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“Really baby? We’re going to have a wheelchair race?”
“Yes, we are! And I hope you are prepared to lose.”
“I see we are racing and talking shit today. Well, bring your ass, Joy, and no crying when I win.”
“Oh, I like being underestimated, Mr. Gideon. Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is! I bet you a thousand dollars I’ll beat you!”
“Bet!”
We drive out on the go-kart track and prepare to race. She looks so cute in her chair with her matching helmet. Jabarri produces a helmet for me too.
“Safety first,” he tells me.
Once we are ready, Jabarri stands in front of us holding a handkerchief like they did in the 1950’s street racing, lifts it in the air, twirls it around a few times, pulls it down and says “GO!” and we do. At first, I was going to let her win, but I found myself actually racing her; she was not the push over I had expected. She is talking shit and laughing through the bluetooth built into the helmet, obviously having the time of her life. We round the last turn, and we both push it, making us neck and neck, but just as she thinks she has me beat I go as fast as the wheelchair will allow to take the win.
“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you won! I was right there; you cheated!” she exclaims.
“Really Hairkoa? How could I cheat? You lost. Just accept that I am the better driver.”
“Better driver my ass!” We argue like this all the way to the backyard where Jabarri is just taking the first round of cooked barbeque off the grill. Before long we are all sitting at the outside dining room enjoying a delicious lunch. Peter shows up with Lennox for her daily check-in with me.
“Tell me you were not out there trying to do anything,” she says looking at me one eyebrow raised.
“Um…no I did not try to participate in the stuff my brothers were doing.”
“That sounds like there’s an omission in there somewhere. I’ve been a doctor long enough to know when the answer is that specific and not just a yes or no, they are trying to hide a loophole. So, what did you participate in?”
“A little wheelchair racing.”
“Wheelchair racing?! Are you serious with me?”
“It’s not like I could get worse. Doc, I’m already paralyzed,” I say.
“You could get dead, Joseph! Or sustain a head injury!”
“I had a helmet on.”
“Oh, well since you had on a helmet, I guess that makes it ok,” she says with an eye roll and a shake of her head. I go with her inside the house for her to evaluate my condition and ascertain if there have been any changes. After her exam shows there has been no change, good or bad, we end up back outside discussing Peter and Lennox’s wedding plans. I feel bad knowing their nuptials were delayed because of me.
“What can we do to help you with your wedding, Peter?”
“Savvy, will you do me the honor of singing at my wedding? And Jaasiel, I know it is a lot to ask but if you could create the menu and oversee the cooking and preparation of the food, I would be ever so grateful. Also, I would ask that you personally cook the wedding parties’ food.”
“Of course, it would be an honor,” Jaasiel says.
“And Peter, you already know I will sing. I hope I can make it all the way through the song without crying,” Savvy says with tears in her eyes. We spend the rest of the evening finalizing wedding plans for Peter and Lennox, eating all the food as usual, and just enjoying being together.
Joyce
The day was wonderful. I am still upset about losing our race, but I have one more activity for us tonight. We make it back to his suite, and when he sees what I have prepared, he looks like a kid in a candy store. I have snacks set up and juice for him, since he is not drinking during his recovery, and wine for myself. There are two canvases set up with the picture we are going to be painting, and the music is playing low in the background. We take our places in front of our respective canvases and begin to paint. I am not artistic at all but thank God these canvases are pre-lined and paint by number because other than that mine would look like a one-year-old did it.
“I bet this bronze color would look amazing against your skin,” he says as he holds the paint brush next to my face.
“Why don’t you try it and find out? This is edible body paint,” I say with more than a little heat in my voice. Knowing where Solo and I usually end up, I made sure to get paint that wouldn’t stain any of the fabrics in his room.
“Really?” he says with a sly look on his face, the canvases completely forgotten.
The next morning, we wake up with the sheets stuck to us thanks to the paint that is all over the place. we decided to not bother trying to wash the sheets, since they are covered in bronze paint; they immediately went in the garbage. This is a new experience for me, not just having a man who loves me like he does, but also a man I can spoil and love back, and to think I almost willingly let this slip through my fingers. Brooklyn comes in to take his vitals, give him his medications, and she makes sure he is ok and doesn’t need anything. Between all the excitement yesterday and the marathon love making session from last night, he was feeling a little sore this morning, but according to Lennox, Aryan and New York aka Brooklyn, it’s nothing some rest and taking it easy won’t fix. Since we weren’t doing any PT today to let him recover, I decided to do some low energy activities.
