Where We Left Off

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Where We Left Off Page 22

by Megan Squires


  Even under all the injury, Heath was still one incredibly good looking man and the nursing staff didn’t hesitate to appreciate that.

  I flashed a smile. “He’s not sleeping, is he?”

  “Even if he is, I’m sure he’ll wake right up once he finds out you’re here. Seriously, that man does not stop talking about you.”

  Well then, let’s give him something to talk about.

  The halls were quiet this late in the evening. While still visiting hours, it was close enough to dusk that most people had gone home to give the patients a little time for rest. Sharon and Boone had only been available to watch Corbin after a dinner they had planned with friends. I figured Heath would be surprised to see me so late, especially considering both Corbin and I had spent most of the morning by his side, reading board books and watching baby television programs. Nothing brought a contented gleam to Heath’s eyes like being around Corbin, who he had recently affectionately dubbed his “best little buddy.”

  I was quickly falling in love with the way he loved him.

  My heart swelled with that thought as I rounded the corner to Heath’s room. The blinds on the window were slanted at a degree that made peering into them impossible, but the low light slipping through hinted that he might be awake. I knew that Nico and Natalie were supposed to come by for dinner like they did nearly every day, and it looked like they’d already left for the evening. My fingers lighted on the door and tapped softly.

  “Knock, knock?”

  He cleared his throat before calling out, “Yeah? Come on in.”

  When I toed the door open, the look on Heath’s face was enough to make me melt.

  “Mallory!” The sheets rustled around him as he fought to sit up in the inclined bed. “You’re back!” He held out his arms as if to ask for a hug and said, “I thought I didn’t get you again until tomorrow.”

  “You know I couldn’t wait that long to see you.”

  “Come on over here.” He flapped his hands impatiently. “But first, press that button for me, would you?”

  “The one to call the nurse?”

  “Yep.”

  I knew he tried to stifle it in an effort mask the pain, but Heath groaned as he adjusted his position in the bed. I pressed my finger into the red call button and didn’t let on that I could hear his discomfort.

  “Nurse’s station,” a tinny voice echoed through the speaker.

  “Hey, I, uh, just wanted to check to see if I need any vitals read anytime soon or if the doctor was going to be making his rounds or anything like that. Because if not, I’d like to rest for a bit without any interruptions.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. McBride. You’re all current on your medications and the doctor just finished up his shift. The next one won’t be on for a little while. We’ll leave you alone.”

  With a coy wink and smirk that dimpled his cheek, Heath gave me a thumbs-up.

  “What do you have planned that needs so much privacy?” I lifted my leg up and over the railing and wedged my body into the space next to Heath on the bed, careful to slide his tubes and IV out of the way.

  “Oh, gee, I don’t know.”

  Slowly, Heath drew his face nearer to mine and lowered his mouth to my lips. He kissed me tenderly. Brought his hands to my jaw and brushed my cheek with his knuckles. I shivered all the way to my toes and pressed my body to his as much as the bandages and machines and monitors would let me. It wasn’t easy to make out with someone who was hooked up to so many different things. The only way to kiss was with caution. The aggressive build that seemed to come so naturally when we touched was something I fought against each time our lips connected. As badly as I knew he wanted me, the last thing I wanted was to physically hurt him.

  While his body was fragile, I figured his eyes were fair game.

  I pushed up to prop on my elbow and pulled out of our kiss. With one hand, I tugged at the belt around my waist and loosened it. A nervous blush heated my skin, fluttered my belly.

  Heath stilled. His lips parted. “You got something under there for me?” His voice was throaty and raw.

  “Maybe.” My heart rammed inside my chest. I pinched my eyes shut, like that might miraculously calm my nerves, but they still floated around in my stomach like a swarm of butterflies. “Please don’t laugh.”

  Then, in one movement, I opened the front of my coat and slipped it from my shoulders, letting it fall to the bed. I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t face the disappointment I figured his expression would convey. I shook with anxiety.

  “You little thief.” Heath’s finger bopping against my nose made my unwilling eyes spring open. “I told you that was mine!”

  My gaze dropped to the pink lace negligée that clung to my trembling body. “Oh yeah? You wear it often?”

  “Only when I’m vacuuming. Housework is always more fun when you feel pretty.”

  I pushed Heath’s shoulder and felt horrible when he grimaced in pain. “I’m so sorry!” I gasped. “I forgot.”

  “It’s okay.” The words gritted through strained teeth. “But seriously, Mallory. You have to remember, I’m hooked up to all kinds of machines, and what you’re doing to my blood pressure and heart rate by wearing that thing is going to shoot it all off the charts. They’ll have the whole nursing staff in here in no time.”

  “Oh.” I fumbled for the coat.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Heath pulled the jacket from my hands and threw it to the foot of the hospital bed. “All I said was that we’d set off some alarms. I’m definitely not opposed to that.” Then, scooting as much as he could without falling off the bed completely, Heath lifted the thin sheet and motioned me closer. “Come in here with me, would ya?”

  I shuffled over and found the warmth of Heath’s body trapped under the covers.

  “Good thing they’re not monitoring you, too, because I know this gown is doing all kinds of things to your heart rate. Nothing sexier than a man in a skirt.”

  “Hey, don’t joke. Those Scottish men in kilts are actually pretty hot.”

  “True. True.” He nodded his head at the observation. “But the ones with two legs tend to be hotter than the pogo sticks.”

  My heart dropped. “Heath. Stop.”

  “Mallory. It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it.” His eyes tightened. “Sort of.”

  “This is going to be a huge transition for you, Heath. It’s okay to grieve over it a little.”

  “Oh, I’ve done my share of grieving these past couple of weeks, but it hasn’t been over my leg.” Leaning to me so his chin was pressed to the crown of my head, he kissed me softly there and said, “I’ve been grieving that fact that you have been here for me each and every day, Mallory. You’ve been by my side each moment.” His voice vibrated and he coughed to clear it. “I left you. I left you when you were in just as bad of shape. Probably worse. You woke up and I wasn’t there.”

  My chest constricted. I took a breath to speak, but Heath talked over me.

  “When I woke up and only Hattie was here, I figured it was my turn. My turn to suffer alone. It would only be right.” It stung to hear him speak those words, to think that payback on this sort of level even existed. I didn’t work that way. We didn’t work that way. “But then she’d said that you were the first person here. That you stayed with me until they pretty much forced you to go home and get some rest. Spend time with my little buddy.” I felt his warm tears drop onto my forehead but didn’t wipe them away. He sniffed and said, “I should’ve fought my parents harder. I should’ve made them let me stay. They, of all people, should’ve known how much you needed me during that time.”

  “We were kids.” It had become a mantra, a way to excuse our broken history.

  “I’m sick of saying that. I loved you then like I love you now, Mallory. And you deserved to feel loved by me. I left you.”

  If he’d been in better shape, I would’ve punched him in the gut. Knocked some sense into him. I supposed it would’ve been the same as beat
ing a dead horse, though, all the times we’d gone over this. “We need to stop bringing up the past. We’ve moved on from that. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

  “I never moved on. Maybe in my actions, but never in my heart.” His thumb played on my bare shoulder with gentle strokes while he spoke. “I can’t thank you enough for sticking with me, Mallory. I think it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better, and I’ll probably be a dick and take out my frustrations on the people who least deserve it, but I need you to know that you being by my side is what makes all of this bearable. I can deal with not having a leg. It sucks, it’s going to be a bitch trying to get around school those first few weeks, it’ll be painful and awful, but I cannot—I absolutely cannot—deal without you.”

  “You won’t have to.”

  “But I would understand if, at some point, I do.”

  My words weren’t sinking in, weren’t providing any confidence where he lacked it, so I took another approach. I moved in closer to Heath. Pushed my chest to his so the silk fabric of my nightie rippled against his skin. Trailed kisses along his strong jaw, dropping my lips to every cut and scrape that blemished him. His lips touched down on mine and we nipped back and forth, shifted forward and back on the thin mattress and squeaky bed frame.

  Every movement was slow motion, the way I hiked my leg over his hip and tugged gently at his blond hair. I took caution with every step. His body had been so badly cracked, torn, and abused. I needed my body to heal him, to piece him back together and love him to health.

  Had we not been in the hospital, I would have given Heath every part of me, right there. But I could wait on that. He had my heart, my life. Someday he would have all of me. I was his and forever would be.

  All he had to do was ask.

  Heath

  I’d been scared shitless for this day.

  “See you Monday, Mr. McBride!” one of my students—I hadn’t yet memorized his name, but he was in my third-period class—yelled down the hallway crowded with scurrying bodies that raced to the parking lot to get a head start on their weekends. Navigating the halls of Whitney High was not made any easier when crutches were involved. Three times this week I’d crashed to the ground when a crutch got wedged against a locker or landed wrong on the slick linoleum or tripped over the foot of a passing student. My messenger bag also swung at my side like a pendulum and further pushed me off balance. Each time, a throng of kids rushed to help me up.

  Today had been a manageable one pain-wise, and all I had left to do was successfully get down the fifteen daunting brick steps at the front of the building. School had been back in session for three weeks already. Each day I could feel my strength and coordination picking up. I’d developed a routine. Mallory had also learned to wrap my leg which helped with the edema that I’d experienced the first few days back home.

  Well, back at Mallory’s home. Moving in with her should’ve been the highlight of my year—in reality, my life—but these weren’t the circumstances under which I’d hoped to take that leap. It felt like it was more out of necessity than excitement. Sure, she was genuinely happy to have me there, and I would be lost without her help and care, but this was a step that I doubted we’d be taking had the accident never occurred.

  But it had, and these were our cards.

  I purposefully hung out in the lobby a few extra moments to converse with students that lingered after the bell in an effort to wait out the crowds. It was all flurried and frantic for about five minutes before the chaos settled. That was the best time to try to scale down the Mount Everest in front of me.

  “Need a hand, Heath?” Paul stopped short when he saw my struggle with the large door, how I switched both crunches under my left armpit and pushed against the handle with my hip. “Here, buddy, I got that.”

  “Thanks, man.” I smiled. Humility—even when forced—was a good and necessary thing for me to experience. “I appreciate it.”

  “No worries.” He held the door wide and waited as I repositioned my crutches to hobble forward. “How’re things going at the new place? Mallory taking good care of you?”

  “She is.” Even though I wanted to be the one taking care of her. “It’s not very romantic, wrapping your boyfriend’s stump and all, but she’s a trooper.”

  “I doubt she’s being a trooper, Heath. I’m sure she enjoys every moment she gets to lay hands on that sexy body of yours,” Paul jeered. I knew he was waiting for me to scale down the steps. He didn’t have to, and I certainly didn’t ask, but I appreciated how he slowed his pace and followed just a few steps behind me.

  “Oh, you know it.” Finally, with a huge release of breath, I made it to the sidewalk. Hattie grinned at me from her minivan that was pulled close to the curb, waiting to pick me up. She waved excitedly. “Have a good weekend, Paul.”

  “You too, Heath. Is today the big day?”

  My stomach flopped at his words. “Sure is.”

  He dropped a hand to my shoulder. “It’ll be great. Excited for you, buddy.”

  “How does that feel?”

  I pinched my lips together and fought the grimace that wanted to form. “A little tight. Uh, I don’t know. Maybe not. Is that normal?”

  The young blond woman kneeling on the ground in front of me, who had just told me her name was Heather, nodded. “That’s likely from the swelling. We’ll provide you with another shrinker sock that you can wear at night and that should cut down on it a little. But you’ve been wrapping it, yeah?” I nodded. She shifted the liner, turning it just slightly on my skin. “That any better?”

  “Lots, actually.” I ran my fingers over the joint where the prosthetic met my skin. “That feels pretty good.”

  She reached for a set of thin boards just off to the left on the gray tufted carpet. “I’m going to have you stand now, Heath. Use the arms of the chair, if necessary, to hold you up at first.”

  I hadn’t, in over a month and a half, stood on two feet. My stomach churned and my mouth went dry. Then, more easily than I had anticipated, I pushed up from the seat. Wobbled a little. Regained my balance, and held my breath, as though breathing would be that extra push to force me back down into the chair.

  “Relax, Heath. You’re doing great.” Heather scooted back and eyed my stance with scrutiny. “How do your hips feel? Out of alignment at all? Or pretty even?” Before I could answer, she brought a tool to my waist that had a level in the middle, and she strained her eyes as she studied the bubble of air that floated a little off center. Reaching for a white pen, she drew two dots on the prosthetic. “I’m going to have you sit so I can adjust that and we’ll try again. You’re doing just great, Heath.”

  I had to admit, I did feel great. I was on schedule with Dr. Callahan’s projections and my personal goals. There’d been a hiccup a while back when I’d developed an infection in the site of the amputation, but that was tackled quickly and mended without much setback. I couldn’t even count the hours I’d put in with physical therapy already, and all the strengthening exercises they had me doing. The uphill battle didn’t feel so uphill anymore.

  “Okay, let’s try this again.”

  For the second time, I rose to my feet, and this transition was much more natural than the first.

  “Good. Good.” She lifted the tool to my waist again. “This looks really great, Heath. Can you try to take a few steps forward?”

  I didn’t know why the panic flooded in. I didn’t figure the fitting for my new leg would only involve standing and sitting, but I hadn’t let myself mentally prepare for walking. For even setting one foot in front of the other. My fingers tensed. I clamped them into my palms.

  Heather stood and walked backward, away from me. “Just a couple steps forward. You can do it, Heath. This is a great fit on you. Trust that it’s going to support you.”

  With my head angled to the ceiling and with the utter of a silent prayer, I put my new left foot in front of my right and pressed down. I felt the pressure in my knee as the prosthetic held
my weight. Held my weight. I didn’t collapse to the floor. I didn’t fall flat on my face. I only took four small and hesitant steps before reaching out for Heather’s arms for safety, but I did it. I could do this.

  Heather guided me back into the chair where I released a few clarifying breaths. I rubbed at my jaw with my hands and then dropped my face into my palms. I tried so hard not to lose it in front of Mallory that I often found myself losing it in front of complete strangers instead.

  Poor strangers like Heather.

  “I’m sorry.” I took the Kleenex she fluttered at me and blew my nose loudly. “This is really embarrassing.”

  “This is not embarrassing, Heath. This is why I do my job. For overwhelming reactions of joy like this. Has anyone—other than your mom—ever witnessed you taking your very first steps? It’s a privilege to be here for it. Cry away. I’m choking up over here, too.”

  Heather’s words brought more tears to my eyes. “I’m just glad I didn’t fall on you.”

  “Wouldn’t’ve been the first time. But you will fall, Heath. That’s inevitable. Just be sure to always get up. That’s all it comes down to. Getting back up.”

  Mallory

  “He walked today!” My voice screamed excitedly into the receiver. That news had been trapped in my head all day long and I’d been bursting to tell someone. “He walked! How unreal is that?”

  “Crazy unreal,” Heath responded. “That’s awesome, babe. I can’t wait to see when I get home.”

  “I’m not sure he’ll do it again soon, but you never know. He’s all clumsy and awkward, but he’s so, so proud. It’s even cuter than crawling if you can believe that.”

  “I can’t believe that. Baby army crawl was my favorite.”

  The red bell peppers sizzled in the pan on the stove and I added the onions to the mix, moving them around with the spatula. Smoke curled in wispy coils and I flipped on the vent to suck them up. Fajitas were Heath’s favorite and I knew he’d had a trying week at school and deserved a good meal. Friday night fajitas had quickly become a little tradition for us.

 

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