My grip on our laced fingers tightens as we walk up the driveway at my mom’s house. She has no idea we’re coming, which only seems fair since Cooper had no notice either. That he never complained or asked me why we’re going makes me fall a little deeper for this man.
“Mom?” I let myself in with a key.
“Kate, is that you?”
“Yes, Mom.”
She’s walking to greet me before I can tell her to stay put. “What a nice surprise. And you brought company.” She smiles.
“Why don’t you have your oxygen on, Mom?” I rush to the living room and grab her portable tank. The one she’s supposed to have on at all times.
“It was only off for a few minutes.” Mom rolls her eyes as I wrap the flexible plastic tubing that delivers her air back around her face.
“Well, aren’t you handsome,” she says to Cooper.
He smiles amused and walks to her. “Thank you, Mrs. Monroe. It’s nice to meet you.”
Typical Mom. No filter between her thoughts and her mouth. Although she can sometimes embarrass the hell out of me, it’s one of the things that I love about her most. “Mom, this is Cooper Montgomery. This is my mother, Lena Monroe.”
“Call me Lena,” she smiles at Cooper and he nods. “Are you a friend of Kate’s, Cooper?”
“I am.” Cooper looks at me, squints slightly, then adds. “Boyfriend.”
“Well, I’m glad Kate brought you around then. You must be pretty special. Kate doesn’t bring many men around.” My plan was to show Cooper why I’m doing what I’m doing, so it would be easier for him to understand as I head into the last few weeks of the show. I forgot Mom would alternate between interrogating Cooper and sharing embarrassing stories.
“What do you do for a living, Cooper?”
“Mom,” I politely warn. “We just got here. Why don’t you give Cooper at least ten minutes before you interrogate him? And where’s Kyle?”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. I make movies. I own a production company.”
“He’s in his room taking a nap. He gets tired after his therapy.” She turns to Cooper. “Are they adult films?”
Cooper chuckles. “No, ma’am. Regular mainstream movies. No adult films.”
“Do you have any children?”
“No children yet.”
“Do you play cards?”
“Once in while with some old friends.”
“Well, don’t play with my daughter. She’s a shark. Just like her father.”
“I could have used that advice a few weeks ago.” Cooper smiles.
“Are you superstitious?”
“No. I don’t think I am.”
“Mom,” I warn because I know what’s coming next. “I’m not superstitious either.”
“Hmm … mmm,” she responds patronizingly to me, but leans in to whisper to Cooper, though I can hear every word. “If I was a betting woman, I’d bet there was a four-leaf clover still tucked behind her license in her wallet. And a lucky penny hidden somewhere too.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes, but never deny my mother’s accusation. She peppers Cooper with questions for another fifteen minutes until Kyle yells from his room. I excuse myself and go to help my brother into his chair.
Kyle is a quadriplegic. Five years ago I picked him up from a soccer game on a sunny Friday afternoon in May. His team had won, Dad was on a winning streak, and I was about to move into my first apartment with Sadie. Life was good, the future was looking even better. Driving down the highway that connects Malibu to Santa Monica, the radio was blaring and Kyle laughed at my attempt to sing along in tune with Gwen Stefani. His smile is the last thing I remember from the thirteenth of May.
Later that night, a policeman explained to me what happened. A surfboard dislodged from the top of a Volkswagen Rabbit and went sailing into the windshield of the car behind it. The driver swerved, lost control of the car, and veered into oncoming traffic. And head on into us. Somehow I walked away with only a broken arm and a few cuts and bruises. My brother wasn’t so lucky—he never walked again—paralyzed from the neck down.
The first few years were really rough. Kyle was a 14 year old trapped inside a cage of a body that would never set him free. I, on the other hand, was free to move about, while my mind was caged with guilt over being the one who got to walk away. I was the driver, what if I had swerved faster? Did the blaring music distract me? No matter what the witnesses said, I needed to replay that night over and over in my mind in order to know for sure it wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t remember a thing. Every time I tried, I saw my smiling face singing. Then I woke up in the hospital. Being told the news of Kyle’s condition replayed over and over in my head, taking the place of what I couldn’t remember.
Until recently there was no prospect of recovery … but a new drug running in a clinical trial has given him a modicum of hope. Some early studies have shown that certain rehabilitation programs increase the effectiveness of the drug. I spend a few minutes with Kyle before helping him into his chair and we both return to the living room.
“My sister either thinks you’re superman or she doesn’t like you very much … leaving you alone with Mom,” my brother says as Cooper walks over to meet him.
“My cape’s in the car.” Cooper smiles. “Nice to meet you, Kyle.”
“You too.”
“Check this out.” Kyle’s eyes point toward his feet. Two toes wiggle. It’s not much, but we’re able to see it.
“Oh my god, Kyle! That’s amazing! What did the doctor say?”
“They said not to get my hopes up. I can see their advice is lost on deaf ears with you too.” He grins.
“Do it again.” I say and he does. He moves his toes again on command. My brother tries hard to act like it’s not that big of a deal, but we both know it’s huge.
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since the day your fat head came into this world.” Bending down, I plant a kiss on my brother’s forehead.
“Dude.” My brother looks to Cooper for help. “You gotta make her stop kissing me.”
Cooper smiles. “Not sure I’m much help there. I like when she kisses me.”
“Gross.”
We all sit around and talk for an hour. Cooper talks sports with Kyle, and Mom and I catch up on her updates from Kyle’s doctors. The conversation between the two men grows a bit heated when Cooper mentions he’s a Raiders fan, rather than a Chargers enthusiast. Sitting back in my chair, I silently watch as the two argue over statistics and players. Most people are uncomfortable around Kyle. They don’t want to upset him—pity stops them from disagreeing with anything he is saying, even if he’s dead wrong.
But not Cooper, he treats Kyle like a regular nineteen-year-old kid. I didn’t bring him here with the intent of observing his interaction with my brother, yet the simplicity of what I see speaks volumes about the complexity of this amazing man.
I lose track of time, spending hours more than I’d planned. Cooper’s quiet in the car on the way back. “My brother liked you.”
“Don’t think he liked my taste in sports teams.”
“Well, your taste sort of does suck.”
“I’ve been reconsidering my loyalties anyway.”
“Why is that?”
“Didn’t really see the appeal of the Chargers before you.”
“And now you do?” I eye him suspiciously.
“First time I met you, you were wearing a Chargers t-shirt.”
“I was?”
“Pink, with a gold lightning bolt. Jeans with a tear at the left knee and right thigh. Black flip-flops.”
Inwardly, my peacock feathers fan that he remembers so many details, but I don’t let him know it. “Not sure we want such an easy-to-flip fan on our side of the bleachers.”
“That didn’t take long.” I hear the smile in his voice, but his eyes stay on the road. “You’re back to being difficult I see.”
I ignore his comment. “My mom liked you too.”
“Mothers love me.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“I’d much rather be filling you.” He winks at me and shifts the gear into fourth as he merges onto the highway. Even the way the man handles the gear shifter hints at how good he is in bed. He controls the car like he does everything else in his life. With unwavering authority.