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“Thank you, Mrs. Chaplin,” I said and gave her another hug.
“No, thank you. And please, call me Millie.”
“All right. See you tomorrow, Millie.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANDREW
Two weeks later, I signed my discharge papers releasing me from the orthopedic rehabilitation facility that I called home for nearly a month. In total, I lost thirty-eight days of my life recovering from some asshole’s twisted version of revenge. Yet here I was, still desperately trying to focus on the positive.
My mother and Maye were driving me crazy with their constant upbeat rah-rah attitudes, but I knew they meant well. I would always cherish the hours the beautiful, intelligent, witty, and ambitious young woman devoted to not only my recovery and mental health stability but also my general well-being. If I added up all the time she’d spent lying with me, talking with me, and just being silly so I wouldn’t spend too much time in my own head, we compacted a six-month period of regular dating into the past few weeks.
I’d regained some feeling in my legs, and the doctors still believed I’d make a full recovery. Now that I was headed home, Mara sent me off with a program of exercises to do daily. She was wise enough to issue her demands right in front of Maye and Mom, so there would be no skipping workouts once I got home.
Home.
One word never had more appeal. Well, maybe one. Maye. All I had to do was say her name or hear it spoken by another, and happiness enveloped me. There hadn’t been another time in my life when I was so at peace. It seemed like a strange takeaway after being run down by a vehicle, but life worked in funny ways.
There was a warrant issued for Joel Higgins. Footage from three different security cameras in that parking lot was used to place his car at the scene the night I was hit and identified him as the driver.
Now, because of his uncontrolled jealousy, the guy was facing attempted voluntary manslaughter charges.
The only problem was the kid took off from the scene of the accident, and the authorities still hadn’t located him. With Baja being so close, there was suspicion that he had crossed the border within a week of the incident. The police were still trying to obtain security camera footage from the border checkpoints to see if they could track him into Mexico.
He would get what was coming to him one day. One way or another, he’d pay for what he did. Best of all, I still had the girl. And I had no intention of letting her go. Because I’d been confined to a bed for the past month, we’d spent so much time just talking. I felt like I knew her on a deeper level than I’d ever known any other woman I’d dated.
She was so genuine and honest, and when I asked her questions, she always gave it to me straight. I loved that about her. Honestly, there were so many things I loved about her, I couldn’t imagine a day going by without her in it. Several times I was tempted to invite her to move into my home when I was discharged, but I feared I’d spook her by rushing things.
Two weeks ago, I convinced her to start using my car as her own. It was ridiculous that she had to bargain for the use of the vehicle she shared with her twin. Plus, my car was just sitting in my driveway collecting dust and leaves. There were selfish reasons for my generosity too. With transportation at her disposal, she could spend every day at the hospital with me.
“I’m going to miss it here,” she said the morning of my discharge as we looked around the room for the last time.
I tipped my head to the side in a be serious kind of way, and she immediately defended her comment.
“I’m serious. We’ve been in our own little cocoon here, and I’ve loved spending so much time together. Plus, the staff,” she added with affection. “I’m going to miss seeing all of them, too.”
Her heart was so big and so generous, it made me care for her that much more. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears as she said goodbye to all the regulars who had helped on my road to recovery.
“Don’t be sad now,” my attending physician told her. “Andrew will have plenty of follow-up appointments in the next few months. You’ll still see us. Just because he’s going home doesn’t mean his recovery is over.”
Yeah, thanks for that reminder, Doc.
“Positive. I’m staying positive,” I reminded myself.
Maye squeezed my hand and looked down to where I sat in the facility’s wheelchair. “What did you say?”
My mother pushed me toward the exit while Maye walked alongside, gripping my hand possessively. On the opposite shoulder, she carried a large duffel with the belongings I’d accumulated over the duration of my stay.
Her cast was fully decorated now. People signed it and drew random pictures on the blue fiberglass, and tomorrow she had an appointment to finally have the thing removed. Once I was settled in the passenger seat of the car, Mom in the back and Maye behind the wheel, I asked her about the appointment.
“Are you excited about tomorrow? Getting the cast off?” I added when she looked at me with confusion.
Her shoulders dropped low after she put the car in drive. “No. They moved the appointment to Friday, so now I have to wait a few more days.”
“That sucks. Why did they reschedule?” I asked, just making small talk as we made our way home.
She shrugged. “Not sure why. I didn’t ask, and they didn’t say. I’ve had it on for this long. A few more days will be fine.”
