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“Okay, why don’t you go wash up and get your shoes on, and I’ll fix us some sandwiches.”
Harper hopped off the kitchen chair like she was spring-loaded and bolted toward the stairs.
“Remember, ballerina,” I reminded her, using the term I’d coined to keep her from stomping up the steps. Harper froze in place and then lifted up onto the balls of her feet as she tiptoed up the steps.
After straightening up the table, I washed my hands and threw together some PB&Js, then cut up a few apples into slices. As I worked, I couldn’t help but think about the conversation Kane and I had the day I’d arrived. I was glad we’d cleared the air, but I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that I’d been right. Kane would never have slept with me if he knew that I was staying in town.
Even though I knew that was the case, my mind played tricks on me whenever we were in the same room. Every time our eyes met or there were any accidental brushes of our bodies, I would find myself momentarily convinced that the sexual tension between us was palpable. The truth, I feared, was that the palpability was one-sided. I felt it and was projecting those feelings onto him.
I was just grabbing some juice boxes and a bag of pretzels to add to the tote bag when Harper returned to the kitchen wearing two different-colored tennis shoes, a feather boa, and a mermaid tail skirt over her jean shorts.
She looked adorable. She reminded me of the lead character in one of my favorite shows growing up, Punky Brewster. Miss Dottie had the full collection of DVDs because she had a crush on George Gaynes, who played Punky’s foster father Henry Warnimont, from his days on General Hospital.
“Can you put Bandit’s leash on, and I’ll go see if your grandad wants to come?”
“Okay!” Harper hopped into mermaid mode as she called out, “Bandit!”
“Inside voice,” I whisper-yelled as I headed down the hallway to Otto’s room.
When I reached his door, I lifted my fisted hand and quietly knocked.
“Come in!” he bellowed out, causing me to flinch.
I gently turned the doorknob, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. Otto was reading a book in the recliner beside the window. The television beside him was blasting Sports Center.
“Harper and I are going to head down to the park for a picnic. Did you want to come?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine right here.”
“Some fresh air might be nice,” I suggested.
“No, you two go ahead.”
“I already made you a sandwich, and I’d really like the company.”
Was I laying it on a little thick? Sure. But getting out of the house would be good for Otto. I knew he was frustrated about his limitations, and staying inside only exacerbated his irritation. Not to mention, if he agreed, I could turn off his television and give Kane some peace and quiet.
“Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”
Otto began to push out of the chair.
“Hold on,” I instructed him as I turned and grabbed his wheelchair from the hallway.
“I don’t need that thing,” he protested.
“I know, but it’s doctor’s orders.”
Otto waved his hand dismissively. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Okay, but would you mind if we took it so you could carry all the bags on your lap?” I asked. “They’re heavy.”
I hoped that making the use of the chair about me and not him would give him an out so he could accept the ride without feeling like he ‘needed’ it. It worked.
“Oh, fine,” he agreed gruffly, then mumbled about his time in the war, injuries he’d suffered and never complained about, and the fact that Dr. Edwards was young enough to be his grandson as I assisted him into the chair.
After turning off his television, I grabbed the tote filled with our lunches and a throw blanket and handed them to Otto, then we all headed out.
The walk to the park took about five minutes and was mainly filled with Otto explaining why he didn’t need the wheelchair. Harper skipped most of the way, with Bandit trailing beside her. The only time the duo stopped was when Harper spotted a ladybug on a flower. She asked if I would take a picture of her with it and send it to her mom, which I did.
