He then softly added, “I couldn’t make it without you.”
She’d gotten her lighthouse tattoo the next week. The same one they all wore on their shoulders, a symbol of who they were and what they stood for. The tattoo artist hadn’t managed to hide his surprise when she’d rolled in, but he’d done beautiful work, and now when Mary looked at the delicate lines of the lighthouse on her shoulder, she felt a fierce pride. She wasn’t just the woman in the wheelchair, but she was one of them.
Lunch was a casual affair. Everyone grabbed sandwiches from the fridge that Mary kept stocked, eating while working or gathered in the break room. Mary was reviewing a contract from a new weapons supplier when her phone rang.
“Ms. Smithwick? This is Carol from Mountain View Construction. I wanted to let you know that the builders are now filing for the final county inspection for the occupancy permit. You should have it in your hand by the end of the week. Congratulations!”
Mary’s breath caught. The house she’d bought three months ago was almost ready for her to move in. Trying to find an accessible house wasn’t working, so she had looked for a house that met her qualifications and could be adapted into a home.
“That’s wonderful.” Her voice shook slightly with excitement. “Thank you so much for your help with this, Carol.”
After confirming the details and agreeing to meet for the final walkthrough, Mary ended the call and just sat for a moment, letting it sink in. She was going to own a house that would become her home. Not rent an apartment, and not just make do with a house that sort of fit her needs, but actually own her own fully accessible home.
The apartment on Cutter’s Lane had served its purpose, but it had never felt permanent. It was a stepping stone, a place to land while she figured out what she really wanted. And what she’d wanted, she’d realized over the winter, was a real home. Something that was hers; something she could modify and adapt and make perfect for her needs.
She’d looked for several months, dragging Bert along to look at potential houses. Smiling, she knew that dragging wasn’t the right word. He came with enthusiasm, making suggestions and comments with each home they toured. Most houses in the area weren’t accessible, which meant she needed something that could be modified. The house on Sage Creek Road had been perfect—single story, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and enough space that she could really spread out. The layout was good, and Bert had connected her with the contractors who’d worked on the compound. They’d drawn up plans for modifications to make it fully accessible and beautiful, and started work almost immediately.
“You okay?”
Mary looked up to find Bert standing at her desk, concern evident on his face. She realized she’d been sitting there staring into space with a goofy smile on her face.
“I’m better than okay,” she said, unable to contain her excitement. “I just got a call from my contractor. My house is ready for the occupancy permit!”
Bert’s face transformed, his smile wide and genuine. “Mary, that’s fantastic! I can’t wait to see it. When can you move in?”
“I don’t know. Maybe as early as this weekend.”
“You’ll have to let me know,” he said. “The whole team will want to help.”
The offer warmed her, but she shook her head. “You don’t have to do that. I can hire movers.”
His expression turned stubborn, a look she’d learned meant he wasn’t going to back down. “Mary, we’re a team. That means we help each other. Besides, do you really want to trust your stuff to random movers when you’ve got a dozen highly trained friends who can lift heavy things, follow directions, and work for pizza and beer?”
When he put it that way, Mary had to laugh. “Okay, you’ve got a point. Thank you, Bert. That means a lot.”
“That’s what friends do.” Something in his tone made her look at him more closely. His expression was warm but guarded, as if he wanted to say more but was holding back.
The moment stretched between them, charged with something Mary couldn’t quite name but felt in every nerve ending. Then Bert cleared his throat and stepped back. “I should let you get back to work. But congratulations again, Mary. You deserve this.”
He was gone before she could respond, leaving her staring at the empty doorway and wondering, not for the first time, what exactly was happening between them.
10
The rest of the week passed in a blur of paperwork, renovation updates, and the regular demands of running LSIMT’s administrative operations. Mary spoke with the contractors daily, eagerly awaiting word that the county had inspected the renovations and that the occupancy permit had been issued. And just as she hoped, it all came through on Friday.
She pulled into the driveway with Bert right behind her. He hopped out quickly but stayed to the side, allowing her to exit her van as usual. Somehow in these months, Bert managed to instinctively assist with what she could use help with and leave her to her own devices when she was able.
They met Carol from the contractor’s office for her walkthrough. Rolling up the ramp that led to the porch, she glanced back to see Bert right behind her. As they approached the front door, she reached out to take his hand, giving it a squeeze before letting it go to grasp the wheelchair handle. He smiled, seeming to know she needed the touch to ground herself before entering her newly renovated home for the first time.
Once over the threshold, she gasped. Looking around, she viewed her new interior with a pounding heart. It was well over twice the size of her apartment. They widened doorways and installed smooth transitions between rooms. The living room had a gas fireplace and a mantel low enough that she could reach to place decor items. The area for her TV was also low enough and not wired to be mounted high on the wall.
The owner’s bathroom was completely renovated with a roll-in shower, accessible vanity, and carefully positioned grab bars that looked like design elements rather than medical equipment. The kitchen was her favorite, with a combination of lowered countertops, a shallow sink, and an island designed so she could roll underneath to prep food comfortably. There was also a standard section, allowing any guests or visitors to feel comfortable.
The master bedroom was spacious, with a large closet that had been reconfigured with lowered rods and pull-down shelving. The two guest bedrooms were left largely untouched, ready for when her nieces and nephews visited or her parents stayed over.
But it was the outdoor spaces that made Mary’s heart sing. A wide deck stretched across the back of the house, accessed by a gentle ramp disguised as part of the deck’s design. The front porch was deep and covered, with enough space for comfortable furniture and a view that looked toward the mountains in the distance.
The attached garage had been renovated to flow directly into a large laundry room, which connected to the kitchen. No more struggling to unload groceries in bad weather. She could pull right in, close the garage door, and wheel everything inside without ever going outside.