Audrey had waited for this day for months. It was the day Charley Chilton got into his wheelchair. Apparently, he'd tried it out on his own before allowing her to see him in it, but she didn't mind; she considered this his first time in the contraption.

When she'd arrived at the hospital that day, the nurse at the nurses' station had greeted her, saying "Today's the day, isn't it, Audrey? We're so excited for Charley!"

They all knew her, and she was pleased. She'd never been happier than she was, now, and her happiness came from the genuine love of being around Charley. He was her soul-mate—not in the get-married-and-spend-the-rest-of-their-lives-together sense; no, it was not like that. It was more as though they had always been destined to meet, like he was a part of her heart that had split off and found its way back to her. She loved talking with him, laughing with him, and just plain being around him. Perhaps other people might think it strange that a teenaged girl found such joy in hanging out with a disfigured invalid, but she didn't care. With every day that passed, she was growing less cognizant of what her life was like before meeting Charley, and even though her father had originally forbidden her to keep seeing him, it had been easy to disobey him and continue her visits to the hospital. She didn't even feel guilty about it, now that she knew the truth of the matter; her father felt ashamed for his role in the story, but as Audrey saw it, that was his problem, not hers.

Charley wouldn't at first let her in his room. Initially, when she arrived that late afternoon, he'd called for her to wait outside. His physical therapist was with him, he'd informed her, and she was at that very moment helping him into his wheelchair.

But after only a few minutes, Charley was instructing her to come in, which she did with great anticipation. The moment she saw him sitting in that chair, Audrey gave into her girlishness and squealed with glee. Charley laughed as much as he could, and the girl ran up to him and carefully hugged him. He was actually dressed in a roomy sweat-suit, with socks covering his feet and a stocking cap on his head to cover his baldness.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Audrey asked with a smile, noticing for the first time how much more human he suddenly looked.

Charley, who could not entirely hold up his head on his own and had his neck propped with something resembling an airplane pillow, replied, "I thought you were taking me outside."

Audrey gasped. "Really?"

"If you want to."

She looked to his physical therapist for permission; the woman nodded. "Oh my gosh! This is so exciting!" Audrey jumped and clapped her hands. "Charley, when was the last time you were outside?"

His face indicated what Audrey knew to be pensiveness. "Almost a year," he said.

"Wow! And I'm the first to go with you! Can I push the wheelchair?"

"You'll have to," Charley replied, "if you expect it to go anywhere. I can't do it myself, yet, though I'll learn."

Having never felt so excited, Audrey listened to a few instructions on how to operate the wheelchair and where exactly to go, and then she and Charley were off. When she wheeled him past the nurses' station, the two adults there grinned and expressed their happiness at seeing the boy out and moving. They made their way to the elevator, took it down a few levels, and then wheeled a few halls toward a courtyard expressly set up for patients in need of fresh air and a bit of the outdoors. The area was surrounded on all sides by hospital wings; there were no sidewalks or paths leading beyond the hospital, but there was grass and trees, and there were benches and flowers. In the warm afternoon sunlight, the place glittered like a crown jewel to the two. Audrey had never been so pleased to sit outside. In utter content, she wheeled Charley to a lovely little spot where a willow tree hung over daisies and irises and a host of other colored planets. She sat on a wooden bench next to him, in his wheelchair, and the two of them talked of everything and anything they could think of. The sun fell upon them like warm butter; Audrey kept Charley in the shade of the tree so he would not get hot. They'd been advised to stay out no longer than half an hour, so they relished their moments together.

Toward the end of their time limit, Audrey noticed a stranger approaching them. She thought nothing of the nearing woman at first; there were several other people out and about in the courtyard, but when she realized the woman had singled them out and was expressly heading toward them rather than strolling about aimlessly, she said to Charley, "There's some woman coming this way."

The boy clearly could not turn his head, and Audrey didn't want to turn the chair for fear of drawing attention to themselves.

"What does she look like?" Charley asked.

Audrey attempted to remain surreptitious, glancing out of the corner of her eye. The woman was yards away. "Blonde hair, maybe in her forties, kind of tall and thin—real pretty, I think, but older." Charley didn't say anything. Audrey looked down at him and saw his eyes widen. "What? What is it?"

Instead of answering her question, he pleaded, "Just stay with me, ok, Audrey? Don't leave, even if she asks you to."

The girl was confused but promised him in a whisper, as the woman had reached them. She rounded the side of the wheelchair and glanced at the boy within it.

"Hello, Charley," the lovely woman said with a benign smile.

Charley didn't even look at her, but Audrey beamed a grin. "Hello! Can we help you?"

Looking at the girl in amusement, the woman replied, "I'm Charley's aunt. I just came to spend a little time with my nephew." She extended her palm.

Audrey realized she was meant to shake the woman's hand and did so. "Oh! Sorry. My name is Audrey. I'm a friend of Charley's."

"Yes," said the aunt. "I know. The nurses told me as much when I called this morning."

Charley continued to stare off into space, refusing to look at his aunt.

"Would you mind leaving us for a bit, dear?" the woman asked Audrey.

"Actually, I would mind. I have so little time out here with Charley." She flashed a sparkling smile. "And I was here first."

The woman's grin thinned. "I see. Charley?"

"I want Audrey to stay, Aunt Kate," he insisted. It was the first time Audrey had ever heard force in his voice, and she liked it.

"All right," Kate conceded. "Do you mind if I at least sit down with you? I would like to talk to my nephew."

Audrey scooted over a bit closer to Charley, so Kate had to be the one to sit further away from him. The girl was amazed at what was happening. If Charley had told her correctly, this woman had neglected to visit him for months, merely paying for his care but refusing to see him. Now, she'd shown up out of nowhere wanting to talk to him, and Charley wanted her—Audrey—to be there. This woman was the very one that had had an affair with her father, the woman who had cold-heartedly lied to her only nephew just to get him out of the house and use him as an excuse, the woman who had essentially led him to the state he was now in. Audrey reviled her.

Kate looked very nervous, but neither the boy nor the girl would speak. They just glanced at one another, entirely content not to say a word. But this woman had not come just to feel awkward. She appeared to want to say something; she rubbed her knees and took several breaths as if about to begin speaking, but then she'd retract whatever her words might have been, only to try again seconds later. Audrey and Charley had to do their best to keep from snickering, but at last, the woman did say something. "Charley," she began, clearly floundering for courage as much as words. "I wanted to come talk to you, today. I've been thinking for a long—" She glanced at Audrey, who returned her look with a blank face. "—a long time. I've been thinking about you."

"That's surprising," Charley said, startling both the woman as well as the girl.

His sarcasm seemed to encourage Kate. She breathed heavy-heartedly and swept her hair behind her shoulders. "I know," she admitted. "I know, it's surprising. But the worst part is that it should be. I've been so incredibly callous, Charley. What I did to you was so horribly self-centered and vile that I . . . I didn't want to think of it. I'd be lying if I said I felt affection for you at any point before your accident, and I couldn't bear coming to see you afterward not only because it reminded me that I'd been the one to—to cause it, but also . . . also that I'd been a terrible human being in not caring for you prior to it. There's nothing I can do or say that will ever make up for what I've done, Charley, and the only reason I'm here now is because I've been thinking about how meaningless my life has been. So even my being here is a self-centered act. And it's incredibly sad, but . . . but I don't know any other way to be."

Audrey was wide-eyed. What was going on, here? Was this woman apologizing? Because it sort of sounded apologetic, but her tone was also a bit self-righteous, as if his aunt was trying to explain away her actions. It didn't make a lot of sense.

Charley just sat there. Audrey wasn't sure what he was feeling, so she placed her hand on his and remained silent with him.

Kate watched the girl's motion with an almost envious expression. This, too, astounded Audrey. "Like I said . . . there's nothing in the world that can make up for the way I've treated you. I understand if you never want to see me again. If you ask me to never come back here again, to set you up with your own place and pay you off for the rest of your life, I'll do it."

"And what would I do with money?" Charley asked bitterly.

Audrey squeezed his hand a bit, not wanting him to upset himself.

The woman's mouth and chin trembled. "I—I don't know, I just—"

"Money is what you wanted, Aunt Kate. Or people, maybe." Charley began coughing and Audrey stood to get him a cupful of water from the fountain next to his chair. After he'd drunk, he added, "I don't want your money. Just keep paying them like you have been and I'm fine with that. I have a real friend, now. Someone who cares about me more than you ever did. And I'm going to be walking again, someday. Surgery can maybe slowly get me back to looking like somewhat of a person. Just pay the hospital bills, Aunt Kate."

The woman nodded brusquely. "All right, then." She rose. "I . . . of course." She clutched her purse, not really appearing too shocked by his response. "And I won't bother you again, Charley. You'll never have to see me again."

"No!" he cried, so loudly that Audrey startled and Kate jumped.

"I-I beg your pardon?" the woman asked.

Charley actually moved his head to look up at her. "I want you to come visit me every single day, Aunt Kate. Every day."

She was utterly dumbfounded. "Y-you do?"

"Yes. Every single day."

"You really want me to come visit you—every day?"

"Exactly. I already said that."

His words sank into the woman's brain. Her mouth alternated between an open gape and an attempting-to-emerge smile. "W-w-well, then. I—I suppose I'll—I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"You damn well better."

Nodding her head, the woman stumbled off, clearly in a state of shock. She looked over her shoulder more than once on her way out of the courtyard, and Audrey thought she was smiling. When their visitor was out of earshot, the girl looked at Charley. "You really want her to come see you every day?"

He smiled his slit-of-a-smile at her. "Absolutely. It's a lot more difficult for her to see me. She'd love it if I told her to never come again."

Audrey sensed that Charley half-wanted to torture his aunt but was also half-pleased to think she'd make the effort to come and visit.

"So it will be me and her, huh?"

"Yes. Will came for his last time yesterday. Thank God. I don't ever want to see him again."

"I don't blame you." She stood and began to wheel his chair back down the path.

"He was so scared of me," the boy added. "I felt sorry for him."

"You felt sorry for him?"

"He's just a person. He didn't mean for this to happen; it just did. Maybe I'm the one with the visible scars, but he'll live the rest of his life with scars, too."

The girl smiled. She carried on with Charley the rest of the way back through the hospital and up the elevator, back to his room. There, she stayed for another two hours, until darkness had fallen and it was time for her to head home. He was beautiful to her, and she was beautiful to herself, too.