years. And she couldn’t help but see the dark humor in her current situation. One at home who wouldn’t talk and now another who couldn’t.
There’d been times the last four weeks when she’d just wanted to curl up in bed and stay there. Let someone else take charge. Although she’d been grateful and relieved to have Kai come home, she knew her daughter well enough to realize that her presence was temporary. In fact, she was waiting for Kai to announce that she’d soon be returning to New York. As Harry used to say of his daughter, “Dust doesn’t get a chance to settle on her.”
Now that’s enough self-pity, Margaret Westfield. There’s an eight-year-old boy—an orphan—counting on you. Even if he doesn’t show it.
There was a light tap on the opened door. “Your daughter’s parked outside and wants to know if you’d like her to come in and help with Mr. Westfield or if you can manage.”
Margaret smiled at the young nurse’s aide. Don’t kill the messenger, she reminded herself. How typical of Kai not to realize a bit of help would be appreciated without having to ask. “I can manage if you’d be able to wheel Harry out for me.”
“Of course.” The aide unlocked the wheelchair and pushed it out of the room. Margaret followed, carrying Harry’s duffel and her own bag, and rolling the fold-up walker that Harry would be using at home. She’d been boarding at Janet’s house since Kai came back to look after Thomas. Thank goodness for old friends. That gift had hit home for her and Harry after David’s death last year. Kai had been in some exotic country or other and hadn’t even received word of the accident until days later. When she did make it back for the funeral, she’d made it obvious her stay was going to be as brief as possible.
Margaret caught up to the aide and Harry at the elevator just as the door opened, revealing Kai and Thomas.
“I found a parking space after all.” Kai’s anxious expression flicked back and forth from Margaret to Harry.
“Just in time,” Margaret said. Wanting to make up for the slight sarcasm in her voice, she focused on Thomas, who hung back behind Kai. “Look who’s here, Harry.”
Harry managed a lopsided smile and extended his good hand. Thomas hesitated and then moved into that outstretched arm to hug his grandfather. Margaret teared up and saw that Kai, too, was close to tears.
“This is a lovely surprise,” she said. “Even if you’re missing a day of school, Thomas.” Something flashed in her daughter’s face that made Margaret add, “Thank you for that, Kai.”
The elevator ride was silent except for the occasional snuffling from Harry, his right hand clutching Thomas’s. This is another side of the new Harry I have to live with, Margaret thought. An emotional one, with a sensitivity he’d never shown in their forty-three-year marriage. The doctor had explained these changes were to be expected after a stroke. They might persist or disappear as his health returned. Right now, she’d take the old Harry no matter how irritating and insensitive he used to be.
Getting Harry into the car wasn’t as difficult as Margaret had feared, though it took both Kai and the aide to help him to his feet and slide him into the passenger seat. The physiotherapist had advised Margaret to get him walking every day. He’d need a wheelchair for excursions to the mall—fat chance of that, thought Margaret, who couldn’t get Harry to a mall when he’d had the use of two legs—but the walker would suffice for indoors. Anyway, Margaret knew the drill. Walk, talk and use the brain as much as possible.
She scarcely heard Kai chattering about the latest at the farm or what groceries she’d stocked up on for their arrival home. Instead, her mind was busily making plans for the days and weeks ahead. The physiotherapist and the doctor had recommended an innovative program for stroke patients—one that could be found not in Lima, but in Columbus—and Margaret was determined to take Harry there. Her cousin, Evelyn, might be able to put her up. The only problem was Thomas and who would look after him. Bringing him along would be too disruptive—for all of them.
When they turned onto the gravel road that led to the farm, Margaret noticed Harry look out the window. Neighbors’ fields around them were ready for planting. She guessed that was on her husband’s mind as he checked out both sides of the road. He made a low humming sound. During his stay at the rehab hospital, he’d be asking himself, “Who’s going to plant the soybeans?” Margaret forced her thoughts elsewhere. It was time to look ahead, she told herself.
Just before they rounded the curve that took them to their driveway, Margaret spotted a red tractor plowing the field next to theirs. Bryant Lewis didn’t waste any time. He and Harry used to try to see who’d get the first field done, then the first row planted and so on. It was a silly competition that had stopped the year Harry refused to sign a contract with the big company that wanted everyone to use their patented seed. Then the year Bryant told Harry he was looking into taking a wind turbine had pretty much ended the neighborly chats over the fence. And when David was killed...well, they hadn’t had any communication with their longtime neighbor since then.
Harry’s humming grew louder as they drove past Bryant’s field. Margaret saw Kai glance anxiously at her father. She’d grown up with that peculiar habit of his and could read the signs as well as anyone. The Buick pulled up to the garage.
“Thomas, you take Grandpa’s suitcase up to the house while Grandma and I help him get out of the car,” Kai instructed.
Thomas climbed out, taking the suitcase that was propped between him and Margaret. Then Kai opened the trunk and pulled out the walker. “I think this’ll do to get Dad into the house, don’t you, Mom?”
For a moment Margaret was speechless herself. This was a side of Kai—being in charge—she’d only seen the one time she’d visited her in New York. Never in the context of her childhood home. Harry had always assumed that role, even when David was working the farm with him. But then, David had always been quick to please, unlike Kai, who’d taken more pleasure from rebellion.
Tempted though she was to assert her authority, Margaret stopped herself. The past four weeks of going to the hospital daily, working with Harry and his physiotherapist, handling the paperwork and bills arising from his health care and making tentative plans for the near future had been draining. Right now, she was all too happy to let Kai take the lead.
By the time the two of them had helped Harry up to the kitchen door, Thomas had gone back to collect Margaret’s suitcase and was waiting patiently on the porch, an expression of expectation on his face. Margaret half noticed the exchange between Kai and Thomas but was busy helping Harry lift the front wheels of his walker over the stoop. She didn’t see Thomas running toward the garage, but the sound she heard seconds later froze her to the spot.
Barking. She turned around to spot a brownish-yellow dog leaping up at Thomas and quickly looked at Kai.
“I’ll explain when we get inside,” was all Kai said before Margaret could get a word out.
Margaret would have insisted on an immediate explanation were it not for Harry, who’d halted his progress into the kitchen to turn around, as well. His face was ashen and a deep but loud humming came from his open mouth.
* * *
“I THINK THAT’S enough for today.”
Luca took the towel-wrapped cold pack from his physiotherapist, Paul, and used it to wipe his sweaty brow before placing it on his left knee. He closed his eyes, savoring the coolness that seeped into the inflammation around his knee prosthetic. Today’s workout had been rigorous as Paul took him into the final stage of his therapy. He tried to speak but could only get out an incomprehensible grunt, which Paul recognized all too well.
He patted Luca’s shoulder. “Enjoy. You did great. See you on Thursday.”
After Paul headed off for his next patient, Luca waited the requisite fifteen minutes before sitting up, took a few deep breaths to ease the dizziness and reached for the sweatshirt draped on the chair next to the physio gurney. Five minutes later he was walking, assisted by his cane, out the front door of the rehabilitation