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On the way to the airport, I realized I was going to have to win her all over again. If only I understood what was making her hesitate.
16
FOLLOWING ORDERS
Sadie
To show Simon that I really was capable of doing what he wanted, when it suited me, I spent the next few days being Mom and Ronnie’s best girlfriend. We ate dinner together every night. Mom had hired a retired mechanic to take over managing the garage in her and D2’s absence and was taking her convalescence seriously. She rested a lot and roused herself only when it was time to go out with Ronnie.
To make myself happy, I became D2’s most regular and devoted visitor. I took him books and magazines and even watched the replay of a baseball game with him because he wanted company.
Mornings were D2’s. Afternoons and evenings belonged to Mom and Ronnie. The nights were mine, alone in D2’s overly soft bed, dreaming of Simon.
Mom spent two afternoons shopping with Ronnie and me, which was a huge concession because she hated shopping. The first day I found what I considered my ideal wedding dress. It had a white underskirt overlaid with a black lace bodice and overskirt. A wide black satin sash cinched the waist. I put it on hold until we’d explored a few other stores that Ronnie knew.
The next day Ronnie found a dress she thought was better. Asian inspired, it was crimson red with a mandarin collar and silk bodice. A narrow brocade underskirt flashed under the three layers of silk cutaway skirts. In the next store, Mom made the most unexpected choice. She liked a pale pink number with a satin underdress and lace overdress. The skirt was made of gauzy tulle that rustled when I moved in it.
Unable to decide which I liked best, I returned home that evening with all three tucked into a brand new garment bag. Both Mom and Ronnie insisted I wear the dress they’d chosen on my wedding day. I didn’t know how I would resolve that conflict, but I would figure it out once Simon and I finally set a day.
When I visited D2 on Friday morning, Doctor Mansoor was evaluating him.
“Well mate, I think you’re healthy enough to go home,” she said after examining him at length. “Do you feel ready to be back in your own bed yet? You can stay here as long as you like.”
Her Aussie accent made her sound friendly, accessible.
D2 looked at me and then at her. “Will there be home support?”
“Three times a day. More if you need it.”
“Then let’s get me out of here. A sick person might need this bed.”
With that decision, the course of my life changed again. I helped D2 dress, not that he accepted much assistance. He could walk in a shuffling gait and had limited use of his right arm. Despite his protests, he had to accept a wheelchair ride downstairs to where Wayne waited with the car. It was hospital protocol.
I didn’t phone ahead and warn Mom because I knew she’d go into D2’s suite and try to change the bed and clear out my clothes by herself. Tonight, I’d move into her guestroom, and I clenched my teeth at the thought of being crammed into that cluttered, uncomfortable space.
Sitting beside D2 in the limo, I messaged Simon that D2 was on his way home and Simon sent back a smiley face emoji. It was so out of character, I laughed out loud.
Back in Broxton, D2 waved Wayne and me away like pesky flies. “I’ll never get my independence back if you insist on babying me,” he said and gave his lopsided smile.
He stumped into his suite, the walking stick tapping out an imperious rhythm. Looking around he said, “I’m glad to see it’s been lived in.”
I blushed with guilt over the unwashed dishes in the sink and the sundress I’d draped over the sofa to air. D2 was such a neat freak I knew how much that would bother him.
Once six foot three, as tall as Simon, I realized D2 had shrunk a fair bit. In my high-heeled sandals, I was almost looking him in the eye. He used to fill the room with his presence. Now he seemed merely mortal, an ordinary man in an ordinary space. That thought saddened me, and I went and hugged him. He hugged me back before gently pushing me away.
“I’m a wee bit tired,” he said, apologetically. “I might just sit for a while.” With that, he sank into his recliner.
Wayne carried his bags in while I put the kettle on before stripping my sheets off D2’s bed. Mom came down and, with her one good arm, hauled my few clothes out of the closet, and dumped them on a kitchen chair without bothering to remove the hangers. When the limo was unloaded, Wayne stood politely by the door, waiting further instructions.
“Thanks Wayne,” I said. “You’ve been a godsend this week.”
“A big thank you from me too,” D2 added. “I hear you’re the one who got my Continental towed to the only body shop in town that I’d trust to restore her.”
“My pleasure.” Wayne said. “I love those old luxury cars. Call me if you need anything at all. Maybe we could catch up some time and talk about your vintage collection.” He handed a business card to both D2 and Mom.
Mom dropped hers on the kitchen table without looking at it.
Wayne gave one of his professionally cool smiles and left us to each other. Mom flopped down on the sofa. I went and tidied D2’s bedroom.
