I opened the suitcase, taking out what had to be adult crutches, although they looked like they would fit a child. “Here you go.” I looked closer as he pulled them apart. “They’re retractable? Hey, those are cool.”

“Are you finished pretending this doesn’t bother you?”

“You’re the one who’s bothered.” I came around and sat beside him. “Why didn’t you take your prosthesis off on the plane?”

“Ryan...” He shook his head.

“Teo...” I mimicked, then I nodded. “Lie back. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll do the honors. How hard can it be?”

“I’ll do it. Just leave.”

“Do I pull?” I paused. “No, wait. Now I remember. There’s a button somewhere at the bottom, a pin. Then I pull.”

He started to push me away, then he stopped, cocking his head. “How do you know that?”

“YouTube. I have a natural curiosity, and now I have more than general knowledge about below-knee amputations and jazzy new legs.” I felt around his ankle and discovered the pin on the side. “May I?”

His expression softened from angry to annoyed. “You are a nutcase.”

“You knew that going in, buddy.” With that I pushed the pin, and Peg slid off. What was left of the leg he’d been born with was covered with layers of sock-like material.

“The padding makes the prosthesis more comfortable?”

He lay back against the sheets and stared at the ceiling. “It makes it fit so what’s left—”

“Residual leg?”

“Yeah, or call a stump a stump.”

“So the sock thingies make Peg fit with no rubbing.”

“You are just full of questions.”

I lay down on my side and turned so I could brush his hair back from his forehead. “So with all this protection? What’s hurting?”

He didn’t look at me. “It sounds crazy.”

“Even more interesting.”

“Pain in the foot they took off.”

I schooled myself not to show even a hint of sympathy, which I knew he would hate. “Phantom pain. I’ve heard of that. What happens?”

“Sometimes it feels like the Inquisition is pulling off my missing toes with pliers. Sometimes it’s more like I stuck them in a light socket. Today? Both.”

That sounded awful, but I kept my voice as light as possible. “How often does it happen?”

“More at first. Rarely now.”

“The trip did it?”

“Probably.”

“You have meds? Can I get them?”

“Over the counter, and I’ve taken them. I don’t go with the heavy stuff. I gave that up with the leg.”

“Will it help if I massage it?”

He propped himself up. “Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“Trying to make this sound like no big deal.”

“Pain is always a big deal. But if I’m too casual, it’s your own fault. You’ve made the amputation sound like nothing since the day I found out about it. You’ve been a big macho guy. But guess what? It’s huge. To you especially.”

“I’ve moved on.”

“I don’t care if you have half a leg or no leg or three legs. You’re here. Against all odds we’re here together. I’m crazy about you. I’m crazy about Peg. She’s a star. But if I can do anything to help you feel better? I’m in.”