Strong (17 page)

In the afternoon, I head home to say good-bye to my mom and Fiona. The week has been so enjoyable, I don't want to have it end on a sour note. But I have to make sure my family knows what my plans are.

“
Mom, I'm staying in Madison, even after Chase gets out of the hospital. The Nichols will let me stay with them until the wedding. I know it's sudden, but I can't do this any other way.”

My mom purses her lips and sighs. She finally speaks, “I know, honey.  I know.” There are tears in her eyes, and mine are feeling damp as well. Fiona is already reaching for the Kleenex. None of us had expected that I would move away from home so suddenly.

“I'll come home in a few weeks to get some of my things,” I tell my mom.

I hug Fiona. “Next time I see you, we'll shop for bridesmaid dresses. Maybe I'll have to meet more of Chase's friends to see if I can hook you up with anyone,” I giggle at her, while my mom gives me a disapproving look.

“Love you both!” I stand on the porch and wave them off.

Instead of heading back to the hospital right away, I don my running gear. It has been far too long since I ran. I didn't dare leave Chase when he was unconscious; the most I got was a quick power walk around the hospital. But it's a sunny winter day – my favorite kind of day for running.

I make a mental note of the location of the house, the neighbors' houses, the landscaping. I keep track of various houses and street signs along the way. I have my phone, but getting lost would be a little humiliating.

As I pick up speed, I breathe more heavily, but it feels wonderful.

Thank you, God, for this beautiful day.  Thank you for Chase and our relationship.  Thank you for my  family. Thank you for my health.
My gratitude goes on and on.

Once I get into a rhythm, my mind begins to wander back to Chase's cross-country days. I feel a twinge of sadness that he and I won't be able to run together. He has made it clear that he is capable of doing many other outdoor activities, though.

Even though physical therapy has been difficult, I know that Chase won't be confined to a wheelchair. I'm relieved. But what if he deteriorates over time?

I imagine the two of us as grandparents, me with a cane and him in a wheelchair. It's a quaint picture that makes me smile inside my mind. But the reality of a wheelchair presents more complications.

I can't figure all of that out right now,
I tell myself.
There's no way we can plan for every possibility. We will take it one day at a time.

Chapter 20

I am quietly observing Chase during his physical therapy session. He's been very slow and awkward at walking the past few days. I assume that it's just fatigue, but I occasionally fear that it's something more serious.

Was there some other complication from the surgery that we don't know about? Dr. Carbondale doesn't seem to think so, but I still have a lingering concern.

Chase has been working really hard all week and it's disappointing for
me
to see him not making much progress. Obviously it's much harder for Chase. I can see the frustration written across his face again.

Chase awkwardly stands up out of his wheelchair, but he can barely make it across the room with his crutches. He stumbles a few times, with Brian close enough to catch him. After trying to walk across the room two or three more times, Brian re-directs Chase's energy to walking with the parallel bars, facing himself in the mirror. He takes hesitant steps and falls onto one knee about half-way down the mat. Brian catches him so he doesn't fall completely, but I can see that Chase has had enough.

He regains his balance, makes it to the end of the bars, throws his crutches off the wheelchair so that they clatter loudly across the tile floor. He sits down with a huff. “I'm done!” He tells Brian.

I've never seen Chase act like this. I close my eyes and say a quiet prayer,
God please help him
. Then I take the wheelchair from Brian and silently wheel Chase back to his room.

Again, he slumps back in bed, but he doesn't fall asleep.

I'm not sure he's ready for encouragement, so I say nothing.

Finally, Chase whispers, “I'm sorry.”

“What?” I ask.

“
I'm sorry you had to see that. I kind of lost it.” He's still closing his eyes.

I move to the side of the bed.  “Chase, don't be ridiculous. I can't imagine how hard this is for you.  If you didn't get frustrated, you wouldn't be human.”

He sighs, “I know. I just thought I was past all of this, you know?”

“
I know, Baby. Don't worry about what I think, okay? You can't scare me.” I hug him tightly to assure him that he hasn't freaked me out.

“
I think I feel a little scared myself. It took a lot for me to get over the crash. I'm not sure how to explain it. I guess I feel kind of vulnerable. Or maybe it's like, I'm
afraid
to be vulnerable. I've set my mind on being strong for such a long time....”

I just stroke his hand and nod my head.

“It was awful, you know. The accident. Finding out I would never walk normally again. I thought I was done with all of that, but this just makes me feel like I'm starting over.” He closes his eyes and bites his lip.

I slowly grasp what he's trying to communicate. When I first met Chase, he seemed so complete, so confident, so
perfect
. But he is wounded. His hurt runs deep. So deep that it has been covered over and looks as if it has healed, but the wound underneath is still very real. The process of going through surgery and the coma and now physical therapy – it has opened the wound again. The hurt is new and fresh. He has to face his fear of losing his dreams – not walking, not becoming a doctor, not having a family. The only thing I can do is to be there for him. I can't heal this hurt.

Only God can.

I'm not entirely sure that he won't cry.

“
It's okay if you're scared sometimes, Chase.”

I put my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in his neck. I feel his body move with quiet sobs. I hold him tighter. 

His breathing calms and he whispers in my ear. “I'm afraid of failing, Kate.”

I pull away and look at him, “What do you mean by
failing
?”

“
I just want to be able to provide for you. When I first had the accident, all I really had to think about was trying to walk again and getting through high school and into a good college. Now, we're on the verge of making a family. I want to be able to do everything I've dreamed of doing, and I want to take care of you. I decided some time in the past few years that I would live my life like nothing ever happened to me. Now, I'm being reminded that I
can't
do everything.” His voice cracks as he finishes.

“
Oh, Chase,” I tell him. “You're wrong. You can do
anything
.” I hesitate before admitting to him, “Chase, I overheard your conversation with your dad, the other night. Remember? When I came back for my purse. You told your dad he wasn't a failure. And that you forgave him. Don't let the past come back to haunt you. Your dad doesn't think you're a failure.  And you never will be.”

“
What if I can't make love to you?” He barely whispers. “Will you still want me?”

“
I'm in love with you, and I'm staying with you forever. I doubt that will be a problem. We don't know yet if we can have children, but we already agreed we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.  Besides, this isn't about what you can give me, Chase.”

Chase kisses me urgently and then wraps himself around me again. I don't let go until he does.

“I prayed for you again today,” I tell him. “And I read another verse in the Bible. I found one in your room and I've been reading it.
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength
,” I recite the verse for him.

A new light enters Chase's eyes. “Philippians 4:13. Thank you.”

Today is the Chase will come home.  I can't believe that only one month ago, we were snuggled up together at his church on Christmas Eve. It feels like years have passed since that magical night.

Since Chase's meltdown in the hospital, he's had progressively better days. Frustration is a constant, but he's handling it better. Slowly but surely, he is regaining his strength.

After that most frustrating day, Chase and I began to pray together in the mornings. When I arrived at the hospital, we would hold hands and pray for his recovery, for our wedding plans, for Chelsea and Mike, and for whatever else came to mind. Then we would thank God together for everything He had done for us. Finally, we would say a simple, “Our Father.”

I love sharing a new level of faith with Chase. I feel closer to him and closer to God than I've ever felt in my life.

Dr. and Mrs. Nichols have gone to get Chase from the hospital. I agreed to stay home and make dinner.

I'm making his favorite, German sausage with potatoes and sauerkraut.

I find the change of pace fun and relaxing. It's a shift from the hyper-vigilant state I've been maintaining for the last three weeks. I check everything on the stove, and then I find the good china to set the table in the formal dining room. I carefully set out the dishes. Chelsea and Mike will be joining us, too.

This room and the sun porch are my two favorite rooms in the Nichols' house. The dining room walls are the same kind of blue as the kitchen, but it's a darker, more comforting shade. A light wood wainscoting graces the bottom half of the walls and keeps the room from appearing too dark. The table is fairly plain, but the chairs are upholstered in a delicate paisley design with blues and greens that compliment the walls.

I sit at the table and wait to hear the car pulling into the garage. I close my eyes and eagerly await Chase's homecoming.

His mind is back to normal, for the most part. His short-term memory may have some mild deficiencies. But that's it. Otherwise, Chase made it through this ordeal unscathed.

I can't believe that I have also made it through the last several weeks. During moments when I thought I just couldn't go on, I somehow had the strength to keep moving. Despite the fact that I'm thrilled he is coming home today, I am mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. It's probably nothing that a weekend of sleep won't cure. But tonight's dinner will be festive enough to keep my attention. Then I assume that we will all try to get some much-needed rest.

I hear the car pull up and I run to the garage in my slippers. As soon as he steps out of the car, I grab him in the most ferocious hug and almost knock him over.

“
Easy,” he gives me a playful warning, and then pecks me on the lips.

“
Welcome home, Mr. Nichols,” I grin.

“
Welcome home to you too, future Mrs. Nichols.” He squeezes me and we head into the house.

Dinner has turned out perfect, I will proudly admit. Not only is the food fabulous, but the company as well. I have to chuckle to myself when I remember the last time that the six of us were gathered around the table. Mrs. Nichols was going on and on whether Chase was ready for a relationship or whether I was ready to care for him. I think I've more than proven my desire
and
my ability to care for him, although none of us could have gotten through the past few weeks without each other. Things have changed so drastically in such a short amount of time.

As I had suspected, we spend the entire weekend – all six of us, since Chelsea and Mike decided to stay to help out in whatever way they could – in our pajamas, sleeping late, watching movies and embarrassing Chase with the family's best stories.  It is a beautiful bonding weekend, kind of my initiation into the Nichols family.

It doesn't take long for us to get into a routine after that. Dr. Nichols goes back to work. Mrs. Nichols is a homemaker, but she sure is busy. She's involved in a number of volunteer opportunities and she's out of the house for a good part of each day. Chelsea and Mike stop by once or twice a week, but their lives are resuming the usual busy-ness as well.

That leaves Chase and me alone. A lot. We decide quite quickly that we have to set up some parameters to help us to make it to our wedding night without getting physical. We decided on at least one hard and fast rule.: No visiting in each other's bedrooms. I'm not quite sure how engaged couples manage long engagements without having sex. It seems almost impossible to survive the few months that we have until the wedding. Having gone through the drama of almost losing Chase and watching him work his way back to
normalcy,
our emotions have both been heightened for a long time. Passion seems to be a natural by-product of our intense emotions. But we pray every day for strength to remain pure until our wedding night.

Chapter 21

Our life continues to pick up the pace. Chase registers for fall classes so that he can finish his last semester. He decides not to push himself for summer classes in case he's not ready. Besides, he will need the time to study for the Medical College Admission Test. He applies to three medical schools: Northwestern University, University of Michigan, and Mayo Medical School. I'm disappointed that he doesn't apply for the University of Wisconsin, but I'm glad his other choices are at least in the Midwest.  He shares my desire to return to my hometown or his to raise our children.

Once the medical school applications are finished, Chase will be feverishly studying for his MCAT exams. He also still needs a lot of rest.

I decide not to enroll in classes yet. I don't want to do a few semesters here in Madison and then transfer to yet another college to finish my undergraduate degree. I will try to finish wherever Chase ends up going to med school.

I decide, instead, to pursue a part-time job. I had been thinking about it since I told Chase I was going to stay in Madison. He and his parents insisted that I didn't have to. But I don't feel right staying with them if I can't contribute anything. Besides, it will give my parents peace of mind to know that I'm serious about pursuing a career.

A job, along with continuing wedding plans, should also provide me with enough distraction from the constant temptation of my husband-to-be.

“Good morning, Mr. Nichols,” I say as I hand Chase a cup of joe. I lean in to kiss him.

I'm wearing my favorite navy blue pantsuit, the one with the peplum jacket. I have a pale pink dress shirt underneath, and my favorite pair of earrings.

“Same to you, future Mrs. Nichols.  You look super! Where are you going today?”

I sit down on the chair next to him in the breakfast nook. “I have an interview with Vernis Therapy Clinic today. It will be a great opportunity to get started in the field. It's a part time file clerk position, but I have to start somewhere, right?”

“That's great, Katie!  You'll be perfect.”

“
Well, I don't have the job yet.”

“
You will.” He sends me to my interview with a kiss.

“Hi, I'm Frederick Vernis.” A tall, heavy-set gentleman extends his hand toward me. I shake his hand firmly and meet his gaze, just as my father taught me to do. “And this is Mary, one of our occupational therapists. She will be helping me conduct the interview.”

I greet them with a confident smile, even though my insides are squirming around like I ate worms for breakfast.

“So, Katherine, tell us a little bit about yourself.”

I try to keep it short, but I want to make sure that I mention my experience with my grandmother as well as my current situation with my fiance. “I'm planning to study occupational therapy. I would love the opportunity to familiarize myself with a therapy clinic.”

There are relatively few questions in the interview, and before I know it, I'm shaking hands with Dr. Vernis again, who assures me, “I'll let you know as soon as I've made a decision. It should be by the end of the week.”

I don't have to wait nearly that long. My phone rings as I'm pulling into the Nichols' driveway. It's Mary from the therapy clinic.” 

“On behalf of Dr. Vernis, I would like to offer you the job.”

I race into the house, squealing.

Chase meets me in the entry way and throws his arm around me.

“
Congratulations, Katie. I knew you could do it.”