!” Bev urged us afterward, dabbing at her wet eyes with the corner of her napkin.
I threaded my forefinger and thumb through the loops of my spoon and lowered it into my bowl, stirring the mountain of toppings into the soup before I lifted the first bite to my lips. “Mm,” I said after swallowing, savoring the combination of flavors and textures – the warm, creamy soup mixed with the cool sour cream, melty cheese, salty bacon, and a sharp kick of onion. It tasted like my mom’s loaded mashed potatoes, but somehow, it was even better. “This is delicious! Now I know why it’s Natalie’s favorite.”
Bev beamed at me. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it! There’s plenty left, so you let me know if you want seconds.”
“Better save room for dessert, though,” Mindy warned. “Momma made Natalie’s favorite kind of cake, too.”
“What kind is that?” I asked, glancing over at Natalie. I felt like I’d already learned so much more about her just by being there, meeting her family and seeing where she had grown up. I wondered if she’d felt the same way after spending the Fourth of July with my family.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she replied with a smile, raising her eyebrow at me as she took a sip of wine.
I chuckled, dipping my spoon back into my bowl of soup. I took small bites, trying my best not to drip any onto the tablecloth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Natalie’s father watching me curiously. I’d learned that most people are quick to look away when they’re caught staring, but not Bill. He didn’t lower his eyes when I looked in his direction; instead, he addressed me directly. “That’s a clever contraption you got there, Kevin.” He tipped his head toward my adaptive spoon. “I didn’t know if you’d be able to eat by yourself or if Natalie would have to feed you.”
As with his earlier comment about the amount of luggage I’d brought, I couldn’t tell whether he meant to be condescending or was trying to make a joke. Or maybe he was just genuinely curious? I went with the latter, wanting to like the man and be liked in return. “It’s cool to see the things they’ve come up with to help people like me, huh?” I responded, flashing him a pleasant smile. “I may not look it, but I’m actually pretty independent with most parts of my life.”
“I told you, Daddy, Kevin drives and everything!” Natalie piped up, quickly coming to my defense. “He really doesn’t need much help.” I got the impression that this was a conversation they’d had before, which made me wonder what Bill’s initial reaction had been when he’d found out his daughter was dating a quadriplegic.
“Well, that’s good to hear. I don’t want you throwing your back out by hauling him around like a sack of potatoes.”
I looked down at my bowl and tried to concentrate on taking another bite of soup, pretending his comment hadn’t bothered me, but I could feel my face flush. He must have been referring to my transfer out of Natalie’s car, which was the only time he had seen her “haul” me anywhere.
“Bill, hush!” Bev scolded her husband. I glanced up to find her frowning at him from the other end of the table. She looked slightly embarrassed. “Now’s not the time to talk about that. Let’s just enjoy Natalie’s birthday dinner and take advantage of this opportunity to get to know Kevin.” She flashed me a tight-lipped smile.
I forced one back as I put down my spoon and picked up the slider on my plate with both hands. The little sandwich was the perfect size for me to hold without letting half the ham and cheese inside fall out into my lap. I wondered if she always made them to serve with her potato soup, or if Natalie had suggested them, knowing they would be fairly easy for me to eat in front of her family. “These are really good, too, Bev,” I told her after swallowing a bite.
“Thank you, dear,” she replied. “You’re too kind.”
Next to me, Mason had barely touched his dinner. “I don’t like it,” he whined when I encouraged him to eat his soup.
“You haven’t even tried it. At least take a bite of your sandwich,” I said. “It’s ham and cheese. You like ham and cheese.”
“I don’t wanna! It’s got black stuff on it,” he complained, poking the top of the bun.
“Those are poppyseeds. They’re so tiny, you can barely taste them. C’mon, just try one bite.”
Mason crossed his arms in front of his chest and slumped back in his chair. “No.”
“I can scrape them off for you,” Natalie offered.
“No.”
“How about I fix him a nice peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead?” Bev asked. “We make our own peanut butter here. It’s so much better than the kind you can buy at the store.”
“No,” Mason repeated stubbornly.
“No, thank you,” I prompted him, shaking my head apologetically at Bev. “He’s probably still full from all the junk food he had earlier. His class had a Christmas party at school today, and, of course, we had to buy a snack at the airport to eat while we waited to board the plane.”
“It’s no problem,” she replied kindly. “Liam can be a picky eater, too.”
But, looking across the table at Liam, I saw that the three-year-old had managed to polish off most of his slider. That made me even more embarrassed by Mason’s rude behavior, but I decided to drop the issue, not wanting to trigger a full-on meltdown by forcing him to eat. It had been a long day for him, and I could tell he was getting tired. He pouted until the end of the meal, when he and Liam were excused to go back upstairs and play.
After dinner, the adults went into the living room to watch Natalie open her birthday presents, which included a bottle of her favorite wine and a stemless glass with a plane on it that said, “because PASSENGERS,” a set of James Bond-inspired nail polishes, and a Kindle Fire tablet. “So you can bring your books with you wherever you go without ‘em taking up space in your bag,” her mother said as Natalie studied the back of the Kindle box. “You can also browse the internet on it.”
“I dunno if I’m ready to make the switch from paperbacks to digital books, but it sure does sound convenient,” Natalie admitted. “Thanks, Momma!”
Once she’d finished opening the gifts from her family, I handed her the box Mason had helped me wrap. “This is from Mason and me. Well… mostly me,” I said with a wink as she tore off the shiny, pink paper it had taken us ten minutes to put on.
Natalie’s eyes lit up when she saw the black Chanel gift box. “Ooh la la!” She lifted the lid and folded back the tissue paper inside. “Oh, Kevin!” she gasped as she took out a small, Kentucky blue handbag with black trim. “It’s beautiful!”
Watching her trace the quilted leather with her fingertips, I had a sudden flashback to my last Christmas with Kristin. One of the gifts I’d given her was a pink Coach purse she had never gotten to carry. I could picture it sitting on a shelf in our closet months after her death, still in pristine condition.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to stay in the present moment. “Apparently, this style is called a ‘Boy Bag,’” I told Natalie.
“Well, I’m calling this one a Backstreet Boy Bag, considering it’s black and blue like your album,” she replied, beaming at me.
I grinned back, pleased that she’d caught on to my reasoning for picking out that particular bag. “I wasn’t sure if you’d get the reference or not.”
Natalie gave me a look. “Babe, if I didn’t have your discography memorized before we met, I do now. I’m familiar with Black & Blue,” she said, patting my knee. “Thank you for the bag. I love it!”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you love it… but aren’t you gonna open it and check out the inside?” I prompted her. The bag was only one part of her gift.
She raised her eyebrows. “I guess I’d better, huh?”
I nodded. “Go on. Take a peek.”
Natalie unfastened the clasp and lifted the flap to look inside the small purse. “What’s this?” she asked, pulling out the folded travel brochure I had tucked inside it. I waited for her to unfold it and see the photo of the beautiful beach on the front before I said anything. “Jamaica?”
“How would you like to ring in the new year there?” I asked her with a smile.
“Seriously?” Her eyes widened. “That sounds amazing!”
“Better start packing your bags, then, because in just over a week, we’ll be relaxing on that beach together – just the two of us,” I said, giving her a significant look. I knew she had been looking forward to going on a real romantic getaway with me, one that didn’t involve work. Since our trip to Nashville had gone reasonably well, I felt like we were ready for a longer vacation together.
“I can’t wait!” She leaned over and kissed me on the lips. “Thank you!”
At first, I felt pleased that Natalie liked her birthday present. But when I saw the stunned looks on the faces of her family members, I began to wonder if it was too much. Maybe I shouldn’t have given her such an extravagant gift in front of them. They reacted appropriately enough, complimenting Natalie’s new purse as they passed it around and expressing polite interest in the trip I had planned, but I got the impression they thought it was over the top.
“That purse alone probably cost over a thousand dollars!” I heard Mindy telling her mother in hushed tones as I wheeled by the kitchen on my way to the bathroom. “And a trip to Jamaica on top of that?! It’s nice he’s got so much money to throw around like that, but did he really have to flaunt it in our faces? He’s gonna spoil her rotten! I just hope she doesn’t get too uppity and forget where she’s from now that she’s dating a celebrity.”
I felt my face heat up as I hurried past the doorway, hoping they wouldn’t hear my wheels rolling over the hardwood floor. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to catch me eavesdropping. I backed into the downstairs bathroom, which wasn’t wide enough for me to turn around in, and quietly closed the door. It was difficult to do my business in such a small space, but, somehow, I managed. I felt more determined than ever to prove my independence in front of Natalie’s family.
I was just finishing up when I heard a soft knock on the door. “Kevin?” Natalie called. “You okay in there?”
“Yup!” I answered, turning on the faucet to wash my hands. “I’m almost done. Just give me another minute or two.”
“Take your time. Momma just wanted me to check on you since you’ve been in here awhile. I told her that was normal for you, but she still wanted me to make sure you were all right.”
“Thanks, baby, but I’m fine,” I insisted, trying not to sound too flustered as I fumbled with the soap. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Meet us in the dining room. We’re about to have dessert!”
“Okay… Damn it!” I swore under my breath as the wet bar of soap shot out of my hands and hit the tile floor.
“Kevin?” Natalie called again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah… just dropped the soap…” Grunting, I leaned over to retrieve it, but I could barely reach it, let alone get a good grip on it. With a defeated sigh, I said, “I can’t get it. Can you-?”
“Yup. I’m coming in now.” Natalie cracked the door open and squeezed herself inside the cramped bathroom.
“Why don’t your parents use liquid hand soap like normal people?” I grumbled as she bent down to pick up the slippery bar of soap.
She shrugged. “I dunno. They’re old-fashioned, I guess,” she replied, rinsing it off before she rubbed my hands with it. “Knowing my momma, this is probably some locally-made soap she picked up at the Peanut Festival and put out specially for company, thinking she was being fancy. I’m sure it never even occurred to her how hard it would be for you to hold onto it.” When she finished washing my hands for me, she returned the soap to its dish and stepped back out of the way so I could rinse them under the running water. Then she handed me a towel to dry them off. “You ready now?”
“Yeah… thanks.” I glanced down at my fly, making sure I was decent before I followed her out of the bathroom.
The rest of her family was waiting for us in the dining room. “Well, there he is,” Bev said with a smile as I wheeled myself up to the table. “I was starting to worry you had an upset tummy. We have Pepto-Bismol if you need some.”
“Oh, no, thanks. I’m fine,” I replied quickly, feeling my face redden as I realized she must have thought I’d been taking a huge dump.
“Oh, good. I hope you made room for dessert! I was just about to go and get the cake.”
I was still full from dinner, but I forced myself to smile back and nod. “Sounds delicious.”
Bev disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later carrying a birthday cake with thirty-one candles blazing. “Happy birthday to you,” she began singing as she brought it over to the table, and the rest of us soon joined in. “Happy birthday to you…”
“Happy birthday, dear Natalie…” I added some harmony to the song, watching the candlelight dance across Natalie’s face as her mother set the cake down in front of her. “Happy birthday to you!”
Natalie took a deep breath and blew out her candles as everyone clapped. “Did you make a wish?” Bev asked.
Natalie nodded. “Sure did,” she said, smiling at me.
I smiled back, wondering exactly what she had wished for.
Her favorite kind of cake turned out to be carrot cake. “I know it’s more of a spring dessert, but it’s not my fault I was born on the first day of winter,” she said before taking her first bite.
“Who cares about that? I say you can eat any kind of cake any time of year, especially on your birthday,” I replied as I cut into my slice.
Next to me, Mason wrinkled his nose at his cake. “This has carrots in it?”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, kid. You can’t even taste the carrots.” What I tasted instead when I brought my fork to my mouth was the perfect blend of sweetness and spice as the rich, cream cheese frosting complimented the moist cake. Swallowing, I added, “This is incredible, Bev!”
In the end, Mason must have agreed with me because he finished most of his slice, leaving a small pile of frosting behind on his plate. I only ate half of mine, conscious of the amount of food I’d already put into my body that evening and the fact that we weren’t scheduled to do my bowel program until the next morning. The last thing I wanted was to have another accident in the night, especially when I was sharing a hotel room with both Natalie and Mason.
By the time we finished dessert, it was almost ten o’clock. “We should probably get going soon,” I whispered to Natalie, tipping my head toward Mason, whose eyelids were at half mast. “He’s had a long day.”
She nodded. Once the table had been cleared, we made our departure, thanking her parents for hosting and promising that we’d see them again the next day for an early Christmas celebration.
There were only two small motels in Sylvester, neither of which had an accessible room with a roll-in shower, so we had reserved a room at a hotel in Albany, the nearest city, which was still thirty miles away from the Crawfords’ farm.
“So, what did you think of my family?” Natalie asked as she drove us there.
“They were really nice,” I replied, deciding not to mention her dad’s condescending comments at dinner or her sister’s rant about my gift. “I figured they would be, considering they raised you to be one of the kindest people I know. I just hope they liked me.”
“They loved you!” she assured me. “You should have heard my momma gushing about how handsome you are while you were in the bathroom.”
I smiled. “Your mom is lovely – and a great cook!”
“Told ya!” Natalie said, grinning back. “I’m glad it went well. It’s always a little nerve-racking, bringing a new guy home to meet the parents, you know?”
I nodded. “Especially when he’s ten years older than you and already has a kid,” I added, wondering how her parents had reacted when they’d first found out she was dating a single dad in his forties. Despite what Natalie had told me about them pressuring her to settle down and start a family, I knew I wasn’t exactly what they’d had in mind for their daughter.
“Oh, hush,” she chided me. “They don’t care about that. They’re just happy I finally met a faithful man who treats me right. And, in case you couldn’t tell, they love kids! The more, the merrier!”
I looked back at Mason, who was already asleep in his booster seat, his head lolling to one side. “But they’d rather you had kids of your own, right?” I asked in a low voice. “Like your sister?”
“Well, sure, but there’s still plenty of time for that down the road if I – or we – decide to try for them someday,” Natalie said, glancing over at me. “Thirty-one isn’t that old.”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about.”
“Well, forty-one isn’t old either.”
I shook my head. “It’s not my age. It’s my disability.” I paused to listen for Mason’s deep breathing in the back seat, making sure he was still asleep before I went on. “I don’t know if I’m physically capable of getting you pregnant.”
“You won’t know until you try,” she replied with a shrug, brushing my concerns aside. “But even if we can’t do it the natural way, there are other ways to make a baby. I’m not worried about it, and you shouldn’t be either.” Taking one hand off the wheel, she reached across the center console and wrapped her hand around mine. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Her words offered me some reassurance, but I couldn’t help but wonder whether she would feel differently someday. Oh, well, I thought, staring out the windshield at the dark stretch of road ahead of us. I guess she’s right: we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
***