Page 87 of A Me and You Thing
He can barely walk without his cane, and Walter can barely breathe, so I doubt they can be my superheroes. But I love that they want to be. I wish they could’ve been there and kept me safe. I needed them. The thought of them facing off withTíaandTíosort of makes me want to laugh. A stress laugh, but a laugh all the same.
But no laughter escapes. I’m not there yet. The experience is still too raw. I think it always will be.
“Terrible people, such terrible people,” Claire mumbles.
I don’t want to talk aboutTíaandTío. Or think about them or give them the time of day. They don’t deserve it. I love my family for being on my side, but I want the entire experience in my rearview mirror. I know everyone is going to make metalkabout it in the future, to get it out of my system and work through my feelings. But right now, I can’t handle it. More than anything I just want to forget it ever happened.
I want to feel normal. Be normal. I crave normal.
“She’s just so beautiful, isn’t she?” Mom says, not even trying to hide her tears.
Dad shakes his head in agreement. “Our beautiful little girl, all grown up.”
It’s happening again. Everyone is talking about me as if I’m not in the room.
Claire brings her hands to her cheeks. “Look at all that blond hair. It’s so long now. I love it that long, don’t you, Charlotte?”
“I do, Claire. I think she should keep it that length.”
“Her color is coming back too. Look at those rosy cheeks.” Claire slaps Walter’s thigh, making him jump. “She just needs a little meat on her bones. All her curves will come back when she gains a little weight.”
I close my eyes and pretend they can’t see me. If it works for an ostrich...
“You know she can hear you, right?” Walter grumbles.
I’ve always loved Sawyer’s dad.
I love all of them dearly. But this is decidedly uncomfortable. “Every word. I still have my hearing.”
They laugh as though I’m very clever and just said something hilariously funny.
Sawyer is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his eyes watching me with his intense expression, the one that has hardly left his face since I returned. He doesn’t join in their laughter. Instead, he scrubs his face with his hands.
It dawns on me that I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s become an enigma to me.
And I don’t like it. Not one bit.
“The doctor says Quinn will make a complete recovery,” Sawyer comments, his eyes on me.
I’ve never felt more grateful for a subject change. It’s still all about me, but safer ground.
A chorus ofthank goodnessandso happyecho around the room. Then the smiling, teary faces continue to stare at me as though I’m a specimen under a microscope. I want to pull my covers over my head. Or get dressed as planned and go downstairs to the living room. Anything but this. I feel a thousand times more vulnerable lying in bed. I’m like a display at the zoo.View me in my natural habitat. This is her sleeping quarters...
I silently plead with Sawyer. He gets the message. “Why don’t I get the girls? I know you’d like to see them.” His voice is quiet, subdued, as he sends me an apologetic glance.
My mom claps her hands. “Great idea. The girls need their mother.”
They enter the room with Sawyer and climb onto the bed.
“Say hi to Mommy,” Claire tells them.
They both whisperHi, Mommyin their tiny voices, making my heart soar. When they warm up, they jump on the bed as though they’re on a trampoline. We laugh at their antics. I’ve never seen them so animated. My mother’s heart takes it all in and memorizes every detail. They take the attention away from me and make the visit bearable—even the happiest moment since I’ve been home.
In the end, they sit down with me, one tucked in each arm, the way they used to. No coaxing needed. They seem content to stay. I’m ecstatic to be surrounded by my family, by love.
“Such a beautiful sight,” Claire mutters, again wiping at her eyes.
Mom agrees. “She’s right where she should be.”
