After four long weeks in hospitals and clinics, he — and his fancy new prosthetic leg — were coming home to Benevolence.
Per his physical therapy team, he was going to stay with his mother for a few weeks before they released him into the wild.
Harper waited an entire day and a half before she went knocking on Mrs. Moretta’s front door on her lunch hour. Seeing Aldo in the flesh would put to rest nightmares that had plagued her for the last month. She shifted the bag of goodies into her other hand and knocked on the screen door.
It was drowned out by shouting.
“For the love of God, Ma. I’ve spent the last two weeks with you. You’re driving me fucking nuts.”
“That’s a fine way to talk to the woman who dropped everything to nurse you back to health because you couldn’t swerve around a bomb,” Ina Moretta shouted back.
“You played Candy Crush and yelled at me if I didn’t turn on ‘The Price is Right’ everyday,” Aldo roared.
“You aren’t driving yourself to PT. I don’t care how big and tough you think you are. So you’re welcome to walk. Go ahead and hitchhike. See if I care. I didn’t raise you to be a grown man who shouts at his own mother.”
“That is exactly who you raised me to be!”
Harper gave up on knocking and stepped inside. She dumped the bag on the floor and cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hey!”
Aldo crutched into the foyer from the living room, and Mrs. Moretta poked her head out of the kitchen.
“Come right on in, bursting into my house like that. Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” Mrs. Moretta yelled.
“They must have died too soon, I guess,” Harper said in a decibel or two above her usual conversational tone. The shouting was contagious.
Aldo blindsided her with a bear hug, dropping his crutches to the floor. Harper grabbed him and held on for dear life. He was home safe and yelling at his mother. It was another step in the direction of normal.
“Pick up your goddamn crutches! You know the doctors don’t want you walking unassisted yet!” Mrs. Moretta continued on in some colorful Italian.
“I’m glad you’re home. And alive,” Harper said, her face smashed in Aldo’s barrel of a chest.
“I will marry you and have your babies if you get me the hell out of this house. I have a PT appointment in thirty,” he said, stepping back. Harper looked him up and down. He was dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt. His gleaming new prosthetic left leg began a few inches below the knee and ended in a sneaker.
“Luke might have a problem with the first, but I’d pay money to see the second, so it’s a deal. Besides, I want to see what you can do with that hardware.”
“I can do anything. They just won’t fucking let me,” Aldo muttered.
“If you don’t do what the doctors tell you, you’ll end up screwing up your stump or breaking that thing,” his mother warned pointing at his prosthetic.
Harper saw red in Aldo’s eye and decided to force a truce.
“Mrs. Moretta, I’m going to take Aldo to his appointment today. Is there anything you need while we’re out?”
Mrs. Moretta grumbled for a moment. “Well, I supposed I could use another box of Chardonnay.”
At the car, Aldo tossed his crutches in the back seat and lowered himself into the passenger seat. He dropped his head back against the headrest and sighed. “I love that woman, but I swear to God, one of these days one of us is going to murder the other.”
Harper snickered and shifted into reverse. “That was World War III in there.”
“That’s what happens when you spend two fucking weeks straight with Ina Moretta. I think it was her goal to drive me crazy.”
“I hear that’s what moms are for,” Harper said, backing down the driveway into the street. “Where are we going?”
Aldo directed her out of town to the north.
“By the way, there’s a bag of goodies in the back for you,” she told him.
Aldo swiveled in his seat and grabbed at the gift bag. “Where’s the candy?” he demanded.
