Fragile Hearts (12 page)

Christmas break is over and I have shocking news
for Morgan. I'm late to school because I've been at the hospital. I wait for
Morgan after her first class. I've missed her so much I feel tongue-tied when I
see her. I ask her about Christmas just to break the ice. Finally, I say, "Can
we find a private spot? I need to tell you something."

She looks concerned and I know she's thinking
the worst about Kaylee. She follows me outside and we stop under a tree. The
weather is crisp, but beautifully clear. I lean against the tree and grin.
"Kaylee had the surgery to replace a kidney. I didn't call because I
wanted to tell you in person. She's doing well. The doctors are pleased with
her progress."

Morgan responds happily and wants to know about
visitors. I tell her Kaylee can't have visitors yet, and then I bend down and
whisper, "Lucy was the kidney donor."

As expected, Morgan is shocked. I explain that I
found out by accident when I saw Lucy in another room in the hospital. I tell
Morgan that Lucy doesn't want Kaylee to know she's the donor and that Lucy's
mother didn't even know about the surgery until the last minute.

Morgan wants to see Lucy right away. I
understand and drive her to the hospital. When I pull into a parking space and
glance at her, she has a smile on her face. I ask, "What are you
thinking?"

Her smile widens. "I'm thinking that I love
Lucy."

We enter the hospital and I lead her to Lucy's
room. There are tears in Morgan's eyes as she approaches her friend. Lucy
smiles and says, "They told me Kaylee is doing great."

Morgan responds, "Why didn't you tell
us?"

"Because you're both worry warts."

We visit with Lucy for a few minutes before a
nurse comes in to give her a shot, then she gets sleepy and starts talking
crazy stuff about Lucille Ball. We take that as our cue to leave. As we drive
away from the hospital, I'm reluctant to just take Morgan home, so I suggest we
stop at The Coffee Mug. We find an empty table and make small talk. We decide
to return to the hospital the next day, and then I ask Morgan how she's doing
in swimming. Unconsciously, I reach over and stroke her arm and she gets goose
bumps. She tells me about swim practice and then I tell her about a job offer.
She's really happy for me and wants to know if I'm going to accept. I respond
that I don't know. She wants to know why. My emotions scream that it's because leaving
this town would mean leaving her. My heart is toast when it comes to Morgan.

The next few days are busy because of tutoring,
homework, and trips to the hospital with Morgan. We meet Lucy's mother, who is
just as funny as Lucy. We're at the hospital the day Lucy is discharged and
after we say goodbye, Morgan and I ride the elevator to the fifth floor to check
with the nurse's station about Kaylee's progress. We're told she's been moved
to the second floor. Backtracking to that floor, the clerk at the nurse's
station grins and says Kaylee keeps asking about visitors.

 When we enter Kaylee's room, she gives us a big
smile while tossing a book aside. "I was wondering when you two would get
here." She then tells us how much the food sucks. After that, she informs us
she's going to become a detective and find out who her donor was. Morgan and I
don't let on that we know anything.

We visit Kaylee almost every day. Today, I leave
class early because I want to watch Morgan swim. I stand in a spot where she
can't see me because I don't want to make her nervous. I'm so proud of her as
she pulls herself through the water. Her arms are sleek, strong, beautiful, and
I can tell she's kept up the weight lifting. She's swimming against others on
her team, and although she doesn't come in first, she looks terrific. At the
finish line, she's smiling as she lifts her head out of the water. Her teammate
in the next lane gives her a high five and the women laugh.

Watching them, I realize just how far Morgan has
come these past months and I know she's going to go much farther. The guilt I
feel for putting her in that wheelchair is still there, but it's not as
unbearable. Morgan is a remarkable woman and now I have a decision to make. Do
I tell her about my part in her accident and risk losing her friendship, or do
I remain silent and accept a job in Phoenix. The latter choice would allow me
to leave with my secret and character still intact.

After Morgan's swim practice, I wait for her in
front of the gym. She looks very happy. The day is cool, but sunny and
beautiful. As we leave for the hospital, I'm still considering whether I should
tell her the truth about my connection to the accident.

After we pull into the drive-through at the Dairy
Queen to buy a blizzard for Kaylee, Morgan says, "You're quiet today. Have
you decided on that job offer?"

"No, but another offer came in from
Oregon."

Although she smiles, there's sadness in her eyes
when she says, "I've never been to Oregon, but I hear it's beautiful. Would
there be snow where you live, if you accept?"

"Probably not. It's in Portland."

Her next question hits me in the gut. "Why
did you decide to become a physical therapist?"

I glance out my side window so I can compose my
expression. "I guess I like helping people."

She's silent for a minute, and then says,
"Well, you certainly helped me. I mean not only with the weight training,
but with all the encouragement."

I say, "I watched you swim today."

Softly, she replies, "I know."

I jerk my head to look at her.

She says, "I've seen you more than once,
hiding in the shadows."

I respond, "I didn't want to make you
nervous."

"I've learned to focus only on the task at
hand…swimming to the other side of the pool. I've come a long way since the day
you were an aide helping me."

I can't help but smile. "Yes, you have."

Hesitantly, she asks, "What did you think
of my swimming?"

I study her face. "I thought you were
fabulous."

"Really?"

"Really. Your upper body strength has
increased and you fairly glide through the water."

Morgan's wide smile is beautiful. She responds,
"The tryouts are in two months."

Our conversation is interrupted while we place
our order. When we're back on the road she sets the paper sack with the
blizzard in it between us on the seat, and then clasps her hands tightly in her
lap. "There's something I want you to know."

I take one hand off the steering wheel and reach
to cover her hands. "What's that?"

"This might sound strange, but as much as I
want to make the swim finals, at the same time, it's okay if I don't. Just
being part of…well…life again has changed my whole perspective, and…" She
pauses and I glance quickly at her. She smiles sweetly. "I've decided to
become a physical education teacher for challenged children. I want to teach
them before they're my age and hard-headed."

My heart is so full of love for Morgan, and at
the same time hurting so badly, I'm afraid to speak. I tighten my hand covering
hers. Shyly, she lowers her gaze to stare at our hands, and says, "I want
to thank you for helping me to see that I have an exciting future and purpose
for my life."

I squeeze her hands once more and then turn my
attention to pulling into the hospital parking lot. It gives me time to compose
myself.

As we head toward the lobby, I do something I
shouldn't. I bend over and lightly kiss Morgan's cheek. She lifts her eyes to
mine and says, "Have you noticed that I don't try to hide that cheek
anymore? I'm no longer obsessing over my scars."

We've reach the portico of the hospital and I
step in front of her, kneeling down. "Baby, I don't see any scars, all I
see is a beautiful woman with a heart as big as the sky."

She blushes again and teases, "You should
have been a poet."

When we reach Kaylee's room, we visit for awhile
and then I'm surprised when Kaylee's mother shows up. I can tell Morgan is too.
The woman is fashionably dressed and looks like she just stepped out of a magazine
spread, but her love for her daughter is etched into her concerned expression
and the tears in her eyes. I think maybe I've been too quick to judge her.
Morgan and I decide a trip to the cafeteria is in order so mother and daughter
can be alone.

Morgan asks me how long I've been tutoring Kaylee
and I tell her about three years. Thinking about Kaylee's admonishment that I
tell Morgan the truth about myself has me feeling uncomfortable. I change the
subject by saying, "Let's go back and say goodbye. I have a tutoring
appointment at seven."

As we get off the elevator, Morgan tells me
she's going to the restroom and she'll meet me back at the room. Kaylee's mom
isn't there when I enter and I'm relieved I don't have to make conversation
with her. I tell Kaylee that Morgan will be along in a minute and then I tease
her about her sweet tooth. She says, "That blizzard was wonderful. Can you
bring me another one tomorrow? You know I'm on a regular diet, right?"

"I wouldn't have brought this one if you weren't."

"Always looking out for me."

"You got that right, kiddo. And as far as
another blizzard tomorrow, what flavor?"

Kaylee grins. "Banana split."

"You got it."

She tilts her head sideways and studies my face.
"So, when are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know."

"She has a right to know."

"Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn't."

"Tyce,
she does.
She as a right to
know how you're connected to her car accident."

"You don't know the truth of what happened.
All you know is what you read in your father's investigative report."

"That's true, but Tyce, you've
got
to tell Morgan what happened."

I hear the door to the hospital room open and
turn to see Morgan enter. I'm standing between her and Kaylee, so Kaylee can't
see Morgan's face, but I know by her expression she heard us. She smiles
brightly and steps to the other side of the bed. "Kaylee, girl, I think
it's time for Tyce and I to leave. And as much as I know you don't want to hear
this, you need to rest."

Kaylee makes a face at her and then says,
"Yes, Doctor Wheeler."

Morgan leans over and kisses Kaylee's cheek. My
heart is pounding so hard I can barely breathe.
She heard us.

Morgan doesn't say anything as we walk through
the hospital corridors and then the lobby to the parking lot. I can't bring
myself to meet her gaze.

At my truck, as I lift her into the cab, she
places her hands on my shoulders and pushes slightly backwards. I pause and
finally look into her eyes. She doesn't say anything, just stares questioningly
at me.

We gaze at each other for a long time before I
say, "I'll explain shortly."

She nods.

I get Morgan situated and then put her chair in
the truck bed. I decide to do something I may regret. I drive toward the scene
of Morgan's accident years earlier. At first, she doesn't know where we're
going, then it hits her and she jerks her head toward me, her eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" she gasps.

"I'm reliving the past so I can finally live
with my guilt."

"I don't want to go there."

"I don't want to either, but…" I don't
even know how to finish my sentence.

Morgan places her arms around her middle, like
she's trying to protect herself. Nothing will protect either of us now. It's time
for brutal honesty.

We're on the country road of the accident. It's
a pretty road with a few trees and scattered farms. I pull over and park across
the street from the place where Morgan's life and mine intersected seven years
ago. There are two crosses planted side by side. I suspect Morgan's mother or
father or maybe the boy's parents placed them there. They're old now, and one
of them is leaning sideways. Rather than seeing the neglect of the crosses as a
negative, I see it as the parents moving on with their lives; not forgetting,
but just letting the past lie.

Morgan is now slightly rocking back and forth,
holding her sides. I swallow the lump in my throat so I can begin my story.
Staring straight ahead out the windshield, I say, "My father's name was
Jeffrey Rowland."

I hear Morgan gasp.

"As you know, he's the drunk who hit you
head on. He's…" My voice falters, but I inhale and continue, "He's
the man who killed your sister, her boyfriend, himself, and put you in that
chair."

Morgan's rocking becomes more pronounced.

I continue, "But what you don't know is
that I'm as much to blame as my father."

Morgan glances quickly at me and then away,
staring at her lap.

I tap the fingers of my right hand nervously on
the steering wheel. "My father wasn't an evil man, he was just unhappy. I
don't know exactly why, except that he always talked about the football scholarship
that got away because of a knee injury he sustained during the last weeks of
high school. I guess it ate at him over the years. Anyway, a couple of years
out of high school he met my mom and married her after she got pregnant. I
think he loved her, but always felt his life was going nowhere. He worked the
assembly line in a factory and he hated it. He was a melancholy person. My mom,
on the other hand, is just the opposite. She has a zest for life that always
looks for the silver lining. I think, in a way, he was jealous of her. Of
course, that's just speculation."

I drum my fingers again on the steering wheel.
"Anyway, the night of the accident, my dad had started drinking early
because it was Saturday. By the time evening rolled around, he was a goner. I
was barely sixteen and hated the fact that he got drunk every Saturday and
usually slept the day away. I wanted to play ball, go to movies, just do anything
with my dad that other kids did. On that evening, my mom had gone for a walk to
watch the sunset, and my dad ran out of beer. When he said he was going to the
store for more, I grabbed the keys off the hook so he couldn't go. My mom never
let him drive if he'd been drinking. It really pissed him off when I wouldn't
give him the keys and he started shouting and cussing at me. I tried to get him
to see reason; tried to explain that he was in no condition to drive, but he
wouldn't stop yelling profanities. Then he started telling me what a loser he
was and that I was following right in his footsteps. When he started
downgrading my mother, though, I'd had enough."

I pause because I can't go on just yet. Morgan
has stopped rocking and is now watching me. I force my eyes to meet hers and
finally tell her the truth. "I threw the keys at him and yelled that I
hoped he'd crash and kill himself."

Turning to look out the windshield, I feel the
tears I've held in check, but I keep talking. "Not only did my words come
true for him, but they came true for others, as well, and put you in that
chair. If I'd kept my cool and just left the house with the keys, he would have
been as mad as hell, but the accident wouldn't have happened and…"

Now I can't talk as tears roll down my cheeks. I
turn until Morgan sees only my back and I stare across the street at the crosses.
I swipe the tears away. We don't say anything until I choke out, "I'm so
sorry, Morgan." I inhale a shuddering breath. "What you don't know is
that I was so plagued by guilt after the accident that I used to ride my bike
past your house just to see you; see how you were doing. One day I even came
face-to-face with you in a grocery store."

I make a waving motion across the street. "I
used to bring flowers to the crosses. I was so tortured that my mother finally
sold our home, moved across town, and changed our last name. It wasn't until
about three years ago that I started to get a handle on my guilt. I knew I
could be like my father and allow regrets to consume me, or I could go on.
That's when I stopped driving by your place and bringing flowers here. And then
when I saw you in the hallway at school looking so lost and scared, it was like
you'd been given to me as a gift. I could help you. I could make some kind of
atonement for what I'd caused."

I turn to face Morgan holding my hands out in
front of me, as if beseeching her forgiveness. "So now you know
everything."

She looks at my hands and then into my eyes.
Something in hers flashes and I can't comprehend what it is. She finally speaks
softly, "I want you to drive across the street and park."

Her look is so intent that I don't argue. "Okay."
I turn the ignition on and make a u-turn that brings us across the road.

Morgan continues in a calm voice. "Put me
in my wheelchair beside the crosses."

I do as she asks.

A cloud covers the sun and the air chills. Morgan
reaches to touch first one cross and then the other. I crouch in front of her
and wait. A car whizzes past on the country road.

I continue to wait.

Morgan says without looking at me. "I never
told anyone what really happened that night." She smiles sadly. "I
was such a brat to my older sister. I wanted to go everywhere with her and she was
usually pretty good about taking me." She pauses for breath. "On the
night of the crash, my sister's boyfriend came over and wanted to take her out
for ice cream. I wanted to go with them, but Emily said no. She was really
crazy about this guy. Personally, I didn't like him. When she refused to let me
go, I threatened her by saying I'd reveal something personal to her boyfriend."
She puffed a breath. "I can't even remember what it was. I've tried, but I
can't. Emily got really mad, but let me go with them. Before arriving at this
spot in the road, Emily and Jason got into a fight over some girl at school
that my sister thought he was paying too much attention to. Jason got so angry
he turned the car into a side road and stopped. My sister jumped out of the car
and stalked away. I remember Jason cussing and hitting his hand on the steering
wheel. I tried to calm him, but he started going off on my sister and saying
bad things about her. I was just about to jump out of the car and run to find Emily
and tell her what a creep Jason was, when he jumped out of the car and slid
into the backseat with me. I was so shocked I didn't do anything at first, but
when I started to get out of the car, he grabbed me and started telling me how
cute I was and that he wanted to dump my sister for me. Then he pinned me down
and started kissing and grabbing me. Honestly, I think the guy had mental
problems."

Morgan lifts her hand away from the cross she's been
touching as if it burned her. I'm clenching my fists so hard my nails are
biting into my palms.

She doesn't look at me as she continues, "I
finally kicked him in the stomach and he jerked away long enough for me to open
the door and run. It was a dark night and I started yelling for my sister. She
suddenly came into sight and told me to shut up. She was still mad at me for
tagging along. I told her I needed to talk to her. She just skirted around me and
went back to the car. Jason was behind the wheel again and she went to his
window and started kissing him and apologizing. It made me sick, but it also
made me angry with her. This guy was a jerk, but she'd rather kiss him than
listen to what her baby sister had to say. So I made a decision."

Morgan's voice cracks for the first time and I
quietly wait.

She repeats, "So I made a decision to let
my sister be fooled by this creep. I remember saying to her, 'you guys deserve
each other.' Then I got back in the car, we left, and the accident happened."

Tears roll down Morgan's cheeks. She says,
"If only I'd called my mom on my cell phone and told her about Jason, and
then refused to get in the car, my sister, Jason, and your dad would still be
alive." She reaches into the side pocket of her wheelchair and pulls out a
tissue. Wiping her eyes, she finally moves her gaze to mine. "Every day,
when I wake up, I'm haunted by what I said to my sister about her and Jason deserving
each other." She blots her eyes again. "They didn't deserve to
die."

With tears in my own eyes, I clasp both her
hands in mine. "It's not your fault," I whisper.

Her eyes never waver from mine. "And it's
not yours, either. That's why I told you what happened. While you were confiding
in me, I suddenly saw how we've both blamed ourselves. You were angry and made
a decision at the height of your anger that had a terrible outcome, but had you
known, you wouldn't have made that choice. Your heart was pure. There was no
ill motive."

She extricates one of her hands and reaches to
cup my cheek. "When I understood that about you, I understood the same thing
applied to me. And then I thought that if I could forgive you, I could forgive
myself." She smiles slightly and whispers, "Forgiving you is easy."

I lift one hand and cover hers cupping my cheek.
With my other hand, I stroke her hair. Then I whisper three words. "I love
you."

She responds with two words, "Kiss
me."

I lean forward and our lips touch. Time stops,
heartaches stop, recriminations stop, secrets stop, and when the kiss ends, time
resumes without the baggage of the past.