29. Ellie
Chapter twenty-nine
Ellie
The sun was barely over the horizon the next morning, but Hunter and I were both up ready for the hospital to open to visitors.
We’ve got to see Asher. Obviously, he’s Hunter’s brother, but he and I have always had a sort of bond.
Going through school together, and having families who are rarely apart, will do that.
Of the three Dawson boys, Asher always felt most like a brother to me.
Hunter was always something “other” that I struggled to define. Brother-like? Yes. Protector? For sure. But there was always something else that I didn’t quite understand.
Asher, though, was brother through and through, and when Hunter told me what had happened … I’d never known fear like that. At least not for someone else.
Now we’re standing outside his room and I feel rooted to the floor, afraid of what we might see.
“You okay?” Hunter says, taking my hand.
I swallow and nod. “You?”
“We’ll see once we get in there.” We know he’s going to be fine. We woke to find a message from Hunter’s mom that the doctor assured them with his age and previous health, he would make a full recovery. With time, and rehab. But we don’t know what we’re walking into this morning.
Hunter opens the door, and my eyes fill with tears. I blink them away because the last thing Asher needs is me breaking down about his sad state. His head is bandaged in a turban-looking contraption and there’s swelling around his right eye. He looks at us through drooping lids.
“Hey, man,” Hunter says.
“Hey, Ash.” I paste a smile on my face.
He blinks back at us. He looks exhausted. I hope we didn’t wake him.
I sink down into the chair by his bed. My back is killing me.
My due date is tomorrow and there is no space left for this baby.
I definitely aced eating all the calories this past week.
I feel like she’s expanding into every part of me, and I’m so ready not to be pregnant anymore.
Though, I’m glad to be able to be here for Ash.
He closes his eyes again, and I look over at Hunter who’s staring at his brother in concern.
“How do you like my hat?” His voice is gruff, and his eyes are still closed, but it’s such a relief to hear Asher’s voice.
And his sad attempt at humor. There are tubes running out from under his bandages for drainage.
I swallow, trying to clear the nausea that’s creeping up as I think about this whole situation.
“It’s very stylish,” I say, reaching over and taking his hand.
“Good.”
That’s all he says, before he is obviously asleep again. Hunter and I sit with him for half an hour or so until Rachel and Alvin, Hunter’s parents, join. We visit with them a minute before leaving them in the small room with their son, agreeing to take a shift sitting with him tonight.
We won’t let Asher be alone in this.
A few days later, Asher, while not back to normal, is doing extremely well.
The doctor is pleased with his progress and says he’ll likely move into a rehab facility in the next few days.
We visit him every day, with the family taking shifts so that he’s never alone.
Yesterday, we brought a couple of board games to play with him.
He can only seem to focus for short periods, but the doctor said that’s normal.
Oh, and I’m still very much pregnant. My due date came and went like it was no big deal.
“Are you sure about this?” Hunter asks, putting the truck in park.
We’re sitting outside the Honeycrisp Acres event venue where the town’s annual Christmas dance is being held. I try my best to go every year, and since I’m not home with a newborn like I assumed I’d be, we’re here.
“I’m sure. I’m gonna dance the baby out.”
He eyes me like he’s still not quite sure. “Alright.”
He hustles around the truck and practically lifts me down from my seat. He’s likely gotten stronger in the past month.
I cling to his arm and look down at my ridiculous outfit as we make our way inside. The only thing remotely semi-formal I could get into was my wedding dress—which wouldn’t zip—and I layered it with a festive red silk poncho I took from my mom’s closet. I feel very much like a snowman.
We enter the space and the event is well underway. The twinkling lights and greenery make me smile. I love seeing people dressed up, many people wear the same outfits year after year, but still I love seeing it. And you never know what Crazy Tom will wear.
We spot Raquel and Henry right away. Raquel is wearing a gorgeous green plaid tartan dress and Henry’s even wearing a matching tartan tie.
“That’s it,” I say to Hunter. “Next year, we’re matching.”
Hunter gazes down at me, his smile soft and sweet. “Next year, huh?”
“Mmhmm.”
His eyes flick down at my lips and for a moment, I think Hunter may kiss me in the middle of this Christmas dance. And I realize with a sudden urgency that I desperately want him to.
That is until Crazy Tom waltzes up to us in a full astronaut getup. One of those bubble helmets included, with the visor flipped up.
“Happy Christmas,” he says with a British accent and a salute to Hunter. I barely hold back a laugh as Hunter tries to decide how to respond to Tom—but never gets the chance because as quickly as he came, Tom is gone.
“Well then,” Hunter says with a little laugh, staring off in the direction the astronaut went. “Do you want a drink?” Hunter’s wearing a dark gray suit, and man alive if he’s not the best-looking man in the room.
“No. I just wanna dance.” I look down in the general direction of my feet—I haven’t seen them in weeks. “Until my feet wear out or I’m in labor.”
“Okay, beautiful. Let’s dance.”
I roll my eyes. “Hunter, I look like a snowman.”
“Prettiest snowman I’ve ever seen.” He steps close, and tucks a stray curl behind my ear, then cups my face and kisses my forehead. It was so sweet and tender, and didn’t feel performative in the least.
He takes my hand and we walk onto the dance floor. While we’re surrounded by friends and neighbors, it feels like it’s just us when he pulls me close and starts to sway. He holds me like he’ll never let me go, and it fills me with a sense of peace I didn’t know was possible.
A local bluegrass band, The Lightening Bugs, start singing their version of God Bless the Broken Road.
The lyrics wind their way into my heart until it feels like the song has become a part of me—it is me.
I tuck myself closer to Hunter, reveling in the strength of his arms around me.
I can’t help but think of all the painful moments with Dylan as a northern star that brought me right here—to Hunter.
I angle my head so Hunter can hear me. “I want you to adopt Sweetpea,” I say, pressing up onto my tiptoes. “I want you to be her dad in every way because I know there’s no one better for the job.”
His hands flex around my waist, clutching me tighter. I look up and see a tear trailing down from the corner of Hunter’s eye.
“It would be an absolute honor to be Sweetpea’s dad.” His voice is rough with emotion. “I’ll call a lawyer on Monday. Thank you, Ells,” he says as if I’m doing him a favor instead of the other way around.
Hunter kisses my cheek and holds me closer. The music washes over us and as we sway back and forth, I think of how God truly blessed this broken road that got us here.
“Hunter?”
“Yeah, Ells?”
“I have to pee.”