I went into that appointment a wreck. I’m talking nerves, stress, and sleep deprivation so bad that the world seemed slightly unrealistic and weird. Because of that, I had less control of what came out of my mouth than usual, and the relief when I didn’t have someone sewing me back up after it made it even worse.
I’d walked out of the room holding my arm in the air like it was a championship trophy to where Garrett was sitting with Raoul and Rose and their newborn twins. They had a checkup appointment there that day, and when Rose found out I was at my one, she’d demanded that they find Garrett to keep him company. More like she wanted to see the end result…
Standing up, Garrett had walked over to hug me. “How does it feel?”
Holding it up to my face, I turned it around to look at it, wincing at how shriveled and pasty it looked. “It feels good to be free, but does it look a bit weird to you? Do you think it’ll stay this skinny for the rest of my life? Remember when Popeye ate spinach out of the can, and one arm would go muscly before the other one?”
All three of them snickered, but it was Rose who picked it up as we walked out and examined it. “No, you’ll get your spinach arms equal, girl, but you need to exercise it.”
All day it’d felt like I was walking through molasses and like the world was a surreal place, so I was not in a good place in my head still, even with the relief that I still had two arms. We were just walking into the waiting area when she said it, so all of the poor sick and injured people heard me shriek, “There’s a demon in there?”
Thankfully I was in the presence of two well-known P.V.P.D. members and a nurse because they were able to just smile and wave at everyone as they led me out of the building and into the parking lot like nothing was wrong. As we cleared the doors, Garrett pulled me in for a hug and rubbed my back.
“She didn’t mean exorcize a spirit or demon, baby. She was talking about doing exercises to build up the muscles again.”
Shit, I should’ve known that especially seeing as how I had four printed out pages of the things in my purse. I blamed a lack of sleep, the internet, and my irrational mind taking over from the rational one. Oh, and also Timmy the twat who couldn’t hold onto the saw correctly.
Swallowing loudly, I pulled back and nodded. I could’ve explained it all, but instead, I burst into tears.
“I’ve got a cheesy smelling gimpy arm. It used to look like this one,” I held up my left one, “which I wouldn’t mind being gimpy because it can’t do much. It’s useless. I don’t want it to smell like cheese, though.”
Leaning around his brother’s shoulder, Raoul looked down at my skinny limb. “Huh, kinda does look gimpy.”
Lifting it, I stuck it under his nose. “Smell it. Cheddar, right?”
Most people would’ve backed away, but curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned in to sniff it. “More like Roquefort. Jesus that needs to be washed. Maybe try bleach.”
Those words were a blow to my heart that felt like it was going to fly out of my chest still. Pressing my face into Garrett’s chest, I started crying even harder.
“I k-k-knew it. I should’ve let him cut it off when he dropped the electric saw. T-t-the people on the internet said it could happen.”
It’s probably not a surprise to admit that I was banned from looking shit up like that. For the person who loved weird and random facts, it was a huge blow, but the isolation and stress of the last two years had obviously had an impact on me mentally. At least, that’s what I figured when I got home, and Garrett rationalized it all for me.
I’d started working on myself the next day on my first day at work—after sixteen hours of sleep—and slowly but surely, I was getting a better grip on my mental health and my strength. What was weird was that I didn’t struggle when it came to the kids, but sometimes it's easier seeing something for other people than it is for yourself.
“Stop thinking so deeply,” Garrett murmured, snapping me out of my thoughts as we waited for Clyde to stop pooping in a patch he’d decided on in the woods. “This is meant to be a relaxing experience.”
“I was just thinking about my cheesy arm,” I chuckled, pulling on two pairs of disposable gloves and getting a bag ready.
This was another area we’d worked on—poop. It seemed to have dominated way too much of our time, but finally, we knew what we were doing. Shit literally did happen, but it happened less if you didn’t mess around with a dog’s diet. Clyde was on one brand of dog food, and we were all much happier for it. Sheena also had a sensitive stomach, so the pediatrician had cut out certain foods from it, which meant no more accidents there either.
Snickering, he looked around us and then straightened up. “Nope, I can’t do it,” he clipped, snatching the bag out of my hands. “I need to show you what I’ve done.”
Poor Clyde had only just come out of his poop crouch, so his moment of relief ended when he felt the tension coming off his master. With an almost scooping motion, Garrett had the poop in the bag and was pulling me with his free hand back to the vehicle, Clyde walking close to my side.
I wasn’t exactly unfit, but I also wasn’t fit enough to jog through the cold air and not suffer as a result, which was why I was panting when we got to the truck. “What do you mean what you’ve done?”
Throwing the bag in the bed of the truck, he unlocked the doors and opened mine and Clyde’s. “In you go. I wanted to show it to you after we’d had a walk—when you’re exhausted,” he whispered to himself. “I’m nervous and excited, but I think you’ll like it.”
As he rounded the front of the truck, I belted myself in and looked in the back of the cab to see Clyde watching Garrett with a frown. “Think he’s got a guilty conscience about something, bud?”
Obviously he couldn’t answer, but that didn’t matter because Garrett had his door open and was in his seat with the engine running in seconds.
He was just about to reverse out of the space when he slammed his hands down on the wheel. “Okay, they broke ground on our house. There, that’s the secret.”
“We have a house?”
He’d bought the plot of land that he’d told me about after I’d fallen in love with it, but as far as I knew, we hadn’t picked a house yet. Had we?
“You kept going back to the one kit, so I ordered it with the additions you said you loved. It’s only the house itself, so all of the kitchen, bathrooms, and interiors are up to you to pick.”
That was so freaking cool!
Eyeing me cautiously, he noted, “You’re not pissed.”
This remark shocked me more than his revelation. “Should I be?”
“I don’t know. I had the contractor working on laying the foundations after it all went through before it hit me that I hadn’t told you what I was doing,” he blurted, sweeping his hand through his dark hair.
“I kept meaning to, but then I’d look at the list of things you said you wanted the house to have structurally and got excited watching the 3D image of how it would look change on the screen. Then they laid the foundations, the kit was delivered, they unpacked it…” he trailed off and swallowed awkwardly, just as Clyde stuck his nose through the gap between the seats. “It’s cool, buddy. Just me digging myself out of a hole.”