Conny moved down to the center of the bed, opposite her family, and pulled back the covers. Jolene saw Betsy flinch at the sight. Her daughter edged toward the door.
Jolene gritted her teeth as long, dark fingers began slowly unwrapping the elastic bandage. “It’s in a figure-eight pattern, see? That’s how you wrap it back up, keeping it tight to help with the swelling.”
Then the bandage was off; beneath was a soft white gauze.
She clutched at the blanket in her left hand, squeezed the fabric in her fist. Michael put his hand over hers, held it.
She saw her half leg for the first time, and it made her sick to her stomach. It was huge and swollen. Ugly. Tears flooded her eyes, and she fought to hold them back.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Betsy said, grunted really, and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“It looks like a football,” Lulu said, frowning curiously.
Michael looked at Jolene; she saw her own emotions mirrored in his eyes: fear, loss, sadness, pity.
“Come on, Jolene,” Conny said.
She drew in a shaky breath and slowly, slowly bent forward, picking up the new gauze Conny had put beside her.
“Carefully,” Conny said, putting his hands over hers, showing her how to bandage it.
Her skin was taut and sensitive; swollen; not hers, somehow. Bile rose in her throat; she swallowed and forced herself to keep going.
For Betsy and Lulu, she thought, over and over. Act like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t hurt and make you sick. Be their mom again.
She wrapped her leg back up tightly, placed the small silver hooks in place, and then sat back, her eyes stinging as she yanked the blanket back up.
“Beautiful job,” Conny said. “Practically perfect.” He looked down at Lulu. “You and your mom are so brave.”
“We’re soldiers,” she said. “Well, I’m just pretend.”
Conny smiled. “That explains it. And now, young lady, I need to get some things to help your mom exercise. You want to help me get them?”
“Can I, Daddy?” Lulu asked.
“Sure.”
When they were gone, Jolene flopped back into her mound of pillows, exhausted.
“You okay?” Michael asked, leaning over her.
She didn’t have the strength to deal with him right now. She felt so weak and vulnerable, and in that split second when their gazes had met, she’d imagined love. Nothing could scare her more. She’d given him her heart long ago, and for so many years, and then he’d crushed it. With her body so broken, she couldn’t let anything else be hurt. “Why are you even here, Michael? You know we’re over.”
“We’re not.”
She struggled to sit back up, hating how she looked doing something so simple, all off-balance and breathing hard. She threw back the covers. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Don’t lie to me, Michael.”
“I’m not lying. I learned a lot while you were gone, Jolene. About you … about me … about us. I was an idiot to tell you I didn’t love you. How could I not love you?”
She wanted it to be true, wanted it so badly she felt sick with longing. But she was broken now, and Michael had always had a keen sense of duty. It was one of the things they’d shared. He wouldn’t let himself walk away from his wounded wife, no matter how much he wanted to.
“We’re back, Mommy,” Lulu said, coming back into the room with Conny. “And Conny says we get to play catch!”
Jolene drew in a tired breath. She wanted to say, Really? With one hand? Won’t it be more like fetch? but she didn’t. Keeping silent felt like a minor triumph. She managed a small, hopeful smile. “Okay, Lulu,” she said. “I love playing catch. So let’s get started.”
*
Michael stood by Jolene’s bedside.
She had fallen asleep almost immediately after her PT session. He was hardly surprised. She must be exhausted. Today he’d seen the woman who flew helicopters. The warrior.
He stared down at her scabby, bruised face. Always, from the beginning even, when she’d come into his office that first day, he’d seen Jolene as a powerhouse, a woman with steel in her spine.
He saw her vulnerability now. Maybe for the first time ever she needed him. It surprised him how much that meant to him, how much he wanted to be there for her.
He touched her face gently. “Have I lost you, Jo?” he whispered.
He heard Lulu’s helium-high voice in the hallway, and he turned, realizing too late that he had tears in his eyes. He wiped them away as Lulu said, “Look, Daddy, we have ice cream.”