Chapter 19

After that, we went out shopping for what we’d need to make the apples that Gina raved about. I was genuinely curious, but was willing to wait until next week. Gina decided to join us and since her mother was free for the day, she didn’t have to take Hector. She helped us get all the supplies for making the apples. We got a lot more than the recipe called for and I explained that I wanted to make some under Louisa’s supervision so that I had the hang of it.

“Besides,” I explained. “We have a lot more people who’ll want to try them.”

After we got home, I talked to both Mom and Patty about the situation and they both agreed to have Louisa help out around the house. Patty didn’t really think it was necessary, but said she’d enjoy the company while we were all at school and work. I called Dad a little closer to lunch and he said he’d get a key made and drop it off after work. He was delighted at the opportunity to give up housework. That only left Frank and I was sure I could talk him into it with the right motivation.

That afternoon, we went out to get keys made for Louisa and I had the girls drop me off at the hospital for my appointment with Victoria. I was early enough that she was still in session with Stephanie so I sat down across from her door, out of the way of traffic. I pulled out my sketch pad and started to work on something new. I hadn’t been doing a lot of drawing lately and I’d put the pad in my backpack on a whim. I started working on a sketch of Dawn, since she was our newest family member.

I was still working on it when the door opened and Victoria led Stephanie out into the corridor. “Hi, Stephanie!” I said brightly, getting to my feet to greet her. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Hi,” she said to me shyly and nodded. “It was okay. How was yours?”

“Mine was pretty good,” I told her with a smile.

“You’re not using your cane,” she noticed. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am, but I’m also trying not to use it when I don’t have a lot of walking to do.”

She nodded in understanding. “Were you drawing something?” she asked, her eyes taking in the pad I had tucked under my arm.

I showed her what I was working on and told her it was my dog.

“She looks scary,” she said uncertainly.

“That’s just the coloring in her fur. She’s really playful and friendly. It’s kind of funny when she’s got her tail wagging and her tongue hanging out with the angry eyebrows.”

“Maybe you should draw her like that then,” she suggested.

We chatted for a few more minutes before Victoria touched her shoulder gently and reminded her that her mother was waiting. She nodded and then seemed to struggle with something, her brow furrowing. She looked at us both and then bit her lip before she stepped forward and gave me a very tentative hug.

I was surprised, but I hugged her very gently back and thanked her for the hug before she beamed at me and scampered away down the hall. Like she had before, she paused at the corner and curled her fingers at me shyly before disappearing off to meet her mother.

Victoria was quiet as she led me inside and we settled into our normal seats. She looked at me contemplatively for a moment before she shook her head. “Some days, I wish I could bottle you, Matt,” she said finally.

“That statement BEGS for a lewd joke,” I said with a laugh, glancing at her over the top of my sketch pad with a smirk.

“Maybe so,” she allowed with a small nod, “but you’ve worked a virtual miracle on that girl. You’ve already gathered that she’s very withdrawn. I really can’t tell you much more than that, but opening up to you is a huge leap forward for her.”

I shrugged dismissively. “I do what I can. It’s just a few minutes of conversation in the hall when I come for my appointments. It’s not that big a deal to me. If it’s a big help to her, then I’m glad to do it.”

“I’ll keep you posted. Her appointments will likely continue to overlap with yours. I’ll talk to her mother about keeping her for a few extra minutes to make sure that you have a chance to say hello. Enough about that now. How has your week been turning out?”

“Good mostly,” I admitted. “I haven’t had any real pain or discomfort from resuming sex. Of course I haven’t tried to take on two girls at once. I feel like that day is coming though. Emma’s due back soon and Lana and Beck should be cleared to celebrate shortly after the end of next week. They can take their final tests on Saturday. Then it’s just waiting a few days for the results.”

“You’re worried about having enough stamina for all of them?” she asked, amused.

“Not really. Gina and Cheryl aren’t ready to be with me that way, so that’s two fewer people looking for a little attention at bedtime. Collie and Tabby are planning on being weekend partners since they have an apartment that works for them really well. Hanna won’t be back until the 19th and even then she only rarely visited during the week. I envision being exhausted by Monday morning, but weekends are definitely going to be my busiest time of the week.”

She nodded. “Anything else happen?” she asked lightly.

“The visit from Patrick, but you already know about that.”

“Any lingering regrets that you didn’t kill him?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. “If I HAD any, they would have evaporated as soon as you expressed your approval of how I handled it. Honestly, I think he was more worried about me than I was about him.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He wanted my agreement not to take the vendetta to his parents. I think he was ready to take the deal, but needed to be sure they were safe from retaliation before he did.”

“Did you feel like that was something you wanted?” she asked.

“No,” I said lightly. “I’ve never met his parents. I’m told they came to the house, but I was here in the hospital.”

“What if they did come to the house?” she asked.

“I guess it would depend on the circumstances,” I admitted. “If they showed up with a gun, I’d get my shield off the wall. If they came to talk, I’d listen. I don’t have anything really against them other than that they raised their sons to abandon any sense of decency.”

She nodded. “How’re you feeling about Vance?” she asked, following the topic.

“Same as the day you showed me that clip for the first time,” I assured her. “There’s no sense of guilt. I KNOW he would have hurt people if I hadn’t ended him. There was no repentance in his eyes, no remorse in him. Whether it was the drugs or whether he was just a terrible human being, I don’t know or care. It doesn’t matter. I had personal contact with the evil he’d done. That makes all the difference in the world between him and Miranda.”

“Does she still bother you,” she asked, drawing me out.

“Nope,” I said. “As much as I’ve recovered from the losses I suffered, I still suffered them. I was miserable to the point of suicidal. Does that make things right? I dunno. Probably not. I think the best that can be said about it was that it threw some dirt over that particular grave. I put it to rest. I don’t even intend to visit her brother. I might call him at some point, but probably not. At this point, I don’t think it serves any purpose.”

“You’re probably right about that much. How are things going now that the Bedtime Mafia are back in your life?”

“Good,” I said. “A little strange, but good. I get the feeling that Lana and Emma bonded a lot while I was in the hospital this time. That felt kind of weird. I guess it’s kind of like when divorced men see their new wife getting along with their ex. I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but it still makes me nervous. I dunno if that makes sense or not.”

“It does,” she assured me. “Lana was the architect of a lot of your misery. Even though she turned out to be a victim too, she was still the face of your torment. Seeing her influencing Emma can leave you feeling a little uneasy. Try not to let that feeling have a full head of steam. Shining a light on it can rob it of a lot of its influence, so we should continue to talk about it if it continues to bother you.”

“I wouldn’t even say it bothers me,” I frowned. “It’s more like a vague awareness of it.”

We talked back and forth over different topics until she turned the conversation toward the study. “I understand you’re getting along a lot better with Dr. Nichols,” she said lightly.

“Julie’s okay,” I said. “She was just a little slow to believe what we were telling her about the reality of the situation.”

She nodded. “Now that she has, the two of you are in a better place to work together?”

“I think so,” I said. “She’s a good fit. Obviously, my preference would be to have Carl’s cancer fuck off indefinitely so that he can see the study published and his name elevated in person, but failing that, I think Julie’s going to help us put the capstone on his life’s work.”

“Carl feels very upset about how he’s portrayed your gift to you,” she told me.

“It’s not the first time he’s worried that he’s damaged me with an unguarded observation,” I pointed out.

“No, and he tells me this came out of the same conversation,” she said.

I shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal,” I told her honestly.

“He left you with the idea that you might be autistic and you don’t think it’s that big a deal?” she asked with her eyebrow arched.

“Yeah,” I said simply. “We’re all at a loss to explain what this actually is, right? A super-rare form of autism is as plausible an explanation as any. It’s never been studied before so there’s no way to chart its course ahead of time, no way to predict the outcome and no way to prevent it taking a wrong turn if it decides my time is up. Whatever it is could cause strokes, seizures and any one of a million other neurological defects. We won’t know until it’s too late, so there’s no point in agonizing over the possibilities. That’s what I tried to tell him. I live my life to the fullest knowing that it might not last as long as I want it to.”

“So you’re trying to cram a lifetime into each day?” she said, concerned. She rarely ever displayed concern like this and it gave me pause.

“I don’t think I’d put it quite so desperately,” I protested. “More like I take whatever opportunities I can. If I had the choice between hanging around the house and going out with friends, I’d go out even if I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than sleep. I’ll have plenty of time for sleep later on.”

“Once the full weight of autism robs you of your functionality?” she clarified.

“That’s one possibility,” I admitted. “I could also just as plausibly be this way for the rest of a long healthy life and find the time to nap a lot more in later years.”

“You don’t believe that though,” she said softly.

“I believe that Carl was being honest,” I told her pointedly. “He was speaking plainly without thought to the implications of what he was telling me. Initially he worried he’d started me on the path to megalomania and now he feels like I’m listening to my own personal Armageddon Clock ticking away in my head. Neither is really true, but both have given me something to think about. They’re exact opposite ends of the scale from each other.”

She nodded. “So you’re not dwelling on either possibility?”

“Honestly, I spend most days so busy that I barely spare a thought for either possibility.”

She nodded. “He’ll be glad to hear that,” she said.

“On the subject of living life to the fullest though, I think we may have a small wrinkle. I intend to spend my summer in Malibu. I’m not planning to fly back once a week to do tests. Is that worked into the study yet?”

She nodded. “Carl and I discussed it and if we can find a university with a neuroscience department capable of running the tests, would you still be able to make some time to stop in and run them once a week?”

“I don’t see why not,” I allowed. “It’s only an hour or so per week and then a few hours once a month. What about UCLA?”

“I’ll mention it to Carl. He might actually have a different suggestion.”

“Yeah, I really don’t know a lot about colleges out there,” I admitted. “Normally I’d be starting to sniff around to see what schools I could get into, but circumstances have sort of outpaced that need.”

“You don’t say,” she said playfully. “Carl will be happy that you’ll make yourself available for testing out there. Speaking of which, he was very pleased with Christmas. He normally spends the holiday alone in reflection or with me or another of the ‘Carl Club’ as you like to call it.”

I nodded. “I was glad you could both be there,” I told her. “I know it’s wildly optimistic, but I sincerely hope he beats the odds and it’s not the last Christmas he’s around for.”

She smiled thinly. “I think ‘wildly optimistic’ is a conservative assessment, but stranger things have happened. He has an incredible will to see this work through. Who knows? It could sustain him for the length of the project and Julie could end up being his assistant for the next several years.”

“I’m perfectly okay with that outcome,” I said firmly. “I know that the best we can probably hope for is that he makes it through to September and even that’s pushing it. Just promise me that if he starts to slip while I’m away, you’ll call me so I can fly back. I’ll want the chance to say goodbye if I can.”

She nodded. “I think we can handle that. I think you should know that I took a look at his medical file and I think June is a generous estimate. The spread is very pronounced.”

I nodded and took a moment to digest that. “So more likely sometime in April or May,” I said flatly.

“That would be my suspicion based on the progress of the disease,” she said sadly. “Not news that either of us wanted to embrace, but at least we know now.”

“True,” I said softly. “How’s he taking things?” I asked gently.

“Better than we are,” she chuckled. “He’s focused on putting his affairs in order and ensuring a smooth transition from his leadership to Julie’s. That’s keeping him goal-oriented while he processes the situation. He’s got a few more things he wants us both to have and then I think he’s done except for his will.”

I nodded. “And the part you all think I’m going to object to,” I brought up lightly.

“You’re worried about that?” she asked evenly.

“Not at all. I have a pretty good idea what it is and I understand why you’d think I’d object. It’s a rather large gift. I’m at peace with the idea though.”

“Oh?” she arched an eyebrow. “And what idea do you have of what it might be?” she asked curiously.

“If I was a betting man, I’d put my chips on property. A house, condo, land, something like that. If it was a car, there’s no reason for him to think I’d object. A piece of property though is far more grandiose a gift than a car.”

“That’s an astute observation,” she said. “What if it was a car that blows that Stingray out of the water though?”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” I said. “He could have the famed lost Aston Martin from Goldfinger and I’d treasure the Stingray more. It was his first car. I can’t imagine there’s anything on wheels that would mean as much to me as that.”

“He’ll be angry that you figured it out,” she said delicately.

“No, he won’t,” I countered. “He’ll be grumpy that the cat’s out of the bag, but he’ll secretly be proud that I worked it out.”

She chuckled. “You’re probably right. Should I tell him or let you see the look on his face?”

“You tell him,” I said with a smile. “Take him out to dinner. Tell him to stop worrying that he’s damaged me by gushing over my abilities and tell him I promise not to object to his Will. I take it that you’ve seen the property in question?” I asked.

She nodded. “Once you get over your initial reaction, you’ll be pleased with it.”

I nodded. “Well, like I said, I’ll be deeply honored that he left it to me. I think I’m past any objections I might have once raised about it.”

“We’ll see,” she said cryptically. That kind of worried me. She knew me well enough to know when I was going to freak out.

We changed subjects after that and talked about Cheryl and things with her parents, the new custody arrangement and Howard’s assurance that the custody arrangement cut them off from legal action on her behalf or the baby’s. We talked some about Gina’s situation.

“You’re right to not pressure them,” she told me. “I’m worried that you’ve collected four of the victims from the Waterman Weekend. Dating one girl recovering from sexual assault can be a minefield of anxieties and insecurities. Dating four?”

“Is like tap-dancing through that same minefield in a blindfold in the dark,” I supplied. “I’ve had several times in the past six months that felt like that,” I said wearily. “I’m honest and up-front about things with them. If they’re not ready for sex, then there’s no sex. I think Cheryl is pushing herself, but I think she’s more torn between her anxieties and her hormones than Gina is or even Lana and Beck.”

She nodded. “So long as you’re aware that they could blow up or lash out and that it’s about what’s going on in their heads and not what you’ve done. At least not necessarily about what you’ve done. I don’t discount the possibility that you could put your foot on one of those landmines in a moment of glibness,” she told me dryly.

“True,” I said. “I try to keep myself in check though.”

We hashed out the topic a little more and then we were done for the night. I packed up and took off to see Diego and do my therapy before walking home. Diego warned me about what to look for in signs of strain on my shoulder and we talked more about my prognosis.

“I don’t see anything holding us back from getting your arm back to normal by mid March,” he admitted. “It’ll still be sore sometimes, but that should fade over time too. We’ll likely hit two plateaus during our rehab where it doesn’t seem like we’re making a lot of progress, like I told you before. Keep with me and then when we get past them, you’ll see a big improvement over a short period of time.”

“I remember,” I assured him. “How long do those plateaus usually last?”

“A week or two,” he estimated. “I think you’ll be past the point of needing me by the time you have to report for your charity event. Even if we’ve still got a way to go, I think we can clear you for the event if you stay aware of your arm’s limitations at the time.”

He asked how the weight felt and changed things a little. He wanted me to keep at the exercises with the single pound, but to add a half set with the two pound weight as well.

I walked home afterwards, feeling better about my recovery and vowing to get better in time to walk into April with both arms working perfectly.

When I got home, I found dinner was waiting on me and we ate in peace, talking about our days and chatting back and forth. Between the shopping and the physio and the walking with Dawn this morning and home after the hospital, I was pretty wiped. I excused myself, skipping dessert and told everyone I was going to finish off the homework I had from Diego and then go to bed. I told all the usual people that they were welcome to join me when they were tired, but I needed to turn in early.

I took Dawn out to pee before I took her downstairs to bed. She watched me do my exercise routine and grimace through the last of it as I hefted the extra weight to build up a little more strength. I finally crawled into bed, feeling like I’d been swinging that arm hard for a week. Sleep rolled me under before Dawn finished settling herself and I slept like the dead.

I woke Thursday to find Tricia and Gina had joined Cheryl and I in bed last night. I rolled out of bed and got dressed to take Dawn out for her walk. I let her frisk a little in the backyard first to answer nature’s call and then put her back on her leash and took her around the neighborhood. My leg was really improving, I was happy to see. By the time we got back, it was sore, but not nearly like it was the week before. I put out food and water for Dawn and then decided that I wasn’t ready to face the day. I went back downstairs and stripped down before getting back into bed, letting myself drift into a pleasant dream about my girls.

I finally stirred when the girls started getting up and we went upstairs to a late breakfast. It was New Years Eve so whatever shopping we wanted to do had to be done relatively early. We went out for nothing in particular and wandered the mall as a group with Lana and Beck. We had a late lunch, picked up a few more snacks for tonight and then returned to the house. We didn’t have practice again today and even physio was off for today. I was sort of bummed about that, but also really happy to have a few days off to rest my arm.

We broke out the board games and started getting them ready to play. They had an unbelievable number of pieces to some of them. Collie and Tabby joined us for dinner which turned out to be Chinese takeout.

“Cheryl, dear,” Mom said partway through dinner, “your phone is switched over to our account. I upgraded your plan a bit so that you’ve got a little more freedom with it.”

“Did you, um, have any problems?” she asked delicately.

“Not really,” she said lightly. “I spoke to your mother and she was civil about it. She called their provider and then I called ours, gave them your phone number and they merged you into our family account pretty smoothly.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t any trouble,” she said quietly.

“your mother DID ask how you were getting along,” she admitted. “I told her you were still settling in, but you had all the help you could ask for.”

She nodded, but any mention of her parents generally made her sad. We changed topics after that and we slowly managed to leave the moment of melancholy behind us. Lilly was spending the night with some of her friends and Mom, interestingly enough had plans to go out that involved Frank. Tricia and I exchanged amused looks and we both told her we hoped she had a good time.

She gave me a look that said to butt-out and we let it drop. I returned an innocent one that protested that I hadn’t said a word. She narrowed her eyes and then changed topics. “Since no one else is going to be home, I expect I’ll need to knock loudly and then give you five minutes to find most of your clothes when I come home tonight,” she said, turning the conversation back onto me. “Try not to have sex in your sister’s room,” she requested of me. “I know she sometimes does things to make it a tempting way to get back at her, but humor me, just this once?”

“Nah, if I really wanted to annoy her, I’d hide her guitar and fill her case with books so she wouldn’t notice until she got to her lesson,” I said with a grin.

“That’s just mean,” Tabby said with a laugh.

“Not as mean as it could have been,” Collie pointed out. “I’d just remove the strings from her guitar and hide them if I wanted to get back at her for something mean.”

“That would suck,” I laughed. “Let’s promise not to do any of that. She’ll undoubtedly escalate if we screwed around with her guitar. We’re better off actually having sex in her room.”

They all agreed that she’d take it personally and then we broke open our fortune cookies to see how the fortunes turned out for us. They were all relatively harmless. Mine though, was a little different.

“A foe from the past has plans for the future,” I read, frowning at the paper. Most of these fortunes were vague snippets of wisdom that could apply to almost any situation. “That’s sort of ominous.”

“They’re just random fortunes,” Cheryl said dismissively. “They don’t MEAN anything.”