My daughter leads the way, skipping down the corridor, making nurses smile at her. Every step I take hurts like hell, but I try not to show it. I’m not a pussy, and I’m not going to act like one.
Once we’re loaded into Mila’s SUV, she glances at me. “I’ll go get your meds after I get you home. I don’t want you to have to wait at the pharmacy.”
“I’m not an invalid,” I tell her, but Jesus, the seat makes my back scream. Every muscle in my body feels like it is contracting, twisting, and has been shredded though a meat grinder.
“No arguments,” Mila says firmly as she pulls out of the parking space and onto the road. “You’re my patient now, and I’m a strict nurse. Some might even say militant.”
“You’d better listen, daddy,” Zuzu advises from the backseat. “Momma knows everything.”
I raise an eyebrow, even though that hurts, too. “Everything?”
Zu nods. “Yup.”
“Listen to your daughter,” Mila laughs. “She’s wise. She gets that from me.”
We drive over a bump and I suck in a breath as the pain reverberates through my ribcage. Mila glances at me.
“How bad is it?” she asks.
“Not at all,” I lie. “It’s great. Refreshing, actually.”
My wife rolls her eyes. “Reminds you you’re alive?”
I nod. “Exactly.”
She runs over another bump.
“I’ve already been reminded,” I tell her. “Avoid the potholes.”
“Sorry,” she says. “I’ll try.”
We sail through the morning traffic, and when we get home, I’ve never seen anything so welcoming as our cozy Cape Cod. Even the wrap-around porch looks All-American, and I exhale as I climb out of the car.
Mila rushes ahead to unlock the door and I climb the stairs gingerly.
“Daddy, I’ll read you a story,” Zu offers as we walk inside. “I know two of them.”
“She memorized them,” Mila tells me quietly. “But that’s ok. It’s how I learned to read, too.”
“I’d love that,” I answer Zuzu. “Go get your books, sweetheart. I’ll be on the couch.” I head to the kitchen first to grab some icepacks, and then settle in the family room.
Surrounded by the familiar artwork and our comfortable furniture, I finally relax. Home has a way of doing that to a person.
Zuzu tucks in next to me, and ‘reads’ me her Dr. Suess books while Mila runs out to get my prescriptions filled, and the sweet childish voice of my daughter lulls me to sleep.
I’m awakened hours late
r by Mila shaking my shoulder gently, a bottle of water in her hand.
“Here,” she thrusts two pills at me. “Take these.”
“I’m ok,” I tell her, but she’s already shaking her head.
“Nope. They said to stay in front of the pain. Take them, tough guy.”
“You think I’m pussy-whipped,” I tell her, as I swallow the pills. “But I’m not. I’m taking these because I want to.”
She laughs. “Oh, I know. It’s completely your idea.”