Chapter 15: New Partner, New Life

Connie and Vern used their SUV to haul the boxes of Shari’s belongings (mostly clothing) over to Walnut Street. What didn’t fit in the SUV traveled in Shari’s red van. After unloading was completed, Shari parked her wheelchair next to Sam’s chair and gave him an awkward hug.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

“Believe me, Shari, I’m totally ready for you to come.”

Grinning, Connie and Vern stared at each other. Vern said, “On that note, we’ll take our leave. We still on for Sunday’s barbecue?”

“Sure, please bring some sodas and beer. I can’t drink much alcohol yet because of the painkillers.”

“You got it. Bye, kids.”

“I’m making dinner for us, Shari. While I’m doing that, I want you to look around your new home and make sure everything is suitable for you. Let me know if we have forgotten something.”

Shari went to the master bedroom and bathroom first. The new bed was placed in the middle of the bedroom with ample space on each side. She knew “her side” was on the left, because Sam needed to sleep on his right side to keep his bad leg elevated.

She also saw that he had, quite thoughtfully, placed a new wide-mouth urinal bottle on her side. (Because nobody likes interrupting their sleep, having to get out of bed, transfer to a wheelchair, roll into the bathroom, transfer to the toilet, then pee, followed by the same steps in reverse.)

The bathroom was fully equipped with grab rails all over and a bench in the roll-in shower stall and a low-height sink for convenient hand-washing.

“He’s thought of everything. What a sweet guy.”

Back in the kitchen, Sam was draining the pasta. He was making tagliatelle (ribbon pasta) with bacon and mushrooms in a cream sauce. In the oven he was warming a loaf of sourdough cut into slices with each cut lightly buttered.

“Set the table, please, everything is almost ready,” asked Sam.

He tore apart the sourdough and place the hot slices in a basket, then plated the main dish. Also on the table was a bottle of prosecco (sparkling Italian white wine). After opening the bottle carefully, he poured a small portion into two stem glasses.

“To love and togetherness. Salute!”

Shari dug in to her meal, and moaned. “I love this. Do you cook a lot?”

“Because Lila had a grueling 40-hour job, I had more free time. Unless they scheduled me for a late-afternoon class at Stilten, it was best that I prepare the evening meals.”

“You realize what this means, Sam. Considering all the sweet features of this house, the amazing cookery, the formidable penis, and all your money, well, you’ll need dynamite to get me to leave here.”

“Shari, I never want you to leave. I love you. And after this meal, I promise to have you for my second dessert.”

“Second? What’s first?”

“Strawberry cheesecake.”

“Oooh, you’re winding me up good, Professor Hartman. I can’t wait for dessert, and dessert.”

Twenty minutes later.

Shari finished transferring the dishes into the dishwasher while Sam cleaned the cooking pans he had used. She gave him a “come hither” look and went rolling for the master bedroom.