I turned my attention back to the crap I was doing for my introduction to managerial accounting course, and forced myself to finish what I had been working on.
“Knock, knock.” The door to my bedroom swung open an hour later. Dawson poked his head into my room, while his body remained shielded behind my door.
“Hey,” I muttered. A yawn escaped me. I closed my laptop and rubbed my eyes.
“How’s it going?”
“Okay.” I stretched my legs out in front of me, trying not to wince from how stiff they felt. “I think I’m done for the night.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Actually, I should be thanking you for the interruption. You saved me from a hellacious headache.” The beginning of one was pulsing above my right brow.
“Good.” A sad smile broke onto his face. “At least I know I’m good for something.”
I hated the sad and defeated look on his face. “Why do you say that?” I knew why. I remembered the bits of his and Emma’s conversation I’d overheard.
“Because I’m failing when it comes to getting your sister through this.” His hand left my door to run through his hair. The door swung open, revealing the rest of him. His cargo shorts and plain gray T-shirt made him look so laid-back, but I knew he was wound tight. We both were. Seeing Emma bitter and angry was not something either of us were used to.
“No, you’re not.” I shook my head, and slipped off my bed to move toward him. “You’re doing the best you can. She’s in a really bad spot right now. The doctors said it could take a while, remember?”
He released a long exhale and brought his blue eyes to meet mine. There was hope swirling in them. I was so grateful to be the one who had put it there again. “You’re right.” He flashed me a small smile. “You didn’t have to stay in here. You were more than welcome to join us, you know.”
“I know. I just figured the two of you would appreciate a little time alone together.”
“We did. Sort of.” His face fell again.
“Things will get better.” The words sounded stale in my mouth. I’d said them too many times, to both him and myself. I wasn’t even sure I believed them anymore.
Something passed over Dawson’s face, making me wonder if he felt the same. “Listen, I wasn’t sure if you ate yet, so I made you a plate in the kitchen. There’s also beer. If you want one.” He surprised me by saying.
“I already ate, but a beer sounds nice. Thanks.”
“Mind if I stay for a bit, and have one with you?”
“No, not at all.” Tension pulled at my insides as the moment became awkward. “Where’s Emma?”
“She went to bed. Said she was tired.”
“Oh. Okay.” The desire to make sure she was all right flared deep within me, but I fought it, knowing nothing I could say would make Emma feel better. If she was pissed at Dawson, she would prefer to stew alone. She’d made that clear before.
“So, how about that beer?” Dawson rocked on his heels, and crammed his hands into his front pockets. “I could use one right about now.”
I laughed. “Me too.”
“After you.” He motioned for me to move past him into the hall.
“Thanks.” I flipped my bedroom light off as I slipped by him. Unable to help it, I glanced at my sister’s door. It was closed, and there didn’t seem to be any lights on. I would have to talk to her tomorrow. See what she said about the dinner date. Maybe I would mention what I heard.
Once we reached the kitchen, I headed straight for the fridge. I pulled the door open and grabbed two beers. They were just my type, dark and full-flavored. I handed one to Dawson. “Wanna sit on the bench by the fire pit?” I asked as I popped the top off mine. I didn’t want Emma to hear us talking, in case the conversation shifted to her and how worried we were about her.
“Sure.”
I gripped the handle to the back door, and carefully opened it without making much noise. Again, I felt like I was sneaking out of my house, fearful Mom would catch me. My heart thundered in my chest, because this time I was sneaking out with Dawson tagging along, and beer. All the sudden I felt as though I was doing something wrong. Would Emma be pissed at me for this? Friends. That was all Dawson and I were. She couldn’t be mad at that. Right? We were two friends having a drink while talking about her. Crap. Maybe this wasn’t right.
“Has she been pushing you away lately?” Dawson asked. I knew where his question was going.
“A little,” I admitted as I stepped outside, and started toward the fire pit. The night was cool, which was rare for this late into July. Lightning bugs were already out. The sight of them had memories of chasing them with Emma when we were little flashing through my mind.
“Me too.” Dawson sat on the edge of the bench, leaving loads of space for me. I was glad. It made this situation feel less wrong if there was an ample amount of space between us. I sat, and the bench didn’t seem as long as I remembered.
“She’ll come back around. Her doctors are sure of it.” It was all I knew to say.
“Are you though?” Dawson’s eyes narrowed on me. I could see my pain and heartache reflected in his stare. “Because I’m not sure I am.”
“I don’t know.” I tipped my beer up and took a swig, unsure I could handle having this conversation.
“I keep waiting for her to snap.” He leaned forward, until his elbows were resting against his knees, cupping his beer between his palms. “I don’t know how she hasn’t yet.”
“Me either.” It felt like a relief to say the words out loud. I would have freaked out the moment I learned what had happened.
“Has she mentioned how she feels being in a wheelchair now?” His question threw me off.
“Not really. I mean, I know it’s frustrating for her having to learn new ways to do things that used to come easy for her before.”
“I mean future things, not just the right now stuff.”
I blinked, unsure as to what he was talking about. “What future things?”
His gaze dropped to the beer bottle in his hands. I watched him, waiting for him to continue, as he flicked the peeling label with his thumb. “Driving, walking, kids…future stuff like that.”
“No.”
“Well, she did tonight. Apparently, she’s worried she might not be able to have kids. She hasn’t asked the doctors yet. There’s a shit ton of things she’s worried about actually.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Everything I thought and felt about the situation involving my sister and the accident changed. Suddenly, things clicked for me. I’d been stupidly trying to help her through the day-to-day tasks, not realizing that wasn’t where my sister’s mind was. It was on the future, thinking of all the things she had always hoped and dreamed of for herself before she became an L 1, 2 paraplegic.
“Emma really wanted to be a mom.” My words were strangled as they left my throat.
“I know.” Dawson sounded as upset about it as I did.
We fell into silence as both of us thought about how great a mom Emma would be while we sipped our beers.
“What do you think?” I asked once I couldn’t handle the silence any longer. “Do you think she’ll still be able to have kids?” I was hoping for a smidge of assurance from him.
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
My insides felt crushed by his words; my thoughts darkened. I took another sip of my beer, thinking of Emma and how badly I knew she wanted to be a mother.
“She can’t feel much of anything from her belly button down. Did you know that?” Dawson interrupted my thoughts. “She told me the feeling fades from there down.”