CHAPTER 20 LOVE IS BLINDNESS
LOVE IS BLINDNESS
Veronica
Veronica Walker knew something was amiss. She’d witnessed Phoenix’s grief, his denial, anger and sadness. She’d also seen him pull out of it with resilience that astonished her, faster even than she was able to stop grieving for the son that had been.
She repeated the words she had heard come readily from the rehab staff. “Prostheses are amazing now. You’re lucky to have both knees and elbows. You’ll be able to try whatever you want.”
Maybe the encouragements helped. Or maybe it was the same stubborn determination that got him through grad school, pushed him in sports and led him to risk entrepreneurial pursuits despite everyone’s warnings.
Today his silence alarmed her. He refused every activity she suggested. Shopping? Restaurant? Stroll around the park? No, no, and no.
“It’s good news that you’ll be discharged and ready for outpatient rehab in just another week,” she said, trying again to make conversation.
“That’s good. You can go then, you know,” Phoenix said, striking his now familiar refrain.
“Son, there’s nowhere I’d rather be,” Veronica said firmly, kissing him on the cheek before he could turn away.
“I don’t need you.”
“I know. You don’t need anyone. It’s not need. I want to be here.”
“Well, at least go sleep at my place. You don’t need to stay here on that cot anymore.” Nighttime had gotten easier. Phoenix was no longer waking too hot or too cold or frantic with bad dreams.
Leveraging the rare instance in which they agreed, she broached a new topic.
“So, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I hurt, Mom,” he said simply.
Her gut clenched. She looked him all over, seeking signs of fluid buildup at the wound sites or some other discomfort. She suspected pain was a constant, dulled with narcotics, but not eliminated.
“More than usual?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted.
“Is there something else?” she asked, tugging the sheet straight in an attempt to do something, anything, for this independent son who wanted no help from her.
With fury she didn’t expect, he punched the mattress with his hand. “I’m missing half my limbs, Mom. Does there need to be something else?”
She stared at the desperation lining his face. The emotions she’d held in check nearly caved.
“What am I going to do when I’m not being coddled in rehab?” he demanded.
She’d had the same worries, especially in the early days before he’d woken. But he’d moved past the useless what-if’s.
“Honey, no one’s coddling you. And you’re going to do whatever you want. You’ll go back to your place, back to work.”
“And then what?” he growled, “Who’s going to want me?”
So, this is it.
His pain pained her. She tested his prickly edges.
“What about your co-worker who was maybe more than a friend?”
“You mean Orchid? I talked to her. Last week. She’s back from China.”
Veronica studied her son’s blue eyes and dark hair as he lay back on his pillows.
If she squinted a little, she could almost see hints of the little boy she had raised.
She pictured the photo she’d seen on his phone.
Her boys had dated all types, from perky to moody, sports-jocks to artists, raucous rebels to refined debutantes.
Orchid was a stunner. The two of them, squeezed into one frame, looked like they were having fun.
She asked, hopefulness evident in the upward lilt in her tone, “So? Is she coming to visit?”
“Nope, we’re not talking anymore.”
“What happened?”
“She’s not one to deal well with imperfections.”
“You don’t mean she didn’t want to see you because—”
“It wasn’t her. It was me, but c’mon, Mom. I’m half a guy. What woman is going to want me?”
She could barely listen to his words. Blood rushed in her ears. “I can’t believe anyone would be as shallow as that.”
Bile rose in her throat. In that moment, she couldn’t think of another person she hated more than Orchid. “You are an amazing man. Any woman would be blind not to see that.”
“There’s the solution, Mom. Maybe she needs a blindfold.”