Page 45 of Midnight and Mine

“It was more like a nightmare,” she chides with a sly smile. “Actually, I didn’t dream about you last night.”

I wink at my naturally beautiful wife. “But you are dreaming of me?”

“Your winks don’t work on me, Scotty.”

I press on the brake because she just called me Scotty. No one has called me Scotty in front of her since the accident. No one. My breath evens out, and she gives me a questioning glance. I decide not to address it; I just let her memories come, but I do respond, “Oh, they work, babe. Believe me.”

She giggles as we come to our street and when I pull in the driveway, she asks, “Is this our house?”

“It is. If it’s too soon, we can have lunch, but there are some things that need taken care of, and you’re the plant whisperer.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she says, “I can do this.”

“Wynter, no pressure.” I’ve taken down all the photos of us but left images of her photography.

Nancy brought Wynter a pair of crutches yesterday so she could start getting around on her own, so when I open the door, she carefully navigates each step. The heels of the crutches click against the pavement in half notes. One and two. One and two. Wynter sets a quick pace and looks over her shoulder. “Do we have an extra pair?”

“Of crutches? No.” She twists her lips while concentrating. “Why?” I already know what she wants, but I need to hear her say it.

“I thought we could race. Get on your knees.”

My mouth drops open as I glance around the neighborhood. “Babe, I’ll get on my knees for you any day of the week and twice on Sunday but outside… in the daylight?”

“You’re such a flirt. Have you always been this way?”

Moving around her, I place my hands on her shoulders, pressing against the aluminum. “With you.” I sweep my thumb over her bottom lip. “Yes.”

With a look of determination and her eyes trained on mine, she says, “You can kiss me if you beat me to the porch. On your knees, Scotty.”

I drop, loving this aspect of her personality.

She giggles. “Ready?Set. Go.”

Damn, the asphalt hurts my knees, so I crawl to the grass. Her hair gets caught in the breeze as her strength propels her forward, and I can’t keep up. When she wins, she leans against the porch column and raises one hand in victory. I crawl the rest of the way, stopping at her feet, then snake up her body.

“I think I deserve that kiss even though I lost.”

“Nope. You have to take advantage of the opportunities I give you.”

I kiss her on the cheek and unlock the door. Wandering through the bottom floor, she touches lamps, trails her fingers over tables, and is immediately drawn to the sunporch—her office.

“I love this room. It’s so open and natural.” She looks at each plant. “These need some TLC. Can you fill up a pitcher of water for me?”

When I return with the water, she’s sitting at her desk, picking off the dead leaves and branches of the spider plant. She feeds it water, then hands it to me to set back on the table. Then she checks the aloe plant, adding only a little water to it. Then we go outside, and she recognizes the hydrangeas.

“The flower you gave me was from our garden?” she asks, rewarding me with a luscious smile.

“Yeah. I wanted you to see for yourself how good you are with your hands.”

“So, you like my hands, huh?”

“Let’s just say they’re good at pulling.”

“Okay, Casanova. Do you have anything to do? I would love some time with my flowers… by myself.”

“I have calls to make to reschedule some appointments.”

“Scott, don’t reschedule stuff for me. You need to get back to your life.”