I opened one of the boxes, pleased to find the power sander I’d left at Ben’s home. I checked box after box, relief washing over me as I found all my tools and supplies. My bag was there too, and I checked that everything was accounted for, including my wallet, where I’d hidden a photo of Sebastian. Nothing was missing.
I dusted my hands and got to my feet. I wasn’t good with social etiquette, but I knew I had to do something to repay Janine for all this. I would ask the girls for ideas. I took out my phone to write a group text and spotted a notification from my bank app. Tapping on it, I saw the transfer from McFarlane Enterprises. It was the amount we’d agreed upon, right down to the last penny. Of course Ben’s company was paying for decorating his personal property. I didn’t care. I was done with the jerk.
Lucy surprised me with amazing news. She’d decided to stay on and work full time at the store. She loved managing the business and had a talent for it, so she intended to get a dual degree in business and art. This was an ambitious project, but she’d already enrolled in NYU’s School of Professional Studies and had found programs that allowed her to combine online classes, evening and weekend classes, and the occasional seminar. I was thrilled to let her keep her place at the store.
“This job could be my internship,” she explained, beaming. “I really love it, and I have so many ideas on improving the business. If you’ll have me, I’d like to work for you for a year, maybe two, until I get to know the business inside out. Then, I hope to open my own business.”
“If I’ll have you? Girl, you saved my life and my sanity.” I reached out and pulled her into my arms. “How about we start with a little raise?”
The business was booming under Lucy’s care, so I could afford proper compensation for my new store manager. I believed in fair rewards. The money I’d made from Ben had improved my financial situation. I’d also started working on a waiting list for clients who’d contacted me for private projects after seeing my art exhibit and reading some positive reviews in several newspapers. On a professional note, things were looking up.
Over the next few days, I established a new routine. I woke up, fed Robin, and scratched his chin while explaining that I had to leave to earn money for his gourmet kibble habit. I spent my mornings at the hospital with Sebastian, then went to the hardware store for the rest of the day. After I closed late in the afternoon, I would swing by the hospital once more. Sebastian was doing well and we expected him to be discharged on Saturday.
On Friday evening, the girls and I went out for drinks. Ange came up with the idea of organizing a little welcome home party for Sebastian.
“I don’t know, Ange.” I took a swig of Pepsi, looking at Lily for help. “He’s still weak, and he’ll probably be overwhelmed. I don’t think a party is the best thing for him right now.”
Ange took a sip of her martini, her red nails tapping against the glass. “I’m not talking about a real party, with strippers and a DJ. Just a nice, warm get-together with friends. We’ll decorate the apartment, order some food and non-alcoholic drinks... At the first sign that he’s tired, we’ll be out of there.”
Lily smiled at me. “Knowing Sebastian, he’d like that kind of welcome home. We’ll keep it short—no music, no dancing, nothing too exciting, but enough to show how much we all care.”
“We could play a little soft jazz in the background,” Sue said. She crossed her legs on the bar stool, anchoring herself in place with her high heels.
“And we’ll make sure we only order healthy, nutritious food,” Nikki added. “We know he’s just started down the road to recovery, so we won’t tire him out.”
I looked at their faces, my resolve melting layer by layer. I’d hoped for an intimate reunion with Sebastian, but my friends made some great points.
“Okay, a small welcome home celebration sounds really nice. I’ll call Janine and invite her, too. Thanks, guys.” I raised my beer in a toast. “Where do we start?”
Despite our resolve not to go overboard, by the time we finished decorating Sebastian’s apartment that evening, the place looked pretty festive. A large banner adorned the hallway, withWelcome Home Sebastianwritten in sparkling letters. Different sized balloons added to the joyful vibe—minus two, which had tragically fallen into Robin’s claws. Several vases of fresh flowers decorated the apartment, along with scentedcandles, and the few streamers that survived the kitten’s attentions.
We’d bought fruit juice, soda, iced tea, and a chocolate cake that had originally boastedHappy Retirement Larry, but which Sue had artfully transformed intoWelcome Home Sebastianusing canned frosting and melted chocolate.
We’d each bought little gifts and cards that we thought Sebastian might like. Ange had chosen a stylish tie with a constellation motif. Sue picked a bell that hadRing for sex & foodprinted on it, and a mug with an image of a broken bone and the humorous slogan, Sipping my way to a bona fide recovery. Nikki went with her pragmatic instincts and bought him a pillow to elevate his leg; as thoughtful as ever, Lily had purchased a gift card for a month of meal deliveries, knowing that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to cook, and I was incapable of creating anything edible.
As for me, I bought a slutty nurse outfit that showed how stupidly in love I was. It was the kind of outfit I wouldn’t have worn in a million years, for a million bucks, but I was ready to squeeze myself into that silly thing, if only to make the shadows of sadness vanish from his eyes. If that present didn’t cheer him up, I hoped the second one would. It was something I’d painted the previous night, inspired by a poster I’d seen. It pictured Frankenstein’s monster and his bride. I’d captioned it,I see your scars, and I still think you are the most beautiful person in the world.I meant every word.
Saturday morning, the girls came over to finish decorating. As I drove to the hospital to get Sebastian, Janine texted that she was on her way to the apartment. I was glad she was joining us.
I wasn’t in much of a party mood. I hadn’t slept well all week without him. After the enormity of the accident had settled in, each night I’d had nightmares, sometimes several on the same night, about him crashing his motorcycle. I pictured himplunging through the storefront, glass tearing his body into a million pieces. At other times, his motorcycle caught fire, while I stood a few yards away, unable to move, paralyzed in front of doom and darkness.
Maybe I should ask Lily about therapy. Did Sebastian have the same dreams? Would he be willing to undergo therapy? Sometimes, men could be stupidly stubborn about mental health issues, which led to a higher suicide rate in men than in women. They thought they had to be stoic, rather than have a good crying jag and release some stress. But society didn’t go easy on men who showed emotions. All I could do was support Sebastian and hope he might feel comfortable enough to open up to me.
When I arrived at the hospital, I pulled into the patient pick-up zone and went upstairs. Sebastian’s things were already packed, and the doctor had signed the release forms. Sebastian waited for me in a wheelchair, chatting with some of the nurses at the desk.
He looked better than he had all week, and beamed when I walked toward him. He wore the short-sleeve, buttoned, space-print shirt and shorts that I’d bought especially for the occasion, with a sling supporting his left arm. The shorts were long enough to cover the bandage on his left thigh. Beside him was the cane he would need for the next week or so.
“Looking great, babe.” I bent to kiss his clean-shaven cheek. “Ready to go home?”
He gave me a million-dollar smile. “More than ready. Take me out of here, please.”
“Happy to.”
After a brief chat with the nurses and some cheesy goodbyes from his admirers, I pushed the wheelchair down the hall and pressed the button for the elevator. We rode down in companionable silence. When the doors swished open, I pushed him to the exit where I’d left my truck.
I helped him stand and swung the bag with his belongings over my shoulder.
“Come on, big guy. Let’s get you home.”
