“I do,” I leaned into his side and placed my head on his shoulder.
“I like the sound of that,” he said, right before his lips met mine.
Chapter 37: Theo
Lying around in a hospital bed made me cranky. Hence, no one called me a model patient. But after I woke up, and after the doctors and nurses had poked and prodded me and determined a couple weeks in the hospital would fix me up—physically anyway—my mood lifted. At least a little. Doc had been careful to come in each day, gauge my temperament, sit for several minutes to half an hour, and then walk away. I knew what was next: a thorough, in-depth session to get to the bottom of my behavior.
But my behavior was reckless, impulsive. I hadn’t thought about not being here before I decided to do it, had I? Mulling over the past hurt my head too much, but little bits and pieces did come to me as days crept by. Snippets of times I’d been snarky or flippant in my response to Doc’s questions. And of course, Doc confirmed them with her damn notebook, which she arrived with five days after I woke up.
“April sixth, May twentieth, October fifth.”
“What are those?” I rubbed my forehead as the window drew my attention. Even the dull gray sky of Ohio winter held more appeal than the beige cinder block walls and white curtains of this dungeon.
“Each of those is a date when you said something about being worthless, invaluable, and so forth.”
“Of course they are. Do you have the times on there too?”
“Glad to have the snark back, Theo. But yes, I do. And I have others, further back. Sometimes, I’m good at my job.”
Her words made me physically sit back against my bed. “What does that mean? Sometimes you’re not?” I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes, trying to take on the doctor role in this twosome.
“We’re not going there today, Theo. I’m here to check in on you and only you. And we need to come up with a game plan.” Doc tapped her clipboard twice.
“For what?”
“For what you need to do.” She tapped the clipboard again. If she didn’t stop soon, the tapping would drive me over the edge. Didn’t she know that?
“What I need to do is get out of here and go home.”
“Yes, but it’s not that simple,” she said.
Doc had always been savvy and good at her job, regardless of how she felt now. Which meant she was probably right: I had every intention of heading back home and doing what I had been doing, didn’t I? And according to Doc, that wasn’t the right approach.
“But why not? Why can’t I just go back to the way it was?”
She sighed and looked out the window, a thoughtful grin on her face. Then, she turned to me. “Do you believe it’s a possibility? To just get out and go home?”
“Well...why not?”
“You need to answer that.”
Argh. Classic Doc. She hadn’t changed in the time since I’d seen her, which felt like eons. She patiently waited, pen in hand, poised over the clipboard, as if ready to strike again, and a thought hit me. “Do you have a clicky pen?”
“A clicky pen?”
“Yeah. The kind you push down on and the tip comes out.”
“Ah, retractable. No. The sound of the click can annoy patients. I try not to have those. Why?”
“No reason.” I went back to looking at her, and she waited for me. She might wait for me all day. As much as I enjoyed a bit of company, I’d rather see the kids. Or Sadie. Crap, anything at this point would be better than being subjected to the detailed and honed eye of Doc.
“You’re waiting for me to answer the question, aren’t you?”
“You know me well.” She brought the tip of the pen up to her chin.
I sighed. “Well, can I just admit I don’t have an answer? I’m smart enough to realize if you’re asking me the question, life should not go on as it did before. But I’m not sure what to expect or what changes I need to make. My head hurts. Can I say that?”
“Yes, you can. But can I trust you to listen? To think about what I’m saying and to come up with a list of action items, together?”
“Pfft. Action items. That sounds funny. But yes.”
And over the course of the next hour, we came up with the list of things I would need to do: 1. Work on a resolution with Sadie; 2. Apologize to Andrew; 3. Find a place to call home; 4. Check on my place of employment; 5. Reassure the kids I wasn’t going anywhere (or at least as far as I could help it). I didn’t say it out loud, but I felt the need to apologize to Doc too. She’d trusted me, and my actions made her question her talents. While I was often an ass, it wasn’t something I aspired to daily.
Doc left me with my list and a homework assignment: to listen to calming music and contemplate the items we discussed. Had I placed them in order of priority? What would I need to do to get started on them? And how long would they take? Would I—
A knock sounded at the door, and Andrew poked his head into the room. “Have time to see me?”
A quick uptick in my blood pressure at the sight of him. Did I have time? How rude would it be to say no? I clenched my jaw. But then: “Are you sure you want to?”
“Yes. Even after all this, you’re my friend.” He moved toward the bed, pulled up the chair, and sat next to me. “Listen. I had no idea you and Sadie...you had a history. None at all. I’ve wracked my brain, tried to recall our conversations. Nothing. I came up with nothing. And she never said—”
“She never talked about me?”
“Not never. She just didn’t use your name. And I met her as Sadie Rollins. How was I to know?”
Could I fault Andrew for his feelings? The thought of him and Sadie still hurt like hell inside, like a splinter that wouldn’t go away. Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three.
Andrew tapped the arm of the bed. “I won’t be here long, but I wanted to at least say hello. Glad you’re back.”
Was he really? I wasn’t ready to speak with him for much longer, and while I could feign fatigue, with him there, marking one item off my list sounded like a good idea. “I’m glad you came by. I’m not going to lie. I feel like hell when I think of Sadie and you. But I have to apologize for what I did. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t go any farther—”
I held my hand up. “I have to, per Doc’s orders. Regardless of my fury, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” My voice cracked on the last word.
Andrew nodded. “Well, I don’t know what I would have done under the same circumstances. But I’m okay and you are too. So, apology accepted.”
“Well, thanks, but—”
“Mr. Lancaster?” My least favorite nurse entered the room. “It’s time for me to check your vitals, and to get you to the restroom. Would you—” She looked at Andrew, and he stood.
“Say no more. I’ll see you around, Theo.” He tipped his chin up. “I hope you’ll be back at work soon.”
“You and me both, buddy.”
Later that same afternoon, Charlie and Lexie stopped by. Delia had a cold and had been banned from my room, but I spoke to her via video call after the kids arrived. I was strong enough to hold Lexie on the bed next to me, arm wrapped around her little waist. She snuggled her head into my armpit and fell asleep while I chatted with Delia.
“Lexie hasn’t been sleeping well lately,” Charlie said when I’d ended the call. “But we haven’t had much of a routine these days.”
“You sound like your mother. Which isn’t a bad thing. Just mature, I guess. When did you get so old?”
“I haven’t changed, Dad. Have you?”
What did Charlie mean? In his mind, did I n
eed to change? Had he spoken with Doc or Sadie? The kid missed nothing; I knew that, but...this...I shook my head and smiled at him, laying a hand against Lexie’s head. “I guess we’ll find out if I’ve changed, won’t we?”
Charlie wrinkled up his nose and seemed poised to ask a question when the pesky nurse came back in.
“Seriously? Already? I feel like my room has a revolving door with you all.”
“I get that a lot,” she said and then gently picked up Lexie, placed her into Charlie’s arms, and shooed the two of them to the side. “This won’t take too long, but someone looks like she could use a better nap than what she might get in this hospital.”
“Mom’s right outside,” I said to Charlie. “Let her take you two home. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You promise?” Unlike the overly mature kid he was only moments ago, Charlie’s voice sounded young, unsure, and shaky.
“I promise.”
While one promise would not reassure the kids for long, it was a start.
. . . . .
After dinner had come and gone—emphasis on the gone, because rubbery roast turkey with lukewarm gravy, canned peaches, and red gelatin was a dinner I could seriously do without—Sadie stopped by. Brooke was at home with the kids, allowing us time to sit and chat. The last time we’d spoken had been at the cottage, that night she revealed all the details of her turmoil, Andrew, the life she was leading. And while I wasn’t over her—that would take a while—what she’d done wasn’t anything bad. Being attracted to another man when you’re anticipating divorce? Nothing wrong there. My hands shook as I admitted as much to her.
“I’ve been selfish,” I said as she took my hands and squeezed them, probably to calm my nerves. “I won’t get better overnight, and it won’t be easy because I love you and I always will. But you’re right, and I was wrong. We weren’t working, and why the hell was I holding on? I don’t know. Comfort? I know what I need to do. But doing it will be difficult. And that starts with finding a place and moving out.”
Her eyes twinkled, and she placed one of her hands against my cheek. “All in due time. You’re not the only one to blame. The fault is mine too. I’ve been busy—too busy—to consider what we were or weren’t doing. And I loved you—enough that I wanted to help you in whatever capacity you’d let me. But now, it’s time to break it off for good. Don’t you think?”
My chest didn’t break when she said those words, and panic didn’t rise inside my gut. I nodded my head, slowly, but steadily. “When I get out, we’ll talk to the attorney.”
“Together.”
“Yes. Together.”
Chapter 38: Sadie
Two weeks after he awoke, Theo came “home.”
His eyes glowed with happiness on the afternoon we drove up the snow-spattered driveway of his new rental place and stopped at the top. The icy porch sported mylar balloons and tissue paper flowers, and the door handle donned red, green, and blue crepe paper streamers. Pink doily hearts adorned every available window.
“Who did all this?” He scanned the entire length of the small house. There it was, almost February, and the Christmas lights had never been taken in by the previous tenant, and a random tree ornament still hung in one of the dormant dogwood trees flanking the garage. A smile twitched at his lips, and moisture glistened at the corner of his left eyelid.
I reached my hand out to his forearm as he took in the scene. “Friends, family, colleagues.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and tears fell freely now down Theo’s scruffy cheeks. “I don’t quite know what to say...it’s all—”
The arrival of the kids at the front picture window interrupted Theo, and he grappled for the interior door handle. By the time he’d hauled himself out of the car, with a bit of help from me, even Lexie had made her way to the edge of the driveway—arms spread wide, snow boots unfastened, huge smile affixed to her cherubic face. Carefully grabbing all three children into his arms at once, Theo rested his head on top of Charlie’s hair and stood there, looking stronger than I’d seen him in months. He stayed there for a long time, in the moment, smile on his face, head tipped to the sky. Tears continued to fall, and he didn’t wipe them away.
Theo’s return to the world could have been difficult, and the pre-accident Theo would have made it that way. But the post-accident Theo seemed like a changed man. And because he had changed—or at least was making a concerted effort to do so—my confidence soared. In who I was. In who we were. And in who we might be moving forward. And if my confidence waned, he found a way to bring it back.
Three weeks after he’d returned, during my favorite task of washing dishes—he’d spent the dinner hour with us—he called me out on my behavior.
“What’s with the silence from time to time?” Theo asked from behind me in the dining chair.
I grabbed the dish towel and dried my hands as I turned to face him. “What?”
“I’m still mostly the same guy I was when you met me, and you’re mostly the same girl you were when I met you. We might have added a few new characters to the plot,” he inclined his head toward Andrew, who sat in the family room playing a board game with the little kids, “but there’s no need for awkward silences, my dear.”
The grin on his face spoke more than his words, which, just like that, restored my trust in the idea we’d chosen wisely, and we’d make it, whatever our odd circumstances might be. That night, I finished dishes all the while chattering on about my day—the good and the bad—and Theo conversed with me in full. And after Andrew and his family reluctantly headed home, the kids drifted in and out of the kitchen. Charlie needed help with science homework he’d forgotten about, and Lexie wanted a book read to her before bedtime. Theo helped them both without reservation while I worked with Delia on her multiplication tables before taking on the bath duties and getting everyone to bed. Those mundane, ordinary actions became the cornerstone of our lives, and we performed them together on many nights.
And soon, we’d crossed the days off on the paper calendar and another Father’s Day was upon us. Unlike the year before, I planned to cook something special to commemorate the occasion. A few days prior to Sunday, the kids and I gathered in the kitchen to make a list for our celebratory dinner.
“What would Daddy like to eat?” I asked the kids.
“Pulled pork!” Charlie shouted.
“He likes strawberry pie,” Delia said.
“Peas! And potato chips!” Lexie chirped.
Charlie scowled. “Peas? For Father’s Day? Are you kidding me? Dad isn’t going to want peas.”
I ruffled the hair on Charlie’s head and then pulled him in for a side hug. “Hey, watch the tone, please. Lexie is still little. If she thinks Dad will want peas and chips, then that’s what we’ll do. Pulled pork, strawberry pie, peas, and potato chips it is.”
“And what about Andrew?” Charlie put a finger to his chin in his classic pose. “He’d like the pork, but he loves baked beans, corn on the cob, and éclair cake. Can we add those to the menu, too?”
Charlie’s words and acceptance of Andrew tugged at my heart. Unconventional family we were, but apparently, it worked for us.
“And one more thing,” Charlie continued. “What about a present? What are we—never mind! I have it. Delia, Lexie, come with me.”
The three kids ran for the back room and didn’t come out again for the rest of the afternoon. When they did, their eyes twinkled, and their mouths twitched.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” they all said.
On the day of, the kids and I, along with Andrew’s children, donned our aprons, pulled out all the necessary ingredients, and began chopping, grati
ng, measuring, and mixing. Theo and Andrew wandered in and out throughout the morning and reached over to each child in turn, tickling bellies and backs, or, in the case of Charlie, lifting fists up for a bump. By the time late afternoon rolled around, the kids and I were wiped out, all of us on kitchen chairs, waiting for the timer to ding.
Theo’s lopsided grin spread across his face as he and Andrew once again came through the kitchen. “It’s okay.”
“What do you mean?” I sat back against the chair, confused for a moment.
“I mean, it’s okay if Andrew and I serve dinner, considering all you guys did for us. Right Andrew?”
Andrew flashed his smile and winked at me. “Right.”
“And I mean we’re okay. I’m standing here, looking at you, at me, at all of us, and I’m happy. We’ll always be happy.”
Swallowing back emotion, I gripped the edges of my apron. “How can you say that?” Theo had always been the confident one. Did he know something I didn’t?
“I just know, Sadie, and I’ll leave it at that.” He took my fingers and squeezed them against his palm for a moment and then moved toward the chair. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Theo glanced at Andrew, who took two steps toward me and pulled me up for a hug. Not caring what the kids or Theo thought, he placed his hands against my cheeks, moved my face forward, and planted his lips against mine. After a quick nip he whispered, “Truer words have never been spoken.”
“Oh Mom, really?” Delia said.
“You’re blaming this on me?” I said. “What about Andrew?”
Delia blushed and smiled. Charlie, also laughing, stepped toward Theo and pulled on his shirt.
“Dad?” Charlie said.
“Yes?”
“Would you mind going to the den? Can you grab the two bags sitting on the desk?”
Theo looked at me, but I shook my head. I had no idea what Charlie had up his sleeve. When Theo returned, two small gift bags in hand, Charlie said, “Give one to Andrew, please. And open them.” Charlie’s wide smile, one of my favorite things about him, spread across his face.
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