I do not own Me Before You.

Or stripey legs. Bummer. ;)

180 Days, Give or Take

Reparations and Preparations

It was difficult to try and explain to someone as able and free as Clark how taxing even the smallest thing as relying on someone else to write a thank you note for you could be.

Without sounding completely supercilious and sniffy.

I suppose it stemmed from my dear, sweet, earnest, proper mother.

After my accident, when the consolations and well-wishes were pouring in, she nearly worked herself to the bone attempting to write thank you notes to everyone.

Falsely cheery with her 'how shall we respond's and 'anything special you'd like to say's.

And of course her starchy and proper 'I'll just write 'written on behalf of' shall I?'s.

It became completely insufferable.

So when Clark attempted to guilt me into allowing her to write a thank you note to my symphony friend for our tickets, I suppose, simply put, I threw my own paddy a bit.

Completely unfazed of course, Louisa went right ahead and boldly proclaimed me an arse.

And wrote her own note for the post, cutting me cleanly out of the entire process all together.

She then proceeded to purchase and install top of the line voice recognition software on my device so that I might pen my own texts. Wirelessly connected to my home printer for easy accessibility of course.

I groused at first, feeling conspicuously like a doddering old great aunt. One of those with a panache for spritzing all her letters with dreadfully flowery perfumes.

Or, more aptly, a blithering madman declaring his completely unintelligible prose to the walls, the floors, and thin air.

A linguistic Don Quixote, if you will.

Wait until I introduced Clark to him.

Who by the way, managed to rouse me out of my obstinate streak regarding it all by cheekily suggesting I begin each and every notation with a self-important 'Take a letter, Miss Clark'.

Insufferable girl.

Still and all, I grew to quite like my new found freedom.

And annoying as it was, I knew she was right.

And felt slightly good to be put in my place so perfectly by a strong woman other than my mother.

And so to show Clark my appreciation, I dictated a thank you note especially for her.

Enlisted the chuckling Nathan to mark and post it.

And doled out a small, self-satisfied smile when Clark thanked me for it.

Relating that she had laughed so hard the bus driver asked if her lottery numbers had come up.

Though she still insisted on frequent outings, Clark had finally gotten the hint that I hated being goggled at in my chair and began planning quieter, less public excursions.

She even took to having two or three different ideas and frankly asking me which I favored.

I was so relieved to have someone growing a brain and truly considering my personal preferences, I felt like rewarding her with a medal.

And the Nobel-Not-A-Complete-Git Medal goes to . . . Molahonkey Clark!

Truth be told, it was tiring, exhausting, and more than a little difficult physically to be on the move so much more than I had attempted during the last year.

Embarrassingly so, seeing as how I had once been a cliff-jumping, wave-riding daredevil.

But what wasn't difficult for me was to accept her invitation and call on Clark for her birthday meal and celebration.

At her very own home, nevertheless.

With her family, even.

And Running Man.

One might assume such common folk would be the plight of my well-to-do upbringing.

A common misconception.

No, before the accident, dining properly with my family at the formal table was at the very bottom of my 'ready-to-do' list.

Stiff conversation. Proper etiquette.

It had all been so very pointlessly exhausting.

I had much preferred the small table in the kitchen.

With its floor dog and lack of elbow room.

Not to say I hadn't enjoy a sophisticated meal of rich, royal delicacies.

But I'd also traveled the world over and again in search of discovery and adventure.

Dined on packaged beef jerky while strapped into the side of a mountain.

Eaten sparse handfuls of unmentionable edibles with loinclothed tribesmen on the way to Kilimanjaro.

And found 'common' people the most enjoyable people with whom to pass the time.

So it was quite easy to choose calling on Clark and her family for a birthday celebration when she hesitantly brought the subject up on our afternoon picnic.

I get nervous when a girl wants me to meet her parents, I had dryly informed her.

Not true.

At least not in Clark's case.

That was just a jab to keep up my slightly off-putting character.

And to elicit one of those knowing, sunny smiles of hers.

Actually, I was practically giddy at the prospect of finally meeting the people who had so influenced my Molahonkey Clark.

Papa Clark, sir, exactly how sloshed were you really to pen the now infamous 'Molahonkey' song?

And were you aware as well that it would become to be known as a sort of weirdly appropriate anthem for people in need of a good brightening?

Incidently, ma'am, when did you first suspect your little Louisa would have a proclivity toward eye-blistering, yet somehow still visually pleasing wardrobe creations?

These were, of course, the hard-hitting questions I was planning to unleash at the dinner table.

Nathan joshed a little here and there as we readied me.

Shaved.

Combed.

Jacketed even.

"If I didn't know better, mate, I'd think you were nervous about a little girlfriend-family meet-n-greet."

I cast him the wearying eye.

Which of course, he completely ignored.

"She's not my girlfriend, Nathan. And she has a boyfriend, an idiot one. And only if her father tries to fireman deadlift me up to the loo."

He shook his head, as if seeing right through my self-deception.

"Come on then, Cinderella. Your pumpkin awaits."

I smiled slyly.

"Does that make you one of the mice?"

He snarked right back.

"If it does, we'd better have you home before midnight so I can get a start on those tubes."

I shook my head at him disparagingly. Earning a jaunty wink in return.

Good man, Nathan. Good man.

Some little added stuff from me here. 'Cause there had to be a real reason he got so huffy, don't you think?

And I like Nathan. He's cool.

Anyway, thanks to SSun21, shortie1211, DinahRay, and maria190 for reviewing! Very encouraging! :D

Thanks also to annrbananar for adding your support to this story.