At that, some of the tension eased from Chris’s expression.
I, however, found the situation almost ridiculous. He knew exactly what mattered most to me: Matty’s condition and Gemma’s mobility problems.
When Matty was born, the doctors said specialized therapy offered only a one percent chance of recovery. So, for ten years, rain or shine, I carried Matty on my back for miles to the town clinic each week.
Regarding Gemma’s bad leg, I also consulted a doctor. With regular massages and medication, there’s hope for improvement.
So for ten years, without fail, morning and night, I massaged her bad leg for an hour each time. I even learned proper techniques from the doctor.
Carefully, I helped her leg recover from being unable to touch the ground to walking again, and to give Chris enough money to start his business, I sold everything my parents had left me.
Even while keeping our household afloat, I set aside the money from grain sales each month to support him.
When Chris finally returned to the present moment, guilt and a hint of heartache surfaced in his eyes.
“Nadine, the medical facilities in the city are better than the town’s. Let us take Matty there for treatment.”