"Are you sure there's nothing else we can get you, honey?" Darcy's mother asked her the next morning.
"No, I'm fine, Mom, thanks."
"Okay, well, we won't be long. There are just a few items we forgot and need to pick up for later."
Odd. Her mother was the consummate hostess, and they'd always hosted a bowl game watching party on New Year's Day. Never could she remember her mother not having exactly everything she needed. Maybe she would send Darcy's dad out for ice as game time drew near, but that was it. "You're both going out?"
"Yes," her mother said, looking pointedly at her father. "Both of us."
"I'm good here," she assured her parents. Her father had helped her down the stairs and into the big, overstuffed chair, gotten her wrapped ankle settled on the ottoman, propped her crutches next to the chair, and given her the remote. She pulled her cell out of the pocket of her hoodie, putting it on the table next to her. Her mother had already placed a glass of water and Darcy's pain pills on the table as well as a couple of pieces of toast, heavy with peanut butter, just like she loved.
"Text us if you think of anything we could pick up for you," her mother said and hurried her father out the front door.
Darcy pulled the throw off the back of the chair behind her and threw it over her yoga pants-clad legs. She picked up the remote, turned on the television and surfed until she found the Rose Parade, a New Year's tradition for her. The games would come later, and that's what drew the party crowd, but she was a die-hard parade fan.
She reached for the pain killers, but figured she should eat the toast first so she picked up the plate and laid it in her lap. The pain wasn't unbearable, but the pills she'd taken last night when her parents delivered her home had given her a nice warm glow. It helped to take her mind off the fact that Lewis hadn't come back for her.
She was too proud to ask her parents about it, but the very fact that they'd shown up at the hospital and Lewis hadn't was all she'd needed to know. She desperately wanted to know if they'd seen him kissing Grace, but had kept mum. She did, however, nearly rip the prescription for pain meds out of kid-doc's hand when he assured her the ankle was not broken, just sprained as everyone had suspected.
So, she'd slept like the dead in her drug-induced haze, never hearing whether Lewis had walked down the hall. Not knowing if he even made it home last night. She had hobbled her way over to her bedroom window this morning when she woke and could form a coherent thought. Lewis's car wasn't in the driveway.
He hadn't come home. Had he spent the night with Grace?
And apparently there'd been some kind of freak winter storm. Patches of melting ice were all over the yard and driveway.
She finished off the toast, put the plate back on the table, and eyed the bottle of pills. She moved her ankle, turning it slightly. It hurt. And yeah, she deserved to get some-what did Georgie call it?-la-la.
Just as she was reaching for the anti-thoughts-of-Lewis pills, she heard a large thump coming from the staircase. She craned her neck, but couldn't see out into the hallway from where she sat. And another thump. A few seconds later, another. They came in a rhythm, about fifteen seconds apart.
"Mom?" she called. "Dad?" But she'd heard them go out the front door and heard the car pull out of the driveway. "Brooks?"
The thumping stopped, and Darcy reached for her phone, ready to dial 911 if needed. A different, quieter thump came now. One that Darcy recognized because she'd made the same noise herself just a while ago.
Lewis, wielding crutches, entered the living room, his leg in a cast from ankle to just below his knee. He wore sweatpants that were cut off on his bad leg, a wrinkled tee shirt, and had what looked to be a grey sweatshirt tucked between his arm and his body. His hair was at all angles.
"What happened?" she gasped. "Are you all right?"
"I tripped and fell," he answered, swinging his way into the living room, sitting in a chair next to hers. He set the sweatshirt on the floor in between the two seats, and propped his crutches on the other side of his chair. "Care to share your ottoman?"
She was so stunned it took her a moment to respond, but she finally nodded. He got out of his seat and, hopping and balancing, pulled his chair closer to hers so that he could put his leg up too. Her right foot, bandaged, sat next to his casted left one. That small movement seemed to exhaust him and he let out a large sigh, running his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end even more.
"When did this happen?" she asked. "Where did this happen?"
"At the Club."
So, he had gone back for Grace. For a fleeting moment she'd allowed herself to think that maybe he'd hurt himself leaving the hospital or something. That maybe he'd turned around so quickly on his way back to her that he'd run into something. That would be very Lewis-like.
"I was leaving."
"Oh." At the end of the night? After his kiss with Grace? Had she been with him? Helped him to the hospital? Had he tripped on the hem of Grace's gorgeous gown as they'd danced closely together?
"I mean, I never really stayed."
She looked over at him. "I don't understand."
"I got to the Club, but I didn't stay. I barely walked into the ballroom."
Something sparked inside Darcy. Hope. "Go on."
He ran his fingers through his hair again, pushed his glasses up his nose. He was adorable in the mornings, all bedheady and rumpled. She yanked at her ponytail. She didn't pull off rumpled very well. More like completely trashed.
"I realized that's not where I wanted to be," he said.
"It wasn't?"
He shook his head, and reached for her hand. "I wanted to be with you, Darce. You're all I could think about. I didn't know why you'd asked me to leave the hospital. I was trying to figure it out and I got a stupid idea to, well...But in the end, I just decided to screw the idea and get back to you. Make you tell me what happened. Why you kicked me out. But-"
"But...." she pointed at his leg.
"Yeah, I fell. It was crazy after that. It was right at midnight, so it took a while before I could get anyone's attention. I was going to text Brooks to see if he'd come back. He'd only left minutes before me. But I didn't have my phone."
"It was with me," she said.
"I figured that out,"
"Did you also figure out why I asked you to leave?"
A look of exasperation crossed his face. "No. I figured I'd just misread the situation. That you were pissed I climbed all over you."
"No. I wasn't pissed about that. I was very happy about that."
Relief crossed his face and Darcy realized she needed to walk him through this carefully. "I wanted what happened between us, Lewis. Badly, and for a long time."
"Really?" he seemed genuinely shocked, and maybe like he didn't quite believe her.
"Absolutely."
"So, then, why ask me to leave?"
"When you had your back to us, waiting for your...." she waved her hand in the general vicinity of his crotch.
"Yeah, yeah. Go on." His face grew red with embarrassment. Adorable!
"Your phone reverted to the full face picture on the game."
"Oh."
"Yes."
"But you knew I've had a thing for Grace. And obviously I designed that app way before last night, before I realized I..."
"You what?"
"That I-I mean...sort of...."
"Lewis, speak."
"Have feelings for you."
"And you know that now?"
"God, yes." And she believed him. The sincerity in his face, the hunger in his eyes, even when she looked like...well, like she'd spent the night in an ER.
"Wait, how did we not see each other in the ER? And how did my parents know to come and get me?"
He shrugged. "I told them. They brought me to the hospital. It was obvious my leg was broken, so they put me in a different area. I told Ellen and John not to say anything. To just bring you home."
"Why on earth not?"
"Well, at the Club it seemed like a great idea to come back and tell you how I felt. And then..."
"And then?" Dread crawled up her spine. Was he going to say his feelings changed?
"As usual I started overthinking why you sent me back to the party in the first place."
"Oh, Lewis. I sent you away because you needed to figure out for yourself who you wanted to kiss at midnight."
"Oh, I already had," he said, smiling at her. "But for much more than just a New Year's kiss."
She smiled back, the dread gone. "Good."
He leaned across her chair to try to kiss her, but their bum legs knocked into each other and they both let out moans of pain. Sitting back in their respective chairs they smiled at each other and held hands.
He nodded toward the television. "You always did like the parades more than the bowl games."
"Yes, I did. Still do." Then a thought occurred to her. "How did you get home? Did my parents go back for you?"
"No. They offered, but I didn't want them to leave you alone here. When Brooks was able to, he came and got me."
"When was that?"
"Not for a long time. There was a weird ice storm and lots of accidents. Thankfully there were no fatalities. I've only been home a few hours."
"Did you get any sleep?"
"Not much." He motioned to her bottle of pills. "They gave me some of those, but I didn't want to take them yet. Not until..."
"Until?"
"We could talk." She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He smiled back, and pushed up his glasses.
"Oh," he said, sitting up straighter, "I almost forgot." He looked at their legs, at himself, his head tilting. She knew he was trying to figure something out. Then he carefully got out of his chair, swung his body around to face her. "Can you lift your leg without too much pain?" She did and he stepped in front of her chair and sat on the ottoman, facing her, and placing her leg across his lap. Almost like he had at the hospital last night.
But much, much better.
He reached for his sweatshirt and started to unwind it and she realized it was wrapped around something. When he tossed the sweatshirt aside she let out a squeal. "My shoe! You found my shoe!"
"Well, actually, it found me."
"What do you mean?"
He ducked his head, chagrinned. "It's what I tripped on. How I fell."
"You're kidding me."
"Nope." He looked at her. "That's why I went back in the first place. To look for your shoe. You didn't want me near you, and I didn't want to be with anyone else."
She gave him a look of disbelief. "Nobody else," he said firmly, with conviction. She could tell it was the truth. Lewis never lied. "I just thought if I found your shoe I'd at least have a good excuse to make you talk to me again."
He tried to place the glass slipper on her foot, but ended up balancing it on her toes due to the bandage wrapped around her foot and ankle. Thank God she hadn't left her other shoe in the hospital trashcan like she'd briefly considered last night. At one point after Lewis left, she'd almost thrown the shoe, and his phone, across the room, trying to erase the painful night.
"Just like Cinderella," she gushed, surprising herself. She wasn't much of a gusher by nature, but hey, when fairy tales were unfolding right in front of you...a gush or two was in order.
Lewis snorted. "I know I'm not anybody's idea of Prince Charming. King of Geeks, maybe, but-"
"You're my Prince Charming. You always have been." He looked up at her, giving her a 'Don't bullshit me' look. The same look he'd given her a moment ago. He still hadn't bought in to them being Destiny. She knew she had to pull out the big guns. She took a deep breath, let it out, and said what she'd wanted to say since she was five years old but didn't know the grown up words.
"Lewis Kampmueller, I've loved you my whole life. Nobody will ever love you the way I do. And I think it's time we take this beyond friendship."
The head tilt was instantaneous, and deeper than she'd ever seen. He was going to have some crick in his neck during their life together.
"Darcy. I...how...what...."
"Lewis, answer."
"Yes. Absolutely yes."
She smiled and touched his face. "You know, I never got a New Year's kiss."
"Me neither," he said, leaning toward her.
"What do you say we try to hit a new high score?"
And they did.
