Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,87
to say any more.
His jaw is clenching, and his mouth has hardened to a defensive line. ‘Pixie refuses to be limited or defined by her chair. She lives her life focusing on everything she can do, not what she can’t.’ He lets out a sigh. ‘If I’d told you earlier, you’d have seen the whole day in terms of her limitations. In your head she’d simply have been a disability, not a person.’
It might have led to a more practical way forward, that’s all. At least now I can see why he’s been such an awkward client. And this explains his obsession with floor coverings and why fields and cliff-top paths were out and why a handy bathroom was so vital in a tipi.
I let out a sigh because, though he doesn’t know it, he couldn’t have got me any more wrong. If he’d only told me, no one would have understood the problems better than me. Not that he’ll ever know, but however much my mum’s body let her down, she was always herself. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there and seen it. But the more her body failed her, the stronger the very essence of who she was shone out. Because in the end that will, that beautiful, creative, argumentative, bloody-minded fighting spirit was all she had left. And I know for myself how other people’s thoughtless acts or comments can pierce straight through to your heart if they catch you wrongly.
I’m kicking myself as I think back to my time with Nic. ‘If I’d known, we’d never have gone to the Harbourside Hotel, or all those other places with a million steps or narrow doors.’ It’s not only the time we’ve wasted, it’s that every unsuitable venue I dragged him to must have been a painful reminder to him of everything she couldn’t have.
He pulls down the corner of his mouth. ‘Endless tours of facilities for the disabled would have been way more depressing.’ And I suppose he has a point. ‘I knew if you showed me enough beautiful venues we’d find the right one in the end. And we did.’
So he’s right again. But this time rather than minding, I’m pleased for him. I know it’s made my job a thousand times harder, but he read the situation, and found his own way through. And I really can’t fault him for that. In fact, it shows remarkable good judgement on his part. I’m admiring him for sticking to it because this particular way forward must have caused him a lot of painful moments.
I’m dying inside to think I actually suggested a Cinderella staircase for Pixie to walk down. I’m flicking through my brain to think what else I need to ask so I don’t go putting my foot in it again. ‘Has she always been … er … the same?’
His eyes are strangely blank as he speaks. ‘She wasn’t born like that and she’s not ill. It’s a spinal cord injury from an accident on a go cart track five years ago.’ He’s staring across the harbour and out to the navy blue expanse of sea that’s sparking like diamonds where the sun’s hitting it. ‘She was twenty-six with her whole life in front of her, and in a split second it was all taken away.’
My mouth’s gone dry with the desolation in his voice. At least with my mum it came on slowly. There were difficult times – tears and anguish and shock – when the hospital told us what to expect. But at least we had the luxury of crying in anticipation. Watching the changes creep up on us. We didn’t have the shock of an instantaneous change.
‘Was Ewan with her then?’ All I want to do is wrap my arms around him. To hold him for as long as it takes to make the hurt in his voice go away.
He’s still examining the floor. ‘She was seeing someone else when it happened but he didn’t stick around, and she didn’t want him to. She and Ewan used to hate each other growing up, but a few summers ago he went as her helper on a tall ship voyage when none of the rest of us could make it.’ He finally looks up and gives a rueful grin. ‘I guess she found out he wasn’t so bad after all.’
This puts me in my place, bleating about a little thing like losing my fiancé.
At least now I understand how much pressure he’s under