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I didn’t answer right away. She had been telling me the same version of that since I woke up in the hospital. I heard her every time. I just hadn’t figured out how to stop wanting more for myself. Andre came back into the living room with his bag over his shoulder.

“Alright, Mr. Browne. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“What are we doing tomorrow?” I asked.

“We’ll see how you’re feeling when I get here.”

“That means more walking?” I asked.

“That means we’ll see how you’re feeling when I get here,” he repeated.

“Man, get out my house,” I said with a chuckle as I shook my head.

“Have a good afternoon,” he said with a laugh.

Eternity walked him to the door while I finished my water. I could hear her thanking him before she closed it and came back. We had been having these sessions in the living room, but I had made a mental note to get one of the spare rooms on the ground floor set up just for my rehabilitation. There was an empty one right across from my office that could be set up with everything that I would need. Once I started walking again, I would just convert it to a home gym.

“You want me to turn the television on?” Eternity asked when she made it back to the living room.

“Nah. Come sit with me.”

She lowered herself onto the couch again, and I moved my chair closer so I could hold her hand without making her lean over. For a while, neither of us said anything. She rested her head against the back of the couch, and I watched the sunlight coming through the windows. My legs were still tired, but the shaking had stopped. I thought about those three steps again. Although I didn’t want to give myself the credit, that was progress. I looked over at Eternity. Her eyes were closed, and her free hand was resting on her stomach. I squeezed the hand I was holding, and she squeezed mine back without opening her eyes. She was all the motivation that I needed. Tomorrow, I’d get up and do the work again. For her, the work was worth it.

ETERNITY

Malik and I sat downstairs for a while before finally heading upstairs. I was thankful the shower was big enough for both of us. We had put a shower chair in it for him, and there was still plenty of room for me too. This road to his recovery had been a little shaky in the beginning, but now he moved more independently. He did what he could on his own, and I helped with the rest. By the time we both finished washing, we were both ready to get in bed. Now Malik was stretched out on our low platform bed, with his wheelchair beside it. I sat next to him in my robe, with my hair wrapped up. I was trying to remember whether I’d packed everything we needed for the hospital.

“You comfortable?” I asked.

“Yeah, baby. You?”

“I will be once I stop worrying about that hospital bag.”

“Bring it over here. We’ll go through it together.”

I reached for the bag beside the dresser and set it between us on the bed. I unzipped the bag and pulled out the little blue sleeper I had picked for our son.

Malik reached for it.

“This what he coming home in?”

“That’s one of his options.”

“One of them?” He looked at me. “How many outfits this little nigga need?”

“Malik.” I laughed and nudged his arm. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just asking.”

“Three. I packed three because I don’t know which one I’m going to want him to wear.”

He held the sleeper up by its shoulders and looked at the tiny sleeves.

“He better fit in this.”

“He will.”

“You don’t know that. Look how big your stomach is.”