by Dori Lavelle
“That’s ridiculous. Of course, you are. You are capable of offering a woman so much. You only need to want it.”
“And what exactly can I offer? A few kisses?” I chuckle sarcastically. “Things no longer work the same way they used to.”
“There are so many different medical treatments you can do,” Doc say. “You should refuse to stop resisting treatments. Try everything. You never know. Which reminds me, I have a few options that came in from a surgeon friend of mine in South Africa. One of them sounds promising, something called epidural stimulation. Think about it. If you’re interested in giving something else another try, do let me know. The way I see it, you have nothing to lose.”
“My dignity,” I shoot back. “I don’t think I can go through another disappointment.”
“What if you refuse to try something that might actually work? Do you want to live your life wondering ‘what if’? As your friend, I’m urging you to fight. Don’t give up on your life.”
“How can I not when life has given up on me?” He has no idea how hard it is. No one has any idea how crushing it is to put all your hopes into a treatment, only to be disappointed. I can’t do it. I might as well start getting used to the fact that I was doomed to be in this freaking wheelchair until my last breath. I also have to get used to living my life without a woman. That kiss with Alice might have felt good, but it was a mistake, a dangerous one. Playing with fire is not in my plans.
“Remember, I’m here to help you through it all.”
“Thanks, Doc. But I’m not your only patient. Feel free to go back to Boston. I’ll be flying there in a few days anyway.”
“Are you sure about that? I can stay as long as you like.”
“You’re a phone call away. And it’s time I stand on my own two feet.”
“You won’t try to—”
“Don’t worry. That’s not in my plans.”
Left alone, I could try to kill myself again. I think about it all the time. But the fear of failing yet again stops me each time the thought crosses my mind. There’s a fear that I would survive with a worse injury than I already have. The idea of possibly ending up brain damaged, trapped inside a body that no longer functions, is the worst fear of all. I'm pretty sure my brothers would delay pulling the plug.
14
Lance
I wake up from a disturbed sleep with Alice Dupuis still on my mind. Thoughts and dreams of her that kept me up all night. I pull myself up in bed and shake my head, as though that would be enough to erase images of her. Of course, it’s not. I guess there’s no point in trying to banish her from my mind as it clearly doesn’t work.
With thoughts of her following me, I take a quick shower and head downstairs for breakfast.
Just a few days ago, I had most of my meals in the same room I slept, but for some reason, staying inside a room the whole day doesn’t seem to appeal to me anymore, at least not today. Despite it being bigger than many people’s apartments, my room now brings on a claustrophobic sensation.
As soon as I exit the elevator downstairs, I hear female voices, which get louder as I wheel myself through the hallway leading to the kitchen. My breath catches in my lungs, and I come to a screeching halt a few inches from the kitchen door.
She’s here again. How am I ever supposed to banish her from my mind when she keeps showing up unexpectedly? Had she forgotten something else?
I consider heading back upstairs and calling for Valentina to bring my food to my room, but yesterday, Alice had seen a weak part of me. If I don’t show up in the kitchen, she’ll most certainly think it has something to do with her. I’d seem even weaker in her eyes.
I plant my palms against the kitchen door and swing it open. The room is flooded with bright morning sunlight, thanks to all the windows, but the thing that blinds me the most is Alice’s smile when she turns to look at me. The world stops for a second as our eyes meet, and I find myself smiling back, surprised that my smile doesn’t stop at my lips, but creates a warmth that touches a deep part of me.
“Good morning, Lance,” Valentina says, turning from whisking eggs.
I clear my throat and nod at her. “Good morning, Valentina.” My eyes drift back to Alice. “Morning, Alice. I didn’t expect to see you today.” Something in my tone has changed. The hard edges have melted away.
As much as I’m embarrassed about what happened yesterday and wish she weren’t here to remind me, a part of me is glad to see her.
She’s wearing a white dress with flowers and butterflies on the hem. Her wild hair is pulled back in a ponytail that allows her best facial features to stand out. Her blue eyes are huge and bright, her glossed lips—the lips I kissed only hours ago—round and plump. She rises from her chair, and gives me a kiss on the cheek, igniting my skin.
“I didn’t expect to see myself here, either.” Without my permission, she pushes my wheelchair to the table, and takes the chair closest to me.
“I’m starting to think there’s something about this house that keeps calling me back.”
“I wonder what that is.” I reach for the orange juice in want of something to do.
Seconds pass where neither of us says a word. In the silence, Valentina’s gaze moves between me and Alice. She must be wondering what’s going on between us, and I can’t answer that question because I don’t have answers.
All I know is that something has changed between last night and this morning. As unexpected and dangerous as that kiss we shared was, it has done something to me, something I can’t grasp, something both exciting and terrifying. Mostly terrifying.
“It could be someone.” She takes the glass of orange juice I hand her and lifts it to her lips, watches me over the rim of her glass.
I have no idea how to feel about what she said—what to do or say. Should I encourage it or kill it? Being silent is not an answer, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“I guess it’s better for you to join us for breakfast than be all alone in Cabo.”
“But I blew it again, didn’t I? I should’ve asked for permission to come over.”
I wave a dismissive hand. “Forget about it. I’m used to it.”
She gives me a sheepish smile. “Thanks. To make up for it, I made pancakes.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You made breakfast?”
“Just pancakes.” She gets to her feet again and heads to the stove. “Valentina didn’t want me to, but I insisted.”
Alice serves both of us pancakes with an ease that makes it look as though she belongs in this house. Tongue-tied, I gaze at the golden pancakes in front of me, the sweet smell drifting into my nostrils, causing my mouth to water.
The man I was yesterday morning would’ve been offended at having his personal space invaded yet again. The man I am today feels less lonely with her in the room. In a way I can’t explain, this house feels more like a home with her in it.
“Thanks. They look great,” I say, digging in.
“I’m not much of a cook, but pancakes are my specialty.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch as Valentina leaves the kitchen.
I chew the sweet, fluffy goodness for a few seconds. “They’re fantastic.” I haven’t used that word in months, if not years. Come to think of it, many positive words haven’t touched my tongue for years.
She puts down her fork and folds her arms over the table, leaning forward. “The truth is, I came to check up on you. I wanted to make sure you’re fine after—”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” My hand pauses with the pancake half way to my mouth. “Thanks for your help.”
It’s humiliating to know that Alice saw me when I was most helpless. I could choose to hide behind my usual anger, but I think it’s best I show kindness. When it’s all said and done, if it weren’t for her, I’d probably be lying in a morgue right now. At this moment, death no longer seems appealing.
“No need to thank me. I’m just glad I was there on time.”
“How long are yo
u staying in Cabo?” I change the subject.
She shrugs. “It all depends.”
“On?”
“On whether Cabo wants me around, I guess.” She continues to eat her food without looking at me.
“I can’t see why Cabo wouldn’t want you around.” I’m silent for a long time until my mind forces me yet again to say something I might regret. “Alice, why don’t you move back in? You don’t know anyone around here. You shouldn’t be alone in some hotel.”
“No. I wouldn’t want to get in your way. You need your space.”
“The truth is, I’m starting to think I might not like my own company as much as I thought I did.”
“What changed?”
“No idea.” I reach for my orange juice and empty the glass. “Anyway, you’re most welcome to stay here for the rest of your holiday.”
“Lance, I really appreciate that.” Her eyes dance in my direction. “If you’re really sure, I’d love to move back in. I won’t stay long, I promise. One week at the most.”
“Why not stay longer? What’s calling you back home?”
“Work.”
“Your wedding business?”
“That’s right. But so far, the holiday has been something I needed. I needed a break from watching other people being happy.”
“Are you saying you’re not happy?”
For the first time since meeting Alice, I’m curious about her, what fills her with joy and what makes her ache.
Her shoulders rise and fall as she sighs. “I’m not unhappy. Things could be better, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you haven’t found what you’re looking for.”
She responds with only a smile, which I take to mean she wants to end this part of our conversation.
“Juan will take you back to your hotel to pack your bags.” I swipe a napkin across my lips. “You have all the space you need here to relax. Believe me, I’m good at staying out of the way.”
“That’s not necessary. I actually enjoy your company. My offer to be friends still stands.”
“You really think it’s possible for us to be friends? Especially after what happened between me and Audrey?” That name still feels like a dagger inside my chest.
“My sister is no longer here.” A shadow crosses her face. “If we are going to stay in the same house, it might be best for us to not talk about the painful times, don’t you think?”
“I totally agree.” I lean back and wait for her to finish her last pancake. “When you visited me at Crystal Lake, I asked you if you also think I’m afraid of living.”
“I’m sorry about my response.” The light in her eyes dims. “I shouldn’t have said—”
“No need to apologize. When I asked the question, I wanted the truth. That’s what you gave me.” I lift my chin. “I want to make you a suggestion.”
“A suggestion?”
“Yes. Feel free to say no.”
“Okay,” she says, twirling an escaped lock of her hair around a finger.
“I’d like you to give me a chance to prove to you that I’m not afraid of living. Your sister was wrong, and so were you.”
“How do you intend on doing that?”
“The next three days, I’ll do things I wouldn’t normally do. Nothing crazy. I have one condition, though. I would like you to join me.”
“I—”
“Of course, I’d understand if you’d prefer not to follow me around while I make a fool of myself. All you have to say is no.”
“No way. Guess what, I also don’t like my own company much. And it would be so much more fun to watch you making a fool of yourself.”
I push my chair away from the table. “In that case, we’ll get started tomorrow. I’m up for the challenge.”
15
Lance
Sweat is pouring down my temples. It’s after midnight and I’m filled with too much panic to fall asleep. What was I thinking to make such a stupid suggestion to Alice yesterday morning? When I saw her later in the day, she was so excited, telling me we will have so much fun. Fun? I haven’t done anything fun in years. Where do I even start?
I grab a pillow and press it to my face, groaning deep within my throat.
I’m pissed at myself for making a promise I might not be able to keep.
Cursing under my breath, I toss the pillow aside and grab my laptop that’s still glowing in the dark on the bed beside me. I’d spent hours surfing the net, looking for fun activities I could do with Alice. I hadn’t had the courage to search for activities that people with spinal cord injuries might also be able to participate in. I’m still finding it hard to accept I’m a statistic. But that’s what I am.
Bracing myself, my fingers fly across the keyboard as I type in “fun activities for paraplegics.” Several links show up, which is a surprise. Bowling, movies, concerts, golfing, swimming, and many more activities like those enjoyed by people with full use of their legs.
Still, I’m not interested in doing any of those things. Yesterday, my room had felt claustrophobic, but it suddenly feels safe again. I want to hide in here, to spend hours staring at my legs or out the window, cursing my life and dreaming about the things I lost.
But I made a promise, and if nothing else, I’m a man of my word. I flick on the table lamp and reach for my phone. I need someone to help me decide what to do. The options are way too many, too scary.
Until a couple of weeks ago, my brother, Derrick, was an adrenaline junkie. He threw himself from planes, surfed on sand dunes, and even participated in the annual bull running festival in Pamplona, Spain. Even though I never approved of his lifestyle, if anyone would know about having fun, it’s him.
“Hey, stranger. It must be my lucky day.” The humor in his tone tells me he’s pleased I called. It makes me feel like a jerk for screening their calls.
My fingertips smooth tension from my forehead. “Look, man, I’m sorry we haven’t talked in a while.”
“You don’t have to explain. We were getting on your last nerve. Just tell me you’re okay. And if you need me to come down, I’d take the next plane.”
“You have no need to worry about me. I’m calling because I need your advice about something.”
“My advice?” He chuckles. “That’s a first.”
“Well, it’s a desperate situation.” I blow out a stream of air. “I may have done something stupid.”
“That’s a first too.” He chuckles again, but there’s an edge to his voice now.
“I didn’t swallow a handful of pills again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Who said I’m worried?”
“You’re my brother. I happen to know you.”
“You’re right. For a second there I was worried, but I trust you.” He pauses. “So, what can I help you with?”
“Yesterday, I made a promise to this girl ... woman.”
“A woman?” More laughter. “You want to ask me advice about women?”
“Not that kind of advice.” I press my fists into my forehead, shut my eyes. “I’m sure Bryant has already passed on the news about our houseguest here.”
“Yep, bro. He did. That shouldn’t surprise you since you wouldn’t take our calls. He managed to get through to you because he’s more stubborn than all of us combined.”
“Did he mention who the guest is?”
“Yes, he said it’s Audrey Dupuis’s sister. That must have been a shocker.”
“You can say that again.”
“He also told us how gorgeous she is.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.” I change the direction of the conversation. “Yesterday, I kind of told Alice that in three days, I’ll prove to her that I’m not afraid of living.”
“Did she say you are?”
“Sort of. And you all think it.” He doesn’t respond, so I continue. “I promised to go out and do things I wouldn’t normally do.”
“Wow. Are you sure you’re my brother? You actually want
to leave your man cave?”
“I’m thinking I made a mistake taking this challenge. I’m calling because I want you to either convince me to pull out of the challenge or give me ideas of things I could do.”
“I say go for it. LaClaires keep their promises.”
“I’d like to do that, but I can’t freaking decide what to do.”
“Would you like an activity that I would do or one Neal would be part of?”
“A mixture would be nice.”
Our brother, Neal, is the safest one of all of us. He became averse to taking risks when his wife and child were killed. I can’t blame the guy. We all deal with grief in different ways.
“If you really want to get the feeling of living, I’d suggest a hot air balloon ride.”
“You do know how I ended up in the chair, right?” I grip the sheets next to me.
“I’m well aware. And I think you’ve been scared of heights for far too long. It might be time to bite that fear in the ass.”
“Floating in air is not my idea of fun.”
“But you fly on planes. It’s pretty much the same thing. Look, I know a hot air balloon company over there that has some of the most experienced pilots. You’ll be safe. Of course, I can’t force you to do it. I can give you other options. But trust me, it might be what you need to find your freedom.”
“You sure we won’t end up dead? I wouldn’t want to get the woman killed, for God’s sake.”
“Quite the opposite. At the end of a hot air balloon, you’ll both end up feeling more alive than dead.”
“You know what, I need to think about it.”
“You do that. And if you decide it’s not something you’d like to do, there’s more where that came from.”
“Suddenly, I don’t know whether you’re the right person to ask.” A smile sweeps across my face. “You might tell me to throw myself from a plane or something ridiculous like that.”
“Hey, you called me because I’m the right man for the job. Before you decide, do something for me.”
“Oh, boy. What now?”
