Home Front(126)

“Maybe God’s waiting ’til Christmas Eve,” Jolene said. “A white Christmas would be great, wouldn’t it?”

Lulu’s little shoulders slumped as she turned away from the window. “I was hoping for no school.”

“But, Lulu, you love kindergarten.”

“I know,” she said miserably. “But I wanted to go with you today.”

Jolene pulled her youngest into her arms and kissed her cheek, then patted her butt. “Get dressed, Kitten. You’ll just have to wait to see my new pretty leg. Surprises are good, right?”

“I guess so,” Lulu said, although clearly she didn’t believe it.

“Good. Now let’s go wake up your sister. You know how cranky she gets if we’re late.”

Jolene and Lulu walked down the hall and awakened Betsy, and then the three of them went downstairs.

Today was supposed to be oatmeal.

“Cap’n Crunch,” Lulu said, climbing onto her chair. “Cuz it’s a special day.”

Jolene smiled at her daughters. “You know what, Lulu, it is a special day.”

Michael stumbled into the kitchen after the girls, looking tousled and a little bleary-eyed. A five o’clock shadow chiseled his jaw, gave him that rock star look she loved.

She handed him a cup of coffee.

He took it gratefully. “Thanks.”

“You look tired,” Jolene said, pressing against him. He leaned back against the counter, and put the cup down so he could grab her by her butt and pull her against him.

“I am tired,” he said, grinning. “I’m not getting much sleep lately.”

“Gross,” Betsy said from the table.

Lulu sat up, looked around. “What’s gross?”

Jolene laughed and pulled free, executing a pretty decent twirl on her clunky fake foot. She poured the girls some orange juice, then started packing lunches.

Michael kissed the girls good-bye and went upstairs to take a shower. Jolene moved through the morning routine with an ease that belied her inner excitement.

All week, she had tried to tamp down her expectations for this day. Repeatedly, she’d warned herself not to want too much, not to let hope run away with her, and honestly, until this morning, she’d done pretty well.

“Good luck, Mommy,” both girls said, one after another, as they left the warm house and ran down the wet driveway to the yellow school buses that pulled up out front. Jolene stood on the porch for each, waving until the bus was gone around the bend.

She felt Michael come up behind her. “Hey, you,” he said, holding her shoulders, kissing the back of her neck. “You ready?” he said from behind her.

She turned to face him. “I’ve been ready for months.”

“Then let’s go.”

They got into the car and drove away. All the way to the rehab center, Jolene stared out the window at the falling rain. Hope was an elevator right now, broken from its cables. She could feel herself plunging with it.

At the center, she and Michael met Conny in the lobby.

“Well, well, look how good you’re walking on that ugly clunker of a leg.”

“You said it wasn’t so bad,” she teased.

“I lied.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

The three of them walked down the wide white hallway to the prosthetic center.

Jolene smelled plastic. Artificial arms and legs and hands and feet hung on the walls and around her.

“Jolene Zarkades is here,” Conny yelled toward the back room.

A moment later, the Asian woman came into the front area, holding an artificial leg.

Jolene stared at it in awe. It was shapely, almost pretty, with a foot that could be adjusted for heels.

Conny took the limb from the woman and knelt before Jolene. He took off the heavy, unwieldy temporary leg and tossed it aside. Because her limb had shrunk so much in the last few months, she’d needed more and more gel socks to keep the fit tight in her prosthesis. Conny peeled the socks away, dropped them in a pile, until there was only one left, which he smoothed carefully to remove any wrinkles. Then he fitted her into the new prosthesis.

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. It didn’t look exactly real, of course, but it was close enough. She took a step forward, amazed at its lightness, its ease of movement. “It’s almost like having my leg back,” she said, looking at Michael, her eyes shining. “I could dance on this leg.” She turned to Conny. “Can I run?”

Conny said gently, “One mountain at a time, Jolene.”

For the next hour, she worked in the PT room with Conny, while Michael made notes on a deposition.

Jolene discovered that she could skip. She hadn’t skipped since childhood; now she couldn’t stop. She laughed so much and so often the other patients probably thought she was loony tunes, but she didn’t care.

“Well, Jolene,” Conny said at the end of the day. “It’s been good knowing you.”

Jolene felt a tightening in her throat. How could she ever thank this man, who had been there for her every step of the way? She walked to him, barely limping at all, feeling no pain in her stump. “You saved me, Conny. Without you—”

“It was always you, soldier girl. You have the heart of a champion.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll miss you, too, but don’t make a scene.”