“Picture books, Stephen. She loves picture books, especially ones with animals.”
A huge grin blossomed across his face. “Then I’ll find her the best goddamned picture books money can buy!”
***
Tim never got rattled or angry about his situation. His humor and positive attitude, along with the support of his sister, friends, and Jessica seemed to help speed up his recovery. His motor skills, including his balance and coordination, prevented him from being self-sufficient in those first two weeks after the accident. A physical therapist worked with him daily to help him get stronger; blown away by his strength and agility. The rigorous sessions paired with the ongoing medications he took while his brain healed left him in a daze and some days he was too exhausted from the morning therapy sessions to do much of anything else. The tiredness, headaches, and problems concentrating were after-effects of his delicate surgery, and he often had trouble sleeping because he was getting a steroid to reduce the swelling in his brain. On most nights, Trudy gave him a sleeping pill so he could get at least a few hours of sleep.
Two weeks to the day after his surgery, the staples were finally removed from his head, and he was released to a regular room for observation. If all went well, he’d be out of there just in time to celebrate baby Jo-Jo’s birthday.
“Didn’t you say Stuart called?” Tim asked, lying upright against a bank of pillows on the bed.
A large bouquet of pink roses sat on the bedside table, a bi-weekly gift from Mrs. McDonald. Hers were the only flowers he allowed in the room. A steady stream of flowers, balloons and San Francisco 49ers paraphernalia was delivered to the hospital daily, Tim insisting the excessive number of gifts be shared withallthe patients. It was overwhelming to be back in the spotlight, the media begging for an exclusive interview. Thank god Stuart Harding was still handling things from California while he recovered.
“Yes. He wants to talk to you again about retiring your jersey during a home game this fall. I think by then you’d be more than healed and able to travel. And maybe you won’t have that GI Joe look going on either,” Tabitha giggled, slurping on a smoothie while sitting cross-legged in a chair next to his bed.
Tim smiled, rubbing the back of his shaved head. The deep wound in his head was healing, the places where the staples kept his flesh together leaving a jagged scar on his scalp.
“Battle scars,” Jessica had gently reminded him, her angelic face full of love. She was right. It was, perhaps, the most significant battle he had ever fought, and he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
They had agreed he would recover at the Southers home with Jessica and the girls, her parents insisting they not worry about a thing. Jessica’s house was devastated in the storm; the only items salvageable coming from the basement. Even her car that had been sitting safely in the garage was totaled, the force of the large trees coming down on top, catastrophic. The loss of his expensive sports car was minor compared to what the Kaufman girls had lost. It would take time to rebuild, talk of moving in together a no-brainer.
Tim was more than ready to get out of the hospital. But Dr. Olson remained cautious, warning him of the complications that could result if he took on too much too soon. As a pro-athlete in the NFL, Tim had suffered more than one concussion during his career, which further complicated his recovery. Dr. Olson was optimistic but wanted to keep an eye on him during this critical time. He wasn’t supposed to lie flat to rest or sleep and was told to avoid heavy lifting and strenuous exercise. This was going to be hard for an athlete used to conditioning his body on a daily basis.
“I don’t know, Tabitha. Seems like I should fade away with the Georgia sunset and everyone in California would be just fine.”
His sister scowled. “Don’t you get it? Everyone wants to see you fully recovered, Tim. Everyone wants to see youwin.”
Tim shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to go back.”
Tabitha unfolded her legs and sat erect in the chair. “Please, think about it. This would be closure for you, and the fans. Everyone loves a hero. So what, you weren’t theSuper Bowlhero. You’re areal-lifehero, and that’s what makes this more meaningful! Let the fans love you again, Tim. Have that moment with them you’ve been pining for since you left, on your home turf with your home team. Let them see for themselves the incredible hero you were always meant to be.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Southers home teemed with friends and family, the brick mailbox out front decorated with a dozen pink helium balloons indicating the girlie party inside. Tim was thankful to be out of the hospital, recuperating under the watchful eyes of Jessica, her girls, and her parents. The home where she grew up was huge and comfortable, framed photos of her Southern life spread out on walls and bookshelves by her proud parents in every single room. He loved looking at pictures of her as a baby and in her youth, the numerous cheerleading and prom queen photos of a much younger Jessica filling him with melancholy for his own youth as a rising football star. There was still a wedding photo of her and Stephen tucked up high on a shelf, the giant headpiece she wore and over-the-top makeup obscuring her natural beauty. She was almost unrecognizable next to the stiff, unsmiling Stephen Kaufman. It was a premonition of sorts that the marriage wouldn’t last. The rest of the framed photos spread throughout the home were of the Kaufman girls, a testament of the Southers love for their granddaughters.
Jessica’s childhood room hadn’t changed much, the frilly canopy bed and striped pink and white wallpaper a little girl’s dream. Over the years, Mrs. Southers had added another bed with a trundle to accommodate her daughter’s growing family. She had even turned a spare room into a nursery, complete with a crib and rocking chair. The Kaufman girls were comfortable being at their grandparents. It was, after all, their home away from home, loaded with familiar toys and grandma’s comfort food.
They had talked about moving into Tim’s house in the woods while he recovered, but his modern home was entirely too barren and secluded for Jessica’s energetic brood. It made more sense for them to stay with the Southers until they could make plans for renovations or decide on a brand new home altogether.
Tabitha’s husband, James and their two daughters, Ava and Emma, had arrived the day before the party and were staying at his house for the rest of the week until they headed back to California. Tim was indebted to his only sibling for being there for him during this tumultuous time. Ava and Emma fit right in with the Kaufman girl club, Julia and Ava becoming fast friends. The word “cousins” popped into his mind, making him smile.
Martin Hernandez and his daughter Luanna were part of the celebration along with Mrs. McDonald, Elizabeth and her husband Jacque. Even Nurse Trudy made an appearance, insisting her prize patient needed a dose of her famous fried chicken she added to the bounty of food laid out on the dining room table. The home was a buzz of birthday activity—Jo-Jo’s sisters helping her open the colorful gifts that surrounded her on the floor.
For reasons unknown, Stephen Kaufman arrived solo and was entirely flustered as he tried to speak with Tim for the first time since the storm. It was as if he were star struck, stammering out an apology, his face turning beet red in the process. Tim assured the man he was forgiven and shook his hand firmly before Stephen presented him with an expensive bottle of Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon.
“I should have offered you a glass that first day,” Stephen grieved. “I only drink this on special occasions. You saving my daughter Julia, and my ex-wife for that matter, is indeed a special occasion.”
“Well, when the doctor gives me the all-clear, I’ll be sure and save this for when we can have that glass together.”
Tim sat in a comfortable chair most of the afternoon and was doted on by all the women and girls. He couldn’t help but watch Jessica flit about the space, her cheeks flushed with the color of love as they celebrated his homecoming and her youngest daughter’s birthday. She caught him staring on more than one occasion and would bite her lip demurely before coming over and giving him a quick kiss on the mouth.
When it was time for the happy birthday song, Tim sat at the head of the kitchen table with baby Jo-Jo on his lap. Elizabeth humorously placed a pink pointy birthday hat over his beanie-covered head, so he matched the rest of the children. Holding Jessica’s baby girl in his arms, his heart flooded with gratitude and he smiled with adoration as the entire group sang happily around them. He helped blow out the single candle on the cake and dipped his finger into the frosting, touching it to Jo-Jo’s tiny mouth. When she realized what was in front of her, both hands smashed into the cake amidst a roar of laughter, and she was soon covered in the confectionary treat.
“You have cake behind your ear,” Jessica teased, wiping his face after the baby was taken from his arms to be cleaned off. He had cake all over him, Jo-Jo offering him fistfuls of pink and white frosted morsels as friends and family looked on. He had never been happier in his life.
“I have cake on my lips too,” he whispered.
“Oh, you do?” she asked, gazing up into his face. Being this close to her, he was more than ready to lie in bed and count the freckles peppered across her nose.
