“We. Are. Going. Out.” I enunciate each word as I scoop her up, her pounding on my back in protest.
“You’re not being fair! You’re holding me hostage knowing I can’t get down and escape from you!” I ignore her as I walk through the house and into the garage. “Goddamit, Nate! Put me down, I don’t want to go out there, it’s too… peopley!”
My body vibrates with laughter as I open up the passenger door of my SUV and place her on the seat, leaning back and seeing the scowl on her face. But there’s also something else there too I can’t quite place. “You don’t even know where I’m taking you.”
“You just said for a walk,” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. She slaps my hand away as I try to buckle her in. “I’m not a child.” She huffs, clicking her belt in, pushing her bottom lip out and acting the exact way Izzie would.
“Then stop pouting like one and give me one of your beautiful smiles.” Her lip twitches. “It’s just for an hour.” She looks out the windshield, chewing her bottom lip. “Lia?”
When her gaze meets mine, her shutters aren’t up and I can see the nerves flowing through her. “I’m going to be there.”
Rolling her eyes, she finally murmurs, “Fine.”
Shutting the door and walking around the other side of the car, I know she’s not happy with me, her “fine” meant she was tolerating this because she has to.
She’s silent on the way to the park, staring out the window until we reach the lot.
Normally this park is bustling with college kids but since everyone’s off for the Christmas break, it’s almost empty.
“Doesn’t look too ‘peopley’ to me,” I comment, climbing out and opening the trunk to set up her wheelchair.
I pull the lever and make sure it’s all steady before wheeling it over to the passenger side where Amelia is sitting with her gaze flitting around the lot. That is until she sees me. She crosses her arms over her chest and places a scowl on her face, but I’m not buying it.
I open the door and hand her her coat, trying not to smile at her scrunched-up nose. “You could at least seem like you want to be here.”
“Why would I do that?” she asks, raising a brow at me. “I made it clear I didn’t.”
I chuckle softly as she unclips her belt and puts her coat on. “We’re going to have a great time, I promise.”
Leaning into the car to lift her out, I hear her sigh before she grits out, “I hate this.”
I pull back to look at her. “You needed to get out of the house.”
“Not that,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck as I lift her out “This.” She waves at herself and then me. “It makes me feel like…” she trails off, her gaze bouncing around before settling back on me as she softly says, “I just want to be able to do it myself.”
I make a mental note to do some research later. I can’t imagine not being able to get out and about on my own never mind someone having to lift me in and out of the car all the time. “Is that why you didn’t want to come out?”
She bites her bottom lip as I place her in her wheelchair. “Partly…” She looks back up at me, shaking the thoughts from her head as she narrows her eyes playfully at me. “But you also disturbed my binge session, mister.”
Bracing my hands on either side of the wheelchair, I lean forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “You’ll get over it.”
She starts to push herself away from the car and I quickly grab a blanket from the back seats and run after her. “Wait up!”
She turns her head over her shoulder and grins. “Can’t keep up, huh?” She pushes her arms forward, going faster while still gazing around the park.
A grin spreads over my face as I up my pace, walking beside her and holding up the blanket. “Stop for a second so I can put this over your legs.”
“What?” She comes to a stop, her head reeling back as her eyes widen at what I’m holding. “You are not putting that on me.”
I step in front of her, rolling my eyes. “You’re going to get cold otherwise.”
“Don’t you dare,” she grinds out, wheeling herself backward. “I have a coat on, I’ll be fine.”
Matching her pace, I step forward again with the plaid blanket out in front of me. “You’re being ridiculous, just put on the blanket.”
“I mean it, Nate. I’m not an old man!” She holds her hand up. “Step. Away.”
Chuckling, I counter, “I know for a fact you’re not an old man,” with a wink. “But you’re also not moving your leg muscles so you’ll get cold. Stop being so stubborn.”
“I swear to God, if you put that blanket—” I lay the blanket over her lap, her hands batting me away. “No!”
“Just keep it there. I don’t want you getting sick a week before Christmas. I promise you don’t look like an old man.”
“Fine.” She tucks the blanket around her legs, her movements slow and jerky. “You’re totally ruining my street cred, but whatever.” The side of her mouth quirks up before moving into a grim line. “You know, my arms are suddenly so tired.” She flops them down on her lap dramatically, biting her bottom lip to keep her smile at bay.
“Is that so?” I walk behind her, grabbing the handles. “I guess I’ll have to push you like the old man you are then.”
“Just call me Earl from now on,” she comments, her voice serious before her laughter floats out of her, wrapping around us. It feels good to hear her laugh—I’ve missed the sound of it.
When she stops, we’re basked in silence apart from the sounds of nature, and I take in a lungful of cold, fresh air. “I love this time of year.”
“It always makes me want to get under my duvet and watch Netflix all day.” She turns her head, looking at me out of the corner of her eye knowingly.
“You can’t sit inside watching Netflix all day a week before Christmas. You need to be out doing holiday things like… shopping or baking or… crafts.” She snorts. “Okay, maybe not crafts but I do want some Christmassy goodness coming my way.”
“So go buy a tree and we can watch Home Alone on Netflix.” She shrugs. “Win-win.”
“Unless I have a Christmas cookie in my mouth, it’s not a win.”
“Okay, so I’ll make the cookies, you get the tree, and then we can watch a Christmas movie.” She holds the blanket up. “We can cover ourselves with this—” She cuts herself off. “Wait a minute.” Twirling her head around as far as she can go, she asks, “Is this the blanket?”
“The blanket?” My brow furrows.
“Yeah, you know: the one you used on our first date?”
I can’t believe she remembered. “I guess it is, yeah.”
I watch as her throat bobs on a swallow, her eyes glassing over before she clears her throat and snuggles deeper under the blanket. “I love this blanket.”
“Don’t want to say I told you so but…” I smirk and she turns back to face the front. “So… you want me to get a tree?”
My mind has been so busy I completely forgot it was Christmas next week until yesterday.
Her head moves up and down on a nod. “Yeah, a real one.” She lets out an audible breath. “We always had a real one when I was growing up. There’s nothing like the smell of a room with a real tree in it.”
I push us over to a bench and sit down beside her wheelchair I place at the end. “My mom always has one in every room of the house. It’s her favorite holiday.” She looks down at her hands, rolling the blanket between her fingers. “When was the last time you spoke to your parents?”
“Mom called a couple of days ago,” she says, lifting her head. “She said Dad’s really busy at work.” Her lips twist into a scowl. “But I know he was there because I heard him in the background.”
Wrapping my fingers around her hand and giving a comforting squeeze, I ask, “Why don’t you invite them for Christmas?”
Her gaze lands on a tree in front of us, following the path of a squirrel as it climbs it. “I don’t really feel like celebrating this year.” She
worries her bottom lip. “Is it okay if we decorate but not have the big meal and everything that goes with it?”
“I know you’re not in the mood after everything that’s happened, but Mom’s invited us over. We’ll have a great time.”
She’s shaking her head before I’ve even finished. “I can’t, Nate. Not like… this.”
“You’re still you.” She doesn’t say anything. “We had a quiet Thanksgiving just us two, no frills. I’m not letting you miss another holiday.”
“Then you go,” she huffs out. “I’m not leaving the house this Christmas.” Her eyes narrow. “I mean it, Nate. I’m not going to your parents.”
“Alright,” I reply with my hands held up in front of me. “You won’t leave the house this Christmas.” But she didn’t say anything about anybody coming to our house.
“Thank you.” She tries to pull her lips up into a smile, but I can tell it’s forced.
I look away from her to gaze around the park, my eyes locking onto a couple coming toward us. I stifle a laugh as I lean toward Amelia and whisper, “Hey, Earl. Who’s your friend?”
Her eyes widen at the old couple, a man in the wheelchair with the same style blanket as the one draped over her lap.
“That’s Albert,” she whispers. “He’s part of the ‘Blanket Crew.’”
The couple wheels past, the man nodding at Amelia as his gaze dips to her lap. “Nice blanket.”
I try to hold in my laughter to no avail as she stares in horror after them before her head snaps around and her gaze narrows on me. “Right!” She grabs the wheels, jerking forward. “I’ve had enough fresh air for one day.” She wheels forward again but the blanket gets stuck in the wheels. She fights it, moving backward and forward. “Stupid blanket!” Finally getting it unstuck from the wheel, she rides over it, cursing as I hold my stomach, laughter rumbling out of me uncontrollably.
“You’ll get cold,” I call after her to which she gives me the middle finger before carrying on down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
As long as she keeps her sense of humor, we can do this. We can get through anything.
My eyes flutter open, my hand reaching out and hitting the cold side of the bed Nate sleeps on. I frown, wondering where he is as I push myself up into a sitting position and pull my chair closer to the side of the bed.
Lifting myself up, I maneuver into my chair, pushing around the bed and out of the room.
The adjustments Nate made to the house are so well thought out even I didn’t realize how much you use on a day-to-day basis. Small things like being able to walk around the bed or getting something off the hanger in the closet. Things I can’t reach but Nate has made sure I now can.
Not only has he made my recovery easier, but he’s given me back the independence that was taken away from me as soon as I was pushed over the balcony. I’ll never be able to thank him enough for what he’s done for me.
Tilting my head when I get halfway down the hallway, I concentrate on the murmurs I can hear. It’s not until I come into the living room that I see the back of a head with dark-brown hair falling in soft waves over the back of the sofa.
Frowning, I move closer, the sound of my chair causing the person’s head to whip around.
“Maya?”
Her gaze falls to my chair before she looks back up at me. “Merry Christmas, Amelia.”
“What—” I clear my throat, my gaze batting over to the double doors that lead to the kitchen as voices get louder. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s Christmas, we’re always together as a family on Christmas.”
My nostrils flare, but when I open my mouth to reply to her, Nate walks into the living room with a wide grin on his face and a plate full of cookies in his hand.
His gaze connects with mine, his eyes widening slightly before he schools his features and walks over to me.
“Nate,” I grind out, knowing he knows what I’m saying with that one word.
He bends at the waist and kisses me on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Lia. I know this isn’t what you were expecting to wake up to, but you said you weren’t leaving the house. Not that people couldn’t come here.”
Gritting my teeth, I push my chair back, creating some distance between us. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Twirling around, I go back toward the bedroom, shaking my head and hating how he’s twisted my words. I told him I didn’t want to celebrate this year, that I didn’t want to leave the house, and he’s taken that and turned it on its head completely. Getting a tree and decorating the house was enough celebrating for me.
His footsteps sound behind me as I go into the bedroom, moving to the closet as I yank clothes out.
“You’re mad.” It’s not a question.
“Hell yeah, I’m mad!” I shout, not willing to look at him as I gather the things I need to change into, placing them on my lap. “You twisted what I said, Nate. I get you pushing me to leave the house instead of wallowing, but this is a step too far.”
Wheeling past him, I’m halted as he puts his hands on the handles, stopping me from entering the bathroom.
“I wanted us to have Christmas surrounded by everyone we love.” He pauses when the doorbell rings and my eyes widen.
“Who else is coming?” I ask. When he doesn’t answer, I huff out a breath. “There’s a reason I didn’t want to do this today.” I swallow against the lump forming in my throat, lowering my voice. “This isn’t Christmas.”
He kneels in front of me and tips my head so I’m looking at him. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be happy when you saw everyone.”
Shaking my head, I swipe at my face. “It’s not about the people. It’s what Christmas is.” Closing my eyes, I try not to think of the memories of every Christmas I can remember, but it’s no use. “It’s baking cookies and cooking Christmas dinner, setting the table and putting the angel on the top of the tree. It’s watching a movie in the afternoon, so stuffed you feel like you can’t move; your legs curled up underneath you.” I pause, opening my eyes back up. “It’s kneeling in front of the tree and handing everyone’s presents out… it’s… it’s being able to use my legs.”
His gaze bats between my eyes. “You don’t need your legs to do any of that stuff. If you want to help me and Mom cook, then come and do that. You want to bake? Go right ahead. You need to get out of your head and stop thinking your life is over.”
“It’s not the same,” I murmur. “It’s just… not the same.”
I can’t stop the tear from leaking out onto my cheek and he wipes it away before gathering me in his arms. “It won’t be the same, but it’s our kind of Christmas.” He pauses a beat. “When have I ever done anything the same as everyone else?”
I slowly nod, pulling away as he cups each side of my face. “Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.” Swallowing, I try to gather myself. “Let’s do our kind of Christmas.”
Standing up, he plants a soft kiss on my lips before stepping back. “That’s my girl. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready to come out.”
I watch him walk out, staring at the door for a beat before moving into the bathroom, hearing the doorbell go again and then Izzie’s excited voice as she shouts, “Merry Christmas!”
My heart beats wildly in my chest at the sound of her voice. I haven’t seen neither her nor Clay since the day I walked into Tris’s house and Phoebe was there.
Moving closer to the shower, I switch it on, wheeling my chair to the shower seat and heaving myself onto it after placing my clothes onto the small unit next to it.
I make quick work of the shower, drying myself off and getting dressed. What used to take me ten minutes now takes more like thirty because of all the extra things I have to do.
Finally wheeling myself over to the vanity Nate has had lowered, I dry my hair before looking in the mirror.
My face has filled back out since coming home from the hospital, and the lost look that was reflected in my eyes is now gone.
&n
bsp; Knocking on the door has my head whipping around, and Harmony shouts, “Hey, Amelia! Nate said you were in here, I was wondering if you could show me how to make those cookies the kids like.” Her soft tinkle of laughter sounds through the door and I move toward it, opening it and causing her to stumble. “I can’t ever seem to get them right,” she says, a genuine smile on her face.
“I’d love to show you,” I answer, smiling wide and wheeling beside her back into the main room.
“Amelia!”
My eyes search for the voice, and when I see Izzie running at me, I grin. Her red dress sparkles off the lights that are strung around the living room, a headband with a reindeer head attached to it sitting on her head. My eyes open wide when she comes to a stop a foot away from me, hesitation in her eyes.
“Hey,” I whisper, curling my fingers at her. “Come here.”
Her blue-eyed gaze meets mine before she turns to look at someone. Turning my gaze toward where she’s looking, I spot Tris holding—a baby? “Daddy said I need to be careful,” she whispers, turning back toward me.
I narrow my eyes at Tris before leaning forward. “You better get inside these arms before I have to tickle you,” I warn.
She giggles, the sound comforting as she steps forward. I wrap my arms around her, lifting her up and placing her on my lap.
“You shouldn’t be doing that, A—”
“Tristan,” I warn, my voice low. I place a kiss on top of Izzie’s head before whispering, “Merry Christmas.”
My eyes scan the room, taking in the Christmas tree sitting in the corner, decorations covering every part of it with an angel on top. Presents are bursting at the seams underneath it and even though it’s not what a normal Christmas looks like, Nate’s right—it’s our kind of Christmas.
“Can we go for a ride?” Izzie asks, wrapping her arm around my shoulders, a bright smile on her face.
“We sure can! Hold on tight!” Placing my hands on the wheels, I push us toward the kitchen, rolling past Tris and stopping briefly.
He raises a brow in question and I tilt my head to the bundle he’s holding. “This must be Frankie.”
Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 2) Page 38
