We slept in the next morning. I was the first one to wake, opening my eyes to find myself lying on my left side in the same position Natalie had put me in the night before. She was curled up next to me in a similar pose, her body pressed close to mine so that I was spooning her from behind. From that angle, I couldn’t see whether her eyes were open or closed, but I could tell by the sound of her steady, deep breathing that she was still asleep. With each breath, her right shoulder blade shifted slightly as her rib cage expanded and contracted, creating a subtle sense of movement in the crow tattooed above it. Its feathery wings appeared to ripple, as if it were ready to take flight. I watched it with fascination for a few seconds as I listened to her soft snores.
I had drifted off to sleep with my right arm draped loosely over her, but now I wrapped it tighter around her waist, hugging her to my bare chest. My hand drifted up and down her torso, slipping over the silky fabric of her red lingerie. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, and exhaled with a soft sigh of contentment.
I lifted my head to look at the clock, wondering what time it was and how long I had until my alarm went off, then remembered that it didn’t matter: Mason had spent the night at my mom’s house, so we didn’t have to get up right away and hurry through my morning routine like we usually did in order to get him ready for school on time – and, since we’d done my bowel program the previous day, I wasn’t worried about sticking to my own schedule either. For once, Natalie and I could stay in bed for as long as we wanted, which was a rare luxury for me these days.
“That’s right, Colby Jack,” I whispered, noticing Natalie’s orange cat curled up in the space behind my knees. “You’re not the only one who gets to be lazy this morning.” One of his pointed ears twitched toward me when he heard his name, but he kept both eyes closed tight and continued snoozing.
Of course, I knew we couldn’t lie around all day. I had a therapy appointment that afternoon, and I wanted to be up and dressed by the time Dawn’s parents drove her home. I hoped Natalie would help me make the place look presentable, so Dawn wouldn’t feel pressured to do housework the moment she walked through the door. In the ten days since her hospitalization, we had let things go a little, but I intended to ease Dawn back into her duties and do whatever I could to lighten her load while she adjusted to her new limitations. A part of me was still wondering what it would be like once Natalie went back to work, but, for the moment, I was able to push my worries and fears to the back of my mind and think about nothing except the beautiful woman sleeping in my bed. For the moment, I felt at peace with the world.
As I lay there, watching her sleep, I heard birds chirping outside my window. Despite the dull, gray clouds in the sky and the chill in the air, their cheerful song reminded me that winter was almost over, and spring would soon be on its way.
“The darkness doesn’t last… even when the night seems long,” I sang softly, my voice low and gravelly from sleep. “The sun comes out each morning… as the blackbird sings its song. And the rain won’t fall forever… even when the sky is gray. The storm cloud’s silver lining… means a rainbow’s on its way…”
At the sound of my voice, Natalie stirred. “Mm… what’s that you’re singing?” she murmured as she rolled over to face me.
“Just a little something I wrote in London,” I replied with a smile.
“I like it,” she said, beaming back at me. “You’re so talented, baby.”
“Thanks.” Someday, I would sing the full song for her, but I didn’t want to do it while we were both lying in bed, barely awake. She deserved to hear it performed the right way – and I was still waiting for the perfect moment to surprise her with it.
“I mean it,” she added as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “You’re a singer… a songwriter… an artist. What can’t you do?”
I laughed. “That’s a long list.”
“But it’s getting shorter,” she remarked. “I mean, just in the last week alone, you’ve gone skiing and painted a beautiful piece of art. I’d say that’s pretty impressive!”
Glancing past her to the pair of bird paintings we had left propped in an antique armchair the night before, I realized Natalie had a point. Over the past year, I had done so many things that I’d previously thought I would never be able to do again – and many of them were thanks to her. My attempts to impress her with creative date ideas and prove myself as a worthy partner had made me more courageous, more willing to take risks and try new things. “I guess you just bring out the best in me, babe,” I said, smiling at her.
“That goes both ways,” she replied, leaning in to kiss my lips. “I love you.”
I drew my arm tighter around her, dragging my hand up and down her back. “The feeling’s definitely mutual, my love.”
As we lay like that, cuddling in each other’s arms, my gaze kept drifting back to the two birds perched on the tree branch in my painting. I suppose it was the bright spot of red on the blackbird’s wing that drew my eye, just as it had the night before. Every time I looked at it, I was reminded of the black bird I had seen hovering over my hospital bed. But, rather than triggering traumatic memories of my time in the intensive care unit, it made me feel proud of myself and how much I had improved since then. My physical recovery may have plateaued, but the previous night had proven to me that I was still making progress with my emotional recovery. I remembered what it was like to be that broken man who had lain helplessly in his hospital bed with tears trickling down his face, unable to move his arms well enough to reach up and wipe them away… but I didn’t identify as him anymore. While a part of me remained damaged beyond repair, I wasn’t broken. Not anymore. I had spent the past five years picking up the pieces of my personal life and painstakingly putting them back together as best I could, the way one would with a gently-used jigsaw puzzle that’s missing a couple of pieces. Much like my painting, my life was far from perfect, but it was still pretty beautiful.
Despite the difficulties I faced, I felt grateful to have been given a second chance at life, and I didn’t want to waste one more second of it wallowing in grief over what I had lost. Instead, I focused on what I’d gained. Glancing over at my girlfriend, I gave her one last squeeze and said, “We should probably get up soon.”
Natalie groaned. “Not yet. Let’s stay in bed a little bit longer.”
“A few more minutes… but then I need to take my meds.” I could feel the neuropathic pain kicking in, a faint pins-and-needles sensation in my feet and legs that would worsen into burning, stabbing pangs if I didn’t head it off soon with my prescribed pharmaceuticals. Plus, with all the water and wine I’d had to drink the night before, I figured my catheter bag was probably close to full by now and would need to be emptied before long.
I didn’t mention that last part to Natalie, wanting to enjoy a few more minutes of normalcy with her before we began my morning routine. Lying next to her in bed with the covers pulled up over my body, it was easy to pretend we were just like any other couple. I loved being on the same level as her. But once she pushed back the covers and got out of bed to begin my morning routine, she wouldn’t just be my girlfriend anymore. She would become my caregiver. And while she had proven that she was capable of performing that role without killing the chemistry we had, I still preferred to have Dawn handle the most intimate parts of my personal care.
“No, you’re right,” Natalie said, rolling out of my embrace. “We should probably get up now. I don’t want you to be in pain.” She sat up abruptly and pulled the comforter down.
“I’m okay for now,” I started to protest, but she had already swung her legs over the side of the bed and started strapping on her boot. She padded into the bathroom, leaving my unclothed body partially exposed to the cold air. She must have had to pee, too, I thought to myself as she closed the door behind her. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes, I heard the toilet flush, followed by the sound of water running from the sink.
When she came back out, Natalie was carrying my pill case. Just like the previous day, she dispensed my morning dose of drugs into my palm and watched as I popped the handful of pills into my mouth. “So, what time do you think Dawn will be home?” she asked as I took a big swig from my water bottle, trying to wash the bitter tablets down my throat without tasting them on the back of my tongue.
Swallowing, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before I answered her. “Probably not until later this afternoon. It’s a two-hour drive from her folks’ house, and she has a follow-up appointment with her cardiologist at twelve-thirty, I think,” I said, trying to recall what Dawn had told me when I’d talked to her on the phone the previous day. “She mentioned wanting to take her parents out to lunch afterward, so they probably won’t make it back here much before three.”
“Well, do you want me to go with you to P.T. or wait here in case she gets back early?” Natalie asked as she turned down the covers to take off my condom catheter.
“You can hang out here. Dawn knows the code to get in, so that’s not a problem, but I don’t expect you to come to all my therapy sessions. It’s not the most exciting thing in the world to watch.”
“I don’t mind,” she insisted. “I think it’s interesting!”
“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug.
After my morning routine, we went downstairs and made ourselves a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Natalie cooked the eggs while I worked the toaster and made the coffee.
“Teamwork makes the dream work, baby,” I said as we sat down at the kitchen table together to eat. Threading my thumb and forefinger through the loops on my adaptive knife, I spread some butter over my toast. “I think we should plan on fixing most of the meals around here for at least the next week or so. That’ll give Dawn some time to get back on her feet before she takes over kitchen duty.”
“Makes sense,” said Natalie, nodding. “As long as you don’t mind my cooking.”
“Of course not,” I replied. That was before I took my first bite of dry, rubbery eggs. After burning my tongue trying to wash them down with a big swig of hot coffee, I cleared my throat and added, “You know, Dawn could probably teach you a thing or two in the kitchen. She’s a pretty good cook herself.”
“Yes, Mason told me that, too – many times.” Natalie flashed me a lopsided smile, her cheeks flushing pink as she picked up a piece of toast. “I’ll try to learn,” she promised, taking a bite.
“We can learn together,” I told her, poking my fork through the pile of overcooked eggs on my plate. “I’m always up for finding new ways to do stuff around the house – especially now that Dawn may need more help. Speaking of which, I wanna tidy up around here before she gets home.”
Natalie took the hint. After breakfast, she helped me clear the table, load the dishwasher, and wipe off the countertops. Once we’d finished cleaning the kitchen, we tackled the rest of the rooms. I swept the hardwood floors by wheeling myself around with a dust mop while Natalie hobbled ahead of me, moving toys and furniture out of my way and dusting the surfaces that were too high for me to reach. By the time we were done, everything was back in its proper place, and the entire downstairs was gleaming.
“Hey, not too bad for a couple of crips,” I said with a grin, giving her a fist bump.
“Like you said, teamwork makes the dream work.” Brandishing her feather duster, she beamed back at me. “Here, give me your dust mop. I’ll go put these both back in the closet.”
“Thanks, baby.” As I watched her walk away, I thought wistfully, This is what life would be like if she lived here all the time. This is what life would be like if we were married. The dream could definitely work.
I thought about that on the way to my physical therapy appointment that afternoon. I drove while Natalie rode next to me in the passenger seat, her left hand resting on my thigh. Even though I couldn’t feel it, it was comforting to glance down and see it there. I tried to imagine what it would look like with a diamond ring sparkling on her fourth finger. Recalling my late night conversation with Nick in L.A., I wondered if he had gotten around to proposing to Lauren yet. I would have called him, but we pulled into the parking lot with only five minutes to spare, just enough time to get out of my truck and make the trek to the outpatient entrance.
When Corey met us in the waiting room, he immediately noticed Natalie’s crutches. “Oh no! What happened?” he asked, his eyes dropping to her wrapped-up right foot. I had dissuaded her from wearing my boot to the rehab clinic, figuring a physical therapist wouldn’t approve of her borrowing a walking cast that was clearly too big for her when she was supposed to be using crutches.
Natalie flashed him a sheepish smile. “I fell and sprained my ankle while I was ice skating in Aspen.”
“Well, that’s not good. What grade is the sprain?” he wanted to know.
“Grade three, I think. I tore a ligament,” she replied with a grimace. “I’m supposed to stay off it completely for another week before I can start putting weight back on it. But the good news is that I bought myself a couple extra weeks off work, since it’s kinda hard to push a cart up and down an airplane aisle on crutches.”
Corey chuckled. “Yes, I imagine that would be pretty difficult. I’m sure you’ve got a great doctor, but feel free to give me a call if you need help getting back on your feet or are still in pain in a few weeks,” he said as he escorted us down the hall to one of the therapy gyms. “Sprains can be tricky.”
“Nothing compared to the kind of injuries you see here, though,” I said, looking around the large room. In one corner, I saw an old man with a prosthetic leg practicing going up and down a set of stairs. In another, a young woman with braces on her legs walked slowly on a treadmill while wearing a harness that held her upright. Across the room, a teenage boy with a trach tube sticking out of his neck had been strapped into the FES bike, which sent electrical impulses through his skinny legs, stimulating them to pedal. Watching them reminded me of my time as an inpatient at Rancho Colina, the rehabilitation hospital in Los Angeles.
“No, but still nothing to mess around with,” replied Corey. “Especially when you have to walk in heels for work.” He caught her eye and winked.
“True,” she said, smiling. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Corey pulled a chair over to where we would be working, so that Natalie would have a place to sit. Then he turned his attention to me. “So, how was Aspen, anyway?” Corey asked as he assisted me in transferring to the therapy table. “Other than the ankle sprain, I mean.”
“It was good. Adaptive skiing was a lot more fun than I thought it would be… and Mason loved learning how to ski and skate.” As I spoke, I leaned forward, struggling to lift my left leg onto the table.
“Glad to hear it,” Corey said, keeping one hand on my back to help me stay balanced. “And how is Dawn doing? If I remember correctly, she was in the hospital the last time you were here.”
I nodded. “She’s doing a little better,” I replied as I wrangled my right leg onto the table, too. “She was discharged from the hospital a week ago, but I haven’t seen her since – she stayed at her parents’ place while I was out of town. She’s supposed to be back sometime today.”
“Oh, good. Well, give her my best,” said Corey. Then he patted the top of the table. “Go ahead and lie on your back for me, and we’ll work on some bed mobility skills.”
“Sounds good.” Leaning back on my elbows, I gradually lowered my upper body onto the padded surface until I was lying flat. “So, I took your advice and ordered myself a Hoyer lift to use at home,” I said, looking up at the white ceiling tiles. “It just came the other day.”
“Oh, yeah? Good for you,” said Corey. “How’s that going?”
“We’ve only used it a few times, but so far, so good.” I glanced over at Natalie, trying to keep a straight face as I recalled the creative way in which we had utilized the lift the previous night.
“Personally, I love it,” she said with a wide grin, her brown eyes twinkling. “It’s made things so much easier for us. One night was all it took to change Kevin’s mind about it – right, babe?”
“Uh-huh…” Thankfully, Corey had me practice my rolling technique next, which was strenuous enough to hide the real reason I was turning red. I swung my arms back and forth across my chest, trying to generate enough momentum to roll myself from my right side to my left and back again. It wasn’t easy – after a few repetitions, I was already out of breath.
Next, he rolled me onto my belly and had me try to activate my triceps by pushing my torso up off the table and holding myself in that position for as long as I could. “Hey, Nat, what yoga pose is this?” I called out, trying to take my mind off the pain in my arms as they trembled uncontrollably beneath me.
“Cobra pose!” she called back. “Looking good, Kev! Keep it up!”
“You’ve got a good cheerleader back there,” Corey said with a grin, catching me across the chest as my arms gave out, my upper body collapsing back onto the table.
“I know. She’s the best,” I replied, breathing hard.
“Maybe she’d like to assist with this next exercise?” Turning, he beckoned to Natalie. “Come sit right here on the side of the table,” he told her, patting a spot behind me. “You can hold Kevin’s calves to help stabilize him while I get him into a crawling position – or cow pose, as I believe it’s called in yoga.”
“Okay,” Natalie said eagerly, the tips of her crutches squeaking on the freshly-waxed tile floor as she hobbled over to us.
Corey helped me rise onto my hands and knees. He stood behind me, straddling my legs and holding onto my hips. “Now, I want you to use your arms to move your weight back and forth while I guide your hips,” he instructed me. To Natalie, he explained, “This will help with his hip flexion, which is important for transfers and maintaining proper posture when sitting.”
“Yeah, and it probably looks real awkward from certain angles,” I added, gritting my teeth.
Natalie laughed. “Gee, babe, I don’t know what you mean,” she joked.
If the fellas could see me right now, they would never let me live this down, I thought ruefully as I rocked my body back and forth.
By the end of the session, I was totally spent. My arms felt like limp noodles as I pushed myself laboriously across the parking lot, Natalie crutching along next to me. I was grateful for a good excuse to go slow.
“Thanks for letting me come along today,” said Natalie as she climbed awkwardly into the truck, sliding her crutches into the back seat.
“Anytime,” I replied, starting the engine. “Thanks for all the encouragement.”
We got back to the house around two-thirty. There was still no sign of Dawn, but I did find Mason’s overnight bag on the kitchen table, along with a note from my mom, letting me know she’d left a casserole in the fridge for later. “She must have let herself in to drop this stuff off while we were gone,” I said, showing Natalie the note.
“Aww, that was so nice of her! It looks pretty good, too,” she said, taking a peek inside the refrigerator. “At least we won’t have to worry about what to fix for dinner tonight.”
I could tell she was a little apprehensive about being on kitchen duty. “What do you normally do for dinner when you’re not working?” I asked. “Do you just order takeout all the time?” I wondered how she managed to stay so thin if most of her meals came from restaurants or the freezer section of the grocery store.
“When I’m in L.A., I usually pick up pre-packaged meals from Trader Joe’s,” she admitted with a shrug. “But back home in Atlanta, I eat whatever my roommate Sarah makes. Unlike me, she actually enjoys cooking, and she’s really good at it! So whenever I’m around, we split the cost of groceries, Sarah cooks the meals, and I clean up the kitchen afterward. It’s a pretty good arrangement.”
“Makes sense,” I said, nodding. But hearing her refer to Atlanta as “back home” had raised other questions in my mind. “So, how much longer do y’all have left on your lease?”
I remembered her telling me back in October that she was going to continue paying her half of the rent on her apartment in Atlanta so that she could use it as a crash pad for work until her lease ended. “But if things continue to go well for us, I’d be willing to reconsider my living situation in a few months,” she had said during my birthday dinner. Four-and-a-half months later, I felt like our relationship had never been better.
“It’s up for renewal at the end of June,” she replied, leaning against the counter. “I know we’ve talked before about me maybe putting in for a base transfer to L.A. at some point… but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I really don’t feel like that would be the best plan for me – or for us.”
I had taken a deep breath and held it when she’d started talking about the future, waiting hopefully for her to tell me she was ready to get rid of her apartment in Atlanta and move the rest of her stuff into my house in Los Angeles. But her last few words hit me like a punch to the gut. All of the air rushed out of my lungs as if they were nothing but a pair of popped balloons, leaving me with a limp, deflated feeling. For a second, I could hardly breathe. “Why not?” I asked hoarsely.
“Because it doesn’t make sense. Most of the time, you’re here. If I lived there, I’d be clear across the country – and there’s no direct flight from L.A. to Lexington like there is from Atlanta. It would be a lot better if I stayed based in Atlanta but lived here.”
“Here as in… here?” I asked as I looked around the kitchen, afraid to get my hopes up. “In this house? With me and Mason?”
Natalie nodded. “And Dawn,” she said, a smile spreading slowly across her face.
I wanted to smile, too, but her sudden change of heart had left me confused. “But I thought you didn’t wanna have to commute to catch your flights from Atlanta.”
“True, it’s not ideal, but a lot of flight attendants do it,” she replied with a shrug. “And it would beat taking two flights from L.A. every time I want to see you… or continuing to pay for an apartment that I barely use. I could get used to commuting if it meant spending more time with you.” Adjusting her crutches under her arms, she hobbled closer and bent down to kiss me. “That’s what matters the most to me.”
“Me too,” I said, my lips tingling from her touch. “I like this plan.”
“What about Mason?” she asked hesitantly. “Do you think he’ll be okay with me living here full time?”
“It may be a bit of an adjustment at first, but he’ll be fine,” I assured her. “He’s already used to having you around. This week was hard for him, but I think a lot of that had to do with Dawn. Life will go back to normal for him once she gets home.”
As if on cue, I heard a car door slam. I hurried out to the front porch, where I spotted an unfamiliar car sitting in the driveway with its trunk open. Dawn and her dad stood behind it, unloading what appeared to be bags of groceries, while her mother waited in the passenger seat.
“Here, Dad, hand me some of those,” I heard Dawn say as she held out her free hand.
“No, I’ve got this, honey,” insisted her father, who already had both hands full. “The doctor doesn’t want you lifting anything too heavy now.”
“I’m pretty sure she was talking about weights, not Walmart bags,” Dawn replied, rolling her eyes behind her dad’s back.
“Need some help?” I called down to her.
When Dawn glanced up and saw me watching from the front porch, her whole face lit up with a smile. “Hey!” she hollered back, waving with her free hand as she walked up to the house, her overnight bag from the hospital slung over her opposite shoulder. “I think we’ve got everything, but if you wanna be helpful, you can hold the door for us.”
“Of course,” I said, wheeling myself out of the way. I waited just inside the house, keeping one hand on the door handle to prevent the front door from closing as Dawn and her dad carried their bags inside.
“You can take all that to the kitchen, Dad,” she told him, dropping her duffel bag by the front door. “Just down that hall and through the doorway.” She pointed him in the right direction, then turned to me and heaved a sigh. “Damn, it’s good to be home!”
“It’s good to have you home,” I said with a grin, opening my arms to give her a hug. “How ya doin’?”
“I’m okay,” she answered as she bent down to embrace me. “I’d better go help my dad put away the groceries before he makes a complete mess of your kitchen. C’mon.”
I followed her into the kitchen, where her father was busy unloading the Walmart bags. “Y’all didn’t have to get groceries,” I said, surprised to see so much food spread across the counter. “We’ve got a whole freezer full of food, and, last time I looked, the pantry was still pretty full, too.”
“Yeah, well, this is all healthy crap to go along with my lovely new low-fat, low-carb, low-sodium, heart-healthy diet,” Dawn replied, rolling her eyes again. “I’m supposed to avoid processed foods – which is really friggin’ hard to do, by the way. But I figure, since my life may literally depend on it, I’d better try to stick to my meal plan.”
“We could all stand to eat healthier around here,” I said, patting my quad belly. “Right, babe?”
Natalie had sat down at the kitchen table and started unpacking Mason’s overnight bag. “Of course,” she said, smiling up at us. “Welcome home, Dawn.”
“Thanks, Natalie.” Dawn went over and hugged her, too. “I see you met my dad.”
Natalie nodded. “I offered to help him with the groceries,” she said in a hushed voice, “but as soon as he saw the crutches, he told me to sit down.”
“I believe it,” Dawn muttered back. “He’s been telling me the same thing all week, even though the doctor said it’s good for me to get up and walk around!” She said the last part at full volume, so her father would have no problem hearing her.
“Well, forgive me for wanting to dote on my daughter,” he said as he turned around, looking slightly disgruntled. “I don’t get to do it much these days. She’s usually too busy taking care of everyone else but herself.”
I felt a stab of guilt as I realized two things: First, he was talking about me and my family. Second, he was probably right. But I forced a polite smile onto my face as I looked up into his. “Nice to see you again, Mr. MacDonald,” I said, extending my right hand to him.
Dawn’s father was an imposing figure. Standing close to seven feet tall, he towered over me in my chair. He even dwarfed Dawn, who was almost six feet tall herself. With his broad frame and grizzled red hair and beard, he reminded me of one of the giants from Mason’s book of fairy tales. “Call me Dennis,” he replied, gripping my hand. Thankfully, he was a gentle giant. “You take care of my daughter now, you hear? Don’t let her work too hard. And give Glenda and me a call if anything happens to her.”
I nodded. “I will, sir. Dennis.”
“Just Dennis is fine,” he said with a grin. “I’d better get back out to the car – Glenda’s waiting. We’ve got a long drive home, and she doesn’t like for us to be out past dark.”
I’d met Dawn’s mom briefly at the hospital the week before. She was considerably overweight and walked with a cane because of her bad knees, so I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to get out of the car. “Well, tell her I said hello. Y’all take care and drive safe,” I told him.
Dawn escorted him out to the car so that she could say goodbye to her mother. When she came back inside, she slumped into a kitchen chair and lay her head back, looking exhausted.
Natalie and I exchanged worried glances. “Are you okay, Dawn?” she was the first to ask.
Dawn let out a sigh. “I’m fine,” she said shortly. “And, look, I love my parents. I do. But there’s a reason I never moved back in with them after my divorce, as I was reminded this past week. They’re a lot. It’s nice to be able to breathe again without being smothered by them.”
I laughed with relief. “Reminds me of my mom,” I said, remembering how overprotective she had been after my accident. “She’s more relaxed now, but you should have seen her right after I got hurt.”
“My parents, too,” Natalie said, nodding. “I mean, I’ve never had any major health problems – nothing worse than broken bones, anyway – but if I did, they would probably react the same way.”
Dawn flashed her a weary smile. “How’s your ankle feeling?” she asked, her eyes dropping to Natalie’s right foot.
“It’s fine as long as I don’t try to put weight on it or turn it the wrong way,” Natalie replied with a shrug. “How about you? How have you been feeling?”
“Better every day,” said Dawn. “But, to be honest, I don’t think I realized how bad I felt before.”
I frowned, feeling guilty again. “How did your follow-up appointment go today?” I asked her.
“Pretty good. I’m obviously not back to a hundred percent again yet, and I may never be again, but the new meds and diet plan my doctor put me on already seem to have helped some. My numbers are heading in the right direction. If I stick with it, I can hopefully do what Nick did and reverse some of the damage to my heart muscle.”
“That’s great news,” I replied, giving her an encouraging smile. “I know Nick already told you this, but I helped him stay on track while he was living with me, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you, too.”
Dawn smiled back. “Thanks, Kevin.” Glancing at the microwave clock, she said, “Hey, hadn’t we better head out to wait for Mason’s bus?”
Following her gaze, I realized it was already ten till three. “Shit, you’re right! I lost track of time. We can take my truck.”
“No, let’s walk, like we usually do,” Dawn said. “We can make it down the driveway in ten minutes.”
I gave her a doubtful glance. “I dunno… It’s kinda cold outside.” But, of course, it wasn’t really the weather I was worried about.
Dawn saw right through this lame excuse as she returned my gaze, looking irritated. “Please, Kevin… don’t be like my dad. The doctor said daily exercise is good for me. I promise, I can walk the length of your driveway and back without dropping dead.”
“All right,” I said apologetically, realizing I was inadvertently treating her the same way people had treated me after I became paralyzed: like a child. Dawn was an adult who could make her own decisions. I had to trust her judgment. “Let’s go.”
Natalie chose to wait inside the warm house while Dawn and I bundled up for the long trek down the driveway – because I wasn’t lying about it being cold. Our breath formed clouds in front of our faces as we huffed and puffed.
Despite her show of confidence, I could tell the walk was taxing for Dawn. In the two weeks since we’d last taken it together, she had clearly lost some of her stamina. But I didn’t address it. It was difficult for me, too, albeit for different reasons than Dawn. My upper body workout had left me physically drained. I could barely summon the strength to push myself down the driveway. By the time we reached the bottom, my arms were shaking, and my shoulders burned. I gave Dawn a sidelong glance, wondering if she was also wishing we had taken my truck. She didn’t complain as she punched in the code to open the gate, but I noticed the seemingly casual way she leaned against the stone pillar that supported it.
Once I’d caught my breath, I cleared my throat and said, “So, Nat and I were talking right before you came home, and she told me she’s ready to move in with us.”
Dawn raised her eyebrows. “Really? You mean, move into this house?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ha! I told you her bringing her cat up here was a good sign,” said Dawn, her face splitting into a triumphant smile. “But what changed her mind about living in Lexington?”
“I dunno… I guess she really did miss me.” I returned Dawn’s grin, realizing that following AJ’s advice to distance myself from Natalie might have actually made a difference. “Or maybe she just realized how much money she’s wasting by paying rent on an apartment she’s barely at anymore,” I added as I watched for the school bus. “Her lease is up in June, so she’s got a few months left to move the rest of her stuff. It may not happen right away. I’m gonna hold off on telling Mason until I’m sure she really means it, but I wanted you to know first.”
“Well, I appreciate the heads up. How do you think Mason will react to the news?”
“I’m not sure. Apparently, it was a pretty rough week around here…” I told Dawn about Mason giving Natalie a hard time while I was in L.A. “When I talked to him about it, he said he didn’t want her to be his new mom. I tried to reassure him that, even if I remarried someday, Kristin could never be replaced… but, turns out, he wasn’t even talking about Kristin. He meant you. He was worried I was trying to replace you with Natalie.”
“Aw. Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were. She’s a lot younger and better-looking than I am,” Dawn replied with a wink.
“Stop,” I chided her. “You know I would never do that to you. Mason and I would miss your cooking too much. Nat wasn’t lying when she said she was hopeless in the kitchen. Bless her heart – she tried making Belgian waffles yesterday. They were really bad. And the scrambled eggs she made this morning were almost worse.”
Dawn laughed. “Well, it sounds like we’d better make another batch of waffles with a side of scrambled eggs for breakfast tomorrow. I can teach her my ways.”
“Please do,” I begged her as the school bus finally pulled up in front of us.
The doors opened, and Mason bounded down the steps, his dinosaur bookbag bouncing on his back. “DAWN!” he shouted, running right past me as he made a beeline for her and launched himself into her arms.
I cringed as her dad’s words echoed in my mind, reminding Dawn not to lift too much weight and telling me to take care of his daughter. “Be careful, buddy,” I tried to warn Mason, but it was too late – Dawn had already hoisted him into the air as if he weighed practically nothing. She may have lost some of her stamina, but she hadn’t lost her strength.
“I missed you so much, kiddo,” I heard her telling him as she hugged him tightly.
“We missed you, too!” he replied, burying his face in her shoulder.
Watching the two of them together brought a tear to my eye, but I wiped it away before either of them noticed. Clearing my throat, I said, “C’mon, y’all, we’d better head back up to the house now. It’s cold out here!”
“Can we race?” Mason asked as he clambered out of Dawn’s embrace.
I shook my head. “Not today, son. I’m pretty tired; Corey kicked my butt in P.T. Let’s just take it nice and slow this time, okay?” I said, catching Dawn’s eye. She gave me a grateful smile.
“Okay,” Mason agreed. “Then can I push your chair?”
“Sure, bud. That’d be great,” I said, smiling back.
My arms may have been heavy, but as we started our leisurely stroll up the tree-lined driveway, my heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. With Mason pushing my wheelchair, I was able to look around and appreciate that beauty that surrounded us. The tree branches were still as bare as the ones in my painting, but in another month, new leaves would begin to bud. The brown grass would gradually turn green, and the fallow fields would come back to life as the farmers planted their crops. I looked forward to leaving the cold of winter behind and embracing the warmth of spring, but, for the moment, I felt at peace with the world once again.
***