“We’ll have to put in a ramp out front,” she said, pacing around the house nervously. “And I’ll need to set up a bed downstairs. I don’t think he’ll be able to climb stairs for a long time. I’m not sure how he’s going to go to school. Maybe I should look into homeschooling him.”
“Emma. Stop.” I grabbed her, holding her still. “We’ll figure all of this out. I promise. But we don’t have to have all of the answers right this minute.”
Emma looked up at me with tired eyes. “We’ll figure it out together?”
“Absolutely.” I pulled her into a hug, worried at how frail she felt in my arms. “You and T.J. are stuck with me now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” she said.
When I leaned down and kissed her, our first real kiss in so many years, all of our past troubles faded away. We were living in the present now, focused only on each other and our son. But when she took my hand and led me upstairs, I couldn’t help but start to dream about our future.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Emma
When we left the hospital, my body was aching for a hot shower and a long nap. But when it was time to get out of the car, that same body was also aching for Tyler. I invited him inside- first into my house, then into my bed, and finally into my heart. We took our time reconnecting, learning each other all over again.
Afterward, with the steam of the shower filling the room, Tyler traced the words I Love You on the shower door and I repeated them back. In his arms, I had never felt safer, never more loved. And even though the road ahead of us was going to be insanely difficult, I felt better knowing he would be taking the journey with me.
Later, we returned to bed, damp and wrapped in towels, and this time I drifted to sleep with my head on his chest, rising and falling with every breath he took. Our love had not been a perfect love, but I was still so thankful to have loved and been loved by him.
I returned to the hospital rejuvenated, convinced that there was nothing we couldn’t conquer together as a family. The first few days after T.J. woke up were especially hard. He was in a lot of pain, and he hated being stuck in bed. Nothing I tried cheered him up and I started to worry that he was becoming depressed. Fortunately, Tyler was a natural at parenting.
He brought in stacks of books for T.J. and then read them to him when he was too weak to sit up. He also brought in a guitar and they wrote short, quirky songs together about frogs and baseball, and other boy things. We finally got used to the idea of leaving him at night after we realized that the pain and sleeping medication he was on essentially knocked him out cold for at least ten hours.
But even though we could finally leave T.J. for the night, we couldn’t manage to leave each other. I got so used to Tyler sleeping next to me that I could barely remember a time when I hadn’t drifted off to sleep to the sound of his steady breathing with his strong arm around me.
When the doctor announced that T.J. would be able to go home in a week, Tyler and I reversed roles. I suddenly became the calm influence, content with watching endless cartoons with T.J. while Tyler couldn’t sit still for even five minutes. He spent every waking hour making preparations for T.J.’s discharge from the hospital.
We had been spending our nights in my house, but out of nowhere, Tyler insisted we go to his house instead. It had been two months since the storm and in that time I hadn’t so much as driven past his place.
My mouth dropped open when we pulled up outside. Somehow, Tyler had found time to finish rebuilding the porch, complete with a ramp.
“For the wheelchair,” he explained as I stared at it in awe.
“You did this?”
“Glenn helped a little.” He smiled and threw and arm over my shoulder. “Wait until you see the inside.”
Tyler’s surprises didn’t end outside. He’d had the inside of the house remodeled as well, and I suspected he’d also hired an interior decorator considering he now had new area rugs and curtains as well.
“You’ve been busy,” I said, wondering when he’d had time to do all of this since he spent almost every hour of the day with me or T.J.
“Glenn oversaw the contractors while I was at the hospital and Wanda did some shopping with my credit card.” He exaggerated a wince. “I learned my lesson on that one.”
“Contractors?”
“Ah, yes.” He took my hand and pulled me down the hall. “I finished turning this area of the house into the perfect convalescence area for a ten-year-old boy.”
He pushed open the door to his old bedroom and I was amazed by what I saw. The entire room had been transformed into a place that I knew T.J. would love. From the wall of stocked bookshelves to the flat screen television with every possible game console hooked up- it was a room that T.J. would never want to leave.
“He’s going to love this room,” I said. “I’ll never be able to get him to sleep in his old bedroom.”
“That’s kind of the plan,” Tyler said. “Wait until you see the bathroom.”
The bedroom had its own attached bathroom, but it wasn’t just any ordinary bathroom. It had a handicap accessible shower and a large Jacuzzi.
“You did all of this for T.J.?” I asked.
“Well the shower will be good when he first gets home and then later in recovery, the jets in the tub will probably be good for his leg.” Tyler ducked his head bashfully. “The master bath upstairs is even more impressive.”
“Oh, is it?” I wrapped my arms around his waist and looked at him hopefully. “Is that where we are headed next?”
“That depends on your answer to my question.”
“What question?”
“You mentioned that T.J. won’t want to go home when he sees this place.”
I nodded emphatically. “I won’t blame him. This place is amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so because I want this to be our home, Emma. Not just during his recovery, but for years after.”
“You want us to move in here with you permanently?” I asked in surprise. “Are you sure about that?”
“I spent thousands of dollars remodeling this place. I’m more than sure.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine. With his eyes so close to mine, it was impossible not to get lost in them. “Shack up with me, Emma. Please?”
I kissed him softly and said, “Let’s go check out that master bath.”
EPILOGUE
Tyler
“Slow down!” I yelled, cringing as T.J. sped toward the ramp.
“He’s fine,” Emma said, squeezing my arm.
T.J. was released from the hospital nearly three months ago, but I still hadn’t gotten used to him whipping around in his wheelchair. While I was glad he wasn’t letting it slow him down, I wished that he would be just a little more careful.
“I’ll get the door.”
I hurried ahead to open the front door for him and he zoomed right on by. “Thanks, Dad!”
The first time he called me that, a couple of weeks after he and Emma moved into my house, it had taken my breath away. He had used it a hundred times since then, but it never felt any less amazing.
“Good work, Dad,” Emma said with a smile. She knew just how happy that word made me. “He’s getting really good with that chair.”
“Just as long as he doesn’t get too comfortable in it. I think we can agree that we’ll feel much better once he’s walking again.”
“Give it time.” Emma froze at the top of the porch stairs.
“What’s wrong?”
The look on her face was indecipherable.
“This spot…” she looked down at her feet, then back at me. “This might be my favorite spot in the whole world.”
“Really?”
“Except, one thing is missing.” She held out her hand and I took it, letting her pull me close. “That’s better.”
“I don’t know. I think something is still missing.” I held up her hand, studying it closely.
“What?” Emma looked utterly confused.
&nb
sp; With my free hand, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the ring I had tucked away there that morning. “This.”
I held it up and it caught the sunlight, sparkling brilliantly.
“Will you marry m-” I started, but Emma didn’t let me finish.
“Yes!”
Her lips found mine and she melted into my embrace. I held her what felt like forever, then pulled back just slightly so I could slip the ring on her finger.
“I really love this porch,” she said with a small laugh. “But I love you even more.”
“I never though you and I would end up on this porch together again,” I confessed. “But I guess life doesn’t always work out the way you think it will.”
“No,” she agreed, “but it always works out the way it’s supposed to. I just thank God that we were supposed to end up together.”
“Ditto.”
This time when we kissed, I thought of that freckled girl that had kissed me on the cheek before giggling and skipping away. She had been my first love, the woman she had become was now my best love, and the woman I would grow old with would be my last love. That those three women could actually be the same woman was an amazing gift and it was one I would never take for granted again.
“Mom!” T.J. called from inside, following it with an even louder, “Dad!”
“Parenthood calls,” Emma joked. “What do you think he wants?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied, my heart full. “I’ll give him anything he wants.”
We both knew it was true; not just because he had me wrapped around his finger. Anything that T.J. would ask for would be nothing compared to everything he had given me just by being born.
“You spoil him,” Emma said happily, looking at her ring. “You spoil both of us.”
“You’ll make it up to me later tonight,” I said with a wink.
“Tonight,” she agreed. “And every night for the rest of our lives.”
I squeezed her tight and said, “Here’s to a long, long life.”
About the Author:
Hunter J. Keane lives in Chicago where she surrounds herself with good food, great books and fantastic friends. She is the author of the contemporary novels Searching for Glory, The Sweet Surrender, and A Rocker and a Hard Place. She is also the author of a number of young adult books including The Shadows Trilogy and CASTLE.
Keep reading for a sample from The Sweet Surrender – Now Available.
Connect with Hunter Online:
www.hunterjkeane.com
The Sweet Surrender
When I was in preschool, I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up. I thought it would be pretty handy to be able to fly or turn invisible, maybe even walk through a wall or two. As I developed a better understanding of how life works, I thought I could settle for being rich and famous.
People told me that money couldn’t buy me happiness, and maybe that was true, but it sure could buy you a lot of stuff. Now that I was an adult, I no longer had grand dreams for my future: I just wanted to make it through the day.
I couldn’t help but wonder if life had made me cynical or just realistic. I often heard people say to be careful what you put out into the universe because it would come back around like a boomerang and smack you in the face. Considering how badly life had been smacking me around over the past few months, I must have been emitting a lot of negative energy.
Rather than continue sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I decided to get my act together- positive thoughts and smiles for everyone. I could still grab ahold of my life and turn it around. But then again, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. I knew from experience that change would come whether I was ready for it or not.
I guess you could say my total meltdown was a long time coming- years of broken friendships, intolerable family gatherings, a disastrous engagement to a cheating loser, and a shoddy career. My life had been in a downward spiral for about two years, so it was only a matter of time before something pushed me over the edge.
That trigger happened two weeks ago when my boss decided that I was “no longer a good fit with the company.” Considering the company, I took that as a compliment. My employer was one of the many internet news sites that had popped up in recent years priding itself on a unique approach to journalism that incorporated all the newest fads on the internet- blogs, i-reporting, twitter- you name it.
Really it was just one of the many run-of-the-mill mediocre news sites where ambition surpassed the actual talent and content. I took a job there after getting my Master’s degree in journalism, hoping to use it as a stepping stone to bigger and better things. Instead of a stepping stone, the job turned out to be quicksand.
Everything started off promising enough. I was given my own column in which I was to write about “anything new and exciting taking place in the city.” That city being Chicago. I started off writing about movies being filmed, new art exhibits, and neighborhood events. After nearly a year of that monotony, I branched out into areas that I considered to be more relevant to the times.
I covered the move for immigration rights, the public transportation strike, and the protest at City Hall. I had received mostly positive reviews from my readers, but unfortunately, my bosses at Chicagoland Daily News did not agree. They felt my articles were “too controversial and not accessible enough” to the average reader of CLDN. Mostly though, they just didn’t understand the words I used without looking them up in a dictionary.
So, a short fourteen days ago, I packed the contents of my desk into a small cardboard box and said goodbye to CLDN. And then I went out drinking with some friends to celebrate. The day after that, I spent recovering. The day after that, I spent relaxing. The third day out, I started worrying about my future.
Fortunately, I had managed to save a portion of my measly paycheck every two weeks so that I wouldn’t have to rush into another pointless, depressing job right away. I thought maybe I would use my time off to travel more. Maybe go see the Great Wall or Thailand. The options were endless. Until the phone rang.
It was my mother, and she was not calling with good news. My father’s illness was progressing faster than expected and she needed some help taking care of things. Couldn’t I come home, “just for a little awhile?” she wondered. It would only be until summer when my brother and sister would be available to help her out.
Besides, it’s not like I had a job or family of my own to worry about, she politely reminded me. Despite everything inside of me that was screaming “No!” I agreed to come home.
Normally a trip home didn’t have to be cause for alarm, but nothing about my family was normal. My father had been a successful lawyer, and then judge, before his illness prematurely mandated his retirement. He had a boisterous personality, booming laugh, and sharp wit that often left people in tears. Unfortunately for his family, he also had no filter. What other people found charming and endearing in small doses became obnoxious and offensive when living with him on a daily basis.
My mother was a rare creature- genuinely kind and cruel at the same time. She possessed the rare ability to compliment you and insult you in the same sentence. For example, “Your hair looks much better like that than the way you usually wear it,” or, “You are so pretty when you actually put forth some effort.”
She was also a big fan of self-medication. Though she had no actual illness that any of her children knew about, her medicine cabinet was filled with prescriptions- uppers, downers, relaxers, and killers. You name it, the woman would take it.
The combination of these two people was unimaginable, yet so perfect. They were dynamic and explosive, and their combined DNA had created three of the most messed-up individuals on the planet. But they were also each other’s best friend and devoted parents which made up for whatever damage they had inflicted along the way. That was also what kept us coming back for more after all these years.
Which brought us to the present. I was sitting in traffic, my car packed with all the things I
would need to sustain me for a couple of months away from Chicago. I was headed to my hometown, Portstown, Illinois. I had lived there my entire life, until I turned eighteen and moved away to attend college. Portstown was located in western Illinois near the Quad Cities. It was about a three hour drive under normal conditions, but with the rush-hour traffic I was sitting in, it was going to take nearly four hours today.
Traffic had finally moved above a crawl and I was once again on my way. I had just been home in December to celebrate Christmas with the family, but somehow it seemed much longer to me. For me, going home was akin to going to the dentist. I dreaded going so I put it off as long as possible and when I left, parts of me were numb and yet other parts of me throbbed in pain. It was quite the phenomenon.
I feared this trip would be no different, especially because this would be an extended visit. The pleasure of my company was being requested for two months. That was two months in the most boring town east of the Mississippi. I could barely contain my excitement.
I was hoping it wouldn’t be all bad. It would be nice to have some time to relax outside of the city with nothing to worry about except not killing my family or myself. I had a nice stack of books sitting in the passenger’s seat next to me. I also had a lead on a short-term writing gig with the local paper. Apparently, a writer was out on maternity leave.
One of the best and worst things about small town life was that everyone knew everyone else. Since my mother knew the editor of the paper, I had a good shot at the job without even using my now questionable references.
So at least I would have something to do with my days when my dad-sitting services weren’t required. Plus, it would be nice to spend some quality time with my father. Talk about positive thinking. I was no longer going to be Debbie Downer. I should be called Happy Helen instead. What a coincidence- Helen was my name. The stars were aligning in my favor.
Crash!
“Shit!” I exclaimed as my head snapped wildly.
The car in front of me had slammed on its breaks without me noticing. Naturally, the car behind me also did not have time to stop, so my head snapped once again as I was crashed into from behind. What would have been a mild fender-bender under city speed limits had turned into a full-blown accident on the highway.
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