Callie came home after a week and a half in the hospital. They wanted to make sure the infection in her foot was clearing up, and that she was getting over the pneumonia. She was and was zipping around on her crutches like no-one's business.
We brought her home on a Wednesday and decided to keep her home from school until Monday. Her stamina was better but she still tired by the end of the day and more than once had fallen asleep eating her dinner.
The pups were so happy to have her home but Brendon's parents were ecstatic. They would hardly let her out of their sight. Callie was alright with it this time. Boyd carried her around more often than she used her crutches. He kept giving her piggyback rides and Callie smiled brightly when her grandfather carried her around.
Wednesday afternoon she took a nap and slept for about three hours. Grace went to wake her up before dinner and it was taking a while for them to come back downstairs.
"Bren?" I said.
"Yep?" He asked, opening himself a beer.
"Can you keep an eye on the spaghetti sauce? I want to go check on your mom and Callie. They're taking a while to come back down."
"Yep," he said, teasing Bogart with a dog treat. I rolled my eyes and smiled then went up the stairs towards Callie's room.
I heard laughter, which instantly put me at ease. I knocked on the door so I wouldn't startle, well, either of them. Grace looked up from the book on her lap and smiled. Callie looked up, saw me and her eyes twinkled as she started signing to me.
"Look what Granny brought!" She pointed at the book. It was a photo album. One I was familiar with. I smiled. Callie was getting the stories of how her dad grew up and what kind of a kid he'd been. Youngest of five, Brendon had been a character even as a kid. "Dad is crazy!"
Grace smiled at me as I sat beside Callie on her bed.
"She's loving hearing stories about her dad's antics," Grace smiled at me and stroked Callie's hair as she smiled at her.
"Your dad has not changed much from that little boy," I signed to her, laughing. "He's just taller."
Callie giggled. Grace smiled.
"I think we took too long looking at pictures and talking about your dad," Grace texted Callie. "I think your mom came to tell us it's dinner time."
Callie looked at me. I nodded.
"You can look at these with Granny after dinner, okay?" I signed. Callie looked at Grace and shrugged.
"Okay," she signed, but smiled.
"What's for dinner?" Callie asked.
"Oatmeal," I grinned. She'd gotten oatmeal so often in the hospital and did not like it much.
Callie frowned at me and rolled her eyes. But she was smiling.
"Mom," she signed, looking exasperated. "You're being like Dad."
"Who? Me?" I laughed and hugged my daughter. Callie hugged me back and we all got up. Callie grabbed her crutches and we made our way downstairs.
As soon as we reached the bottom, Boyd scooped Callie up, smiled at her and kissed her cheek. Callie whooped and laughed as Boyd lifted her off the ground. It was such a sweet sound, I wished she could hear herself. I smiled as Boyd carried her into the dining room and deposited her on her chair. Brendon came into the room with a bowl of salad and his drink. I went into the kitchen with Grace and we got the spaghetti ready to serve. Grace carried out the basket of garlic bread we'd made, and I brought the pasta out. The five of us sat at the table eating, talking, texting as needed, and enjoying that our little family was whole again.
I watched Callie carefully. Partly to make sure she wasn't tiring too much, partly because I just wanted to stare at this beautiful child I got to call my daughter. This tiny human who had endured so much in her young life but still maintained such an innocence about her. We'd booked a session with her therapist for the next day, since she'd missed two sessions from her foray into the hills, and because she needed to learn to cope with stress in a better and different way.
But I marvelled at her. She was still so resilient. Despite the things she'd endured, she was willing to work on healing from it, and she had made great strides since we'd come home from New York. I smiled. I felt someone take my hand and looked over at Brendon who was also watching Callie with her grandparents with a goofy grin on his face. He smiled at me, a tear rolling down his face.
"We nearly lost her," he whispered.
"But we didn't. And she's doing so well," I whispered back. He nodded and smiled.
Callie was showing Grace something on her phone. Grace was smiling and Boyd was trying to listen in and look as Callie and Grace talked.
"Callie," I said, getting her attention. "Eat your dinner."
She smiled and picked up her fork. Grace shrugged and smiled at her. Boyd pretended to be mad at her and pointed at her plate, then wagged his finger. But the smile on his face belied the frown he was trying to pass off as 'mad'.
"Sorry PopPop," our impish daughter smiled, then twirled spaghetti around her fork.
Since we still had three days before Callie would go back to school, and given that her injured foot was a barrier to some activities, we all discussed what we should do over the long weekend. Callie's teachers had given her some work to do, and she'd done a lot of it in the hospital, when she could.
Boyd and Grace suggested dinner in Santa Monica or Venice. We could walk along the boardwalk. I didn't even think about Callie's foot, since I knew Brendon or Boyd would likely piggyback her everywhere.
Callie said she was happy to do whatever we all wante, unless we wanted to run a marathon because she didn't think she'd be able to participate in a marathon.
This kid is cheeky. We laughed.
We cleared up dinner and dessert and relaxed. We watched a movie with Boyd and Grace, turning the captions on for Callie.
She fell asleep at some point during the movie and Brendon picked her up and carried her up to bed.
He came back down smiling.
"She all good?" I asked as he settled beside me on the couch.
"Didn't even wake up when I put her to bed. She's fast asleep. I put Mr. Tibbles beside her and Bogart is curled up beside her."
Things were falling into place. We were still navigating a lot of firsts, but we'd make it through.