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I open my mouth to protest, and she waves it away. “Rachel, the problem in this family is that no one gave me credit. Instead of changing to make me happy, do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had told me what I was missing?”
And I snap my mouth shut. Part of me thinks I could have screamed until I was blue in the face, but there’s another part that wonders what would have happened if I had truly tried.
“So what’s going on here?” Mom leans over the engine like it might bite her and I realize that she’s trying.
“I was teaching West how to change his oil filter. ”
“Is it hard?”
“I could teach you. ”
Her mouth contorts. “How about you explain and I’ll listen. ”
It’s a start. “Deal. ”
Chapter 78
Isaiah
THE FRONT DOOR OPENS, AND I come face-to-face with Rachel’s father. Strands of gray highlight the area near his ears. He looks older than that night at the dragway, but in truth, I probably look older, too. Sleeping in hospital waiting room chairs does that to a person. He and I got to know each other real well during those periods that Rachel had surgery or slept.
Her father refused to leave her side when he wasn’t at work. The same was said for me when I wasn’t at work or at school. Turns out we have the same business hours.
“Come on in, Isaiah. ”
I step into the massive front hall and, like always, I’m still amazed that people live like this. “How’s she doing?”
“Nervous,” he says, and from the way he rubs his head I can tell he is, too. Rachel relearns how to walk today.
Mr. Young’s eyes flicker to the spot a few centimeters below the tiger tattooed on my biceps. I carry a burn mark from when I saved him and his daughter three months before. If it weren’t for the fact that the dragway required me to carry a fire extinguisher during a race, Rachel may have died. And me along with her—because I never would have left that car without her.
“I’ve discussed what you proposed with Rachel’s mother, and we both agree it would be good for Rachel to get out. But we’re going to start slow. An hour and a half. ”
An hour and a half—alone—with Rachel. I feel like a man stepping out into daylight after years of incarceration. “I swear I won’t be a minute late. ”
Her father wears a knowing smile. “No, you won’t be, or it’ll be another few months before you step out of this house with her again. ” Mr. Young accepts me with the condition that I follow their rules. For Rachel, I’d shovel coal into the furnace in hell.
“Isaiah,” her mom calls from the living room. “She won’t start without you. ”
Her mother turned their massive once-formal living room into their personal rehab clinic. My heart stutters when I see Rachel perched in her wheelchair. Her golden hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she wears a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Gone are the casts on her legs, and in their place are large, full-length, black braces.
Her face brightens when she sees me. “Isaiah!”
Every time I enter this house she has the same reaction. I don’t know why. I’ve held her hand in the hospital, sat with her after the multiple surgeries and have supported her during every rehab session. I made a promise to Rachel, and I’m never breaking it.
As I walk over to her, her physical therapist, an ex-football player and one hell of a big son of a bitch, steps in front of me. “Naw, you don’t get to be beside her today. ”
Big or not, I’ll take on any asshole keeping her from me. “Want to rethink that?”
“Isaiah,” Rachel says. “This is my decision. ”
“But you’re learning to walk today,” I say, as if she doesn’t understand.
“I know. ” The casual way she replies causes my hands to twitch.
“But you could fall. ”
Rachel narrows her eyes. “I know, and you need to be okay with that. ”
