RUNAWAY ROSE
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Instinctively, Will caught Deborah as her
legs, never to be strong, collapsed under her. Her held her close, knowing that
he had just witnessed a miracle. Deborah, confined to a wheelchair for the past
eleven years, had walked through the door to meet him.
Jack and Rose stared at them, their eyes
wide. For how long had Deborah practiced in order to be able to walk those few
steps? Then Rose’s face broke into a smile, and she rushed forward, hugging her
best friend, who had just done the impossible.
Jack was no less impressed. He had had to
learn to walk again himself after he recovered from the polio, and knew how
much work it took to be able to recover from paralysis enough to walk. It was
even harder for victims of spinal cord injuries to relearn how to walk than it
had been for him. Few were able to, and even fewer relearned this skill so many
years after the injury. Deborah had indeed been blessed.
Deborah clung to Will, sobbing with joy and
relief. Of all the things that could have happened, she had never thought he
would show up on the Hockleys’ doorstep, looking for her. She didn’t know how
he had come to be sent home, nor did she care. The important thing was that he
was back.
Will steadied his wife, covering her face
with kisses, paying no attention to the two people watching them. He had never
wanted to leave her, and now that he was back, he never would again.
At last, Will lifted Deborah and set her back
in her wheelchair. Those few steps she had taken were all she would be able to
accomplish, but it was more than either had ever thought possible. Deborah
wiped her eyes, casting Will a broad smile, as she turned to look at Jack and
Rose.
"Will, this is Jack Dawson—Rose’s new
husband. Jack, this is my husband, Will Hutchison." Suddenly remembering,
she handed Jack his walking stick back, then looked back at her husband, her
eyes alight with joy. "Will..."
They were interrupted by a little voice.
"Mommy?" Grace spoke uncertainly. She had sneaked away from the
butler to see what was going on. Dashing down the hall, she called louder.
"Mommy!" Then she saw Will. "Daddy!" she shrieked,
launching herself at her father.
Will caught her, sweeping her up in his arms.
"Grace!"
"I thought you weren’t coming
back."
"I am back, sweetie. I won’t be going
away again."
"Good." She gave her father a kiss
on the cheek, then squirmed around to see her mother. "Mommy! Daddy’s
home!"
"I know he is, Grace. I know. Isn’t it
wonderful?"
Will set Grace down, looking up as the butler
walked into the foyer, looking distressed at losing sight of the three-year-old
escape artist. Baby Nathan was cradled awkwardly in his arms.
"James, thank you for watching
them." Rose’s eyes sparkled. "Lori will take care of them now."
She nodded to the maid, who was hurrying down the hall, attracted by the
commotion.
"Go with Lori now, Grace," Deborah
told her. "We’ll all be together later, all right?"
"All right, Mommy." Grace followed
Lori reluctantly, looking back every few steps at her parents.
"Will..." Deborah began again.
"When...how...did you come back?" Her eyes took on an anxious look,
fearing that he had been hurt. He didn’t appear to be injured, but looks could
be deceiving.
"Why don’t we all sit down
somewhere?" Will asked. He handed his bags to James, who nodded and took
them towards the stairs.
"That’s a good idea," Rose agreed.
"I’ll show you where the parlor is."
When they were all comfortably seated in the
parlor, Will began his story.
"How did you get sent home, Will?"
Deborah asked again. "Are you all right? How long have you been
back?"
"I’m fine," he told her. "Your
father pulled a few strings to get me sent home. I know that many people wouldn’t
approve, but I was glad to go. There were a few times when I didn’t think I’d
get home, so when I got the notice that I was to be sent home, I was more than
relieved."
"I don’t care if it’s right or
wrong," Deborah told him. "I’m just glad you’re home. I’ve missed you
so much."
"I’ve missed you, too," he told
her, looking at her lovingly. "I think that’s why I was sent home. Your
father never could deny his little girl anything, even if getting it required
breaking a few laws and greasing the right palms."
"And so he got you to come home to
me." Deborah’s eyes softened. "Will, I’m so glad."
He stood, lifting her from the wheelchair and
setting her in his lap. "I got back to the United States ten days ago. I
sent a letter that I was coming home..."
"But I was here, so I didn’t get it. I
was so worried—I hadn’t heard from you in so long."
"I’m all right, Debbie. I’m back
now." He paused, then went on. "I took the train to San Francisco
after the ship docked, and then turned around and went to Philadelphia. I
couldn’t wait for you to come home." He looked at her. "And what
about you? What’s happened while I was gone? You’ve learned to walk again. I
never thought you would..."
"I never did, either. I don’t know if I
will ever be able to walk more than a few steps, but I’ve learned not to assume
I know what the future will hold." She embraced him, then looked at Jack
and Rose. "For several years now, I’ve slowly been able to feel more and
more. Never much, but enough to let me know that things were slowly healing, if
only a little. A few months ago, I realized that I had a little feeling in my
hips. I could even move them a little, and my legs could move a little with
them. It wasn’t until August, though, that I began to try to walk again. I have
Jack Dawson to thank for that, in more ways than one. Years ago, he drew me at
the Santa Monica Pier, sitting in my wheelchair, and told me that I should
never give up. I never forgot those words. Then Rose came to San Francisco in
August, and Jack followed a couple of days later. Rose had told me that he had
been sickened in the polio epidemic in New York last year, and he confirmed it.
"And yet, even with everything that had
happened, he had gone on with life, learned to walk again. If someone who had
been through so much could do it, I could at least try. I bought leg braces and
crutches, and practiced every day, exercising my legs until they grew stronger.
I had to use my hands to move them at first, but after a while they were strong
enough to move a little on their own. Then I started teaching myself to walk
again, wearing the leg braces and leaning on the crutches. At first, it was all
I could do to stand, supporting my weight on a table, but one day I leaned on
the crutches and didn’t fall. The next day, I took my first step in eleven
years. I still can’t move my knees, or feel anything besides my hips and a few
toes, but the braces helped. I wanted you to be the first to know what I had
accomplished, when you came home," she told Will.
"Thank you, Debbie. I never thought I’d
see you walk. That you healed this much is a miracle. Maybe, someday, you’ll be
able to do more."
"Maybe." Deborah smiled. "I
don’t try to predict the future anymore. It’s enough to live through each day,
taking each moment as it comes." Her smile widened, and she leaned closer
into Will’s embrace, kissing him, unmindful of the other couple in the room as
she welcomed him home.
Jack and Rose watched them, smiling. They had
witnessed a miracle, and the joy of reunion. Few were so blessed as William and
Deborah Hutchison.
Except, perhaps, Rose and Jack Dawson.