Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 32

    "Oh my God, Ronnie! I've been worried sick! It's been like twelve hours, Ronnie, I meant for you to take like an hour, not twelve of them! I had no idea where you went, I couldn't find you, I couldn't call you, I didn't know if you were okay - we've got to get you and Brandon new phones before they let him out of here, we forgot but this is not okay, we need to be able to contact you guys!"

    Hoarse and strained, Olivia's anxious tirade had started before she had even seen his face, as soon as she heard the familiar sound of his crutches squeaking on the hospital floor as he came toward the waiting room, now empty save for his wife and Tana. At the far side of the room, the kids were cuddled in their chairs, tangled around each other in sleep. As he approached her, his back hunched in shame, he looked up at his wife and her face softened as she inspected his own, reddened and swollen with tears.

    "Honey, are you okay?"

    Ronnie ignored the question and merely snorted half-heartedly at Olivia as he eased his weary body into a chair next to her, Tana sitting across from them, stony-faced.

    "I'm sorry I made you worry," he whispered, staring at his knees, his voice raw and scratchy from all the tears shed that day.

    "That's really the least of your problems, Ronnie, I can handle it...but how could you do that to Brandon? He's absolutely convinced that you hate him, you know, that you're angry with him because he's hurt...after everything that you both have been through, how could you possibly say something that...that hateful?" Olivia kept her volume low, trying not to wake the sleeping children, but her voice trembled with emotion, and her jaw was tightly clenched as she waited for his response.

    "I know. I'm a dick, a horrible, horrible person, I'm sorry. I don't have any excuses." A soft ringing filled his ears and his stomach roiled, sick with guilt once again. He felt almost disembodied, as though he were watching himself from somewhere...outside.

    Tana spoke up now, her voice seething, dripping with anger. Ronnie couldn't bear to look at her, but nonetheless he could feel her eyes like burning coals in his heart. "Ronnie, I don't think you know. I don't think you have any idea. Nothing I said made any difference to him, nothing - he's just...it's like you broke him, Ronnie. You're one of the most important people in his life, he trusts you completely, without question, and you just ripped his head off out of nowhere, when all he was trying to do is make your sorry ass feel better."

    Tana closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and suddenly she deflated, from tense and angry like a coiled cobra, to sad and tired, worry lines suddenly standing out on her face in sharp relief. "I mean...he thinks you hate him, Ronnie, he told me that you're angry with him because he got hurt and he's useless now. He just kept asking what he had done wrong, because he must have done something horrible to make you so mad at him. How could you do that to him, Ronnie? I - I just...I don't understand, Ronnie. Help me understand. Please."

    Ronnie couldn't speak for a long while, staring at a crack in a floor tile while he fought the lump invading his throat, his chin trembling as he fought to maintain his composure. No more crying, I've done enough of that. He stared at the cracked tile, unable to bear looking at either of their faces. He opened his mouth to speak and then crumbled, his face in his hands, tears leaking out from between his fingers as his chest heaved with each breath. He could feel Olivia's hand on his knee, squeezing gently, as he forced himself to pull together, roughly banishing his tears.

    Hands clasped together in his lap, finally, he began, his voice halting and uncharacteristically quiet, eyes fixed on his feet. "When Brandon left, I didn't...I didn't really think anything of it until after he'd been gone for a while. It shouldn't have taken that long. He left just before sunset. And then the sun disappeared, and he still wasn't back. It started raining, and he still wasn't back. It was night, and he still wasn't back. The rain stopped, and he still wasn't back.