Page 69 of On the Bright Side
Over the course of the next few weeks, as my parents feel assured enough by my slow recovery, Dad returns to work and Mom picks back up her usual routine, leaving me with a lot of time to sit alone with everything that’s happened. And it eats away at me.
I’ve got more questions than answers. No one knows what my future is going to look like. No one can guarantee that I won’t end up in a wheelchair. No one can assure me that my body won’t give out on me and create limitations I might not know how to tackle. No one knows anything with absolute certainty.
You know who might understand this better than I do right now? Ellie. She’d know something about disabilities and diagnoses and have all the right things to say. For the first time in what feels like ages, I send her a text, feeling a skip of guilt as I scroll past the couple unanswered messages she’d sent while I’ve been gone this past month.
JACKSON:
Hey, any chance you could come over for a visit soon? Maybe after school Friday?
It’s a school day. But she replies about a half hour later during a passing period.
ELLIE:
How have you been??? I’ve been thinking about you all the time. Sorry, I have a shift that day. Does Saturday work?? I could drive over whenever. Anytime.
She started a new job? Or did she always have one? No, she would’ve mentioned that before. So much has changed in so little time.
JACKSON:
Okay cool, let me know if you need the address again
ELLIE:
I think I’ve got it. I hope you’re doing okay.
I’m a little nervous for her to see me like this, since I’m still so slow and sluggish and tripping over words, not to mention using a cane.
But my desire for her company outweighs all that anxiety. I’ve got a couple more days to pull myself together—emotionally, at least.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Ellie
Wednesday after schoolis my first shift at the ACC library. It’s a straightforward job, and it really helps that Izzy is the one training me. Along with Alex and Shay, she’s also given me a tour of ACC, and it already feels more like my school than Amber does, mainly because the three of them are there.
After work, I stop by the Deaf house to drop off a few more small bags of stuff. Only Kayla and I haven’t moved in yet. I’ve been drawing out the process over several days, making sure to bring things with Cheese’s scent on them so that he’ll be comfortable.
In the living room, Shay unrolls a large Deaf pride poster with splashes of bright colors and ASL iconography, and hangs it above the fireplace.
“That’s cool,” Alex signs. “Where’d you get it?”
“Do you remember E-t-h-a-n?” Shay motions a time way back. “At that party we went to in N-Y-C. Short, wild hair.”
Izzy remembers. “Right! The guy who works at that summer camp near Chicago?”
“Yes! I followed him on IG, and he shared this website with a lot of different posters and T-shirts for sale.”
I put my old Brandview nameplate on the inside of my bedroom door. Will Kayla bring hers, too? It’ll be just like old times. This blue bedroom is so empty, but with two of us living here, I’m sure we’ll make use of every little bit of space.
Kayla managed to figure everything out on her end, too, and will be moving in next week. She told her parents, and surprisingly they were okay with it as long as she comes home for dinner after school most nights. I can’t imagine my parents reacting that well to the news, which is why I’m waiting until the last possible minute to tell them.
Friday night, after my second library shift, I finalize my move into the Deaf house. I can’t wait to tell Jackson about this tomorrow. I’ve been worried about how Cheese will do, but he’s settling in just fine, exploring the mostly empty rooms in search of bugs to toy with.
Shay, Izzy, and Alex get back from a trip to Ikea. They borrowed Shay’s cousin’s pickup truck to haul the boxes. I asked them to pick me up the cheapest bedframe and mattress they could find, which is going to eat up most of my first paycheck—when I finally get paid in another week—but it’s allmine. Even if all my furniture’s unassembled.
“Building night!” Shay signs as we drop the boxes off in my room.
Alex carries in a tall, rolled-up rug that’s puzzle-patterned with neon colors. She unfolds it and uses some of the boxes to flattenthe ends. “Rugs are expensive, dang. This is the best thing I’ve ever thrifted. No one spill anything on this!”
