“Ouch.” He sucked a breath between his teeth.
I jumped off but he caught my wrist with a laugh. “I’m just kidding,” he said. “Sit down.”
My heart was in my throat, and it had been so long since I’d been a part of one of Jeff’s “adventures” that I’d forgotten this was how I always felt during them—on the verge of panic.
I sat anyway, putting one arm around his shoulder and my other awkwardly propped behind me, holding on to the armrest. Beads of sweat were forming along my upper lip as I imagined careening off the sidewalk and re-injuring Jeff all over again. His mom was going to kill me.
He reached down to the right, undoing the wheel lock. “Okay, Lisa, give us a shove.”
She reached for the handles and gave me one last look as if asking me if I really wanted to do this. I closed my eyes and nodded. I felt the wheelchair lurch forward. Then I opened my eyes so I could see if at any point I would need to jump off. “You’re dead to me,” I mumbled to Jeff.
He just wrapped an arm around my waist and laughed.
When we started to pick up speed Jeff’s laugh tapered off into a nervous chuckle. That didn’t help my already active imagining of how this would end. As if on cue, we reached the flat section of the sidewalk and hit a bump that made the wheelchair catch a half second of air. We landed, our heads smashing together. The chair finally stopped when it hit a patch of grass at the very edge of the sidewalk.
“Are you okay?” I asked, jumping off his lap and examining his head where mine had collided against it.
“I’m fine. I have a hard head.”
My temple throbbed but I resisted the urge to reach up and rub it. I hoped it didn’t bruise or swell. I must have succeeded in playing it off because he didn’t ask if I was hurt.
Lisa came running down after us. “Are you okay?” she asked. I thought she was looking at Jeff, but she was asking me.
“I’m fine. It’s fine.”
Jeff put his hands in the air. “Push me back up. It’s your turn, Lisa.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said. Surely a guy who just had a head injury shouldn’t take this risk.
“You’re ruining the fun,” he said.
I tried to think if anyone had ever said no to Jeff’s exploits before his accident. He was always suggesting crazy adventures and we always went along, my anxiety in tow.
“I’ll push you on the swing,” I suggested again.
“After one more trip with Lisa.”
And it went exactly like he wanted. First the trip down the hill, me standing at the top, my worry keeping them safe, then him and his wheelchair on the specially designed swing.
I could tell he was tired but it took another ten minutes for me to convince him we should head back.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in a while,” he said as we wheeled him back toward his room. “I don’t want it to end.”
“It’s not your last day of fun, Jeff,” I said. “There will be many more. You need to take it easy.”
“Yes, Mommy,” he said, but reached back and patted my hand.
I had felt like his mom for the last hour and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like being the one who had to speak reason, but someone needed to.
We made it back to his room, and delivered him back to his real mom and left.
CHAPTER 40
My mom was waiting in my room when I arrived home.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.
She tilted her head, inspecting the side of my forehead. “What happened?”
“What?” I reached up and felt a swollen bump from where Jeff and I had collided. “Oh. Wheelchair games gone wrong. Where are Dad and Owen?”
“Indoor golf.”
“Is Owen mad at me? I haven’t had much time with him this week.”
“He’ll be fine. How are you, Autumn?”
“I’m okay.” Then decided to be honest because I knew she could tell. “A bit overstressed lately.”
“I thought so. Maybe it’s time to take a break. Take a couple of days off the hospital and friends and school. Just decompress at home.”
It did sound good, but it wouldn’t get me out of my head.
“You’ve been taking your medication, right?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t imagine how much worse I might feel without it right now. “I think most of this stuff is situational, and I’m hoping that when Jeff is out of the hospital things will feel right again.”
“You’re questioning your feelings for him?”
“I’m questioning everything.”
“There’s nothing wrong with thinking things through. But it’s important to make the decision that’s right for you.”
“He’s in the hospital.”
She smiled. “I know. And that makes you feel guilty. But regardless, you have to live your life, not his.”
“I know. Thanks, Mom.”
I unlaced my shoes and was stepping out of them as she headed for the door. “Oh,” I called after her. “Have you seen a book? Hamlet? I left it in the kitchen the day before yesterday.”