by Jaclyn Hardy
“Because it’s better than sitting here feeling sorry for yourself,” Mom snapped. “You have so much to be thankful for, but you’re sulking like a child.”
Mom had never talked to him like that. Ever. Even when he’d been a teenager she’d always been nice.
“I’m sorry.” Stuart faked a yawn. “I think I need some sleep. You can stay if you’d like.”
“I’ll stay here. Your shoulder surgery is in a few hours and I need to sign some paperwork.” Mom stood and kissed his forehead. “You’re alive. Your friends and dad are alive. Be grateful.”
Stuart nodded but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to admit she was right. He picked up the catalog she’d brought him and flipped through it. Plans slowly came together in his mind and he reached for his phone to write down notes. He’d had the floor plan set in his head, but colors and what style of door he wanted were always far enough in the future that he hadn’t thought about it.
There were times while he wrote down options that he stopped to wonder what Heather would think of that option. By the time he was actually tired, he had the cupboards, faucets, and countertops picked out for his kitchen. The living room would be after he woke up. And for the first time in days, he went to sleep with a smile on his face. He finally had something to plan for, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
“You can do this, son. Slow, easy breaths.” Mom sat in a chair while Stuart had a physical therapist there to torture him.
“Easy for you to say.” He grinned to let her know he was joking, but it quickly turned to a grimace. His leg therapy was going well, but his shoulder hadn’t been healing as quickly as he’d wanted.
Mom swatted him with the catalog in her hand. “Have you decided on a color for the living room yet?”
“I’m thinking yellow, but I haven’t found the right shade yet.” He groaned as he lifted the weight again. “Can we take a break?”
The therapist nodded and picked up Stuart’s cup. “I’ll go refill your water.”
“How’s the shop coming?” Stuart grabbed a towel and dried his forehead.
“The town jumped in and it’s coming faster than we’d ever expected. We should be able to open back up at the end of the month.” Mom sighed. “It’s hit your dad harder than I thought it would though. He’s blaming himself for what happened.”
Stuart laid back against the chair. “This wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just happened.”
“We can say that all day, but he doesn’t listen. Stubborn man.” Mom shook her head. “Speaking of stubborn, your doctor told me that if you keep going like you have been, you can get released tomorrow.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard for days.” Stuart coughed, cringing at the dull ache in his ribs.
Mom stood. “I’d better get home. School will be out soon and I need to be home when the girls get there.”
“Well, hopefully this will be the last time you have to leave without me.” Stuart shifted in the chair. “Any letters for me?”
Mom pulled a pink envelope from her purse. “It came this morning.”
“What’s this?” He took it from her and fingered the delicate writing. Heather. He’d been expecting bills, junk, anything but this.
Mom kissed him on the forehead. “I suggest you wait until you’re back in your room alone. Love you, sweetie.”
Stuart waved, unable to speak. The therapist hadn’t come back yet, and there was no way Stuart wanted to wait for him. He tucked the letter into the pocket in his T-shirt and forced himself to stand. The wheelchair was only about ten feet away. He could do this.
He took step by agonizing step before he was finally able to drop into the chair. Wheeling himself into his room was a whole different problem. Maybe he should have asked his mom to help before she left. His shoulder still didn’t work well enough to use both arms, so he finally pushed one of the pedals to the side and used his good foot and good arm to get himself out into the hallway.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” The therapist caught up to him and grabbed onto the bars. “We don’t want to pull out any stitches.”
“I just decided I needed a nap. You weren’t back yet.” Stuart wiped his forehead with his good arm and relaxed while he was taken back to his room. Instead of waiting for help to get into bed, he stood and took the last couple of steps, ignoring the protests. “Can you close the door behind you?”
“Sure, I’ll be back in a few hours to do our next session.” The therapist set the water bottle on the table and left, shutting the privacy curtain and closing the door.
Stuart pulled the letter out of his pocket and stared at it. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to throw it or savor every word. She’d been gone for over a week now. No text, no email, no explanation. But she’d also saved his life.
He opened the letter before he could talk himself out of it.
Stuart,
You probably think I’m the biggest jerk ever for just taking off, but I have to explain myself. After I left the shop that day, I went home and slept until the next morning. My mom says she asked if I wanted to stop by, but I don’t remember that. At all.
Since then I’ve had several interviews and I’m neck-deep in school. I thought I was doing pretty well going into my residency, but I’m learning that I know almost nothing.
I wanted to thank you for a wonderful week. It was more than I could have ever asked for, and I didn’t want to let it go. I shared more with you in those few days than I have with anyone for, well, years.
I want to wish you luck, and I hope your recovery is going well. I’m not sure when I’ll get off of work next, but I’d like to see you. If that’s okay with you.
Thank you for everything,
Heather
Stuart stared at the letter, emotions warring with each other. She’d taken the time to write—actually hand-write—a letter, but there was nothing about how she actually felt. He set the letter aside and closed his eyes. He could still see her face, her smile, and felt the touch of her lips on his. Was it only one-sided? He’d been so sure it wasn’t.
He’d write back. Later. When he knew what to say.
School was going to be the death of Heather. She was sure of it. Between trying to keep up with interviews and getting her homework done, she barely had time to breathe.
Or think about Stuart.
Guilt plagued her whenever she had a moment to breathe, so she kept going. Work, school, interview, and homework. That’s all she allowed herself to do. It was mostly true that she slept through going to see Stuart on the way out of town. She was aware enough that she knew she couldn’t face him. If she had, she would have decided to stay to take care of him.
January had dragged on, and February was even worse. March was here now and the only thing anyone talked about when they weren’t studying was where they hoped to go for the residency. The Match would be happening in just a few days.
Heather’s last class of the day had seemed to last an eternity by the time the bell rang. She slammed her book shut and shoved it in her bag, anxious to get home. There were tests in three different classes that she needed to study for that night.
A light drizzle fell as she left the building. Perfect. The rain fit her mood, and rather than running to her car like everyone else did, she took in the peace that came with the storm. She was soaked through by the time she got back to her apartment, but she didn’t care. It was nothing a hot shower couldn’t handle.
Once she was done with that, she wrapped up in pajamas and a thick robe. Her roommates were still out, which meant that she could have some silence while she studied. She threw some ramen into the microwave, then sorted through the mail. She froze. An envelope with her name on it from an address in Idaho. He’d written back.
Heather picked up the letter, but she couldn’t decide if she should open it or not. What if he’d totally rejected her apology? She wasn’t sure she could handle it if he did. The letter had been a spur of the moment thing when she missed him so
much she couldn’t breathe.
The microwave beeped, making her jump. She dropped the envelope next to her books. Maybe after she studied for a while she could open it. It could be her reward or something. She took the ramen out and set it down at the table.
The letter sat next to her, mocking her with every page she turned. Every vocabulary word she memorized. Finally, she grabbed the letter and ripped it open.
Heather,
It was great to hear from you. When you disappeared after the accident, I figured you were gone for good.
I want to thank you for helping my family so quickly. I relive those last moments over and over again. When you tried to get my attention, how hurt I felt when I turned and walked inside like a jerk. And then that moment. It was deafening noise just before I was blown backward.
I’m sorry. I never should have pushed you away. I never should have ignored you. But I just couldn’t get in the way of something you seemed to love so much.
The healing has gone slowly. I’m now home, but the healing is still taking longer than I’d like. I have to tell you that the doctors were impressed with how you were able to get the leg back into position.
Best of luck with your schooling. You’ll be an amazing surgeon.
Stuart.
Heather couldn’t move. Her eyes scanned the page over and over. It was like hearing his voice coming out from the page. He never should have pushed her away? What was that supposed to mean? It had given her a spark of hope until he mentioned her schooling again.
She folded the letter and slipped it into her notebook, then went back to her test notes. Writing back could wait. Just until she went to bed that night. Then she could fill him in with what had been going on.
Sounds of laughter came from outside in the hallway, followed by loud music. Great. Someone had decided to have a party instead of studying for midterms. Heather grabbed her headphones and put them on, hoping to drown out the noise.
Just a month and a half left, and she could be done with school and move out of these college dorms. The thought made her smile as she picked up her first flash card.
It was here. Heather held the Match letter in her hand. She should have been at one of the parties on campus getting ready to rip it open, but instead she sat on her bed with a half-packed bag next to her. Three times she’d gone out the door. Three times she’d realized what she was doing and walked back in.
Finding out where she was going just didn’t seem the same doing it alone. Heather’s phone buzzed with a notification that she needed to leave now to get to the airport. If she was going to go. No if. She stood, grabbed, her bag and keys and forced herself out the door. Each time she wanted to turn back, she made herself keep walking. Even as she drove, she kept the envelope clutched in her hand.
The security line at the airport was long as usual. Heather nearly turned around and left several times before she reached the front. She handed over the ticket before she could change her mind again.
It was torture letting going of the letter so she could go through the metal detector. That was her future in that envelope. The flight was already boarding when she got to the right gate. It was better that way. She couldn’t change her mind.
She found her seat on the plane and sat down, forcing herself to relax. Just a few hours now and she could be at Stuart’s door.
“Ma’am, that letter needs to go in your luggage for take-off.” A stewardess smiled down at her.
“Uh, I’m just going to hold onto it. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it.” Heather held tightly to it.
The woman frowned, but then forced another smile. “I’m sorry, but you really need to put it away. You can take it back out when we’ve taken off.”
Heather sighed and put the letter in her backpack. It would be fine. After all, it wasn’t like the bag could go flying forward or backward because it was secure under the seat. Or, at least, she thought it was. Maybe it wasn’t.
She reached down to grab it, but the plane began to taxi down the runway. Fine. She could wait just a few minutes.
The lady sitting next to Heather leaned over. “That envelope must have something important in it for you to be so stressed.”
“Yes, it’s pretty important.” Heather tried to pay attention to the last-minute flight instructions, but she was too distracted.
“So . . . why don’t you open it?”
Heather sighed. “Because I don’t want to open it yet.” Heather wanted to cry when the plane finally took off. Two hours, and she could see Stuart again. If he’d even open the door for her.
Stuart sat down on his new couch in his new house and set his bad leg up on the coffee table. The colors he’d chosen were just right if he did say so himself. He couldn’t believe it had been a month since he’d finally moved in. The carpentry for the door frames and a few other minor details still weren’t done, but it was a lot easier to work on them when he was already here.
It would be a while before his yard was ready for animals or anything, but he was home. He kicked his boots off and sighed with relief. It had been a long day at the butcher shop, and he was ready to sit back and watch some basketball.
The knock at the door made him freeze. Mom and Dad hadn’t been planning to come as far as he knew, and his friends were off on dates or whatever. Stuart stood and went to answer the door.
He was sure the peephole was wrong. There was no way Heather was standing on his doorstep. She was off at college. Right? He opened the door to find her standing there. Her hair was pulled back, and she looked exhausted, but right then she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Hi.” Heather ran her fingers along an envelope. “Um, I hope you don’t mind that I’m here. But I didn’t . . . I didn’t feel right opening this without you.”
“Come in.” Stuart stepped aside so she could walk past. “How’d you know where to find me?”
“Aunt Cassie told me.” Heather still held tightly to the envelope. “This is a beautiful house.”
Stuart felt a burst of pride. She liked it. Just as he’d hoped she would. “Thank you. I spent a lot of time at physical therapy, so my mom sat with me and helped me choose colors and styles.”
“Well, you did an amazing job.” Heather hugged the letter to her.
“So, what brings you back here?” Stuart didn’t mean to sound rude, but she’d appeared out of nowhere after avoiding him.
Heather held up the letter. “It’s my Match day. And I couldn’t open it with strangers on campus and going home didn’t feel right either. I needed . . . well, I needed you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Stuart nodded. “I’d like that. Can I get you a drink or something?”
“No. Now that I’m here, I just want to open it if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” He gestured to a chair. “You can sit if you’d like.”
Heather sat and stared down at the letter. “Even now I don’t think I can open it. Here, you do it.”
Stuart reached out to take it, but then shook his head. “You’ve waited too long for this. You do it.”
“Okay.” Heather slid her finger under the seal and opened it, then pulled out the letter. She read with one eye open while the other was squeezed shut. Her eyes ran back and forth on the page.
“And?”
Heather gasped, and then burst into tears. Stuart was filled with dread. Maybe she hadn’t been Matched. Or maybe it was somewhere she didn’t want to go. He reached out and took her hand. The familiar zing of electricity was there, and he wanted to pull her into his arms.
“Is it bad?”
She shook her head and handed him the letter.
He hesitated before taking it. The words blurred as he scanned through, but he stopped at the location. St. Luke’s. He read through it again, hope rising in his chest.
“You’ll be here in Idaho?”
She nodded. “When things were going so well with us, I took a leap and threw a few local options onto my list of preferre
d schools. I wasn’t sure how the interviews had gone and never really heard anything after that.”
Stuart reached forward and took both of her hands in his. “You asked to come here? To be with me?”
“I did. But if you want me to say no—”
Her words were unspoken as Stuart pulled her in for a kiss. He’d missed her lips on his, the way she felt in his arms. And now that she was back, he didn’t want her to ever leave again.
She pulled away. “Does this mean you’re okay with what I did?”
“When I saw the locations you’d chosen, I was sick to my stomach.” Stuart shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a resident so close to here.”
Heather snuggled into his arms. “So you’re not mad?”
“Never.”
“I thought maybe I could come and visit you when I have my days off. I mean, I might not have many of those, but I’d like to at least try.”
Stuart laced his fingers through hers and kissed her hand. “We have a few months to figure that out, right? You have school to finish?”
“Yeah, I’ll come as soon as I graduate.”
“Perfect.” Stuart stood and went to the cupboard for wine glasses. “It’s time to celebrate.”
Heather took one of the glasses. “To finding a hospital nearby.”
Stuart raised his glass. Finally, after living here for the last month, his house finally felt complete. “To our future.”
One Year Later
Heather was sure she could sleep for a month. She’d gone several days with no sleep at the hospital, and it was finally her chance to get away. The trip to Stuart’s ranch was a little farther than she wanted to drive, but she had to see his face. It had been too long.
The framing of a barn sat near his house, and he already had a chicken pen and a few cows. Heather shook her head as she pulled in front. A lot had changed in a year, and she loved watching it come together.
