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"It doesn't."

"You move better on them than he does. Poor guy keeps losing one and he won't let anyone help him either. How did you figure it out on your own with that hard head of yours?"

"Grace helped. She adjusted them so I could move easier."

"Is that right?"

I threw my head back and closed my eyes. He wasn't going to give it up.

"You want her right?" he inquired, almost too calmly.

"Doesn't matter."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Merrick. You can want someone. You can even move forward and
have
someone. Settle down with a family, get a job doing whatever you want. Hell, you could even take up knitting for all we care. But it's possible."

The air wasn't coming in smoothly anymore, my nose burning with the hard breaths I was pulling in and pushing out. If I opened my mouth, I would say something really stupid.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Why is this any of your business?" I snapped. "What makes you think any of that is what I really want?"

Micah's hand landed on my shoulder and stayed there until I could catch my breath. "Because it's what you wanted before, man, and it doesn't make you weak."

No. It doesn't make a man weak to want a future, but it makes him selfish when he had no future to give.

"Micah–"

"I've seen the way you are when she's close by. I see the way your face changes when someone says her name. Like a light turns on inside you and all the dark things you refuse to tell any of us about; they just fade away."

I held my breath, locking in the tautness of my jaw and gathering all the control I could possibly muster, just to stay silent.

"It's okay, Merrick. She sees it, too."

All I could do was sit there next to my little brother, blinking like a fool. "Excuse me?"

Micah sat forward with a huff. "I see her at the hospital on occasion, checking in. I've talked to her a couple times. You know, Grace and I used to be able to talk about a lot of things. When we were younger, I'd run into her all the time. But now, all she seems to focus on is you."

It wasn't the first time I'd heard this. According to my family, Grace Samuelson was very aware of me and maybe even had a crush on me back when we were younger. It actually surprised me. How? When I didn't even pay attention to her, how did she stay interested?

"She said she sees a change in you once in a while. Sees that light in your eyes. The same one that used to be there, back then."

"What else does she say about me?"

I knew he was smiling now, only making it more difficult to avoid smacking him in the head.

"Well, that's the problem. She's just like you these days. Keeps it all inside. But she can't hide it. Not really."

"Boys. Dinner's ready," Mom called.

We both stood and I maneuvered the crutches under my arms, bumping the coffee table in the process. Micah dropped his hand on my shoulder again, but instead of moving, we stood there in silence. Until I finally got the courage to say it.

"What was wrong with me back then, Micah? How did I not see her?"

He gave me a mirthless laugh. "You only saw what you wanted to see; what was right in front of you. We all did it, so don't feel bad." He slapped my shoulder and declared, "Maybe now's your chance to see the world differently."

I let out a harsh breath. "I
can't
see."

"No shit. You can't, but that doesn't mean you can't
try
."

Mom called for us again, this time a little impatiently. Micah's words didn't really hit me until later on, but when they did, I realized my brother was one of the smartest men I'd ever known.

We made our way to the dining room and my family waited while I got into my chair. Sam, Mary's husband, greeted me with a brief hug. I couldn't remember exactly what he looked like, but I'd always considered him a brother. He took care of my sister, that's what mattered.

Mitch patted me on the shoulder and cursed the inventor of crutches. We spoke quietly for a few minutes while Mom and Mary brought the food to the table.

"You look good, bro," Mitch said. "Sorry I bitched at you so much when you complained. I didn't realize how painful everything must have been. Not until now."

Mitch had been a trooper through this whole ordeal. Since the accident, he seemed calmer, a little more patient with everyone. The times I was able to visit with him, we'd actually grown a little closer. Another connection through suffering.

"It's good to be together," Dad said from the head of the table. "I don't know how long it's been, but it's nice to see all of your faces here tonight."

Mom sniffed and Dad whispered something to her that none of us could hear, not even me. It
was
good to be together, even if some of us were a little broken.

***

"Where're you two going?"

Dad had just informed all of us that he and Mom were leaving town the next day. I was the only one that seemed to care.

"Oh, just a short trip for a couple days," Dad replied. "Thought we would go see the Grand Canyon or something like that."

Or something like that?

Strange. Mom and Dad never went on a vacation during the week and they certainly never went without having a solid plan. It was very suspicious, but then again, it was none of my business what they did with their free time. I shrugged and dug into my food. They could go wherever they wanted. Mom needed a break anyway.

"You have an appointment when we get back. It's early on Friday with Dr. Samuelson," Mom reminded me.

I'd completely forgotten about the appointment. I hated going to the doctor, especially when it had to do with my eyes. That would explain why I hadn't been to him since I first got back.

"Is that necessary?" I asked.

"Yes, it is. You need regular exams, Merrick. You've skipped too many and I won't let you miss this one."

I'd somehow avoided seeing the eye doctor for the last several months. Grace's father wasn't happy about it, but he tried to be understanding. There were a lot of other things to worry about instead. Now, more than ever, I didn't want him checking my eyes.

"I'm blind, Mom. Regular exams won't change that."

Mom started to argue, but Dad stopped her. The two of them started talking quietly back and forth while the rest of us pretended not to listen.

Mary spoke up, her voice insistent. "Merrick, just go to the damn appointment. It's an hour tops out of your day."

Sam started to calm her. "Give him a break, babe."

"He doesn't need any more breaks. It's time to step up."

My older sister was getting more intolerant these days, but even though Mitch and Micah started arguing in my defense, she was right. It took absolutely nothing for me to go to an appointment. I knew what to expect and it wouldn't change anything.

And Grace's father was counting on me to be compliant. It was the least I could do.

"I'll go," I said loudly, silencing their rising voices. "I'll go, Mom. Jeff has gone out of his way to take care of me. I don't want to let him down."

Silence.

Mitch attempted to cover up his chuckle, but since he was sitting next to me, I heard it clear as day. My elbow found his side, only making him laugh harder.

"It's early in the morning. Before Grace comes over," Mom said. "He opened an earlier appointment just for us."

"That's fine."

"Will you be alright while we're gone?"

"Yes, Mom. Grace will be there."

I didn't realize what I'd said until the table was silent once more and I felt heat rise in my cheeks. Could I be any more transparent? The easy acceptance of needing someone to help me was certainly a surprise for my family, but it was more of a surprise for
me
.

The smile in Mitch's voice was unmistakable. "Grace will take good care of him, Mom. Don't you worry."

I swung my arm to the side and felt the impact of my hand against Mitch's side.

"Oomf! Hey, what the fuck was that for?"

"Language," Dad shouted.

This time, it was me that attempted to cover up the chuckle. Micah didn't even try. His booming laughter made it impossible to hold in my own.

"I swear you boys never change," Mary chimed in with her own laugh.

"I was just pointing out the obvious," Mitch added. "He's obviously in lo–
OW
! God damn it!"

"Mitchell, I won't tell you again," Dad said, a little less authoritative. He, too, was holding in the laughter.

"You all see it, don't you?" Mitch continued. "He's changed since Grace came into the picture."

"Shut it, Mitch. Leave the man alone," Micah ordered to my surprise.

For several minutes, only the sound of silverware scraping plates could be heard. I'd never wanted to run away more than I did right then. Mom's curiosity was almost palpable. I didn't need to see her to know she was probably shaking with it.

"She's a wonderful girl, Merrick."

"Yeah, she is."

"Have you thought about–"

"No."

"Why not?"

Not only was it the very worst time to bring up whether or not I ever thought about dating again, but it just couldn't happen.

"It's just not possible, Mom."

"I don't understand," she said. "You have as much right as anyone else to–"

"I said no. Just ... please. I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay, son," she mumbled.

I dropped my fork onto my plate and started to stand. The crutches crashed to the floor when I moved my chair and I struggled to find them. By the time they were positioned under my arms, I was ready to explode.

"I'm tired. Can someone please drive me home?"

I slowly moved out of the dining room, bumping into a wall on my way. It was a miracle I didn't do more damage. I couldn't focus on anything but getting the hell out of there just to avoid the conversation I knew was coming eventually.

Five minutes later, I was seated in the passenger seat of my father's truck, feeling that cold shiver run up and down my spine with every bump in the road.

I hated being on the road, period. It was so much worse knowing it was dark outside and not being able to see a damn thing. I gripped the handle on the door and timed my breaths, keeping them even and long. Another thing Grace taught me.

"Your mother just wants you to be happy, son."

I laid my head back on the seat and sighed, relaxing my hand slightly so the audible cracking of the door liner would stop. "I know, Dad. She just doesn't understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"I can't make Grace happy."

"Who the hell told you that was up to
you
?"

Focusing on the conversation was helping me avoid the thoughts about what was out on the road. I kept telling myself that I was in Morgan, Utah. There weren't bombs waiting for us at every corner. No dead animals lying on the road with explosives hidden inside.

"Who says she even wants me that way? She's my nurse. She's just doing her job," I stated.

"That's not the point, son."

"Then what is?"

"The fact that you've given up before you've even started," he barked, making me flinch in my seat. "It doesn't have to be Grace, although I'll tell you right now you won't ever do better than Grace Samuelson. It's that you keep thinking you're broken enough to be a burden when the truth is, you're still you. Just a little cracked."

"She deserves better, Dad. I've got issues that haven't even begun to die down. I can't even sleep at night without knocking something over. I'm angry. I'm tired. I don't have very much to give."

Dad sighed as he made a sharp turn. The truck bounced a little more than normal and I sat up straighter, every muscle in my body tightening. Waiting for the force of an explosion.

It never came.

The truck just rolled to a stop and Dad shut it down. "Grace was never the kind of girl to worry about something so superficial, Merrick," he explained. "She saw deeper than anyone else."

I turned my head and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When you two were younger, that girl used to wait for you. To see you any chance she got," he chuckled. "She
saw
you, Merrick. Not the kid that was popular and played sports or had everyone in the palm of his hands. She saw the boy that felt and cared about more than himself. She saw the boy that eventually ended up joining the military because he wanted to protect his country."

She saw me. And what was I doing?

"She saw you all the time and you never saw her," he added, twisting the knife a little deeper.

"You're right."

"I'm always right, my boy, but I used to be like you kids. When I met your mother, I was terrified. What could I give a woman like that? I was just a kid with dreams that seemed further and further from my grasp. I was still in school and didn't have a plan. But it wasn't my decision."

I waited. He'd never told me any of this before. Mom and Dad always seemed to have their shit together better than anyone else. We all thought they just saw each other and that was it.

"She chose me, by some miracle, knowing I was just ... me. After we got married, I was just a banker. Still am. I give other people money, doesn't mean I have any of my own. But she stayed with me because that's what love is." He took a deep breath and blew it out in a rush. When he spoke again, he was smiling. "When she looked at me, she didn't see perfection or some big fancy love story. She saw someone who would protect her and fight for her. Someone who would love her in spite of any flaws she
thought
she had. It didn't matter what was in front of her, because I was standing behind her. That's how she knew I was the one."

"Dad ..."

"And you know what? None of that relies on a pair of eyes that don't work anymore. So, yes, Merrick. I'm right. You didn't see her before, but maybe now you finally do."

My heart raced and my hands started to sweat. The sharp knife in my chest started to retreat.

"The question is," he continued wearily. "What are you going to do about it? Sit back and watch life pass you by? Or are you going to take life by the balls like you always did?"