As soon as Sam leaves the apartment, Ethan looks at me and says, "Take your pants off for me."
My eyes get wide and I exclaim, "Excuse me?"
He laughs and his red cheeks return. "If you put on some shorts, I can massage your leg for you."
"Oh, sure, that's what you meant," I tease him. I go to Sam's room and dig around in her drawers because mine are all longer, cargo-type shorts and I know the massages that Ethan is going to do on my leg. "Oh, good heavens," I mumble when I pull out a tiny pair of yoga shorts. Sam has always been quite a bit more daring than I am when it comes to clothing.
I remove my pants and put on the shorts, along with a larger t-shirt that covers a bit more than the tank top I had on. I walk out, nervously biting my lip.
Ethan responds with a wolf whistle and I look at him menacingly. "Shut up," I tell him, pretending to be offended.
"I made us some sandwiches. Why don't you sit on the couch?" I obey and he comes in with a small tray containing sandwiches, fresh grapes and two cans of soda. We enjoy the meal without much conversation, but soon after we finish, Ethan gets to work removing my prosthesis.
"Lie down on your back," he instructs me. I comply, wiggling to get comfortable on Sam's small couch.
He begins with the same massage and stretching on my stump that they use at the therapy clinic. Then he tells me to turn over on my stomach, which I do. As he continues to work on my muscles, he suddenly blurts, "Did you know you have freckles on your upper thigh in the shape of a cat?"
I bury my face in my arms and burst out laughing. "Yes," I tell him, trying to catch my breath. "I named him Chester."
"You're yanking my chain, right?" He says.
"No," I giggle, turning over again so I'm facing him. "I'm absolutely serious. You can even ask Sam. Most people don't get to meet Chester, though, because I don't usually wear shorts that are so scandalously short."
"You're weird," he laughs. "Maybe you hit your head harder than I thought last night."
"I'm serious. Don't make fun of me and my cat!"
Laughing, he sits down on the floor, next to my head.
"Do you want to sit up here?" I ask.
"No, you just lie there and relax. I'm fine here."
I reward him with a kiss on the cheek and a big grin. "Thank you. I don't know why I'm so much more sore today than normal."
"You're welcome, Sarah," He says and his face suddenly becomes much more serious "I would do anything for you." The way he says anything makes my heart glow with warmth. Somehow, I know he's completely serious, that he would really do anything for me.
I lean closer to him so he knows my intentions; he leans in so that I don't fall off the edge of the couch. My lips make contact with his and my heart jolts with excitement. He pushes further into the kiss and my heart races uncontrollably. When he pulls away, I'm left craving more. But I'm just as happy with his next move. He motions for me to sit up slightly, and he sits on the couch, pulling me back down on his lap. He tucks a pillow under my head and grabs the small blanket from the back of the couch, spreading it over me. He strokes my hair and whispers, "Take a nap, angel."
My eyes are already closed but a gigantic lazy smile spreads across my face.
He called me angel.
I've never been super mushy gushy or anything, but when Ethan does and says such sweet things, he makes it seem like an art form instead of a cheesy romance novel.
Contentment swirls through my body as he drags his fingers lightly through my hair and I slowly drift off to sleep.
The next thing I know, Sam's loud voice awakens me. "Oooh, what did you guys do while I was gone?" She teases.
"Shut up, Sam," I mumble, my eyes still closed. Ethan laughs and I feel it rumble in his chest.
"So do you want to go out for dinner or stay here in my apartment and order Chinese food?"
"Go out!" Ethan and I say simultaneously. I smile up at him and he leans in to give me a quick peck on the lips, but Sam catches sight of us and coos, "Ooohhh."
"Shut up, Sam!" I tell her again, but I can't stop another smile from overtaking my face.
We take a cab to a nice seafood restaurant near Penn's Landing on the Delaware River. As we approach the restaurant, my senses are filled with luscious smells.
"I'm starving," I suddenly notice.
"Good, because this is my treat," Ethan announces.
"Oh, no you don't!" Sam argues with him. "You're my guests and I'm treating."
"Nonsense," Ethan retorts. "I'm buying and that's final."
Sam looks like she wants to continue the argument, being the bull-headed redhead that she is, but I flash her a warning look that tells her to drop it.
We find a seat and order our drinks. I'm in the mood for a mixed drink, so I order a Long-Island Iced Tea. Ethan orders a Long-Island Iced Tea as well, but Sam orders a martini. "Well," I remark. "Aren't we sophisticated?" I give her wink, which she returns with a smirk. We enjoy a delicious dinner and then make our way to Penn's landing. The waterfront provides some relief from the sweltering heat, but not much. Sam leads us into a pub with a deck that juts out over the river. We are seated at the very edge, over the water. The slight breeze is just perfect, but I find myself craving an icy drink. We all order margaritas and settle in for a delightful evening. I'm not much of a drinker, and I haven't had any alcohol since before my accident. After two margaritas, in addition to my iced tea at the restaurant, I'm feeling a bit giddy.
In a moment of uncharacteristic candor, I exclaim, "I love you guys!"
Ethan laughs. "You're drunk, Sarah!"
"I am not drunk. I'm just happy," I tell him. "And I love you, Ethan!"
Sam gives me a weird glance while Ethan looks uncomfortable. "We should get going," he suggests, suddenly more sober than I'd ever seen him. We climb into the cab. Even through my alcohol-induced haze, I notice that he seems distant.
Upon returning to the apartment, Sam tells Ethan, "Did you know that couch pulls out into a bed?" She proceeds to move the coffee table and then pulls out the bed. The scent of fresh, clean sheets fills the air.
"Thanks," Ethan says quietly.
I look at Ethan, pursing my lips and hoping I can figure out what's wrong with him. Sam catches on to my apprehension and excuses herself. "I think I'm going to bed."
Ethan moves silently to the edge of the sofa bed and sits down. I move over to stand across from him; in Sam's tiny apartment, that leaves me only inches from him. "Ethan," I murmur.
He looks up at me and I can't quite decipher the look on his face. He's more serious than I've ever seen him; he looks almost...sad.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Sorry for what?" He sighs.
"I don't exactly know. But obviously, something is bothering you."
He stands up and rests his hand against my cheek. "Yes, something is bothering me. What's bothering me is that I love you, Sarah." I blink hard while my my mind races and my heart feels like it's going to gallop out of my chest.
He said that.
He just said he loves me.
Ethan loves me.
"You didn't mean it," he says quickly.
"What?" I ask, now feeling thoroughly confused.
He stands up and looks straight into my eyes. "You said you love me because you had a few drinks. I'm telling you I love you because I've been waiting to say it since that first time I kissed you in the hospital. If I could marry you today, I would. I don't want to scare you away, but that's how serious I am." I force my head to nod a little, trying to process what he's saying. "I don't take it lightly," he finishes.
His words sting a little because I'm starting to pick up on his meaning. He thinks I was just throwing those words around because I'm drunk, which I am certainly not. The giddy feeling has completely worn off now.
Tears are stinging my eyes as I lean in to kiss him gently on the lips. He doesn't return the kiss, but he doesn't resist. I kiss across his cheek, then his jaw, leaving little pecks as I go. By the time I make my way back to his mouth, he kisses me back. His mouth moves against mine in a way I've never felt before. I slide my hands up to wrap around his neck. He pulls me tight against his body, his hands firmly on my hips.
I begin to feel weak as he pulls away. I look straight into his eyes, just as he had done a few moments before.
"Ethan, I love you, too," I say softly. His expression changes. There's a sparkle in his eyes, but it looks like he's trying to hide his excitement. I continue, "I'm not drunk. I'm one hundred percent in my right mind. I guess I kind of waited until I knew for sure because I didn't want to hurt you." I search his eyes for any doubt. "I love you," I say again.
He kisses me again and my heart swells with absolute bliss at this perfect moment.
I love Ethan!
I'm in love with Ethan Broadwell!
He holds me in a warm embrace for a long while, neither one of us speaking. I've never felt this before and it's completely new and overwhelming.
Finally, he tells me gently, "As much as I'd love to have you stay out here with me, I think you'd better get to bed. Busy day tomorrow." Then he winks and kisses my forehead. Not happy with just a forehead kiss anymore, I pop up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips.
"Good night."
It's the 4th of July. We eat a quick breakfast at Sam's apartment and head out to claim a spot for the parade. We decide to take my wheelchair because of the large crowds and long walks around Philadelphia, but I want to walk as much as I can before I get too tired.
When we get off the train near the parade route, I stumble on the last step, but Ethan is quick to catch me. He's so attentive; it's like he knows my every move.
"Time to sit, angel," he tells me as he unfolds the chair.
"Do I have to?" I ask and pout like a little child.
"Sarah, you are very capable, but I'm a little worried about the crowds. I don't want you to get pushed around. Let me take care of you." He convinces me with his compassion.
As soon as I'm seated, we take off at top speed to stake a claim along the parade route. Ethan is quite skilled with the chair, I must admit. It probably helps that Sam borrowed a lightweight, easy-to-push chair, kind of like a jogging stroller, but without the sippy cup holder. We find a spot with a great view, thanks to the kind people who move out of the way for us. I guess there are some perks to being disabled.
Soon, we are greeted by the sights and sounds of the biggest 4th of July parade I've ever seen. A vendor walks by selling mini flags, pinwheels and other Independence Day paraphernalia. Ethan buys pinwheels for Sam and me, and to both of our embarrassment, he purchases an over-sized Uncle Sam hat for himself.
"You're getting really into this, aren't you?" I laugh as he dons the ridiculously large hat.
"Absolutely!" Ethan grins. "I love the 4th of July!"
The parade is fabulous. For well over an hour, we are treated to the engaging music of the marching bands, the fantastic floats, the clowns throwing candy that flies right into our laps, and the endearing spectacle of little children riding tricycles decked out with sparkly streamers.
As the final float disappears, I look up at Ethan and stifle a giggle when I see the silly hat still resting on his adorable head. "So?" I take a bite of a Laffy Taffy. "What are we doing now?"
"Let's explore," Ethan suggests. Sam, who usually has very strong opinions on what to do and where to go and what to see, agrees to just meander through downtown Philly. There is nonstop activity all through the city. We see historic re-enactments, we encounter bands playing patriotic music, and of course, we have to see the Liberty Bell.
The day is sweltering hot, and toward late afternoon, we are overcome with weariness. Luckily we happen upon an all-you-can-eat ice cream event. We find a wonderfully shady spot and stuff ourselves silly with just about every flavor of ice cream.
After indulging a little too much, Sam lays back on the grass and falls asleep.
A delightful breeze winds through the trees, caressing our skin with coolness. "Aaah," I sigh. "That feels wonderful. But I think I might have gotten some sunburn," I say, touching my cheeks tentatively.
Ethan studies my face. "Yeah, I think you did. Do you want to wear my hat?"
"No, thanks!" I laugh.
"I'll get some drinks," he tells me and walks away quickly.
"All right, I'll just wait here," I yell after him. He glances back with a smirk on his face.
I close my eyes for a few moments and notice that the breeze has subsided. It's so hot, I feel the energy draining out of me again. Before I know it, I feel a cool sensation on my face. I open my eyes to find Ethan perched humorously close to me, applying aloe to my face. I giggle and then tell him, "Stop! You're making me feel like a little kid."
"Okay," he relents. "But when this dries, you should put on some sunscreen." He pulls a tube out of his pocket and hands it to me.
"Okay, Mom," I tell him and roll my eyes at him.
"I'm just taking care of you. I promised your parents that I would," he reminds me.
"I know, thank," I tell him and then grasp his face to pull him down for a kiss. He also gives me a giant bottle of water, lays another one next to Sam, and then takes an enormous gulp out of the one he bought for himself. Then He kisses me again, lingering on my lips until we hear Sam clearing her throat.
"So, are you guys ready to do some more exploring?" She asks, energized after her mini-nap and a sizable swig of water.
"Sure, but...aren't you both getting tired of pushing me around?"
"Not at all," Sam and Ethan say in unison.
"You know, you could just bring me back to the apartment and head out again if you want to," I tell them. It's odd, but there's some of that old I-can-do-it-myself determination coming through. I don't like having to rely on others, and having them push me everywhere on this hot, hot day is making me feel kind of useless. And then I feel a new wave of self-pity. I used to be the one who would be out front, leading everyone else, trekking through the crowds to get to the best attractions. I can't quite figure it out but my mood has suddenly taken a turn.
Ethan, however, changes my attitude in an instant by shaking his head and saying, "Nope, we're all in this together."
"Thank you, Radio Disney," I chuckle.
We head out again, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city-wide celebration. However, after only an hour or so, the heat is getting the better of us. And self-pity is creeping back for some unknown reason. I've been ruminating about how Sam and Ethan have to do everything for me and that it's not fair that I'm taking away their fun.
Finally, I can't stand it any more. "I'm really sorry. I think I will have to invest in one of those motorized chairs so you won't have to keep doing this for me," I comment in a forlorn voice.
"What is wrong with you today?!" Sam practically yells at me.
Ethan squats down in front of me. "Why this sudden downward turn? I thought you were getting past this."
"I don't know," I snap. "It's just kind of humiliating to have to be pushed around everywhere. And I kind of like walking."
"All right. Let's walk then," Ethan tells me while he locks my wheels and moves the footrests out of the way.
I stand up and stretch and it feels wonderful.
Then Ethan tells me, "But I'm going to hold your hand in case you stumble or you get jostled around in the crowd."
"Who's going to push the wheelchair?" I ask.
"Sam can do it," he says teasingly, while he leads me into the multitudes.
I walk fairly well for a long time and Ethan occasionally gives me reminders about posture and making my gait more efficient. I tease him a bit about being so clinical and overprotective, but deep down, I like that he cares about me so much.
After an extremely hot afternoon and a particularly long and frustrating wait to get some dinner, I begin to crack. Anxiety floods me, accompanied by all the thoughts and fears that I've been trying to get past for the last five months.
I should have never told Ethan I love him, even though I do love him with all my heart. I can't saddle him with the burden of taking care of me for the rest of my life. I will never be normal again. He will always have to look out for me in a crowd or when I've been on my feet too long. And heavens, it's too early to talk about kids, but I'm sure he wants kids. Can someone like me even get pregnant? I mean, should I? Maybe the weight of pregnancy would be too much for my prosthetic leg to bear.
I don't say much during dinner. Sam and Ethan chat happily, rejuvenated by the air conditioning and ice cold drinks.
Finally, Sam asks me, "Are you okay?"
I manage a weary smile. "Yeah, I'm just tired."
After dinner, we find a spectacular spot to watch the fireworks. Sam has brought a blanket. As she spreads it out on the ground, Ethan holds out his hand to me.
"I think it will be easier to just sit here," I tell him quietly, motioning to the wheelchair.
"I'll help you," he assures me.
I stand up easily. Ethan positions himself behind me and helps me lower to the blanket, holding my hips and drawing my back into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and I lean back into his embrace.
As we wait for the fireworks show to begin, I start to wonder if I should have held back longer. If I hadn't admitted to Ethan that I was already in love with him, maybe he would have eventually been scared off by the fact that he needs to take care of me.
As I'm brooding, entertaining anxious thoughts that make me spiral deeper into despair, Ethan whispers in my ear, "You don't scare me, Sarah Gabriella Stoker."
How on earth did he know what I was thinking? My anxiety melts away with his calming words. He told me once that he can understand me better than I think he can. I'm starting to believe that he can somehow get inside my head, that he really does know me better than I ever thought possible. He knows exactly what I've been worried about all this time.
The fireworks display is the most enjoyable I've ever experienced. Not only is it an impressive display – I would expect nothing less from the birthplace of the United States – but having Ethan hold me close is even more enjoyable.
Once we arrive back at Sam's apartment, she excuses herself and heads to her room. I'm pretty sure that she is leaving us alone on purpose, and I don't mind. I think I should apologize for how I've been acting, wallowing in self-pity for much of the day.
But Ethan also has something to say and I haven't the slightest clue what he's going to tell me.
* * * * *
Enjoy Part 2 of your Triple Update :)