Working It Out (15 page)

Alec grinned. “They also smell way better than my other
ones.” He slid his hands under one leg and lifted his foot. “Want to take a
whiff?”

Graced eyed him with a raised eyebrow. “You seriously
want me to smell your socks?”

“Sure, why not?” He grinned.

“You’re mental.”

Alec chuckled, and a wonderful happiness weaved its way
into Grace’s heart, warming and swelling it. Grace suddenly felt like she’d
been transported back in time—back to the day when Alec constantly smiled and
teased and made everyone laugh. When he’d fill her locker with water balloons,
laugh hysterically when they burst on the ground around her, and help her clean
up the mess afterwards. When he’d pull out his guitar and change the lyrics of
popular songs to something ridiculous. When he was—well, Alec.

Grace didn’t realize how much she’d missed him until now.

She wanted to throw her arms around her brother and shout,
“Welcome back!” She wanted to call her parents to share the good news. And she
wanted to call Seth to tell him thank you, thank you, thank you.

Looking back, Grace couldn’t believe how much she’d
misjudged Seth. He was like a tree feller, crashing through the forest with a
machete and slicing down trees. At first she’d considered it a massive
disturbance and catastrophe, but not anymore. Now it felt like he’d had a
purpose all along. Like he’d been clearing dead wood to make a path to a
beautiful new place—a place she never wanted to leave.

Grace turned away and blinked tears from her eyes as she
took her time emptying the bag of groceries. By the time she’d finished, she
had her emotions in check and could sit across the table from Alec without letting
him know how affected she really was.

“So I’ve been thinking about giving skiing another try,”
Alec said as they ate.

All happy thoughts left Grace’s mind as her eyes flew to
her brother. “What did you say?”

Even though it had been ten years, the image was still
there, clear and crisp as ever. Alec’s broken and bruised body bent in a way a
body shouldn’t bend. Two strangers lifting him onto an ugly orange sled so a
snow machine could carry him down the mountain to a waiting ambulance. A doctor
who didn’t know Alec or understand how much he needed his legs pronouncing him
a paraplegic.

And now Alec wanted to give skiing another try.

“Seth was telling me about his heli-skiing trip and how they’ve
taken up paraplegics with sit skis. I guess they had a bunch of pictures of one
guy doing it. Anyway, it got me thinking, you know? Seth even did some research
and found a company not far away that could fit me to one.” Alec looked so
excited, so animated. His face was practically glowing. “I know the season’s
pretty much over, but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind giving me another try at
working out so I could be ready for next season. I could really use your help
getting my lazy butt back in shape.”

 The warm bite of French bread turned to pasty sawdust in
Grace’s mouth. She swallowed, forcing it down then quickly chasing it down with
some large gulps of water. How long had she ached to hear her brother say he wanted
to get his body back in shape? But not so he could go skiing again—especially
not
heli
-skiing. What had Seth been thinking to suggest that? He’d just
torn his ACL, for crying out loud, and now he wanted her brother to give it a
try?

This was all so wrong. So completely wrong. Evidently
Seth wasn’t content to leave her beautiful, new, and happy place alone. He had
to take his machete to it once more and ruin everything.

Once a wreaker of chaos, always a wreaker of chaos.

“Seth was also telling me about these wheelchair mountain
bikes they make,” Alec continued as if Grace’s world wasn’t caving in around
her. “They have four wheels so you have to find wide trails to take them on,
but they’re made specifically for paraplegics.”

Enough!
she wanted to scream.
I don’t want to
hear anymore.
What was Alec saying? Why would he want to risk becoming a
quadriplegic—or worse, die? Wasn’t paraplegia bad enough?

Grace suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

“So,” Alec prompted. “If I promise to be a better
patient, will you work out with me?”

Grace glanced at him, wanting to tell him that yes, she
would, but not so he could further injure himself. How could he expect her to
agree to that? But it had been too long since she’d seen the excitement in his
eyes, the happiness, the will to do something with his life. She refused to be
the one to crush it.

No, she’d leave that honor to the machete-carting Seth.

“Of course,” she said.

Cold and wet, Grace fisted her hand and pounded on the
door, wanting to knock it down, as well as the man on the inside of the
beautiful Craftsman style home. Darkness had fallen, and the pouring rain had not
only made it difficult to find his house, but had given her anger more time to
grow. Over and over, she banged, letting all of her frustration and fear unload
on the pristine, white wooden door.

The door flew open, revealing Seth’s surprised face. He
wore a snug-fitting t-shirt and jeans with bare feet sticking out beneath the
hems.

“Grace? What are you doing here?” he said. “Not that I’m
not happy to see you or anything—just totally surprised.”

Both of her hands clenched at her sides. “How could you!”
she said. “How could you bring my brother back from the dead only to send him
to an earlier burial! How could you!”

Seth’s hands rose slowly, as if to ward off her anger.
“Whoa, calm down, Grace. What are you talking about?”

“Heli-skiing? Really? You just tore your ACL, and you’re
telling my brother he should try heli-skiing? What were you thinking? Do you
have any idea how lucky you were to come away from that trip with only an ACL
tear? Do you have any idea how close Alec came to being a quadriplegic? Do you?
Because that could still happen, you know. Sit-skiing is still
dangerous—probably even more so than regular skiing. What were you thinking?”

“You said that already.” Seth let out a breath and leaned
against the doorjamb. He looked so unaffected and unrepentant that her fingers
itched to slap that look off his face.

She glared at him, hating him for not taking life more
seriously, for not valuing her brother’s life, and for wriggling his way into
her heart. Something inside her cracked, and tears started to sting the backs
of her eyes, making her hate him all the more.

“Finished?” he asked.

Grace looked away from him, feeling miserable. Yelling at
him was supposed to make her feel better. It was supposed to coerce a heartfelt
apology from him, accompanied by a promise to somehow stop her brother from
looking into sit skiing and mountain biking. What was wrong with wheelchair
basketball and coaching? What was wrong with going out to dinner and to the
movies like normal people?

Grace should have known Seth would be incapable of
stopping there. He couldn’t resist trying to bring everyone into his high-risk
world of extreme play—even her paraplegic brother. It had been useless to come
here, thinking she could convince him otherwise.

Before the tears gave way, Grace spun on her heel,
intending to run to her car. But a strong hand caught her arm. “Where do you
think you’re going? We haven’t even begun to talk about this.”

Grace pulled her arm away and frowned. “So talk already.
I’m done.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Seth said under his breath. Then
he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Would you like to come inside first? You’re
wet, and it’s more comfort—”

“No.”

“Okay, but I just got done with a workout, and my knee’s
aching, so I hope you don’t mind if I take a seat.” He plopped down on the step
right outside his door and straightened his injured leg. His hands clasped
around his bent leg as he looked up at her.

Grace folded her arms and took a step back. “Why did you
tell my brother he should try heli-skiing?”

“I didn’t,” Seth said. “He asked about my injury, and I
told him how it happened. He wondered whether any paraplegics had ever tried
it, and I told him that based on the pictures I’d seen in the company’s office,
several people had. I didn’t put the idea into his mind, he did.”

“And wheelchair mountain biking? Was that his idea as
well?”

Seth shook his head. “No, that was me. Mountain biking’s
kind of my thing, and I saw a guy doing the wheelchair version of it a few
years back, so I told your brother about it. Not because I wanted him to give
it a try or anything, more because I thought it was pretty cool.”

 “Cool?” Was he joking? “You think careening down a
rocky, uneven mountain on four wheels with only hand controls is cool? Are you
insane?” Evidently Seth had fallen off his bike one too many times and hit his
head hard.

Seth leaned forward and stood slowly, moving closer to
Grace. She took a step back, feeling rain on her face and nearly falling when her
foot found air instead of concrete. Seth’s hand reached out to steady her then he
tugged her closer, out of the rain. Her skin sizzled where his fingers gripped
her arm.

Seth’s eyes searched her face, so close that if he dipped
his head, he would be within kissing distance. She felt the warmth of his
breath, and her breath caught in her throat. He wouldn’t really kiss her, would
he? Not when she was feeling the urge to punch that rugged nose of his. Not
even Seth was that stupid. Her body stiffened, ready to shove him back if he
moved any closer.

“It
is
cool, Grace,” he finally said. “And so are
all the paraplegics I see pushing their way to the end of a marathon, competing
in the Paralympics, swimming, playing basketball, skiing, or not letting their
body keep them from doing whatever it is they happen to love. It’s incredibly
cool.”

 Fresh tears pricked at Grace’s eyes, but she refused to
let them fall. If they were talking about anyone else, this wouldn’t be an
argument. She’d be in full agreement. But when it came to Alec, the worst-case
scenario overshadowed the coolness factor big-time.

“Didn’t you see the look in Alec’s eye when he told you
about it?” Seth said. “The excitement? The spark?”

Grace nodded as a traitorous tear escaped, running down
her cheek. That was the worst part about it all. Before Alec’s accident, she’d
seen that spark many times—whenever he came up with some new adventure or
hare-brained idea for them to try. Which was also how Grace knew it wasn’t just
talk. Alec would follow through with everything—even the mountain biking.

“What if he gets hurt again?” Grace said. “What if his
diagnosis changes from paraplegia to quadriplegia? Or worse? What then?”

“That’s his choice to make—his risk to take.”

“You don’t get it.” Grace turned away from Seth and
dropped down on the top stair of his porch, too exhausted to stand any longer. Rain
dotted her jeans, but she didn’t care. “He wants me to start working out with
him so he can get in shape for this summer and next year’s ski season. But I
can’t do it. I can’t. I’ll blame myself if anything bad happens, and it will be
like high school all over again. I just don’t have it in me to do a repeat of
the last ten years. I don’t.”

Seth sat beside her and leaned forward enough to see her
face. “Are you telling me you blame yourself for his paraplegia?”

“Of course I do. It was my fault.” She stared out into
the dark and rainy night, focusing on the rippling reflections of the moon in
scattered puddles. Her surroundings should have felt soothing and peaceful, but
they weren’t. It felt more like an eerie and haunted forest.

“We grew up in Colorado and both loved to ski,” Grace
said. “But on the morning of March twenty-sixth, we woke up to twelve inches of
fresh powder in our yard, which meant even more snow in the mountains. My
parents agreed to let us go skiing, but Alec had a test coming up and didn’t
want to miss one of his classes. I was determined to go, though, and since he
didn’t want me going alone, he skipped school and came anyway.” The lump in
Grace’s throat seemed to grow larger as she relived that horrible day. “There
was a terrain park at the resort, and Alec loved trying new tricks off one of
the larger ramps. I cheered him on and dared him to do a back flip. When he
did, one of his skies caught on some snow. It threw him off balance, and he
landed on his back.”

Grace stared at the puddles as the plink, plink of
raindrops landed in them.
Talk about it, let it out
, a counselor had once
encouraged.
It’s the only way to move on
. So Grace had talked about it
with her counselor, her parents, and Alec. She’d cried and apologized over and
over and over again, and Alec had told her that it wasn’t her fault. It had
been his choice to go, his decision to try the back flip, his ski that had been
caught. But no matter how much she talked or how many people told her it was
only an accident, that heavy, horrible feeling of guilt would never leave. Even
now, ten years later, it felt heavier than ever.