20. Cecelia
Ismoothed down the front of my clothes and confirmed I didn’t have any crumbs or anything on my shirt. Making a quick mental inventory, I confirmed I had the new client’s file with me, a pad of paper, several pens, and a file folder full of resource pamphlets of services I would be recommending.
I stood on the front stoop, inhaled through my nose, and let the breath out on a long, slow exhale before I rang the doorbell.
The door opened immediately. I felt a tickle in my gut and brain. They had probably been waiting for me and watched as I mentally prepared myself. Next time, I needed to remember to do all of that breathing and inventory check in the car, not at the front door.
“Are you the woman from the agency?” a middle-aged man asked.
“Is that Miss Harrison?” another voice called from somewhere inside the home.
“Uh, yes to both,” I said with a nervous smile. Showing up at random people’s homes before I even knew who anybody was made me nervous. When I had arrived at Sterling’s apartment, my nerves had made me cranky and a little bit rude. I didn’t want to do that again.
I wasn’t here to boss this family around. They needed help.
“Come on in.” The man took a step back and welcomed me into their home.
It was a small, cozy home. These were people who worked for a living. They were not heirs to a rich family or CEOs of corporations.
“Thank you so much for coming.” A weary looking woman came up to me and took my hand, shaking it. It felt more like she was clutching me for support than welcoming me into their home. “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Oscar.”
I nodded and smiled. I hesitated because it didn’t seem right to say ‘pleasure’ when it came to meeting them. After all, the circumstances were tragic. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Cecelia. How is your son Hector today?” I wanted to meet him. But if he was having a tiring or difficult day, meeting me could be too much.
“He’s asleep right now. If he wakes, would you like to meet him?” Lucille asked.
“I would. But only if he is up to meeting me. I understand he hasn’t been home for more than a week. It’s all an adjustment, and I wouldn’t want to stress him out.”
Oscar let out a shaky breath. “Thank you. Ever since he’s been home, it feels like everyone wants to come pay him a visit. At the Children’s Hospital, he was limited to only family, and only who we said. But we don’t have that buffer here anymore. Saying no to visitors who just pop in is exhausting. He only has a couple of good hours a day in him right now.”
I nodded. The poor kid. He had been hit by a delivery truck. His neck and back were broken, along with one leg and arm. He suffered many other injuries, but the hardest, the one that he would never recover from, was the damage to his spine that left him partially paralyzed from the neck down and fully paralyzed in his legs.
“I don’t want to add to his burden in any way. As a matter of fact, I’m here to make sure you are getting your support needs met.”
“The company sent over a rep, and they helped us get the medical equipment. They’re paying for everything,” Lucille said.
“They don’t want us to sue them for millions,” Oscar added.
My brows went up, and I looked from one to the other. I shouldn’t ask, but my curiosity was piqued. The notes in their case file indicated there was a suit filed by the insurance company, but I didn’t see anything about a personal lawsuit.
“We’re in mediation,” Lucille said. “Money won’t give my little boy his legs back, but they were responsible. They need to take care of him.”
I nodded as if I understood. I would take note of it for the case file. I had no idea which party had contacted my agency, so I needed to be objectionable.
“Could I take a quick look at Hector’s room? I don’t want to disturb him, I just want to see what kind of equipment you have in place. I might have some ideas about what else you’ll find helpful. And then we can sit down and go over what areas you are having difficulty navigating.”
I followed Lucille down a small hall. She opened a door to a room that hummed with equipment. In the middle of a huge medical bed and a wall of motoring equipment was a small child. He couldn’t have been more than five or six. Next to him was a stuffed tiger toy. It looked well-loved and worn. My heart clenched and my breath caught in my throat.
Hector was barely seven, and he looked small for his age. Or maybe he simply looked small because of the scale of all the equipment around him. I made note of the oxygen tank and regulators. Meters and monitors. There were plenty of tubes and leads. An electric wheelchair sat to the side, still in plastic wrapping and with information tags on the handlebars.
I nodded my thanks, and she closed the door. I followed her back down the hall and into her kitchen. She looked years older than I knew her to be when we sat down around the kitchen table. I pulled out the file folder with all of the pamphlets and brochures.
“I think the first thing you are going to have to request is an appropriate passenger van, fully equipped to help you get Hector to and from appointments.” I found the van brochure and handed it across the table.
I was there for hours. I didn’t bother stopping off at the office to write up my notes. I went straight home. I thought I was going to collapse. I dragged my feet up the steps. It felt like an impossible task. That’s what I got for having an apartment on the second floor of a walk-up, no elevators, no choice. Somehow, I managed to get the front door open. I think I closed it before I dropped everything I carried to the floor and staggered to the couch.
Gasping for breath, the tears came, and I started sobbing. I didn’t realize I needed to cry. I had felt tired, exhausted beyond reason. Apparently, that meant I needed to let all of my emotions out.
I clutched a throw pillow to my chest and curled in on myself. I gasped for breath and wailed.
I cried because I was so tired I couldn’t carry on. I cried for that beautiful child now trapped in his little, broken body. His mind was there, and he was smart, but all of the possibilities of his life had been taken from him. I felt anguish for his family and the struggle they now had. Their bright, joyful son would never be able to run and jump. Eventually, he would learn to play, and his parents would get used to the routine that now made up his life. I cried for the fear and hopelessness I saw in his mother’s eyes and the anger I saw in his father’s.
I sobbed out all the self-pity I had because I had been reassigned. I didn’t understand why Greta couldn’t have given me a second assignment if the agency needed to limit the time I spend with Sterling and Georgie? Why did they have to take them away from me?
Because I was growing too attached. And I cried because I had grown very attached, and I missed them. I missed Georgie’s wide open-mouthed smile as she learned to control her face. I missed her little grabby hands, and I missed Sterling.
There was no possible way that the agency knew I slept with him. They couldn’t. As my feeling of stupidity dragged me back down, I cried even more. I couldn’t believe I was such an idiot.
I had slept with Sterling. A client! That was the worst. So dumb, so incredibly dumb. And so incredibly amazing. Part of me knew it had been worth it, just so that I had something to remember when I was old and lonely. A beautiful man had made me feel like I was his every desire.
And of course, that had me crying even more. Of course, Sterling made me feel amazing. He was good. That was experienced and skilled and had nothing to do with anything between us. Because there wasn”t anything between us. He was my client.
But he and Georgie didn’t feel like clients. They weren’t some problem for me to solve. When I was with them, I felt like I belonged. They felt like family.
With a groan, I rolled off the couch. I hit the floor with a jolt. I needed to knock some sense into my head. I cried to the point of swollen eyes, and my sinuses were closed from swelling and snot. I staggered through my small apartment and into the bathroom.
I selected a shower scent bath fizzy, eucalyptus and lavender. It would bubble up and fill the air with a calming smell that should also open my air passages. I turned the shower on, scalding hot, and stripped down.
I couldn’t wash away the failures of my day, but the heat felt good to my aching heart and sore muscles. It had been an emotionally long day. All I wanted was to be comfortable and fed. After the shower, I pulled on leggings that felt like a hug and an oversized long-sleeved T-shirt. My hair stayed wrapped up in the towel.
The weather outside was nice, maybe even warm, but I needed the weight and comfort of a blanket. I curled up on the couch and turned the television on. Eventually, I might want something to eat, but for now, I needed something to take my mind away from all the mistakes I had been making. I needed to focus on someone else’s problems.