"The Barefoot Boy Who Helped My Daughter Stand." Chapter 2
What She Never Told Him
Lily pulled the hem of her dress over her shoes.
Nathaniel had seen that movement a hundred times. He had always assumed she was cold.
"Is that true?" he asked.
Her eyes stayed on the lavender fabric.
"Sometimes they move."
"Since when?"
"I don't know."
"Lily, that's important. You should have told me. I would have called Claire. We could have arranged—"
He stopped because her face had crumpled.
Claire pulled a chair closer instead of opening her medical bag.
"Let's slow down. Nothing needs to be arranged this minute."
Charles stood by the mantel, one hand gripping the carved stone.
"Surely this means the original diagnosis was wrong."
"It means we need to reassess what Lily can do now," Claire said. "Tonight doesn't erase her injuries or tell us what will happen next."
Nathaniel barely heard the rest. His daughter was crying without making a sound.
He crouched in front of her.
"Why didn't you want me to know?"
She rubbed beneath one eye with the heel of her hand.
"Because you get excited."
He could not answer.
"Then there's another appointment," she continued. "And everybody watches my legs. When I can't do it again, you get quiet in the car."
"I'm not angry with you."
"I know. You're sad."
Across the room, Noah studied a loose thread on his sleeve.
Nathaniel had sold the company he loved building so he could stop traveling. He had learned every medication name, slept beside every hospital bed, and replaced the steps outside Lily's room with a ramp before she came home.
He had believed his daughter knew what all that meant.
Apparently she had learned to watch his face instead.
The door opened, and a woman in a kitchen apron hurried inside.
"Noah Bennett, I've been looking everywhere."
Noah straightened.
"I'm here, Mom."
"I can see that. Mrs. Bell said something happened."
Her gaze found Lily's chair, then Nathaniel on the rug. Rachel Bennett's face went pale.
"I'm sorry. He was supposed to wait in the courtyard."
"Your son helped my daughter stand," Nathaniel said.
Rachel looked at Noah.
"You did what?"
"She held the chair. I didn't pull her."
Rachel pressed her lips together. Then she turned back to Nathaniel.
"Is she hurt?"
"She says she isn't."
"I'm not," Lily insisted.
Claire introduced herself and asked Lily's permission before checking her legs. While she worked, Rachel sat Noah beside her on the sofa. She put a hand over his dusty foot, inspecting a small scrape near his toe.
Nathaniel noticed the apron string coming apart at her waist. He wondered how much of her evening she had spent worrying about a pair of wet shoes.
"Why did you think she might be able to stand?" Claire asked Noah.
He glanced at his mother.
Rachel sighed. "You can tell her."
"I fell off a roof when I was six. My uncle was fixing it. I climbed up after he went to lunch."
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"You were six?" Lily asked.
"I thought I was helping. I wasn't."
Rachel's hand closed around his ankle.
"He broke his pelvis and his leg," she said. "There were months in the hospital. Afterward, getting him moving again took a long time."
Noah looked at Lily.
"Even when the doctors said the bones were healing, I could still hear the roof breaking. I'd try to get up and feel like I was falling again."
Lily stopped rubbing her eyes.
"I hear the car."
The room went still.
Nathaniel felt the rug through the knees of his dress pants.
Three years earlier, rain had driven across the Hudson Valley hard enough to close roads. His wife, Amelia, had been in the back of a car with their six-year-old daughter when the driver lost control near an old stone bridge.
Amelia had died before help arrived. Lily had spent nearly an hour trapped in the wreckage.
Nathaniel knew the official sequence. He could recite it without pausing.
He had never asked what his daughter heard.
"When do you hear it?" Claire asked gently.
"Sometimes when I'm trying to stand. Sometimes when something drops."
Nathaniel leaned forward.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart?"
Lily looked at him as if he had asked a very strange question.
"You don't like talking about that day."
Charles turned toward the fireplace.
Nathaniel remembered changing the subject when Lily asked where her mother's coat had gone. He remembered telling her they should think about happy things at bedtime. He remembered how relieved he had been when she stopped asking.
Noah shifted on the sofa.
"Mrs. Turner had a dog," he said.
Everyone looked at him.
"She lived downstairs from us. His name was Biscuit, and he was too fat to get up to our apartment. She asked if I wanted to help feed him."
Lily wiped her nose with the tissue Claire offered.
"Did you?"
"Not at first. There were three steps. I hated those steps."
"What happened?"
"I got to the bottom one eventually. He licked my whole face. His breath was terrible."
A small, surprised laugh escaped Lily.
Nathaniel had paid people for years to make her laugh like that.
"She didn't stand there telling me to walk," Noah said. "She just said Biscuit was waiting."
Lily looked down at her hands.
"Nobody's waiting for me."
"I'm here," Nathaniel said immediately.
"You're waiting for me to be how I was."
He felt Rachel look away, giving him a privacy the closed door had not provided.
Nathaniel took his daughter's hand. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, to list everything he had done. Instead, he watched her thumb worry the edge of the tissue.
"I miss seeing you happy," he said. "I think I got that mixed up with seeing you walk."
She searched his face.
"What if I never do?"
For a fraction of a second, he saw a future he had refused to picture. Lily older, still using her chair. School trips. Birthdays. Ordinary afternoons he had spent treating as temporary.
"Then I still want all the other things," he said. "Your jokes. Your terrible card tricks. Breakfast with you when you steal my toast."
Her mouth trembled.
"You always burn yours."
"Then you'll have to keep stealing the good pieces."
She leaned into him, and he held her without looking at her legs.
After a while, Rachel touched Noah's shoulder.
"We need to get your shoes and catch the bus."
Lily lifted her head.
"Can he come back?"
Nathaniel looked at Noah, then at his mother.
"If you'd both like that, I'll arrange a ride."
"We can discuss a visit," Rachel said carefully.
Noah nodded so quickly that she smiled despite herself.
At the door, he turned back.
"We don't have to try standing next time. I know some actual card tricks."
Lily looked offended for the first time all evening.
"Mine are actual card tricks."
"Then you can show me."
Charles opened the door before Nathaniel could reply.
"We'll discuss all this tomorrow," he said.
His voice was controlled, but Nathaniel noticed that the hand on the doorknob was shaking.
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