I finally returned this evening after running half a dozen errands with Claire, impressive since I'd already gone four places with Dave and had an almost sleepless night. At the end of our street, my headlights illuminated Katie and the first guy she has dated since the tragedy standing in front of a brand new motorcycle.
You know I read a lot. I told Mark if this occurred in a book, no one would buy it. It's too much. The main character spends all those months bedridden, begins to get to her feet after a fatal traffic collision and WTF?!
Anyway one cleansing breath later, we got out of the car. Jake showed me his red Ducati. I firmly explained that he was to use extreme caution because we don't want to visit him in the hospital - or worse. While we do not have jurisdiction over him, I also let him know in no uncertain terms that Katie is NOT to ride it EVER. To his credit, he responded with a "yes ma'am" and went back home to get his car so they could go see a movie.
Poor Kate still started shaking and called Jake's mom to make sure he made it. We hate it but I told her to pray that lightning doesn't strike twice. She is making incredible progress in a horribly difficult grieving process. I wish I could shield her from any more pain.