Finally Home Page 6

  She slid off the stool at the side of the tub and reached for the towel hanging on the back of his wheelchair. He boosted himself out of the water and allowed her to help him lift one leg over the edge of the steel tub. But somewhere in the process of the transfer, she lost her balance. Rather than risk him falling, she leaned into the tub and guided his leg back into the water.

  But instead of letting lose, he clung to her. Feeling unaccountably brave, he pulled her toward him.

  “Brian!” She braced one knee against the side of the stainless steel tub and battled to stay on her feet.

  He saw to it that it was a losing battle.

  Giggling, she listed dangerously toward the tub. “You crazy man! Stop it! You’re going to make me fall in!” Her laughter started as the familiar teasing kind they’d shared almost from the beginning. But then her eyes met his and a nervous tremor crept into her voice.

  His teasing had turned to something more. Something serious and bold. He knew it, and he didn’t care. He’d held back as long as he could, keeping his true feelings for her hidden behind their playful banter. He was tired of pretending he didn’t have feelings for her. With one arm around her waist, he pulled her closer still.

  “Brian! Cut it out.” She tugged against him, but he was sweetly familiar with her physical strength and it was apparent she wasn’t trying very hard to get away.

  But when he reached for her with his other arm, the water buoyed him and he lost his balance. Flopping back into the tepid water like a marooned mackerel, he clutched for the side of the tub. He snagged her long hair, and his fingers got tangled in its silky threads.

  “Ow! Ouch!” She bent at the waist and hopping on one foot, dipped her head toward him, trying to disentangle herself.

  She finally managed to yank her hair loose, but apparently the floor was wet from all their splashing. She slipped, letting out a piercing squeal on her way down.

  Somehow, she ended up on his lap in the water, her feet and legs hanging out of the tub, lopped over the side like a limp beach towel.

  She floundered, trying to get out, and he tried to assist her. But the harder they tried to right each other, the more water sloshed out of the tub and the harder they laughed.

  All at once—and he honestly wasn’t sure exactly how it happened—Kathy had her arms around his neck and he had his arms around her waist. They were so close he could smell the peppermint gum on her breath and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to just kiss her and get it over with.

  Looking her in the eye, he leaned forward. She met him halfway and kissed him back exactly the way he’d imagined in his dreams. For one minute he hoped the doctors would prescribe years and years of this particular brand of physical therapy.

  “What in the world is going on?”

  At the bark of his father’s voice, Brian let go of her, put his hands on the sides of the tub and heaved himself up in the water. His effort pushed Kathy high enough to slide over the edge and land feet-first on the floor. She stood there sputtering and stammering, dripping water all over the expensive tile floor.

  Brian put both arms over the back of the tub and straightened to the closest thing he could call standing at attention. “Dad. Hi. Um…this is Kathy—Kathryn Nowlin.”

  His father looked from Kathy to him and back again. “This is…?” He shook his head, a look of derision defining his sharp features. “Well, that explains a lot. Your…services will not be required any longer, Miss Nowlin. You can gather your things and—”

  “No, Dad. Wait… I can explain.” Brian was desperate to defend Kathy. She’d done nothing wrong. This was all his fault.

  “That, I’ll be interested to hear.”

  A door slammed out in the entrance hall, followed by his mother’s cheery voice. “Jerry? Brian? Where is everybody?”

  Great. He might have a prayer of explaining the whole fiasco to his father, but Mom was another matter altogether.

  Apparently his father had the same thoughts. “Get this mess cleaned up,” he snapped at Brian. He didn’t even give Kathy the dignity of a glance.

  “Yes, sir.” Yeah, right. As if he could just hop out of the tub and start mopping things up.

  “I’ll try to head off your mother, but you’d better come up with something.”

  Kathy yanked the soggy towel from the back of his chair and came at him with towel outspread and a panic-stricken expression on her pretty face.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay. His bark is worse than his bite.”

  “That’s not what you were saying half an hour ago.”

  She had him there. “It’ll be okay.” He put his hands under his right thigh, trying to lift his leg over the side. “Here…give me a hand, will you?”

  She jumped to help him. But a minute later, when he was safely in his chair drying off, he was surprised to see tears spring to her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Brian. I don’t know what I was thinking.” The furrows in her forehead deepened.

  He touched her arm. “Cut it out! It wasn’t you, Kath. I take full responsibility.”

  She hung her head, shaking it slowly like someone coming out of a trance. “I…I don’t even know how we…how that happened.” She looked back toward the tub as if it were the scene of an accident.

  He smiled. “Um…I’ll explain it to you later. Right now I think the best thing would be to mop up this floor. If you think my dad is a dragon, you haven’t seen my mother in the face of buckling tile.”

  Kathy grabbed another towel from the pile on the stool in the corner and sopped up the water puddling on the tiles as if her life depended on it.

  He laughed. “I’m kidding. Well, exaggerating anyway…”

  That coaxed a timid smile out of her. “Maybe,” she said. “But I’m not taking any chances.”

  Chapter 10

  Kathy was on her hands and knees blotting up water from around the base of the whirlpool tub when Brian’s parents came through the door. She scrambled to her feet and tried in vain to keep her soaking wet jeans from dripping on the floor under her bare feet.

  Brian gave her a conspiratorial wink before making formal introductions. “Dad, you’ve met Kathy. Mom, this is Kathryn Nowlin, my physical therapist.”

  Kathy could almost hear him thinking, emphasis on the physical. She curbed a nervous smile, not daring to meet Brian’s eyes, and reached a hand out to Madeleine Lowe.

  Brian obviously got his good looks from his mother, but it was a bit disconcerting that Madeleine Lowe didn’t look a day over thirty-five. Her black hair was teased into a bouffant, her makeup was flawless, and she wore a sleek pantsuit that hugged her trim figure. No matter how she tried, Kathy had a hard time envisioning this woman wearing a carpenter’s apron and wielding a hammer in the Colombian rainforest.

  Mrs. Lowe took Kathy’s hand, but her smile faded when her gaze landed on the soggy clothes. She extricated her hand from Kathy’s and took a step backward, putting a hand to her throat. “What on earth happened?”

  Brian wheeled his chair closer. “Mom… We sort of…um…had a water fight. Everything’s fine now.”

  Jerald Lowe put a hand on his wife’s back and leveled his gaze at Kathy. “I think you can go now, Miss Nowlin. Have your bill sent to me here at the house.”

  “Mr. Lowe, I—”

  “That will be all.”

  “Dad. Stop it.”

  Mrs. Lowe looked from her son to her husband. “What is going on? Jerry?”

  “I’ll explain later.” He turned back to Kathy, crossing his arms over his chest. “Miss Nowlin?”

  Her spirits plummeted. He was serious. He was firing her.

  Brian grabbed the handrims and wheeled his chair forward, positioning himself between her and his parents. He set the brake and looked up at his father. “This is my fault. Don’t blame Kathy. She’s done an incredible job. You may not realize it, Dad, but I’ve made a lot of progress and—”

  “He has,” Kathy said. “He’
s getting stronger every day. His knees are healing, and he’s learning to use other muscles to compensate for—”

  “I said that will be all.” Jerald Lowe leveled a callous gaze at her.

  Brian flipped the brake off and popped the front wheels of his chair an inch off the floor. “Dad. You’re not being fair.”

  Lowe ignored him.

  Kathy felt like a rope in a tug-of-war. If she stayed, she forced Brian to fight for her. A fight it didn’t look like he had a prayer of winning. But if she walked away, she might never see him again.

  She’d been such a fool! Why had she let this happen? Her training had drilled into her how important it was not to allow exactly this kind of emotional attachment. And the truth was, she’d seen it coming from the moment she met Brian. They’d clicked. She should have extricated herself from the assignment before her feelings for Brian overwhelmed her.

  Yes, Brian had initiated what happened today. But she’d been acutely aware of his intentions the minute he grabbed her arm. And she’d wanted him to kiss her. Had been wanting it for a very long time. She saw that all too clearly now. And it had affected the quality of her work with Brian. She’d wasted far too much time flirting and “playing” with him.

  Maybe Jerald Lowe had a point. Maybe Brian would be on his feet by now if he’d had a therapist who wasn’t preoccupied falling in love with him.

  She groaned. She had no choice but to leave. Brian would have to work things out with his father, but she wasn’t going to stand between them. It was bad enough she’d violated that sacrosanct space between client and therapist.

  She touched Brian’s shoulder. His T-shirt was still damp, and clung to his chest. The warmth of his skin soaked through the thin cloth. “I’m sorry, Brian. I…need to go.”

  She went to the corner by the door, slipped into her sandals and started gathering her things.

  “Wait, Kathy.” Pumping his arms, he wheeled toward her. “You don’t have to leave.”

  She slung her purse over one shoulder and straightened, facing Brian. “I think I do.”

  “Kath—”

  With his voice echoing in her ears, and feeling as if she were carrying a concrete block on her shoulders, she went through the door and crossed the hallway. The familiar whisper of his wheels on the tile behind her was conspicuously absent and a feeling of emptiness rocketed through her.

  She let herself out the side door and ran to the VW. Her mind began to process all the ramifications of today’s firing. Her monthly check from Jerald Lowe represented a hefty portion of her income. She would need to fill those hours. She hoped Brian’s father wasn’t vengeful. He was well-connected in Hannibal and he certainly had the power to blacklist her all over town if he so desired.

  As she wound her way down the hill, she didn’t allow herself so much as a glance in the rearview mirror. Her hands began to tremble, and the tears came. She prayed aloud over the whine of the Bug’s engine. “Oh, Lord… What have I done? I really blew it this time.”

  She turned onto the highway and punched the accelerator. Keeping her eyes trained on the road in front of her, she flipped on the radio. Carole King’s mellow voice filled the car. It’s too late, baby…

  She’d made a mistake that might change the course of her life. And yet, one thing kept intruding on her common sense: the way it had felt to be in Brian’s arms, to finally know what it was like to have him kiss her.

  But what if that first kiss had been their last?

  Brian pushed open the door and jammed his wheelchair through it, not caring if he scraped the fine wood. He propelled the chair the length of the wraparound porch and rolled down the ramp and into the driveway. Every muscle burned from the effort.

  Kathy’s Volkswagen rounded a curve in the drive and picked up speed. “Kathy!” His mind registered how foolish it was to yell at her. There was no way she could hear him. But he had to stop her somehow.

  Her car slowed at the bottom of the hill and Brian raced after her, his chair picking up speed with the momentum the steep grade offered. His wheels wobbled on the uneven pavement and he struggled to keep his balance.

  Behind him, his mother’s shrill voice begged him to stop. He took his hands off the wheels and let the chair fly of its own accord.

  At the bottom of the hill, the driveway inclined slightly before it fed onto the highway. When the incline slowed him enough to make it safe, he captured the handrims again and powered himself up the slope until he could see the highway. The VW was still in sight, but it grew smaller and smaller as it picked up speed and finally disappeared over the hill.

  Sweating and out of breath, he turned the chair around and started back up the hill. It was odd to see the house from this perspective. Except for Sunday mornings and his doctor’s appointments, and an occasional jaunt beyond the porch when the paperboy’s throw was off, he rarely went beyond the porch rails of this house.

  Even though his hands were blistering and his muscles burned, he relished the feel of the wind in his hair. It felt good to be in the sunshine. Good to be breathing fresh air.

  He saw his parents up on the porch, waiting for him, and slowed his pace. He had no idea how he would explain Kathy to them. He couldn’t very well tell them the truth.

  He stopped his chair in the middle of the driveway and turned to look back down at the highway. The silver ribbon of road was empty except for a semi-trailer belching black exhaust.

  Tell them the truth. What was the truth?

  He loved her.

  The thought took his breath away. But then the arguments started in his brain. You don’t know what love is. You’ve barely known the woman for three months. Besides, now you’ll never see her again.

  He broke into a cold sweat. What if that were true?

  “Brian?” His father’s voice ricocheted through the red cedars that dotted the hillside.

  “I’m coming.” Defeated, he turned around and started back up the hill.

  The driveway inclined sharply to the house and by the time he was within earshot of his parents, he was utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat.

  His mother had disappeared, but his father hung over the porch railing, waiting, his mouth set in a hard line. “Hurry up. Your mother is worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.” He slowed to a snail’s pace, keeping his head down. He didn’t have the energy for an argument with his father.

  But Dad met him at the top of the ramp and put a surprisingly tender hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find someone else to do your therapy. Your mother is on the phone right now. We’ll get something arranged before we have to leave next week.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t just stay and supervise all this myself, but I’m sure there are any number of competent—”

  Brian wriggled out from under his father’s touch. “I don’t want anyone else, Dad.”

  “I’m not going to let you give up. You are going to walk again, son. I know you are.”

  Brian lifted his head, jaw clenched, suddenly empowered by the ire flowing through his veins. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “I… What…?” For once his father seemed at a loss for words.

  “Kathy was the best thing that ever happened to me. You had no right to send her away.” If the fury he felt could have been harnessed, he would have risen from this blasted chair and marched into the house.

  But his words apparently zapped the tenderness right out of Jerry Lowe, because he responded with equal fury, his face turning from pink to crimson. “I had every right! I have not been paying these exorbitant fees so you can have some floozy at your beck and call. It’s no wonder you’re still in that chair if that’s the kind of therapy she’s been offering. She ought to have her license revoked.”

  “What?” Brian sputtered, groping for the right words. “You’ve totally misjudged this whole thing, Dad. It’s not what you think. It is not like…it looked.” He took a shallow breath. He could hardly fault his father for assuming the worst. He could imagine
how things must have appeared.

  His father paced the length of the porch and back. “If you think there’s any way you can explain away what I saw when I walked into this room…” He shook his head and paced some more.

  Brian tried to put himself in his father’s place. God, please give me the words to soften his heart, to help him understand. “Dad… Please let me explain.”

  His father paced some more and came to stand in front of Brian’s chair, leaning against one of the porch’s concrete balusters. “I’m listening.”

  “What…what you saw today just—happened. Kathy and I have become friends. Maybe more than friends. We’ve grown close over the course of my therapy. And she’s good at what she does. Excellent. Maybe you don’t see it, but I have improved a lot since she started helping me with the PT.”

  “I…I thought—” His father’s voice broke. He bowed his head, obviously struggling for control. Finally he looked up, his eyes red. “I thought you’d be walking by the time we got back. I prayed so hard, Brian. Your mom and I both did. I was so sure God would answer. After the sacrifice you made…how could He not?”

  “Dad…” Deep inside him, a hard place began to soften, and an old wound began to heal. “It’s going to be okay, Dad. I’m going to be okay.”

  His father regarded him, his face a mask of grief.

  Brian tried to muster a smile. “I may not win any marathons, but I get around all right. I think I will walk again someday. These things—they take time. But even if I don’t, I—” His voice fractured. “I came home with so much more than some of the guys.”

  His father nodded, his Adam’s apple working in his throat, his eyes still wet. Brian couldn’t quite decipher his expression.

  But he didn’t need to when Dad came to put a hand on his shoulder. “I wish I had your faith, son. I wish I did.”

  Not knowing how to respond, Brian placed his hand over his father’s. He was startled to realize that his was the larger. The symbolism did not escape him. In spite of their differences, he loved his father. But he had to start making some decisions for himself.