~*~
The day Tommy got released from the hospital, an orderly pushed his wheelchair out to the curb, and Lawson helped him into the passenger seat of his car; stowed the walker in the trunk and gave the orderly (amused but cooperative) an enthusiastic fist-bump on the way to the driver’s side.
Tommy sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank God. I’m so glad to be out of there.”
“At least for two weeks. Then we gotta go back and get your bag thing reversed.”
“Ugh. Don’t talk about my bag.”
“I love your bag. It saved your life.”
“Dr. Patelsaved my life, and I’d really like to not talk anymore about the bag of shit strapped to my leg.”
Lawson laughed, and turned on the radio for the rest of the trip.
There was no Town Car following them, no security detail. Just the two of them and The Cult on the classic rock station.
At least until Lawson turned into the driveway, and they drove through an arch of balloons, and he saw Dana, and Mom, and Leo, and even Dad waiting in the driveway, all of them wearing inexplicable birthday hats and holding noisemakers.
“They didn’t have welcome home hats,” Dana explained, snapping one onto Lawson’s head as he climbed out of the car. “So birthday it is.”
She hung back and let Lawson get the walker, and then help Tommy up to his feet so that he was standing beside the car, holding onto the walker’s handles. Then she stepped in and, much more carefully than she had with Lawson, settled a hat on Tommy’s fluffy hair and delicately tucked the elastic band under his chin.
Tommy smiled, small and bashful, and reached up to adjust it, his new ring gleaming in the sunlight. He was pale and stubbled, and still sickly and shaking, just a little, and he was the most beautiful thing Lawson had ever seen.
“Welcome home, Tommy!” everyone shouted in rehearsed unison, and Dana blew hard on her noisemaker.
Lawson caught his new husband’s gaze and said, “Welcome home.”
Tommy nodded, and his throat jerked as he swallowed, and his voice was choked when he said, “I’m glad to be here.”
~*~
“Leave those,” Dana says as Lawson gathers empty plastic cups from a table. “I’ll get them in a little bit.”
“You’ve already got your hands full,” he points out. “I’ve got these.”
“Yeah, but your date is wilting.” When he glances up at her, she nods across the room, and Lawson turns to see Tommy seated at one of the empty, cluttered tables, both hands resting on top of his cane where it’s planted between his feet, elbow hooked on the table edge for support.
“I’ll clean up,” Dana says, and adds, “Some of the girls went up to their rooms to change and are gonna come back down and help me. You take care of your man.”
Lawson finds it hard to argue withthat.
Movement over by the patio doors catches his attention, and he sees Leo there, wringing his hands, weight shifting side-to-side.
The party’s over. This is it. “Okay,” Lawson agrees, smiling, “but only if you go take care ofyourman.”
She frowns. “What?”
He lifts his chin toward the doors. “I think Leo wants to talk to you alone for a minute.”
“What…” Her eyes widen.
Lawson drops a kiss on her forehead. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she says, dazedly, and turns to walk toward Leo.
Lawson makes his way over to Tommy and offers a gallant hand. “What do you say, Cinderella?”