Love's Awakening by Kelly Stuart Page A

thanks to his mother. The choice had come down to either the Shepherd Center in Atlanta or Pinewood. Pinewood won because of its proximity. Certainly not because of its costs. It cost about a third more than the Shepherd Center, but Shirley did not want David to be cared for at home. “My son needs to be where nurses and doctors can help at a moment’s notice,” Shirley stressed.
    And so David’s last night at the hospital had arrived. Tomorrow, Disney World! Pinewood! At least there would not be lines for the rides.
    Later that week, Richard and Shirley would move into a rental condo down the street from Pinewood. Celia had a hard time believing they had lived with her about four months. Wow. In some ways, she felt like they had moved in yesterday. In other ways, they were old roommates. Once they were out, Celia planned to start packing some of David’s things. Definitely his items in the bedroom.
    She decided to stay with David the last night at the hospital, although she was not sure why. Maybe to have a conversation, however one-sided. A conversation about forgiveness. About moving on. Divorce. David’s future, or lack thereof.
    “So, David,” she said. “About us. We’re over, were over before the wreck, but you knew that.”
    Nothing.
    “What do you want, David? What do you want, Karen Alice Hall? Do you want to die? Should I push to let you go now?”
    Nothing.
    Celia tried to sleep on the lumpy cot. She must have succeeded for at least a bit, because she awoke with a start. She checked her cellphone. Eleven-thirty, so the night yawned before her. Great. She went to the window. She drew the curtains back and pulled the blinds up. The moon scowled down, and a sense of foolishness overtook Celia. She had been stupid to expect some sort of closure, some sort of meteor shower that spelled out L-E-T M-E D-I-E or I A-M A-L-I-V-E.
    A whisper: “Hey.”
    Celia whirled around. Oliver, bathed in the moon’s rays.
    “I didn’t mean to scare you,” her stepson said. “Sorry.”
    Thump thump thump. “Oliver. Hey. It’s okay.”
    “I couldn’t sleep,” Oliver said. “Figured I’d come here. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed after I saw you, but…” Oliver shrugged. “I fell asleep right away in the chair. The hard, un-fucking-comfortable chair.”
    “Did I wake you up?”
    Oliver shrugged. “No biggie.”
    Celia poured herself and Oliver small glasses of water. The moon or a cloud shifted, leaving Oliver half in shadow. He was eerie, like a shape shifter.
    “How’s work?” Celia asked. “We haven’t talked in a while.” You never replied to my letter. Or, you haven’t replied…yet.
    “Work’s good.”
    “How about school? You in summer school?”
    “Summer school is over. But yeah, school is decent.”
    Oliver obviously was not in a talkative mood, and Celia’s shoulders ached. The day ahead weighed on her. Tottering mounds of paperwork, the monitoring. The worrying. The wondering. “Well, off I go,” Celia said brightly. “You need your time with your father.”
    “You stay. You belong in that cot. I don’t.”
    “I don’t belong in the cot, Oliver. I’m here to try to figure some answers. Make sure what your father would’ve wanted. Make sure I’m doing the right thing.”
    “Still—”
    “I’m leaving,” Celia said firmly. “The cot is yours. Okay?”
    “Fine,” Oliver mumbled.
    “Let’s do something soon, though, okay? I’ve missed you.”
    “Sure. Whatever.”
    Celia slung her purse over her shoulder.
    “Are Grandma and Granddad at the townhouse with Caleb?”
    “Yep.”
    Oliver stuck his hands into his pockets. “Do you want the keys to my place? You can stay there and get a good night’s sleep. A night to yourself.”
    “I look that bad, huh?”
    Oliver grinned. “No, no. See, it’s the least I can do for kicking you out.” He slid two keys off his key ring. “The orange one is for the front door. Blue one for my unit.”
    In other words, will you stay