There was no one waiting on the front porch to greet me when I arrived home on Wednesday evening. After a long day of travel, it was a relief to finally turn into my own driveway. The red brick colonial blazed brightly against a backdrop of black sky as I approached, but I didn’t see a single curtain twitch, nothing to indicate that anyone was watching out the window for me.
I parked my truck at the top of the driveway and lowered the lift. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to unload my luggage, considering I could hardly reach it from my chair, so I left it all in the back for the time being, locking the truck behind me before I rolled up the ramp that led to the porch.
My path to the door was partially blocked by a giant cardboard box that had been left on the porch. Bending down to look at the label on the side of the box, I realized it contained the Hoyer lift I had ordered online a few nights earlier. I had almost forgotten that it was scheduled to be delivered that day.
With difficulty, I managed to maneuver my chair around the box and make my way to the front door. Punching in the keycode to unlock it, I let myself into the house. “Hey, y’all!” I called as I rolled across the threshold. “Anybody home?”
I expected to hear the excited patter of running footsteps, but instead, my ears were assaulted by the sound of my son screaming. “NO! I DON’T WANT IT THERE!”
“All right!” Natalie’s voice replied. “Show me where we should put it then.” She spoke more calmly than Mason, but I could tell by her clipped tone that her patience was running thin.
“Right HERE!”
Hearing a loud crash, I rushed forward, following the sound of their voices to the kitchen, where I found Natalie sitting at the table, hot glue gun in hand, surrounded by scraps of construction paper, pipe cleaners, cardboard, and other craft supplies. My normally clean kitchen looked like a Hobby Lobby that had been hit by a tornado. Said “tornado” hovered over her, breathing hard – Mason was clearly in the midst of a full-blown tantrum.
“What the hell is going on in here?” I asked, looking around at the wreckage.
“Hi, babe!” Natalie said brightly, forcing a big, fake smile onto her face as she set the glue gun aside. “Sorry, we didn’t even hear you come in! We were too busy making Mason’s valentine box.”
Following her eyes, I saw a cardboard box wrapped in aluminum foil lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. Apparently, that was what I’d heard being knocked off the table. “Ah… I see.” I turned to Mason, fixing my gaze upon his red, tear-stained face. “So, how did your valentine box end up on the floor, son?”
Mason folded his arms across his chest. “I dunno,” he mumbled, carefully avoiding making eye contact with me.
“Uh-huh. I think you’d better pick it up and then go to your room for an attitude adjustment,” I told him sternly. “You can come back and tell me all about it once you’ve calmed down.”
He didn’t argue, just picked up the box and put it on the table, then turned and trudged out of the room. As I listened to his footsteps stomping up the stairs, I glanced back at Natalie, giving her a knowing look. “Sounds like somebody’s ready for bed.”
“I think we both are,” she said with a weak chuckle. “It’s been a long week.”
I wondered what she meant by that. Every time I had talked to her on the phone over the past few days, she had assured me that she and Mason were both doing fine. But as soon he was out of earshot, the truth came spilling out of her.
“He hates me!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t know what happened. He and I were getting along great in Aspen! But as soon as we got here, he turned against me. I have no idea what I did wrong, but I can’t seem to do anything right. He hates the food I cook for him, every piece of clothing I pick out for him to wear, even the way I read to him at night!”
“Well, what were you reading, War and Peace?” I joked, trying to coax a smile out of her.
“No, of course not!” Natalie cried. “Just normal picture books off his shelves. I even let him pick the books! But apparently I don’t do the characters’ voices as well as you. And my dino nuggets just don’t taste as good as Dawn’s. Neither does my mac and cheese. I don’t make grilled cheese right either, according to Mason.”
I sighed, my heart sinking. “I’m sorry he gave you such a hard time, babe. I wish you would’ve told me sooner. I could have had my mom come and get him.”
“I didn’t wanna pawn him off on your mom,” Natalie said, shaking her head. “I thought I could handle him. I mean, I’m used to dealing with difficult passengers. How hard could it be to take care of a five-year-old boy for a few days? Turns out… way harder than I was anticipating.”
“Parenting is the hardest job in the world. Anyone will tell you that,” I replied. “But it’s not all right for Mason to treat you with disrespect. I don’t like that. I’ll talk to him about it tonight.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, turning away from me. When I heard her sniffle, I realized why.
“Nat?” Rolling my chair right up next to hers, I reached out and touched the side of her face. My fingers came away wet; I could feel the sticky warmth on the base of my thumb. When she finally turned to face me again, her brown eyes were swimming with tears. “Aww, babe, don’t cry,” I said, wrapping my arm around her. “It’s okay. I’m here now. I’ll handle it.”
Natalie melted into me, burying her face in my shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she murmured. “I missed you so much.”
“So these are… happy tears?” I asked, confused by her emotional reaction.
“Not exactly.” Sniffling, she straightened up. “I’m not happy or sad. I’m just disappointed,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I was really looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with Mason this week. I thought staying here without you or Dawn around would bring the two of us closer together, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. Like I said, he hates me. I feel like a complete failure.”
“You’re not,” I said quickly. “And he doesn’t hate you. I don’t know why he’s been treating you that way, but I’m gonna find out.”
“Well, the whole valentine box debacle was partially my fault,” she admitted. “Mason came home from school yesterday with a reminder note about his class party for Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I asked if he had cards to pass out, and he told me y’all had already picked up some Star Wars valentines. Then I asked if he had a box to hold his cards, and he said he didn’t.”
I opened my mouth to interject, then changed my mind and closed it again, allowing Natalie to continue telling her side of the story.
“So I offered to help him make a valentine box. We looked up some ideas on Pinterest and found this cute R2-D2 box made out of a mini trash can. Mason liked it a lot, and it looked pretty easy, so I told him I’d try to find a cute little trash can so we could make it tonight. While he was at school today, I took your van into town to pick up some craft supplies.”
“Wasn’t it hard to drive with your right foot in a boot?” I asked, frowning as I looked down at her sprained ankle, which was still swaddled with Ace bandages and immobilized inside my old walking cast. Just as I’d feared, the plastic boot was too big for her, but when she pulled the two straps over the top of her foot and front of her ankle as tight as possible and fastened them in that position, it apparently still stabilized her ankle enough that she could stand and walk without pain.
“It was at first, but I got the hang of it,” she replied. “I found my way to the dollar store, but they didn’t have any trash cans that looked like the one in the picture. I went to four or five other places, and none of them had anything that would work. By the last stop, it was getting pretty late in the afternoon, so I finally had to give up and head back here to meet Mason’s bus. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal; I figured we could just use a cardboard box and make a regular robot instead. But when Mason found out we weren’t gonna be able to do R2-D2, he threw a fit.” She sighed, tugging at her ponytail. “So, yeah – it’s been pretty tense around here tonight.”
“Oh, babe…” I cringed at the thought of her hobbling around multiple stores on a completely unnecessary quest. “I really wish you would’ve called me. Mason doesn’t even need a valentine box. According to the newsletter his teacher sent home a couple weeks ago, they’re decorating paper bags in class to hold their cards.”
Natalie’s jaw dropped. “What?!” She looked down at the messy table in dismay. “Does Mason know that?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he forgot… or maybe he was just manipulating you. That’s why I warned you about that; I was worried he might try to take advantage of the fact that neither Dawn or I were around to discipline him. When the cat’s away, the mice will play, ya know?”
“Why, that little stinker,” said Natalie, shaking her head.
“Oh, trust me, he’s in big trouble. By the time I’m through with him, he’s gonna wish he had behaved better for you.”
She winced. “You’re not gonna spank him, are you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe in spanking, but he’s about to get a verbal ass-whoopin’.” As I wheeled myself away from the table, another thought occurred to me. “I hope you at least took advantage of my handicapped plates while you were driving the cripmobile around town today,” I added in an off-handed way, turning to wink at her.
“Kevin!” she cried, clapping her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter. “I can’t believe you call it that!”
“Why not?” I shrugged. “That’s what it is. So, did you park it in the handicapped spaces?”
Natalie’s face flushed pink as a guilty expression flickered across it. “I did,” she admitted in a tiny voice, ducking her head down into her shoulders. “I felt like such a fraud parking up front, but the other spots were so far from the entrance, and I figured, ‘Well, I did sprain my ankle…’ Am I an awful person?”
“Of course not,” I said, shaking my head. “Like you said, you have a sprained ankle. You deserved a close parking spot. Now, if you had driven my van and parked in one of those spaces without being at least temporarily disabled, that would be a different story. People who take handicapped spots they’re not entitled to are at the top of my shit list. Little boys who take advantage of their father’s girlfriend are currently number two.”
Natalie giggled. “Aw, don’t be too hard on him,” she said tenderly. “He’s only five.”
“That’s old enough to know better,” I replied matter-of-factly. “Why don’t you go relax in the living room while I talk to him? I’ll make him clean up this mess when he comes back down.”
“Okay,” she agreed, giving me a grateful smile. “Thanks, babe.”
“No. Thank you for everything you did for Mason these last few days,” I said, smiling back. “I’m sorry he wasn’t more appreciative.”
As I made my way upstairs, I thought about what I was going to say to my son. Mason was normally well-behaved for a five-year-old boy; it wasn’t like him to talk back or throw tantrums. But, having witnessed the tail end of one of his meltdowns myself, I had no reason to doubt that Natalie was telling the truth. I just didn’t understand what would have possessed Mason to break the promise he’d made me to behave for her.
When I rolled out of the elevator on the second floor, I found his bedroom door shut. “Mason?” I called, rapping my knuckles against the closed door. “Can I come in?”
“Okay,” he grudgingly agreed.
Hooking my fingers around the door handle, I pulled down and pushed the door open. Mason lay in the fetal position on his bed with his back to me. Natalie’s cat, Colby, was curled up at his feet, fast asleep. Well, at least those two seem to have bonded, I thought, suppressing a smile. As I moved closer to the bed, I could see Mason’s bony shoulders quivering and hear the soft hiccups of a kid who had been crying hard. In spite of my anger, I felt something inside me soften.
“Mason, look at me,” I said quietly, and after a few seconds, he turned over to face me. “You wanna tell me why you were screaming at Natalie like that tonight? She said the past two days have been pretty tough. What happened?”
“I dunno,” he mumbled.
I shook my head. “Not good enough. I asked you a question, and I want a real answer. When we hugged each other goodbye at the airport on Monday, you promised me you would behave and help out Natalie, and instead, it sounds like you made things harder for her. Why?”
Mason sniffled loudly, snot bubbling out of his nose. I fished a tissue out of the box on his bedside table and handed it to him without a word, waiting for him to answer me first. He wiped his nose, then wadded the tissue up into a tight little ball. Watching the way his fist clenched around it, I could tell something was bothering him, something that went far beyond picture books and valentine boxes.
“C’mon, Mase. Talk to me,” I coaxed him. “Tell me what’s been going on with you and Natalie.”
“Nothing,” he insisted.
I tried a different tactic. “She said you didn’t like any of the dinners she fixed for you, but it sounds like she made all your favorites: mac and cheese, grilled cheese, dino nuggets. Was it just because she did things a little differently than how Daddy and Dawn do it?”
At first, Mason just shrugged. Then, finally, he nodded. “I don’t want her to be my new mom,” he muttered.
Suddenly, his behavior made more sense to me.
“Buddy, we’ve talked about this before,” I said gently, resting my hand on his shoulder. “I’m not trying to make Natalie your new mom. If we got married someday, she would become your stepmother – which is like a bonus mom! But she’d never be able to replace your real mom. Kristin-” A lump rose in my throat as I said my late wife’s name aloud, just like it always did. Swallowing hard to force it back down, I cleared my throat and continued: “Kristin – your momma – was one of a kind. Irreplaceable.”
“What about Dawn?” he asked.
That was when I realized: This had nothing to do with Kristin. It had been about Dawn all along. “You’re worried Natalie’s trying to replace Dawn?”
Mason nodded, fresh tears filling his eyes as he looked miserably up at me. “Because Dawn’s sick and can’t take care of us anymore,” he said in a small voice. “And Natalie knows how to help you now.”
I stared back at him, caught off-guard by the candid way he had voiced the very same concerns I’d confided in Nick just two nights earlier. “Who told you that? Did Natalie say something?”
He shook his head. “No. I just know.”
I wondered how else he could have come up with the idea that Dawn was too sick to take care of us. I had tried to protect him from the scarier parts of Dawn’s diagnosis, refusing to use frightening phrases such as “heart failure” in his presence, but either he had overheard one of my adult conversations and assumed the worst, or he was more perceptive than I’d realized.
“Well, it’s not true,” I said firmly. “Like I told you, Dawn has a problem with her heart, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be able to keep living here and taking care of us. She’s not going anywhere. Natalie’s just been filling in for her while she’s in Glasgow with her parents. But she’ll be home in a couple days, and things will go back to normal. Dawn will still be your nanny – and my attendant – for as long as she wants to be.”
“Forever?” he asked hopefully.
I hesitated. “Forever’s a long time, buddy. We won’t need her forever. You’re gonna grow up and become more independent, and I…” I trailed off, knowing I would probably never be able to live fully independently again. “Well, I can always find other people to help me if Dawn decides to move on someday. But that’s nothing you need to worry about now. No matter what happens in the future, she’ll always be a part of our family – even if our family grows.”
I would never admit it to Mason, but the marriage conversation I’d had with Nick the other night was still very much on my mind. I had thought about it the whole plane ride home, imagining how I might propose to Natalie if and when the time came. Of course, I would have to talk to her parents and ask for their permission first. But I would also want Mason’s blessing before I decided to marry Natalie – and, after hearing about how badly the past few days had gone, I wasn’t sure I would get it any time soon.
Filled with fresh doubts, I went back downstairs to face Natalie. “Mason and I had a nice talk,” I told her, parking my chair next to the couch where she was curled up with a cozy blanket and her Kindle, her right foot propped up on a throw pillow. “I’m not defending the way he treated you, but it seems this whole thing with Dawn has affected him more than I realized. Turns out, he was worried I would want or need to replace her now that she’s sick, and he took it out on you.”
“Aww.” Natalie set her Kindle down on the coffee table. “Poor kid. He thought I was trying to be the new Dawn?”
“Apparently. But I made it pretty clear to him that Dawn is a part of our family, no matter what, and she’s not going anywhere unless she wants to leave.” I looked Natalie directly in the eye as I spoke, wanting to be sure that she understood this as well.
She nodded but said nothing.
“Anyway… he’s gonna take a few more minutes to dry his tears and get himself together, and then he’s gonna come back down to apologize to you and help clean up the kitchen. He still has valentine cards to address, so he can work on that while I fix myself something to eat.”
Natalie’s eyes widened. “Oh, babe, you must be starving! I didn’t realize you hadn’t even eaten dinner yet. I guess I just assumed you would have grabbed something at the airport during your layover.”
“I probably would have if I’d had someone with me, but it’s kinda hard to carry food and push my chair at the same time,” I said with a shrug. “Exactly why I’ll probably always need an attendant.”
“One of the airport attendants could have helped with that if you had just asked!” Natalie said with a tone of exasperation, as if she couldn’t imagine why I wouldn’t want a total stranger wheeling me around the airport, handling my food, and watching me eat. Maybe she didn’t mind making small talk for two hours, but I hated it.
“I know, but that’s not the point,” I replied patiently, knowing she could never fully understand my perspective.
“Well, what do you want for dinner?” she asked, starting to get up from the couch. “I could fix you a grilled cheese, too, if you don’t mind the way I make them.”
“Thanks, babe, but I don’t want you to make me anything,” I said, shooting her a quick smile. “I just want you to lie here, read your book, and relax. It sounds like you’ve had a long day. I can make my own dinner. Mason will help me if I need it.”
Natalie gave me a doubtful look in return but finally nodded and leaned back against the armrest. “All right, fine, if you insist,” she replied, reaching for her Kindle. “But, I swear, my grilled cheese really isn’t that bad!”
***
Swallowing a bite of the turkey sandwich I had made myself, I glanced at the piece of paper sitting beside my plate. “Okay, the next name is Aiden. A-I-D-E-N,” I spelled out slowly, so Mason could print his classmate’s name on the Obi-Wan Kenobi valentine he had picked out. “Hang on a sec – didn’t we already do Aiden’s?” I leaned in closer to inspect the class list his teacher had enclosed in her last newsletter.
“We have two Aidens,” Mason said, adding the card to the growing pile on the kitchen table. “No, wait… three.”
“Three Aidens??” I scanned the list. Sure enough, it included an Aidan B., an Aiden C., and an Ayden Z. “Wow, would you look at that? And they’re all spelled differently.”
“Yeah… Aiden C. is nice, but Aidan B. is not.” Twirling his pencil between his thumb and forefinger, Mason frowned. “He pushes people on the playground.”
“What about Ayden Z.?” I asked, curious to hear more kindergarten gossip.
Mason scrunched up his face as he considered my question. “He’s okay, but he picks his nose a lot.”
Looking down at that butchered spelling of an otherwise nice name, I nodded. “Sounds about right. I bet he eats his boogers, too, huh?”
Mason threw back his head, laughing hysterically. “Uh-huh!”
I smiled as I took another bite of my turkey sandwich, secretly thinking about how much I missed being able to pick my own nose. You never know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Swallowing, I said, “So, who’s next? Let’s see… Jaden. J-A-D-E-N.”
Mason bent over another card, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth as he concentrated on printing each letter correctly. Now that he had calmed down and apologized to Natalie, he looked like a completely different kid from the crying, out-of-control one we had dealt with earlier.
“Okay, so, you’ve got Aiden and Jaden. Who else?” I consulted the class list again as he pushed the card across the table. “Ah, of course: Brayden. B-R-A-Y-D-E-N. Jesus… Why do all of these kids’ names rhyme?” Looking down the list, I counted a Kaden and a Hayden in addition to Brayden, Jaden, and the three Aidens. Then there was Payton, Paxton, and Braxton. The girls’ names were no better: Bailey, Hailey, Riley, Kylie, Kaylee, Kayla, Makayla, Makenzie… “How on earth does your teacher keep track of them all?” I asked in disbelief. “And what’s with all the A-Ys? I mean, Fayth? F-A-Y-T-H? Why??”
Only in the Bible Belt, I thought as I watched Mason pick out an Ahsoka valentine and print poor Fayth’s name, which had obviously been conceived through some unholy union of evangelism and illiteracy. “Nothing after the H – just the one Y after the A in the middle,” I corrected when I caught him adding another Y to the end of it. “Your momma and I must have missed the memo on the ‘A-Y’ thing. Otherwise, we would have spelled your name M-A-Y-S-O-N, so you could be simultaneously trendy and ‘unique,’ too.”
In the midst of erasing the extra Y, Mason glanced up from Fayth’s card. “What?”
Seeing the confused expression on his face, I shook my head. I shouldn’t have expected my five-year-old to understand sarcasm any better than phonics. “Never mind. Ready for the next name?” When he nodded, I returned my eyes to the list and immediately regretted it. “Dear Lord… I don’t even know how to say this one. N-E-V-A-E-H?”
“Nev-ay-ah,” Natalie announced as she hobbled into the kitchen. “It’s ‘Heaven’ backwards.”
“Really?” Narrowing my eyes, I took another look at the name. “Ah… so it is. But why would anyone wanna name their kid ‘Heaven’ backwards? Wouldn’t that be, like… Hell?”
Natalie laughed. “My sister wanted to name her kid that. Seriously, if Liam had been a girl, his name would have been Nevaeh.”
“Oh.” I felt my face turn red as I realized that, in the midst of my judgmental rant, I’d just put my foot in my mouth. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said with a mischievous smile. “It’s a terrible name. Mindy tried to justify it by saying they would call her ‘Nev’ for short, which would be like our mom’s nickname, Bev, mixed with mine. It was a nice thought, but I don’t think Momma liked the name any better than I did.”
I chuckled. “Well, y’all better hope her new baby’s not a girl. Otherwise, you might still end up with a niece named Nevaeh.”
“I know,” Natalie replied, wrinkling her nose. “Momma really wants a granddaughter, but I guess I’m gonna be praying for another nephew.”
“Nephews are nice,” I said, smiling as I watched Mason add Nevaeh’s card to the pile of valentines in the middle of the table. “Here, have a seat, babe.” Leaning over, I reached around the corner of the table to pull out a chair for Natalie as far as I could.
Favoring her left foot, she limped over to the chair and lowered herself onto it. “What can I do to help?” she asked.
“You can put on the glow sticks,” Mason said, pointing to the unopened package of glow sticks sitting next to the pile of valentines.
Seeing the look of confusion that flickered across Natalie’s face, I clarified, “He means tape one to each card.”
“Oh, so they look like lightsabers?” she replied, catching on quickly. “How clever!”
I nodded. “I wish we could take the credit for it, but Dawn came up with that idea a couple weeks ago. I’m pretty sure she uses Pinterest, too,” I added, picking up my sandwich to take another bite.
Natalie smiled as she opened the package. “I’m sure the kids will love them. And the parents will probably appreciate them getting glow sticks over Pixy Stix. The teacher, too.”
I laughed through a mouthful of turkey. “Yeah, can you imagine all these little ‘-aydens’ and ‘-aylees’ running around a kindergarten classroom, hyped up on pure sugar? Poor Miss Jewell.”
Natalie shook her head. “I could never. I hope y’all got her a nice gift for Valentine’s Day.”
I was glad Dawn and I had gone shopping two weeks ago, right before our ill-fated trip to Alpharetta. “Does a box of gourmet chocolates and a fifty-dollar gift card count?”
Natalie nodded. “I’d say that’s a pretty good gift!”
“Dad, what’s the next name?” Mason asked impatiently, his pencil poised over a blank Yoda valentine.
“Whoops, sorry – I’ve been slacking off here,” I said, looking back at the list. “Braxton. B-R-A-X-T-O-N. Like the contractions.” I winked at Natalie, who laughed.
“I was thinking more of Toni Braxton,” she admitted.
When I heard her say that, I couldn’t resist breaking into song. “Unbreak my heart… say you love me again…”
“I love you,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss me while Mason wasn’t looking. But she wasn’t as stealthy as she thought. When we broke apart, we found him watching us with an expression of pure disgust upon his face.
“Ew. You guys are weird,” he muttered as he pushed Braxton’s valentine into the pile.
We both laughed. “Later,” I mouthed to Natalie, looking forward to kissing more than her lips in the privacy of my locked bedroom. But, in the meantime, I also enjoyed just sitting at the kitchen table with her and Mason, working together on his valentines.
“What color glow stick should I give Braxton?” she asked, holding up his card.
Mason considered it carefully. “Well, Yoda’s lightsaber is green, so… I guess green.”
Natalie nodded. “Good idea. What about Aiden?”
Mason barely glanced at the Obi-Wan Kenobi card, which read, I’ve got a GREAT feeling about this Valentine’s Day! “Blue,” he said automatically.
“You got it,” said Natalie, tearing off a piece of Scotch tape. “Thanks!”
I smiled, glad to see the two of them getting along again. More than ever, it made us feel like a family. But as I looked around the table, my eyes landed upon Dawn’s empty chair, and my smile faded. For a moment, I had almost forgotten that our little family was missing a member.
***
“I’m worried about what things are gonna be like around here when Dawn gets home,” I admitted to Natalie later that night. “Hopefully this will make things easier for her, but if I know her as well as I think I do, she’s gonna hate having to use it.”
It had been over an hour since I’d gone upstairs to put Mason to bed, which had taken me longer than usual. He had insisted that I read him the picture book Dawn had written about us twice before I turned out the lights, and, even though he was supposed to be in trouble for the way he’d treated Natalie, he had gotten his way because I felt guilty for leaving him with her. Now I was back downstairs, trying to help her set up the new Hoyer lift that had been delivered earlier that day so that we could go to bed, too.
“Well, I already hate it, too.” Natalie heaved a sigh as she looked at the folded metal frame lying on the hardwood floor in front of her. “Why would they make a piece of equipment that was designed for people with disabilities so darn heavy?”
I felt her frustration. It had been hard enough hauling the huge, heavy box into the house, let alone unpacking it. I still didn’t know how we – a man in a wheelchair and a woman in a walking cast – had done it, but, working together and using my wheels to our advantage, we had somehow managed to drag it through my front door.
I had to hand it to Natalie: she really was stronger than she looked. But the three long days she’d spent with Mason were clearly catching up to her; she looked exhausted as she leaned against the wall in the entryway with her legs stretched out straight in front of her, still breathing hard from the effort of manhandling the Hoyer box.
“You and me both, babe. But it has to be built sturdy in order to hold up to four hundred pounds or whatever it claims it can handle. Anyway, the weight won’t matter once it’s all set up because it’ll be on wheels. Dawn will be able to lift me with the push of a button and roll me anywhere she wants – and so will you. You know I don’t want you trying to transfer me in and out of bed with a bum ankle,” I told her. “It’s not safe for either one of us.”
“All right, fine,” she sighed, reaching for the instruction manual she had retrieved from the box. “Let’s figure out how to put this thing together.”
“From what I read online, it’s supposed to come fully assembled,” I said, casting an uncertain glance at the flattened frame. “It folds up like this so we can travel with it. We just have to figure out how to unfold it.”
“Oh, thank the Lord.” Natalie leafed through the pages until she found the right section. “Here,” she said, placing the open manual in my lap. “Read me those directions, would ya?”
Looking down at step one of the assembly instructions, I read, “Stand the lift in the upright position in a triangular stance.” Using the diagrams under each step, I was able to direct Natalie as she attempted to follow them. “No, not like that. Turn it toward me. There you go. Now release the leg and mast assembly by unfastening the restraining strap from the wheels…”
Ten minutes later, the lift was upright, unfolded, and almost ready for operation. But, before we could use it, we had to charge the battery, which could take up to four hours, according to the manual.
“Babe, it’s almost ten,” said Natalie, stifling a yawn as she glanced at the grandfather clock. “That means it’ll be two a.m. before we can use this thing. I say we just transfer you the old way tonight and try it out tomorrow morning.”
I nodded, knowing we would have to wake up early the next day – it was one of my long mornings, and Mason had school. “That’s fine with me, as long as you think you can handle it. If not, I could always call Jerald and ask him to come over and help.”
To my relief, Natalie raised her eyebrows and gave me an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? We’re not gonna bother your brother at ten o’clock at night. I can handle it. With my trusty boot on, it should be no trouble,” she replied, flashing me a tired smile as she raised her right foot in the air.
One at a time, we took the elevator upstairs, Natalie wheeling the Hoyer lift slowly alongside her. She parked it against one wall of my bedroom, plugging its battery pack into an outlet to charge while we got ready for bed.
I had planned to show her how much I’d missed her and try to make up for lost time, but neither of us had enough energy to do anything more than lie in bed next to each other. Poor Natalie couldn’t stop yawning as she stumbled through my night routine, and I didn’t make it any easier on her. After a long day of traveling, my body was stiff, and my spasms were worse than usual. “Sorry,” I said, wincing when I nearly kneed her in the face while she was trying to take off my pants.
“It’s all right,” she replied, patiently waiting for the spasms to subside so she could continue undressing me. “Not your fault.”
But I felt like a bad partner for piling so many burdens on her back. “Thanks, baby,” I said when she finally crawled into bed and snuggled close to me under the covers. “Seriously, thank you for everything you’ve done for us in the past week: taking time off work, driving the van up from Atlanta, going skiing with us, flying Mason home by yourself, and filling in for Dawn these last few days while I was working. You’ve taken great care of the two of us when we should have been the ones taking care of you.”
“I don’t mind – really,” she insisted, reaching up to stroke the side of my face. Her fingers found their way to my earlobe, one of my post-injury erogenous zones, and pulled gently on it. “You know I would do anything for you, right?”
I nodded, closing my eyes as shivers of pleasure shot down the back of my neck and into my shoulders. “Mm-hm. You’ve more than proven that,” I murmured. “I just hope you know how much I appreciate you.”
“I know… but it never hurts to be reminded,” she replied flirtatiously, running her hand through my hair. “I’m too tired tonight, but you can make it up to me tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Valentine’s Day. I smiled and wrapped my arms tighter around her, hugging her to my chest. “Sounds like a plan.”
***