Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 39

    "Hey - wait, Tana, can I talk to you? Please?"

    Ronnie stuck his crutch in the doorway to Tana's hotel room just before she closed the door, forcing it to stay open. Tana looked up at him with tired eyes, glancing back at her children as they meandered toward their bedroom.

    "Um...I guess, yeah, let me just - um - I need to put them to bed, okay?"

    Ronnie stepped back and she disappeared into their room for a few minutes and emerged pale-faced, wiping tears from her bloodshot eyes. She barely looked at Ronnie as she grabbed her key card from her purse on the kitchen counter and led him to the little lounge by the hotel elevators.

    "What do you want?" she asked shortly, rubbing her eyes, fighting fatigue as she settled into the sofa.

    Ronnie dropped down next to her and leaned his crutches against the arm of the sofa, then took a deep breath. "I...Mandy told you what happened today? What Brandon said?"

    She nodded, pushing wayward strands of blonde hair out of her face. She was silent for a minute, fidgeting with a loose strand in the stitching of her jeans and avoiding Ronnie's eyes. Finally, Tana sighed and leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and spoke to a dark stain on the green and grey carpet.

    "Yeah...she came and gave Brandon's book back to me, the book the boys made for him. Said it was upsetting him, it wasn't good for him - that we should keep it away from him for a bit, until - until he's better."

    She paused, blinking rapidly. "I hid it in my purse, I can't...the kids can't know that it's hurting him. They tried so hard to make something that would make him happy, I - I can't - " her voice broke and she closed her eyes and hugged herself, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "I can't tell them that it's really doing the opposite."

    She was quiet then, and Ronnie bit his lip, debating silently with himself. "She told you...she told you he said he should've died?" he asked gingerly, aware he was now treading in very treacherous waters.

    Tana nodded wordlessly, her jaw clenched tightly. "Yes," she whispered after a minute, her voice tight with tears. "She did."

    Thinking of her face as she had emerged from her sons' room, he hesitated, then asked, "Do the kids...do they know?"

    She looked at Ronnie as though he'd grown a second head. "Of course not, Ron, don't you think they have enough to worry about? They're children. They just got over being afraid their dad was going to die, I'm not going to do that to them again."

    "The nurse, Mandy - she told me you refused the hospital's referral to rehab."

    "Yes," she said, her tone short and clipped.

     "Tana," he began, and then he faltered as he watched her stare stubbornly at the spot in the carpet, her eyes shining. "Tana, he needs help."

    Her voice was strong and steely now, brushing Ronnie away like a bothersome fly. "We will help him. He'll have all the therapists, all the doctors he needs. At home, where he belongs."

    "Mandy doesn't think that will - "

    "Mandy!" Tana scoffed tearfully, her voice climbing higher in hysteria, nearly shrieking in fury, "Mandy doesn't know him! Mandy just met him! He needs to be home. With us, with the kids, out of that horrible hospital, that horrible place - he needs to go home. He'll be better if he can just go home."

    "Tana, come on! It's not the fucking hospital, it's the fucking brain damage! He's depressed. His self esteem has gone to shit, I've never - I've never, ever seen him this low, Tana. He took over half an hour to even speak to me today, he was so upset, he's so - God, he's such a mess. He's talking about how he can't be a dad, he's stupid, he's useless, he's broken, and he wishes he was dead."