26
Ben watches the car disappear up the road, leans on his crutches and closes the door. Alex has taken Allie, Polly, and Bart into the village for last minute supplies for tomorrow and so Polly can have her hair done. When Alex pondered whether he should get a haircut or not, Ben threatened him with bodily harm resulting in an amused grin and a pointed look at his crutches.
God, it’s a relief to have some time alone, and just breathe. They’ve been fussing over him every five minutes all week, catching their breath at every movement and intake of breath. He knows they were frightened – hell he was frightened – but the constant attention is suffocating him. Besides he has things he needs to … test, without them hovering.
The first is taken care of, in the bedroom, as soon as he’s sure they’re gone. It’s all very well for Alex to say they’ll figure something out, Ben wants to be sure. Wants to be certain the injury doesn’t interfere with tomorrow night and give Alex an excuse to enforce restraint for another week. He tries to kneel on the bed. Nope, bad idea. Putting his weight on his thigh is unpleasant. Unpleasant enough to make him feel a wave of nausea ripple through him. Being on his knees is officially off the list. Lays on his back and tries to pull both legs up so his heels are against the back of his thighs. Also off the list because even going slow and using both hands to ease his injured leg into position, there’s an unnerving sensation that something is about to split. After reassuring himself that he has not in fact popped any stitches in his experiment so far – he can just imagine having to explain that to the resident nurse – he slides his feet down the bed and lays flat. No pain. No discomfort.
“We have a winner,” he tells the empty room. “Now let’s get down to business.”
Given that he has something else he needs to test, something that is likely to be more challenging than this, Ben doesn’t bother trying to draw things out. Thankfully a week of enforced abstinence and the memory of the night of Alex’s birthday assist in speeding things along and less than five minutes later, Ben has established everything functions just fine. Yes, there is some twinging in the muscles when he comes but nothing unbearable, nothing he can’t live with. There is a disconcerting quiver in his thigh after but it dissipates after a few minutes and, he reasons, if he has a glass of champagne before and a painkiller, he should be fine. He cleans himself up, washes his hands and, whistling, tucks his crutches back under his arms and goes to the kitchen for his second experiment.
If what Ben is about to try goes wrong, he’s in for some serious pain. Even if it doesn’t go wrong, Alex and Allie are not going to like the idea. Which, he thinks, might also result in pain. But, he’s going to try it anyway.
Before the shooting, the plan had been to have the ceremony on the beach, but even Ben knows he won’t cope with the sand now. So instead they’ll clear everything from the courtyard and open the doors from the living room and the kitchen and have it there. There will only be thirty people including the wedding party, so there’s more than enough room. Especially for Ben to maneuver with his crutches. Except Ben doesn’t plan using tomorrow.
Alex balked at the idea of a traditional ‘presentation’ component, arguing it reminds him too much of his father’s jibe about being the bride. They’ve decided instead to walk to the celebrant together, where Ally, Polly, Matt, and Claire will be waiting for them. Meg, will wait to one side with Bart, the rings attached to a ribbon around his collar, since aside from the fact that they both adore the kid, Meg’s the only person other than Alex that Bart will behave for. One word from Ben and Dork Dog does exactly as he pleases.
Ben frowns. If he wants to walk unassisted he needs to practice now and at least in the kitchen there are enough things to hold on to or grab if he loses his balance. Things to pull himself up on if something goes wrong. He leans the despised crutches against the table and puts his weight on the back of a chair. Takes a deep breath, shifts his weight to his left leg and tests his right. Unaware he has sunk his teeth into his lip, he limps the half dozen steps to the kitchen sink. It’s uncomfortable and he’s not sure he could do it for long but it’s not as painful as he’d feared. Without thinking he tries to spin on his right leg and pain bolts up his thigh.
“Fuck!” he groans, grabbing the bench.
When the pain finally recedes, he turns and limps back to the table, taking his time, focused only on staying upright. For several minutes, he limps back and forth until he feels more confident, before taking a deep breath and hobbling to the kitchen door. He pushes it open and takes a couple of steps outside. Once there he remembers Allie and Alex spent the morning moving furniture to the garage so the courtyard would be clear for tomorrow and after a moment’s consideration, he decides against trying to make it to the other side. If something goes wrong, there’s nothing to break his fall which will be the least of his problems when Alex gets home.
Back at the table he picks up the crutches again, slots them under his armpits, collects a bottle of water from the fridge and goes to the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, he wonders how he’s going to sell Alex on not using the crutches. An idea occurs to him and he pulls his phone out of his pocket to call Fiona.
#
He’s dozing under his book when the door opens a few hours later and Bart races past, stopping only to slurp Ben’s face once on his way. Allie follows, carrying several shopping bags and laughing over her shoulder at something Alex is saying. Ben smiles at the sound and sits up to see Alex in the doorway and is weirdly relieved to see his hair still touches his shoulders. With a flourish Alex waves Polly in. Ben’s eyes widen and laughter punches out of him. Her neon hair has been dyed into a vibrant rainbow.
“Couldn’t decide or making a point?” he asks her.
“Bit of both.”
“Well it’s certainly a statement.” He pulls himself up and reaches for his crutches. Alex leans over to help and Ben smacks his hand. “Will you please stop fussing?”
He does however accept a kiss.
“Have fun?” he asks.
“I think your mom bought every paper napkin in a ten-mile radius,” Alex whispers. “In every possible color.”
“Why?”
“Something about not ticking napkins on the catering order form and being worried they wouldn’t have any. I offered to call the caterers and check but she insisted it was easier to simply buy every napkin in San Cap.”
Ben laughs.
“Sounds like mom,” he says. “You look like you could use a cold drink and a back rub.”
“Make it a foot rub and you’re on,” Alex says holding the kitchen door open. “You’re in a good mood. What have you been up to?”
“Baby, I’m on fuckin’ crutches, what the hell could I get up to?”
#