Page 82 of Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar 2)

I set off across the grass, jogging to the van to give Poppy a hug. “How did it go?”

“Good.” She nodded. “We’re good.”

Kali and Max joined us, and we all stood away from the van as Cole fiddled with the wheelchair ramp.

Getting Finn in and out of the van was going to take us all some practice.

Six weeks after the accident, he had finally left the hospital.

The first few days after his initial surgery had been a struggle for all of us. I never wanted to set foot in a hospital again. Max had said the same this morning.

Finn had been extremely lucky to get through his surgeries without infection, but the damage to his body was so severe, it had been hard for me to think about that without feeling sick.

He’d had three surgeries since the day of the accident, and with each one, I’d spent the hours praying he’d make it out alive.

His leg had been broken in four places, and after the last surgery, it was more pincushion than appendage. The same was true with his arm. Both his leg and his arm were frozen in thick, white casts. Finn’s pelvis had been broken as well, and because of it, we were looking at another month of this wheelchair.

But the internal injuries had healed. They’d been the life-threatening ones. Now what he needed was time, rest and rehab.

“Hi.” Finn smiled at me as the wheelchair rolled off the van’s ramp.

“Hi.” My heart melted at his smile.

He was hiding the pain. He was frustrated and pissed off that he was confined to a wheelchair. But he was alive. He was smiling. For me. For the kids. For Poppy, who’d had a harder time than the rest of us.

He was smiling because today was the first day in six weeks he wasn’t stuck in a hospital bed.

It was gorgeous, that smile more soothing than a deep breath of fresh air after a summer rain.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “I can wheel myself right back into the van.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” I rolled my eyes and went around to the handlebars of his chair. “Welcome home.”

He looked up at me over his shoulder, his eyes warm. “It’s good to be here.”

I winked at him, then nodded to the kids. “Lead the way.”

Kali and Max giggled as they raced for the ramp that Finn’s employees had constructed for him.

When the doctors had given us the details of Finn’s recovery plan, it had been clear he wouldn’t be going to his own home. Well, it had been clear to me and everyone else in the room that day. Everyone except Finn.

He spent an hour explaining to me, Poppy and his parents how he’d be fine at his house. His chair had an automatic option, so he could motor himself around with the control stick. He had one working arm and could eat sandwiches for a few months. He’d pee into a bottle and could manage a one-handed sponge bath.

When he was done explaining his ludicrous plan, I pulled out my phone in front of him and called Gerry at Alcott. I told him I needed a wheelchair ramp to my front door. When I arrived home that night, his entire crew was there along with a trailer full of lumber.

They built it in two days.

“Want me to push?” Cole offered.

“No, I’ve got him.”

Cole pulled Poppy into his side, and the pair followed the kids up the ramp and into the house.

I held back, wanting a few moments with Finn. “How’s the pain?”

His shoulders sagged. “It’s been a lot of moving around today. I’m feeling it.”

“I’ve got your prescription inside. Have you eaten?”