“Can you please turn around?”
“Turn around and go where?”
“That building,” I answered, turning around in my seat and pointing at the building on the right side of the street that we had just passed.
“The senior citizen complex?”
“Yes. My grandmother lived there.”
He spun around quickly, not caring that the light was not green or that a large sign stated that U-turns were prohibited. Deuce sped back through the light, swerved into the parking lot, and parked in an empty spot. He shut the ignition off and turned in his seat to face me.
“What do you want to do?”
Rather than answer him, I leaned into the back seat and grabbed my cane before I turned around and opened my door. Deuce jumped out of the car and rushed to my side before I could put my feet on the ground.
“I’ve got it.” I waved him away, and he stepped back. I had made great strides in therapy and no longer used my wheelchair, but I did still need a cane. Sometimes, when I was home alone, I would toss it aside and try to walk without assistance.
Sometimes, I failed, and sometimes, I triumphed. I hadn’t told Deuce yet, because I didn’t want to disappoint him.
It was difficult, because I seldom recognized my life anymore. I spent days in bed, tossing, and turning not willing to get up because I was battling depression. My bank account had rapidly dwindled as Waverleigh had paid off credit card bills, student loans, my phone bill, car note, and car insurance, but there was little income to replace that. Thankfully, I hadn’t had other bills at the condo, because Ethan had always taken care of those.
Deuce had welcomed me into his home, and as days morphed into weeks, we found an easy cadence that worked for us. He didn’t mention me finding a place of my own, and whenever I brought it up, he shut it down just as quickly, so I stopped.
Deuce stepped aside as I climbed out of the car.
“Are we going inside?”
“No. I’m going to my grandmother’s favorite place,” I explained as he walked beside me.
I could tell that it was a struggle for him to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to reach out and grab my elbow or hand to make sure that I was steady and safe. I appreciated that from him, but I appreciated even more that he trusted me enough to do this on my own.
I walked around to the side of the building and pulled the white gate open that was typically left unlocked during the day. Deuce followed me and closed the gate behind him.
I finally allowed him to grab my fingers as I traversed over the pebbled sidewalk toward the garden area where I used to sit with my grandmother.
His fingers felt nice against mine, and my hand felt like it was right where it belonged. Deuce had not spoken on his feelings about me since that day that I confessed that I liked him. Although Deuce wasn’t big on words, I could tell that he cared about me.
I looked for his feelings to be expressed through his actions. He showed it in the tender things that he did like bringing me my favorite blanket, soda, and snacks whenever I sat in front of the TV watching a movie marathon, or if I fell asleep on the couch, he would carry me to my bedroom and tuck me in.
I loved how he brought my favorite snacks back from the grocery store or would fix my favorite Mediterranean dish when I was feeling a bit down. He always listened to me and paid careful attention to what mattered most to me. I didn’t need him to speak his feelings, because he showed me every day.
We sat side by side on the bench and looked out at the garden of zinnias and marigolds. There were various types of flowers, including roses in all colors, but the zinnias and marigolds were my grandmother’s favorite.
“We used to sit out here for hours sometimes, reading books together, praying, singing gospel songs, and her sharing stories about my granddaddy, and my daddy when he was a little boy. She would tell me stories about my mother. My mother and father had met when they were both fifteen, and my grandmother said she always knew that my mother was the one for her son.
“She spoke fondly of my mother, and I was glad that she loved her as her own. I often wished that I had known my mother, but my grandmother made sure that I did. She often shared stories about my mother as much as she did my dad, and she always had pictures to pull out that somehow, I had never seen before.”
“She sounds like she was a great woman.”
“The best.”
“I’m glad that you had her after you lost your father. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose that many special people in such a short span. Although I have seen it in my line of work. Unfortunately, I have seen entire families wiped out in one day.”
Deuce reached out and linked our fingers together. Warmth spread through me as he rubbed his thumb along the back of my hand. I found myself leaning against him as we sat in silence for a while. Eventually, he wrapped his arm around me as a shiver ran through me when the sun dipped a little.
We sat there for a while longer before someone came out and called out to us. “Excuse me. I’m sorry, but this garden is only for the residents.”
I sat up, hearing the familiar voice, but it wasn’t until I saw the face of the woman that I knew who was speaking to us. They had probably just finished dinner, which explained why the garden was empty. She may have been walking down the hallway that led to this garden, on her way back to her office.
