By the time he got home it was dark and cold and his head ached and his leg was throbbing. He took a pain pill and poured a short tequila. For a while he watched the moon rise beyond the palm tree outside his window. The drugs made him feel still and uncomplicated.
He wrote Johnny a letter, something he often did when he couldn't be with his son and a phone call just wasn't enough. He kept it informative, trying to describe in matter-of-fact terms how it felt to fall into the black ocean from a bridge two hundred feet high. He tried to give his crutches and stitches a humorous slant. He said to give Brownie a hug for him. When he finally wrote "I love you and miss you" at the end, it felt like the only thing he'd really wanted to say in the first place.
He ate Raegan's stew for dinner. He was leaning against the sink counter when he heard the knock at the door. He got onto the crutches, swung into action.
Sally Rainwater stood in the porch light, wrapped in a long black coat. Hair down, jeans and boots.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I feel great."
"I meant it."
"So did I, Sally. You're the best thing my eyes could have seen."
The expression on her face was not quite a smile. "I've been thinking."
"There's room for that in here."
He pushed open the door with a crutch and tried to stand back but she put her arms around him. He couldn't move and couldn't speak and didn't want to.