Patrick Twelve: New Beginnings

Recovery is a difficult process. Since I had been in a coma for three months, the muscles in my arms and legs had essentially been asleep. Sitting up was difficult, at least the first time I did it. Standing up was out of the question, and I felt like an invalid for the first few days after I woke up. It took me a day and a lot of water to start speaking again since my throat was dry and my vocal chords were tired. Dr. King assigned me a physical therapist named Pierre to help me regain muscle movement. Pierre would come every day to help me, and seven days after I woke up, I was able to move around my room as long as I had something to grab onto. It felt good to be moving around, but I felt stupid because it was like I was a baby again, trying to learn how to walk. When Dr. King saw that I was no longer bedridden, she discharged me with a list of things to help me regain control of my life, and assigned Pierre to have a two hour session with me every day. In addition to exercise, Pierre also specialized in acupuncture, and he used that on me to stimulate my muscles so they would wake up faster, as well as a way to block the pain from my muscles waking up.

About a month had passed since I was released from the hospital, and I was doing much better. Katya had moved in with me, Pierre was still coming over everyday, and I felt significantly better than I had the first few days after I woke up. I no longer had to use the wall for support while walking, but I would still get tired if I exerted too much energy, or stood for too long. Dr. King had sent a wheelchair home with me as well so I could move around quickly if I needed to while I healed. Dad would take me for short walks, first just around the house, and then around the block. If I got tired, we just sat down in the grass and talked while I regained the energy to get up and finish the walk.

When I first woke up from my coma, I noticed Katya's pregnant belly, but couldn't show much enthusiasm for her other than smiling at her and giving her a hug and a kiss. Today, I had just finished my exercises with Pierre and headed into the kitchen to grab some refreshment. Katya was sitting in the kitchen with a bunch of brownies and pastries in front of her.

"What did you do, raid a small bakery?"

Katya glared at me while stuffing her face with a brownie.

"No, I just asked for a dessert variety platter. I'm super hungry. I guess this baby has a sweet tooth."

"Either that or his mother does."

I smiled at Katya, surprised at how much food she could eat in one sitting considering she had a fairly small frame. We had wanted to find out the gender of the baby beforehand, and found out it was a boy. In between bites, Katya paused to talk to me.

"How are you, Patrick? Physical therapy going well for you?"

"Yeah, I'm getting stronger, I still have another month of it before I have to go in and let Dr. King see if I'm better enough to not have to do it anymore. How are you, besides being hungry?"

"I'm fine, I guess, I'm a little scared of when I won't be able to see my feet, and need more assistance doing ordinary things. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, especially since I don't want to put a lot of pressure on you while you heal. I don't want you to have any setbacks because of me."

"I'm fine, Katya. I'm rebuilding my strength, besides Mom and Dad are here a lot now helping both of us out. My injuries from the fall are completely healed, I just need to wake my body back up to full capacity. Everything will be okay. We will be okay, all right? I'm going to go take a shower."

Katya nodded. I got up from the chair, walked around it, and pretended to fall a little, crouching on the ground as I did. I had a surprise for Katya and I hoped she'd be up for it. I made a noise letting her know I had 'fallen,' and she came over to me. Before she could give me her hand to help me up, I had fished around in my pocket for the little black box that I had picked up when Dad and I hung out the other day.

"Katya, before I met you, no girl had ever made me feel the way you do. I've enjoyed learning things from you, and spending time with you. Now we're living together, and you're having a kid with me. Katya Eliza Monroe, will you marry me?"

"Oh my god, PATRICK! Yes! Yes, I will!"

Katya gave me a hug, and I pulled her as close to me as her stomach would allow to give her a kiss. She ran her fingers through my hair, and at that moment, I felt like nothing could go wrong.

Four months later, our son, Armand Decimus Hunt, joined our family. Katya found it hard to adjust to a crying baby the first night we brought him home. She was slightly paranoid to put him in his room since it was upstairs, and our room was downstairs, but she also didn't like being woken up in the middle of the night. I didn't blame her since she had just given birth, I can't even imagine how tired she must have been. I put on some sweats and took Armand out of our room so Katya could get some sleep.

"Shh, little Armand, it'll be okay. Mommy's sorry for yelling."

I reached the top of the stairs, and continued down the hallway to Armand's room, which was in the new addition I had attached to the upstairs part of my house, on the opposite side of the guest bedroom. By the time I entered his room, he was laughing and smiling. He raised his right arm up towards me, and made gurgling sounds as I put him in his crib so I could get some sleep. I smiled back at him, still in awe of how tiny he was.

I sat in Armand's room on a chair that looked like a magician's hat and looked around, while making sure he fell asleep before leaving the room. I wondered and hoped Katya would be okay, she seemed stressed out more than normal, but I figured it was just from all the wedding planning she had been doing. Katya had always wanted to get married, so she had an idea of what she wanted the big day to look like. Her mother was out of the picture, so my mom was helping her as sort of an assistant. My mom didn't have any experience with weddings, other than the time she modeled some high end designer wedding dresses for a commercial, but I knew she'd help Katya to the best of her ability.

My thoughts drifted from Katya and the upcoming wedding to my career. I wondered how me being out of the scene for almost a year would affect it. Up until the accident, I was making a name for myself in the magic industry. I knew no one would really forget who I was, they couldn't, simply because my parents were very famous, and I had noticed paparazzi outside the hospital when I was discharged. I began thinking about that night again and wondering how the rail had broken. It was a heavy duty, industrial sized track made of sturdy composition. The only thing I could think of was that someone had tampered with it somehow. I didn't think the theater would take something like that lightly, and I wasn't sure what all would happen regarding my weekly gig there. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to perform at that theater anymore after what happened.

The next morning, I had just finished getting out of the shower and was going to get dressed when I heard Katya scream from inside the closet. I walked in to see her standing in front of the mirror frantically looking at her reflection.

"Nothing fits! My jeans are too tight, and I can't wear these shorts! They won't zip, not even a little bit! Ugh! I hate this!"

I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders to calm her down. She struggled a little bit before giving in and then she just stood there staring in the mirror.

"Shh... Katya, you're beautiful."

"Shut up. I'm fat, and I am frustrated that I have baby weight. My stomach is hanging over my waistbands, like a giant, fat, muffin. How am I going to teach surfing again? No one is going to want to have lessons from a flabby teacher."

"My mom works out a lot, she could help you with that too, as well as the wedding stuff."

"So you think I'm fat?"

"No, of course not, I just said if you want your clothes to fit again, you can work out with my mom."

"My clothes don't fit because I'm fat."

Katya wrenched herself out of my grasp and sat down on the floor out of frustration. I didn't feel like I could say anything to make her feel better, so I just stood there in silence. Just then, Armand's cries sounded over the baby monitor. I looked at Katya, and she continued to sit there, looking angrily at the waistband of her shorts that she couldn't zip. Since she wasn't making any motions to get Armand, I decided I would go tend to him.

"Hey, big guy, what's the matter, huh? I have some milk here, do you want that?"

Part of me wondered if Katya resented Armand at all, given what she was upset about. It was only the second day of us having Armand here, so I tried not to worry about it too much, as adjusting to a baby is difficult, and I was tired too.

"Daddy's hungry, Armand, do you want to come downstairs with me? Oh, of course you do, you have no choice, now do you?"

I ended up just putting Armand back in his crib when I saw him yawn, and going downstairs alone. I found Katya in the kitchen, cleaning off one of the counters.

"Katya, are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, somewhat. I still feel like my ass is huge since these maternity pants are the only pants I could fit into, but I called your mom and talked to her for a little bit about going to the gym. I'm sorry I snapped at you, it wasn't you I was mad at. I know that you weren't calling me fat. I love you, Patrick."

My eyes got big as I scooped another piece of pie into my mouth. I knew we loved each other, but that was the first time either of us had ever said it out loud, and it felt nice hearing it. Time flew by, and before I knew it, a year had passed, and Armand had turned into an energetic toddler. Katya had kept postponing the wedding date because she hadn't been losing weight as fast as she wanted to, and I was trying my best to be patient with her, but it was difficult sometimes. I didn't think she would look bad in her dress, but she insisted that she needed to be a size two before we could get married, which was the size she was when I met her. I figured that since the wedding day was mainly for the woman, I would appease her. Besides, I knew that she loved me and that she wasn't postponing the wedding for reasons other than her weight issues.

I spent many of my days with Armand, playing with him and trying to keep him out of Katya's hair while she was planning the wedding. On the nights I worked, I called Dad or Mom to babysit, just so Katya would have some extra help with him. Some days I wondered if Katya was suffering from postpartum depression because many times if I was home, she wouldn't tend to Armand if he cried. I supposed I should trust her more when she was alone with him, as if perhaps she just relied on me to take care of Armand while I was there, but if I wasn't, she'd be more willing? I had no idea, but I didn't want to risk Armand's well-being.

"Hey, Armand, do you want to come play with Daddy? Come here."

Armand looked up at me with his gorgeous ocean blue eyes and laughed, then made his way over to me. I hoped wholeheartedly that despite the problems Katya was having now, that we could be a happy little family someday.