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When I join her at the table, I hand her the paperwork from the hospital detailing how to best set up a home for new amputees. “I haven't really looked at the work you guys did on the house,” I apologize. “I did my security check, but after my shower, I crashed on the couch.”
Lila tosses blond curls behind her shoulder and selects a pastry, raspberry filling oozing from slits in the top. “You look like you’re dead on your feet.” She knows I’d never have been able to relax enough to nap while surrounded by strangers. She wouldn’t have, either.
“I’ve been awake for two days,” I admit. I bite down and groan at the combination of flaky pastry, sweet glaze, and tart filling. “Oh my God. You’re the best woman I know.”
“Damn right I am. I’m freaking awesome,” she laughs. “Let me bring you up to speed, and then we’ll look everything over later.” I nod, licking raspberry filling off my lips as she begins.
“The downstairs rooms really didn’t need much. The main walking areas are clear, so Mark should be able to navigate easily. We secured all the rugs and mats with extra-grip velcro tape.
“We set up the downstairs bedroom for him,” she continues. “I found a huge arched chaise so he can prop his leg up, and we swapped the standard bathroom door for one that slides on a ceiling track. I bought extra pillows and made the bed with minimal layers so he won’t get tangled in the bedding.
“The biggest changes we made were in his bathroom. We installed wall-mounted shelves because they’d be easier for him to access than lower cabinets, and Tyson did an amazing job modifying the shower. We also relocated your pathetic office upstairs and repurposed the space.”
I frown. “I noticed my office door was locked. And what do you mean, pathetic?” I reach for another pastry.
Lila laughs. “Your desk had three empty folders, sticky notes, and a handful of paper clips. Your credenza only had a few dust bunnies. It was merely a suggestion of an office, not a functional one.”
“It functioned perfectly fine. I used my laptop at that desk. And I’m positive I had a couple of pens, too. And a green highlighter.”
Lila rolls her eyes. “Well, we relocated your –” she forms air quotes – “ ‘office’ upstairs, and transformed that space into a rehab gym. Tucker and Tom filled it with –” more air quotes – “ ‘necessary equipment’ to help Mark regain his strength and mobility.”
I finish a second danish bite and push the saucer aside. Lila studies my barely-touched pile of pastries, and I glance away, feeling the weight of her eyes. She’s silent, instead reaching for the papers from Brooke.
“I thought of this,” she taps the page, “keeping the most-used items within arm’s reach. I put baskets in the bedroom and living room. His wall-mounted bedside shelves had space underneath for a mini fridge, so I added one.” Lila ticks items off as she reads. “He’s practiced with his crutches, we have wide open pathways, we added handrails in the bathroom. Oh – outlet nightlights. I didn’t think of those.” She scribbles on a pad she unearths from her purse before continuing. “ ‘Clothes that are easily removed, such as pull-on shorts and shirts.’ Does he need more clothes?”
I nod. “Definitely. I only picked up a handful of shirts and shorts once he quit wearing hospital gowns. I pissed him off with non-slip socks. He refused to wear one at first because he insisted he wasn’t frail or elderly.” I smile. “When I pointed out that falling on his ass would keep him at Brooke longer, he shut up.”
Lila continues jotting notes. “Wall-mounted hooks near the shower. I didn’t think about those, either.” She flips several pages before commenting, “We’ve done most of these other things. A shower bench, handheld shower heads, a handicap-height toilet. And we swapped out the bedroom and living room pull-switch ceiling fans for ones with remote controls.”
I stare at her. “I can’t believe you guys did all this. You have to let me pay you back.”
“Not happening, Charlie, so shut up,” she says, but her voice is gentle. “We love you guys. We’ll do anything we can to help. And I owe Mark my life. So this?” she gestures around. “This is nothing.”
“I get it.” I owe him my life, too. No sooner has that thought crossed my mind than the memories erupt again, unwanted images forcing themselves into the forefront.
Soulless black eyes leer at me.
No. I shut my eyes tightly, fighting the fear rising in my chest.
“Breathe,” Lila murmurs, her soft hand grasping mine. “You’re safe now. Deep breaths.”
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
I’m safe here.
No one’s going to hurt me.
It takes several minutes for me to regain control. My panic attacks are always worse when I’m tired. I open my eyes and shove my chair back, desperate for a distraction. “C'mon. Let’s go see your hard work.”
Lila squeezes my hand before leading me to Mark’s room. I’ve always loved this room. When I moved in, I chose the upstairs master bedroom because it was further from the entrances, giving me more time to react to intruders, but this room suits my style perfectly. Plush beige carpet cushions the hardwood underneath. White floor-length blackout curtains puddle gracefully on the floor, framing a wall of windows that provides a spectacular view of the scenic mountains. In front of them perches an enormous white arched chaise. It’s easily large enough for two, casually draped with a greige faux-fur throw and piled with squashy pillows. Beside it sits a low bookcase with a few plants, a lamp, and artfully arranged books. The wall behind the bed is lined with horizontal driftwood-gray planks, creating a stunning feature wall. Bedside shelves with shallow drawers are wall-mounted on either side of the bed, and beneath one sits a new mini fridge. The bed is huge, simply dressed with a white comforter, a faux-fur blanket, and pillows. A massive dresser faces the foot of the bed, and above it hangs a large television.
It’s absolutely gorgeous.
“This is perfect, Lila. He’ll love this.”
She shrugs. “It fits the vibe of your house.” She nudges me toward the bathroom. “Check this out,” she says, tugging lightly on the gray barn-style door. “It slides, so he won’t need to struggle with one that swings in and out.”
