“Think that’s all that’s wrong?” Cooper asked as she dumped the trash.
“I hope so. Guess we’ll find out.”
As Jewel drove them home, Cooper was focused on her phone, and Jewel began to feel even more guilty. If only she’d locked that door. Maybe Dad would be okay right now. She also felt sharp disappointment. Just when things had seemed to lighten up ... for everyone ... and now this. Ah, life!
Jewel kept her phone handy as she puttered about the house, fussing over things that didn’t need fussing over. Cooper had gone over to Anna’s to tell her the news. Although Jewel suspected she was just trying to escape her mother’s pacing and fretting. Finally, remembering that Dad loved blueberry muffins, she decided it was better to keep busy than worry. But by the time the last tray of muffins was cooling, it had been nearly two hours since they’d left the hospital, with no new messages. Maybe it was time to check in. After all, Mom had her blood pressure to consider. She might need moral support by now.
When Mom didn’t text back, Jewel grew even more concerned, but she busied herself with cleaning up the baking mess. Then her phone finally chimed. Jewel hoped it was Mom but was surprised to see a text from Miguel, offering to take her tothe hospital and even to sit with her. She sent an eager “yes!” in reply.
As he drove her to the hospital, she confessed how she was on pins and needles, worried about both her parents. “I realize it’s not really my fault, but I wish I’d locked that door last night.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” he said. “You know how your dad is.”
“Idoknow how he is. But that’s even more reason to protect him.”
“But what if you can’t?” He stopped for a traffic light. “I mean, sometimes we just have to let some things go and admit we’re human and make mistakes.” He turned to look at her. “And then forgive ourselves ... I think someone lectured me on this recently.”
“The light’s green.” She knew he was referring to when she’d talked about rebuilding bridges with Aaron.
He grinned. “You can’t control everything, Jewel.”
She grimaced. “I can’t controlanything.”
“That’s probably true. Think about it, what can you really control?”
“Good point. I certainly can’t control anyone in my family. Good grief, I can’t even control myself sometimes.” Now she confessed how many blueberry muffins she’d consumed while baking today, and they both laughed. Not for the first time she thought Miguel was good medicine. Especially for her.
33
Honey
By the time Honey drove CT home from the hospital several days after his accident, she knew that he’d suffered a broken hip, shattered an ankle, and had an injured knee, which would be looked into more later. She also knew that CT, probably thanks to pain pills and sedatives, did surprisingly well in the hospital by himself. She’d spent the first night with him, but seeing that he’d slept pretty soundly, she only stayed through the surgery the following morning, then went home that afternoon, exhausted.
While CT had been undergoing surgery to put some pins into his ankle, a hospital social worker named Barb met with Honey. After answering some routine albeit intrusive questions about CT’s living conditions and whether it was a safe environment, which Honey could neither confirm nor deny, Barb began to talk about his recovery. Her first recommendation was nursing home care. Naturally Honey balked at the idea, and Barb switched gears ever so slightly. Showing more concern for Honey’s health and well-being, she described various options for CT’s care ... later on. Things like home nurses and physical therapists who made home visits and finally hospice for those last days. Honey pretended she was listening, then reassured Barb that they’d all know when they were ready for that. Not that she ever would be...
Once again, Barb had changed routes, suggesting some practicalways to make CT’s home recovery easier for everyone. From that point on, Honey wrote down everything Barb told her, then texted the list to Jewel, asking her to round these things up. But the last nugget of wisdom the social worker had shared, Honey had written down for herself. Barb said to practicedetached amusement. At first Honey was confused. What did that mean? Barb reminded her that little could be done to change the outcome for CT. He would continue to decline, doing the unexplainable, getting lost and confused, probably falling more. But if Honey could step back and see the humor in it, perhaps even laugh, it would be easier on everyone. She remembered times they had laughed.
Just last week, they’d laughed uncontrollably in bed after she’d made the simple remark that the wind wasn’t blowing. It’d been blustery all day, and the nighttime peace and quiet was lovely. But with his hearing aids out and his mind scrambled, CT kept mishearing her. “Not snowing?” he asked. “Need mowing? Sowing?” After several repeats, she was shouting at him—so much for peace and quiet—and finally she told him never mind. Of course, he misheard that too and more tries only made it worse until his guesses were so nutty, she cracked up laughing, and he did too. Sure, he didn’t know why he was laughing. Maybe she didn’t either, but it lightened the moment. Detached amusement.
It seemed miraculous, but somehow Jewel had gotten Barb’s recommended supply list together. Just last night, Jewel had assured Honey the equipment would be delivered and in place before Honey and CT got home from the hospital today. Not only that, but Miguel had built a ramp on the front deck. Did this mean caring for CT would be easy? She doubted it, but with Jewel and Cooper’s promised help, she wasn’t too worried. And the prescribed tranquilizers and pain pills they’d picked up at the hospital pharmacy on their way out would probably help too.
“Have you missed home?” she asked CT as she turned into the driveway, pausing a moment to text Jewel they were here.
“Home?” He was clearly confused. Earlier today, he hadn’t even recognized her. Probably due to all the medical workers that hadbeen in and out to assist him. He thought she was his nurse. But after some conversation, and a kiss, he got it. She was his Honey.
“Home is Honeymoon Cottage,” she said cheerfully.
“Home ... Honeymoon Cottage,” he echoed in a pleasant tone.
She spotted Jewel and Cooper in front of the cottage, waving a warm welcome. “Look, it’s Jewel and Cooper.”
“Huh?”
She suspected he didn’t recognize those names at the moment, but it didn’t matter. As she parked as close as she could get to the house, Jewel pushed out a wheelchair and then, like a three-ring circus, they attempted to get CT into the chair, over the gravel, and up into the house. Fortunately, probably thanks to the pain pills, he didn’t complain too much. And when he saw the welcome home sign and balloons, he was as delighted as could be.
“Birthday?” He clapped his hands.
“Sure, why not,” Jewel said, and she broke into the happy birthday song, with Cooper and Honey joining in. “Come see your room,” Jewel said to her dad. “It’s all fixed up for you.”
