“I don’t want to reschedule.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want everyone making a big deal out of this.”

“It is a big deal,” Diane says. “Take some time before you jump back into things.”

“I don’t need time off. I want to move on. As far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”

“But it did happen. You can’t just pretend it didn’t.”

“I’m not pretending, but I’m not going to let it stop my life either.” I look at Doug. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.”

“Your call.” Doug unlocks the car door and gets inside. “If you change your mind, let me know. Anne Carlson and I go way back. She’ll understand.”

I tell him I will.

Diane and I step back and watch him pull out of the hospital parking lot and drive away. We walk to our car, and when we get there, I notice she’s crying.

“You okay?”

She nods and fakes a smile. “I just feel so bad for you. You didn’t deserve this.”

“It could’ve been a lot worse.”

This doesn’t make her feel better, but I can’t think of anything else to say that might, so I put my good arm around her shoulder and pull her close. She leans into me until the tears stop, and then we get in the car and drive home in silence.

Halfway there, I feel my hand start to pulse under the bandage, and I realize the morphine is wearing off. The pain is still far away, but I know it won’t be for long.

I take it as a warning.

Things are about to get worse.

– 3 -

The package arrives with the morning mail.

It’s small, about the size of a coffee can, and covered in packing tape. I pick it up off the porch and set it on the kitchen counter.

“Another gift?” Diane asks. “Who’s it from?”