The attic probably hadn't been entered since Gramma Emily died, Andrea thought as she rubbed her nose against the smell of dust and stale air. It was long past time someone came up here and cleared out all this junk.
Andrea had been upstairs for two hours going through boxes and trunks. The hard work kept her mind off Eric and her guilt for not calling him when she arrived last night.
This was the first time she'd been away from home without him or any of the kids. It was also the first time in a year she had gotten a good night's sleep. She hadn't had to sleep in the living room so that Eric was comfortable, listen to him moan in his sleep or lay awake worrying where the mortgage payment was coming from.
At least the company had finally taken full responsibility for the accident and they'd paid far more than she'd allowed herself to imagine. Now, they wouldn't have to worry about losing the house if he was never able to work again.
Andrea nearly dropped the milk glass vase she'd pulled out of an old trunk. If Eric was totally disabled...she couldn't let herself think about that. Things had to get better.
Already her relationship was changing from that of friend and lover to caretaker and nurse. This was not what she signed up for.
Her cell phone rang and when she saw Eric's face on the screen, she was tempted not to take it, but her better nature prevailed.
"Hi, honey. How are you?"
He hesitated, then in a small voice said, "A lot of pain today. The doctor called last night."
Andrea stiffened. A doctor calling on a Friday night didn't sound like a good thing.
"The damage to my back is permanent."
All the air left the attic. "No."
"Look, sweetheart," he said. "I know this isn't what we hoped for, but maybe he's wrong. We'll get a second opinion, go to a bigger clinic in a bigger city, something."
Andrea nodded, too stunned to speak. This couldn't be happening to her. It wasn't fair.
"Andy? Sweetheart? Are you still there?"
"I'm here, Eric."
"It'll be okay. You do what you have to up there. I'm fine here. We'll talk when you get home."
She hung up the phone. "If I come home."
She set the vase on the floor and sat down, her back against the attic wall, not trying to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
That was it, then. The injuries were permanent.
Eric might have meant what he said about finding another doctor and getting another opinion, but they both knew it wouldn't change anything. His company had hired one of the foremost back specialists in the country to try and prove that he wasn't too injured to work, and yet, they'd ended up paying nearly two million dollars in damages.
Her husband, at forty-five, was never going to be able to take care of himself again, and they would never be able to have the kind of love life they'd had before.
"So, you're going to leave?"
Andrea looked around. She'd heard the voice, clear as day, but she was alone.
The stress of all this must be getting to her. She decided to go downstairs and fix a cup of tea. That should help.
"You're just going to ignore me, too, like you do your problems."
Andrea froze in the process of standing and looked around again. The sound seemed to be coming from around the milk glass vase she'd just set down, but...
