Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Well, we will rectify that when I come.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Give Weston my regards, and selfishly, I’ll be praying for a quick recovery.”
“Thanks, Mark. I really appreciate you looking out for me.”
“That’s what friends do.”
As I continued preparing dinner, I couldn't help but feel the weight of what Mark had said. I knew it came from a place of friendship. He knew about mine and Weston’s history, and the decision I’d made about the relationship. But there was a tension there, and it stuck with me the rest of the night and into the morning. After a great deal of tossing and turning, I came to the conclusion that I would stay true to my word and help Weston as long as he needed.
I figured that would be anywhere from a few weeks to a couple of months. I went to the hospital the following day with a newfound resolve, so I was a bit surprised when I came up on Preacher talking with Weston’s doctor just in time to hear him ask, “Any idea when he will be able to go home?”
“It’s hard to say. There are lots of factors to consider.”
“Like what?” Preacher sounded irritated as he added, “He’s been making improvements. He’s strong and healthy, so what’s the hold up?”
“There are other things to evaluate.”
“Such as?”
“He has to be able to function safely at home, which means his house will need to be wheelchair accessible—at least, for the time being, and he will need things like a shower stand and possibly bed railings.”
“Okay. We can do that.”
“He’s recovering well, but he’s still going to need someone there to help him get from his chair to the bed or to take a shower or make sure he has food. That could be a nurse or a friend. That’s up to you.”
Before I realized what I was doing, I stepped over to them both and announced, “I could do it.”
“What?”
“I could stay with him.” Preacher just stood there staring back at me, so I added, “I don’t know what all it would entail, but someone could show me, and I’m sure you’ll be close by if I needed you.”
“Yeah, I would be, but what about your job?”
“I’ve already been doing most of my work at Weston’s place, and when I need to go back, you or one of his brothers could cover for me.”
“So, you’re serious about this?”
“Yeah, I am, but there’s one thing you might want to consider.”
“Okay. What’s that?”
“Weston.”
Memphis
“No fucking way!”
“It’s your chance to go home.”
“Not like this. I’d rather stay here.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“The hell I don’t!” I snapped. “I’d rather have a bullet in my head than have her wipe my ass.”
“Oh, give me a break. You can wipe your own ass. You’ve been doing it from day one.” Dad shook his head. “You’re just being difficult.”
“It’s bad enough that she has to see me in that damn chair. I don’t want her taking care of me.”
“Memphis.”
“I’m serious, Dad. Get Nikki or Star to do it.” I hadn’t made a huge deal of it, but I was starting to get some real feeling back in my extremities. I was still struggling to get around, but every day, I was getting stronger. “For that matter, I can just take care of myself. I can get around well enough.”
"Not well enough to be completely on your own. You won't be ready for that for several weeks. You need someone there, full-time.”
“Okay, fine. I need help, but why’s it gotta be Antonia? Why can’t it be one of the guys or a nurse?”
“We could do that.” He cocked his brow. “If that’s what you really want.”
Damn.
My head was spinning.
I liked the idea of Toni sticking around and being there at the house for me, but I didn’t want her putting her life on hold for me—at least, not any more than she already had. "She’s got her own stuff going on. It’s not fair to ask her to....”
“She knew what she was offering,” Dad interrupted. “And she’s not doing it out of obligation. She's doing it because she cares about you. And if you care about her as much as I think you do, then you should let her do this. It could open a door for you two that you’ve both been too afraid to open.”
“Or close it forever.”
“Won’t know unless you try.”
“Why the hell are you so set on this?”
“Because I know it’s the right thing. I just need you to trust me on it.”
I remained silent. My conflicting emotions churned inside of me, making it difficult to speak. Sensing my struggle, Dad added, "Think about it this way: How would you feel if the shoe was on the other foot, and it was her who needed the help? Wouldn’t you do everything in your power to be there for her?"