Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 56

    In the late morning sun that streamed brightly through the cracks in the hotel blinds, they waited. Ronnie and Olivia sat in identical armchairs by the window, peering idly through the gaps at the bustling city below.

    Tana sat on the bed, her book laid open across her lap. Occasionally, out of the corner of his eye, Ronnie saw her sneak glances at her children as they sat cross-legged on the carpet nearby, stifling their giggles while they played a board game, their suitcases piled neatly onto a cart beside them.

        "Hey, uh - Ron?"

    Ronnie was up in a flash, hobbling quickly to the open bathroom door and peering inside, his heart pounding. Behind him, every other occupant of the room followed his journey with their eyes, watching in suddenly charged, anxious silence.

    "Yeah, Bran?"

    Brandon stood at the sink, his face half shaved, blinking balefully at the razor in his hand. "Um...I...um...sorry, but...c-can you help me, please? I'm sorry, I j-just...I'm not so g-good at the...the other side."

    Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief, sagging onto his crutches. "Of course, B! I don't mind at all, I'd love to help!"

    Ronnie started to take a step into the bathroom, and hesitated, thinking better of it as he examined the dark little room, lit only by residual light from the lamp by the hotel room door. The bathroom was too small for two people with limited mobility to be banging around.

    "Hang, on, one sec - don't move," he said softly, easing in behind Brandon and carefully closing the lid on the toilet and stepping out again.

    "Bran, can you put the razor down and sit on the toilet for me? We're gonna use it like a chair - the tub too."

    Brandon obediently dropped the razor onto the bathroom counter, turned around, and then froze. He stood staring at his feet, sighed quietly, and looked up at Ronnie with sad eyes.

     Silently, Ronnie berated himself. Come on, dumbass - you should know better by now, you literally just did this to him yesterday. He won't remember that many instructions.

    "You - you w-wanted me to do s-something else. I know...I know you did...I j-just...I'm sorry."

    "That's okay, Bran. It's okay; it's my fault. You're doing so good. We're both gonna have to sit down for this. Can you sit on the toilet for me?"

    Brandon carefully moved to it and sat down, then rested his head in his hand with a soft sigh. He watched silently as Ronnie rinsed the razor in the sink and turned to look between the counter and the bathtub, biting his lip. Gonna have to be careful.

    "Hey, Tana?" he called softly, poking his head out of the door. Ammon, Henry and Gunnar looked up from their board game, sitting in a little group by the window.

    "She went to get something from the car," Gunnar piped up. "But dad needs help? I wanna help! We can help!"

    "Sure - could one of you get me a bowl - in my room there were some in that cabinet, just there by the coffee maker - and fill it with warm water for me?"

    "I got it!"

    Gunnar jumped up, positively brimming with excitement, accidentally kicking the game board and sending pieces flying every which way to the chagrin of his brothers.

    "Thanks, Gun," Ronnie laughed, smiling at all three boys and retreating into the bathroom. He picked up the can of shaving cream from the counter and held it out to Brandon. "Can you please hold this for me, Bran?"