“As for getting you to physical therapy, we will be taking turns,” Mom said.
“I can take him, Mrs. B.,” Jere said. “It doesn’t make no sense to have one of you drive all the way here when I’m already here.”
“That is a good idea. He is built for lugging around heavy objects,” Ronnie said, casting him an appreciative glance. “If you fall, no way can these scrawny arms get you up.”
“Hey, I’m not fat, not yet. Give me a few months,” I retorted with little joy. “I’m sure the lack of mobility and depressive eating will pack on the pounds.”
She came around to the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. She sang, “You’ll always be beautiful to me.”
“Stop,” I said, trying to hide my smile.
“All right,” Mom interjected. “Jere, thanks for volunteering. I can’t think of anything else right now, but if you two need something let me, or Ronnie know. Jere, promise me you won’t leave his side. I don’t want to have to bury my son because he was too stubborn to accept help getting out of the tub.”
“Not going anywhere, Mrs. B. Me and Danny are going to be like Velcro.”
It said something about my predicament when I couldn’t muster the energy to correct his speech. She blew out a big breath and seemed to be considering relinquishing her lease and moving into my apartment.
The thing was, I had wanted to move back in with her. The house she’d rented when she’d moved to Chicago for her job after I’d gone off to college was situated in the cozy suburb of Mokena. The loosely packed houses were surrounded by copses of trees. During summers between semesters and on holidays, I’d stay with her. Even now, I could smell the mist floating over the thickets early in the morning and hear the sound of egrets as they perched on the edge of the pond across from her house. In my mind’s eye, I saw the willow drooping over the water as the sun rose and sometimes, if it was a clear morning, the first rays of light hit the mist and turned it into a golden cloud. But I wasn’t ready to let go of what my life had been before the attack.
I said, “I promise I won’t do anything without help.”
Despite my wounded pride, the last thing I wanted to do was make my injuries worse. During my time in rehab, I’d Googled traumatic brain injuries on my laptop. I fell on the moderate end of the scale but there were those with severe deficiencies, who could no longer speak or walk, who werevegetables. So, I considered myself extremely lucky.
When Mom and Ronnie were gone, I scanned my immaculate apartment, feeling disconnected from it all. I’d just started to get settled in after signing the lease six months before, and now I was on the verge of losing it. Unless I won the lottery in the next few weeks, the eviction process would begin if the rental company didn’t allow me to break the lease.
Jere pushed his boots off by the heels and dropped them next to my shoes. Jesus, he had big feet, but he was big all over. Even as a kid, he’d been tall and thick. Sometimes it shocked me to see the transformation he’d undergone from a chubby boy to a budding body builder in high school. He’d even gotten me involved in weightlifting, but I’d been a skinny minnie and incapable of bench pressing more than seventy-five pounds. Of course, getting to watch Jere handle the weights with ease, his developing muscles bulging, had been worth it. I’d been attracted to him since I realized I liked boys at the tender age of twelve. He wasn’t classically handsome like the models on the cover of a men’s magazine, but he was strong, with great bone structure and a killer smile when he was feeling generous enough to give one.
I’d come to realize something in high school. Jere had two smiles. One reserved for friends and my mother that seemed more placating than anything. His other smile was only for me. It was the type of full-hearted grin that dimpled his cheeks and made him beautiful and filled his plain gray eyes with something he never got when looking at other people. Even his shitty father couldn’t take that away from him. Of course, I could be biased and seeing things that weren’t there. But that’s what happened when you were in love with someone. Everything about them was beautiful and special and you’d do anything to be with them. I’d also noticed he’d calmed down a bit. Matured. Which made me regret the years we’d been apart.
A fullness in my groin let me know I had to pee. I glanced toward the bathroom and bit my lip. It seemed so much further than ever before. Looking at Jere, who was arranging a mish-mash of shoes, I considered for a brief moment trying my balance, but I’d promised everyone I wouldn’t do stupid stuff that might give me another concussion.
“Jere? I croaked, my throat raw with pebbles.
“Hm?” he said, regarding at me with bright eyes as if he wanted to be of help. “You need something?”
I glared at the ajar bathroom door. Why did it have to be so far away? “I need to pee.”
He said nothing as he helped me to my feet by the crook of my elbow. When I was sure I had my balance, I took the first step on my sojourn to the bathroom. I made it halfway before my leg jerked and I swayed.
“I got you,” he said, his grip around me firm. “Keep walking. I won’t let you fall.”
We made it to the bathroom, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said good-naturedly. “You’ll be ready to run a marathon soon.”
I barked a laugh. “More like race a wheelchair.”
“That would be an even more remarkable achievement than winning the Boston marathon. Wheels of fury.”
We got to the toilet and the cold dread of denial wrapped its icy fingers around my stomach. But Jere gave me my dignity again by pressing my right hand against the wall, and my left on the sink counter to balance myself.
“Spread your legs,” he said against my ear.
Heat shot through me, and I swooned from the surge. I waited so long to hear him say that. Except, it was totally benign.
“It will help with your balance,” he said and lifted the toilet seat.
He stepped away and turned his back to me.
