On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) (22 page)

BOOK: On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20)
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“It scares me too. But letting go now scares me even more. You promised me the year.”

John trailed soft kisses along her cheek and to her lips. Finally, he promised, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached for him. Tracing her fingers along his face, she whispered, “I know nothing’s changed. We still expire on 4/19.”

While he didn’t dispute the fact, neither did he confirm it. His heart was in a far different place than when he signed his name to that contract. How could he ever let go of someone he cared for so deeply? In the past hours he’d come to believe he couldn’t possibly let her go, and was certain that he could never live life without her. Her accident gave him much clarity. Until he could think things through, though, he wouldn’t say anything either way. After so many years running from relationships and commitment, it wasn’t an easy step to consider.

Just a moment later, she drifted off to sleep. John spent the remainder of the night there by her side. She woke occasionally, and each time, he moved in closer, so she would know he was near. Quietly he made arrangements for his clothes to be taken to Chelsea’s house. Irene suggested a nurse to stay with her, but he refused. He would stay in the guest room for as long as she needed him.

During the hours of that night, he discovered something rather shocking about himself. He loved Chelsea more than he feared loving her. With no idea how to navigate their relationship, he decided he would figure it out along the way. Just as she said in Montana, he would quit thinking about it and simply enjoy being with her. After his time in New York and then the accident, he did learn one thing; he couldn’t possibly let her go, at least not yet.

Her first night home was the most difficult. Chelsea lay there in her bed desperate to go to the bathroom, but couldn’t bring herself to wake John. He’d had an air mattress delivered and was currently asleep on it in the floor of her bedroom. Finally, unable to wait any longer, she rolled gently onto her side, pain radiating through her ribs, and struggled to sit up.

John heard her begin to stir and woke immediately. Jumping up from his mattress, he went to her. “What are you doing?”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” She was so stubborn and hated to ask for help with anything. It drove him crazy.

“You needed to catch up on your sleep.” She knew he had missed an entire night of sleep and didn’t want to disturb him.

Taking her elbow, he helped her stand. She moaned as she stood, causing a sick feeling to settle in his stomach. “I’ve got you.” As gently as possible, he wrapped his arm around her waist and told her to put as much pressure on him as she needed. Once he got her to the toilet, he turned, saying, “I’ll be just outside the door.”

Chelsea looked at him, embarrassed. “You can’t stand right there; you’ll hear me tinkle.”

He grinned at how cute she was. “I’ve heard a woman tinkle before.”

“Not me.”

“Okay, but don’t try to walk back alone.”

John waited until he heard the toilet flush before going back into the bathroom. The door to the toilet area was still closed. So he waited. Finally, after some time, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Frustrated, she grumbled, “It’s taking me forever to get my pants up with one hand.”

“Let me help you.”

“No way.”

“Chelsea!”

“I’ve about got it.”

When she opened the door, he saw that she was so pale, she looked as if she might collapse at any moment. Moving quickly toward her, he reached for her and helped her to the sink. He turned the water on, lathered up his hands, and took her good hand in between his and began washing. Without a word, he rinsed her hand and dried it with a towel. When he looked up at her in the mirror, he saw tears in her eyes. She’d cried a whole lot since he’d been back. “Are you hurting?”

“No,” she squeaked out.

“What is it then?”

“You are so sweet.” With that statement, she began to cry harder.

Wrapping his arm gently around her, he said, “I know, but you can’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

She laughed softly. He always knew what to say. She loved his sense of humor. She loved him. If she hadn’t before, the way he cared for her would cause her to.

“I think maybe the pain meds are making you weepy.”

“Me, too.” She was cuddled against his chest, not in any hurry to leave his embrace.

“What if you are allergic to it?”

“I don’t know. But I hate how it makes me feel.”

John helped her to the bed and went for his phone. Before placing the call, he went back and sat on the side of her bed. She was no longer crying. Helping her to get comfortable, he pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Comfy?”

“Don’t make me cry again. Quit being so sweet.”

For a minute he sat there, looking at her. “Chels.”

“Huh?” She was feeling very drowsy.

“Tell me you forgive me. I need to hear it.”

Smiling softly, she offered, “I forgive you.”

“I’ll never do that to you again.”

“You don’t have to. You can always talk to me, about anything.”

“I know and I will. I promise.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then he began to plant tiny, light kisses all over her face.

Grinning, wondering if maybe she’d already drifted off and was having the sweetest dream, she mumbled, “What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing you all better.”

A tear trickled down her cheek again, but quickly, she drifted off to sleep. Once she was resting comfortably, he called a twenty-four hour pharmacy and asked the pharmacist if there was anything to be concerned about with the medication. He didn’t believe there was. Not trusting him though, John dialed a friend of his, one of the doctors who went in to check on Chelsea that first day.

When Jeff answered, John could tell he was annoyed. It was after midnight, not exactly a polite time to call and ask for medical advice. John was undeterred. Jeff said he thought she’d be fine. But with her emotions running so high, John knew the medication couldn’t possibly be good for her. He decided he would try to find her an alternative pain medication the next day. Jeff said to call him at the office.

John crawled back onto his air mattress and lay there staring up at the ceiling. Since arriving at her hospital room, nothing had felt more right than to take care of her when she was weakest. He wanted to always take care of her. He wanted to always be there for her. Quite simply, he was in love with her.

Chelsea had been home for a week. John worked from her place when he absolutely had to, but for the most part, he devoted his time to taking care of and being with her. Once she stopped taking the pain medication, she began to feel better. The soreness was slowly fading. For the first few days, she felt as if she had been beaten from head to toe. And for the most part, that was how she looked.

With her arm in a sling, she often had trouble doing the simplest of things, but John was always there, insisting he help. He did most of the cooking while she supervised. It took her by surprise how much he enjoyed working in the kitchen and how capable of a chef he turned out to be. As they settled in to a comfortable domestic routine, Chelsea found that she’d never been happier or more content in her life.

After that final conversation in the hospital, they never discussed end times again. Since then, he’d become this entirely new man. Gone was the reserve he demonstrated prior to that; instead, he was so engaged in their relationship, she often forgot that a contract determined their fate. When it did come to mind, she did exactly what she had promised herself she would; she pushed the thought away. Knowing that the car accident was truly a brush with death, she recognized she really wasn’t promised tomorrow. So why worry about it? Her time with John was better spent on more important things.

Often, they discussed faith, and Chelsea learned that he was saved when he was a teenager. As much as she’d heard the scripture about knowing a believer by their fruit, it caused her to pray long and hard about his salvation. John was a good man and had a heart to help people, but there was no kingdom fruit. He had no desire to go to church prior to going with her. Through her prayers, though, the Lord helped her to see that a person can fall so far away that the Spirit is quenched to a level of near silence. Maybe that was what had happened in John’s case. As she probed him on the matter, his absolute assurance was that he’d asked in sincere faith, understanding what Jesus had done for him. He knew he could never do enough to earn it. Clearly he knew it all. But apparently, somewhere along the way, his growth had been stunted. Maybe it was seed scattered amongst the weeds. It was that feeling of not being good enough that sent him running, chasing after anything that would make him feel as if he were. Of course she kept most of her observations to herself.

Even after John moved his things back home at her assurance that she was able to take care of herself well enough, he continued to come over every evening without fail. He worked shorter hours than normal, and she didn’t go into the office at all. Since most of what he’d wanted her to organize and research was completed, and with school about to
begin, he preferred that she focus entirely on school and on him. When he said that, at first she thought he was teasing, but he wasn’t. Just a few weeks before, she couldn’t have imagined him to be so committed to their relationship and to her or to be so open and honest about his feelings. He was truly a new man, and that, as strange as it might sound if she said it aloud, made the accident worthwhile.

Many evenings he arrived with flowers and something to prepare for dinner. They cooked together and ate together. Most nights he would stay until Chelsea was ready for bed, then he would make his way home. And when they were not together, he called or texted her constantly. While he never said the words, she felt him pouring his love out upon her. She gave him that same love in return. It was during this time she noticed he was no longer wearing his wedding band. Since he never mentioned it, she didn’t either. But there was something in the gesture of removing it that assured her he was finally free from Tracy. It was when she
knew
he loved her as deeply as she loved him. Considering their future or lack thereof, he would likely never tell her so, but hearing it wouldn’t make it any more real than what she felt.

John’s forty-ninth birthday came and they celebrated with a night out together. It was the first time they went out to dinner after the accident. Chelsea gave him a photo album with pictures she’d taken of them so far. What could you get the man who has everything he wants or needs? His reaction to it was not exactly what she expected. He seemed much more affected by the gift than she anticipated. Mostly, she thought he would kind of laugh it off, but instead, he looked at it many times throughout the evening, and while he did, there was a look on his face she found impossible to read. It seemed to be an odd mixture of gladness and regret.

In the album she gave him, Chelsea included her solo koala and crocodile photos. When he saw them the first time, he apologized sincerely for how often he neglected her, offering to take her back and have a do-over. It was a reminder to him of just how precious his time with her was. There were many places he wanted to take her, and going forward, he would make sure to really be there with her, fully engaged in every moment.

Once school began, their lives together hardly changed. While she studied or read at night, he sat with her, his computer resting on his lap or a file in hand. Most often they sat on the sofa together, her leaning on him while they each worked. Sometimes, for no reason at all, he would turn and kiss her forehead or cheek or whatever was nearest. They fit together so perfectly, it was hard to believe there was such a vast difference in their ages. Neither felt the difference. Within their new domestic routine, both came to the point where they could easily envision a future together, as if it truly were meant to be.

After a few weeks more, once she was out of her sling, they began traveling again. He took her to New York, but even more special to her, they went back to Montana to see his parents. Louise made such a fuss over her after her accident that she would not consider Chelsea lifting a finger to cook. Louise waited on her hand and foot and made a bigger to-do over her than John had. Over the weeks of her recuperation, Louise had stayed in constant touch with Chelsea, concerned about her progress in healing. Many times she offered to fly to L.A. and help out, but John insisted he had the position of nurse filled. And he did.

While at John’s parent’s, the topic of Thanksgiving came up. Louise wanted them to come there for Thanksgiving Day. When she asked, Chelsea looked over at John, uncertain of what he might say. She had never missed Thanksgiving with her family. And this coming holiday would be the first without her granddad. Her mom would have a hard time to be sure. John, noticing the look of uncertainty in her eyes, assured his mother that they’d discuss it.

Later, walking back toward the house from the barn, he asked her, “You need to go home for Thanksgiving, don’t you?”

Nodding quietly, she didn’t reply. A few times the idea of the upcoming holidays came to mind, and so far, she had not yet come to a conclusion about how to get through them with John. She wanted to be with him. It would be the only Thanksgiving and Christmas they would ever share together. But these firsts without her granddad would be emotional for her mom. So torn on the matter was she, that often she would have to push the thought aside entirely, unsure of how to proceed.

“I understand.” By the look on her face, he could tell she intended to go alone. For her to meet his parents was one thing. Of course they accepted her. He could only imagine how her family would react to him and to his age. Each time her mother called while he was at her condo, Chelsea would take the call in the bedroom. It was not as if he blamed her for keeping their relationship a secret. If he were her dad, he would likely kill some perverted old man for dating his twenty-three-year-old daughter. Mark agreed when asked how he would react.

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