Kentucky Sunrise by Fern Michaels

disabilities. According to her mother, they were fighters and did everything they could to the limit their bodies would allow. They were both incredibly thin with stick-like legs and arms, their hands crooked and deformed. Sunny used a hook to move the lever on her chair while Harry still had some mobility in his right hand and could maneuver his chair with relative ease.
    â€œThe arthritis . . . I guess you could say it sort of crept up on me,” Emmie said, referring to Sunny’s first question. “I suppose I was in denial, and I sure didn’t do myself any good. What you’re seeing is the result of that denial. They have me on a regimen of this and that but even I know I need rehab. I hate this chair. I’m used to going full tilt but I can’t even stand up now. It just came on that quick. It grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. As to the porch, I used to spend a lot of time out here when I was younger. It’s Mom’s favorite spot on the whole farm. All the flowers and the plants are new and so is the fresh paint. In honor of all of you. I let everything die so it all had to be replaced. Everything just got away from me. Do you understand what I’m saying? My God, how do you two do it?” The tears in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Sunny and Harry. She couldn’t have stopped them even if she wanted to.
    Sunny giggled, and Harry smiled. “Very carefully,” Sunny said. “Like you, I was in denial. When I found out I had MS, I went berserk. I was always a tomboy. I could beat both my brothers at everything. Then it all stopped, and I was lucky I could hobble around. I made everyone’s life pretty miserable for a long time. I was married at the time, and my husband couldn’t handle it so he left me. He didn’t want the kids either, so my brother took over and later adopted them when I moved into the center permanently. It was the best thing for everyone.”
    Emmie wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. “I think it would kill me if I had to leave my daughter with someone else to raise. That bothers me more than my actual condition. It bothers me that I might not be able to raise her myself. I’m not used to sitting around either. It’s just all so new, and I have to adjust. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
    Sunny looked at her husband. “This is one of those rare times in life that you’re going to have to think of yourself first. If there is even the slightest chance that rehab can make you reasonably whole, you have to go for it. Your child will survive. I didn’t think my kids would, but they did, and so will your daughter. Your first step is believing that.”
    â€œI hate this chair!” Emmie blurted for the second time.
    â€œI hate it more than you,” Sunny said vehemently.
    â€œI hate it worse than both of you,” Harry said.
    An easy familiarity developed for the threesome as the morning wore on. Sunny and Harry regaled Emmie with tales of their adventures in snowy Vermont and then with their participation in a survival course for handicapped people.
    â€œOh, look, here comes my son Jake. Before, Emmie, when we were talking about what was best for the kids, Jake was always okay with me in this chair. He would wipe my mouth if I was drooling, he’d clean up if I spilled something, and he would always wear a smile. Unfortunately for both him and me, we seem to have some bad genes. He has that disease where he didn’t grow properly. He couldn’t wait to get here. He’s thinking he might want to become a jockey.”
    â€œMom! You have to come down to the paddock to see the horses! They’re awesome.” Jake turned to Emmie, stretched out his hand, then noticed her swollen and puffy fingers. He dropped to his knees and placed his hands on top of hers. “I’m Jake Thornton. Sunny’s my mom. Guess you know that. I’m so glad to meet you.