All Things Good

The New Normal

Leah sat on her bed and stared down at her feet. Carefully she examined the tops on her brand new, black and white Vans. These shoes were never going to get dirty. Looking up as a single tear rolled down her cheek, her closet that was opposite of her bed came into view. Inside it sat all of the shoes that she'd never wear again and just beneath her she could her the muffled conversation her parents were having in the living room.

"What are we going to do now, Greg?" Anna Crane arms crossed over her white sweater,was furiously pacing in front of the fire place on the long, narrow room.
Greg stared at his wife. Watched as her tiny frame, swallowed up in her bulky sweater and dark denim jeans slowly ping ponged back and forth in front of him. His mind was racing, searching for the perfect words.
"We adapt. This the new normal." He ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair and sighed.
"How?!" She stood pacing and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hands. By this point she had already cried off most of her makeup.
"Anna" Greg sighed softly, "come sit down."
Anna finally sat next her husband and shuddered out a sob. "The house is too small and renovating will cost us a fortune."
"We'll figure it out. We always have."
"It's never been something this bad before. This will change her whole life..." Anna whispered quietly as the tears started anew. "And ours too."

Upstairs Leah was once again staring at her shoes. She was willing her toes to move. Nothing. "Come on!" She cried through gritted teeth, "Come on, damn it! Move!" Nothing. A strangled sob, not unlike her mother's downstairs, left her throat. This was not her life. Leah grabbed the nearest object on her bedside table and hurled it as hard as she could across the room. The dance trophy hit the wall and broke into chunks. Her chest heaved up and down with more sobs that she struggled to contain. This couldn't be her life. She was sure, of all the stages of grief, that anger would be her constant companion. It was all that she had. Glancing at the wheelchair at the end of the bed, she couldn't stop the scream that erupted.

Over the next few weeks Leah's house bustled with more activity than it had seen in years. Her mom was busy packing and her dad was coordinating all of the changes. They were moving.
"Dad!" Leah hollered from the top of the stairs.
"Ready to come down?" Greg jogged up the stairs toward her smiling.
"Why are you smiling like that? You look creepy."
"Gee, thanks!" He huffed out as he hoisted her up in a bridal style hold and started slowly sidestepping downward.
"Please don't fall, Dad" Leah turned her face into his shoulder.
"I won't, don't worry. You're good, old dad is still pretty buff."
He wasn't wrong, Leah agreed silently to herself. Even though her father was in his late 40's he was still in great shape. He had made it a point to hit the gym almost daily since she was young child. However, that wasn't something a teenage girl ever admitted to her father so instead, she gave the patented teenaged response of, "Gross dad. People your age shouldn't say things like that."
"People my age? What does that mean?"
"Ya know," she said as he sat her down on the couch. "Old."
"Old?!" He jogged back up and brought her wheelchair down, setting it next to her.
"Just for that I should leave you upstairs." He winked at her.
Just then her mother entered the room, "Leave who upstairs?"
"Who do you think?" Leah rolled her eyes.
Anna ignored her daughter and looked at her husband. "Greg, the movers are here. Can you make sure they are extra careful with the China hutch and the bureau?"
"Jesus Christ, mom. These people are professionals. Pretty sure they know what they're doing."
"I would appreciate it if you stopped speaking to me like that. Now, do you need me to help you into your chair?"
"No."
Anna, looking defeated, turned and left the room.
"Leah." Greg turned back to his daughter.
"What? It's not like she could lift me with those skinny arms of hers."
"Cut your mom some slack. She's trying."
"Yeah, well." Leah had made the transfer from couch to chair. "No one asked her to."