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“Well,” I began, “as it happens, I’ve got some plans tonight too.”
“I know,” Henry said, turning the stove off and plating the noodles for him and me. “Your work.”
I shook my head as I looked back at him ruefully. “No, not my work. I’m going out with someone.”
Henry looked amazed. “Who?” he asked.
“Someone I met at the park,” I said with a gentle shrug. “It’s just a date,” I said, reaching for a fortune cookie and unwrapping it.
Chewing on one half of the cookie, I struggled with my composure. “I could delay my date,” I added, but Henry scoffed at the idea.
“What’s the need for that?” he asked. “It’s been two and a half months since your wedding got called off. You need to meet other people.”
Our eyes met over the broken fortune cookie, and I couldn’t help but think what might have happened if Bruce hadn’t broken things off back then. If the wedding had gone through.
I’d never know.
“Well, it seemed like this was a good opportunity to move on,” I said at last. “Will is a nice guy, and this will give me a chance to forget about Bruce.”And more importantly, Sean.
“Do you like him?” Henry asked, his voice curious.
“It seemed like it was easy to talk to him,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
I refrained from telling Henry that he was the most important person to me. I’d done it in the past, and it just irritated him. I shouldn’t have to feel that my role as a caretaker was being threatened every time a new person entered our lives. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty for letting another person in. But knowing how I should feel and feeling something else entirely was the norm for me.
“But, Henry,” I said, measuring my words slowly, “it’s just a onetime thing.”
Henry said nothing for a moment. “You need to go,” he said at last. His voice was firm. “After my accident and after Dad left,well, I didn’t expect us to make it this far. Heck, I never thought I’d get to college myself. But look at us; we’re marching on. And irrespective of whatever’s happened, you shouldn’t have to give up fun. I have my life, and you’re starting to live yours the way it should be. I’m happy for you. So, go have fun.”
He took my untouched plate and dumped the contents into a bowl. “Freeze it,” he said, handing the lid and the bowl over to me. “You can eat it sometime later. But go on the date. It’s just one night.”
I took the bowl in relief, realizing that one night was doable. One date, and then my life would go back to the same old, same old.
Once I stowed the bowl in the fridge, I headed to my room to get ready, my heart heavy. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you?” I asked from my doorway to my bedroom.
“The bus stop is just down the road, so I’ll be fine,” he said, but he looked stressed as he thought about it.
I pressed my lips together. Henry loved these occasional evenings where he got to go out with his friends, but it also stressed him out. The uncertainty over getting into the right bus and how the evening would go bothered him.
He rolled away and off to the bathroom, the wheelchair squeaking faintly while his wheels turned.
I took twenty minutes to get ready and was almost done, putting on one last coat of lipstick when the doorbell rang. I turned to the mirror in a hurry, tying my hair up in a quick low knot before rushing out the bedroom door.
When I opened the front door, Will smiled back at me—a pleasant smile that made him look sweet. He was dressed in a short-sleeved white button-down shirt with dark gray trousers. He even had nice dress shoes on, which made me imagine we might be going somewhere mildly fancy. I felt glad that my blue blouse was ironed even if my skirt was a little old.
He was looking over my shoulder when a surprised look came over him. I turned to follow his gaze. Henry was just exiting the bathroom, and one of his wheels had gotten stuck on the edge of the bathroom door, which was trying to fall shut.
My brief look at Will was enough for me to notice the change that had come over him. He looked pale, shifting his weight from one foot to another. His jaw was tight, and beads of sweat shone on his forehead.
When he finally found his tongue, he stumbled over his words. “Oh. He—hey. Hi.”
Behind me, Henry cursed. I turned and saw that Henry was not looking up, but pushing himself backward and forward to get unstuck.
“Hang on,” I said over my shoulder to Will as I ran back to Henry.
Leaning over, I held the door in place while Henry took his wheelchair back and rolled out and away from the frustrating door. He was panting with the exertion when he let loose a few colorful expletives, glaring at the damn bathroom door.
“Going to the bathroom is already so difficult,” he shouted. “The damn door makes it worse.”