by Lynn Donovan
He stared at the closed door. “What just happened?”
Chapter Seven
William leaned over the side of the table, and pushed the button to lower it as low as possible. He struggled and army crawled off the table with his arms, dragging his legs behind him. “She just left me here!”
He pulled himself into his athletic wheelchair and shoved out the door. “How dare she just leave me on that table!” He muttered all the way to the elevator. But then he stopped, staring at the sensor. Was she right? Did his lavish lifestyle put him in his wheelchair? If his dad’s empire crashed, would any of them know how to survive? He didn’t even have cash. He’d never needed it. He just told people what he wanted, and it got bought. Even the Health and Fitness studios across the United States, the lawyers handled the purchase. Was it his name’s fame that made him successful? Or did he do any of this on his own?
He turned his chair around and for the first time since he arrived on the island, he went outdoors in his wheelchair. He rolled down to the Health Food Store and struggled to pull the door while maneuvering the chair. Someone spotted him and held the door. “Mr. Holliday! Let me,” the man said. William looked up and realized he was the store clerk. “Thank you, Howard.” He shoved in and wandered up and down each aisle.
“Is there something I can help you find?” Howard seemed nervous.
“No, I need to find it on my own.” William heard his gruffness and swallowed. “I mean, thank you, but I want to look first.”
“Alright. Let me know if I can do anything,”
“I will.” William continued searching. Finally, he found the tea and coffee section, but there was no Folgers. Now, he needed Howard’s help. “Uh, Howard. I’m needing to find a container of Folger’s coffee. Do we stock it? Or can we order it?”
Howard rushed out from behind the sales counter. “No. We don’t stock it, sir. I was instructed to never stock such ordinary brands as that. We have an excellent selection of gourmet and organic coffees—”
“Yes, yes. I realize that. But now I’m interested in getting Folgers. You see, Anya likes it and I want to get it for her.”
Howard stood straight and grinned like a possum. “Ah, your physical therapist. I see… So do you want me to stock it for the store, or just for your private supply in the café?”
William dropped his eyes to the polished wooden floor. “Right now, I just want to make her a cup of coffee that I know she’ll enjoy.” He hated how weak his voice sounded, but a sense of desperation had humbled him to the point of begging.
“Mr. Holliday, if that’s the case, I have some in the back. I’ll be happy to loan you enough to make a pot. This girl must really be special.”
“Yes, she’s special. Why would you do this?”
“Never allow a cup of coffee to stand in your way of true love. Like neighbors loan a cup of sugar, I’ll loan you enough Folgers to make a pot. And I’ll order her some for the future. Should be here in a day. We airlift all our supplies.”
William’s eyes widened, “Nobody said anything about true love, I— I just want to make her happy… I—”
Howard smiled. “Trust me, I know love in a man’s face when I see it.
William smiled. “Well, thank you.”
Howard ducked into the back room and came out with a coffee filter, wrapped it with twine and handed it to William. “Here you go. Enough for one pot of Classic Roast Folgers. Good luck.”
William tossed his head back. “Yes! Classic Roast. That’s what she said was her favorite!” He looked at Howard and then frowned. “Why do you wish me good luck?”
Howard grinned. “Because you made this young lady mad and now you’re trying to make it up to her with something special. So… good luck.”
William set the filter in his lap. How did Howard know he’d made Anya mad? But he nodded just the same. “Thanks again.”

Anya laid on her bed and cried. It was the first time she’d cried in… she couldn’t remember how long. Certainly not since she’d been here in Alaska. It had been over two months. Thanksgiving was awful and Christmas just a few weeks away. Suddenly she missed home, Mom, Emily, Charlie, Lisa, Everybody. She missed having a thanksgiving feast with her work family and then driving north to her parents and having another huge meal. She would feel like she needed to run twenty miles to burn off all the calories, but it was worth it.
At the Comet Health and Fitness Holliday Island they had a chef-inspired Thanksgiving. Some gourmet pheasant-under-glass with a fancy-schmancy stuffing that didn’t even taste like stuffing. She rolled over and cried into her pillow.
She just wanted a butterball turkey and cornbread stuffing with too much sage and rosemary, cranberry sauce in the shape of the can it slid out of and sliced into thin layers, canned yams smothered in brown sugar and butter, green bean casserole with mushroom soup and fried onions on top. Pumpkin pie baked from frozen and a pecan pie thawed, no cooking needed. That was home to her. That was something to give thanks for!
What would Christmas dinner be like here?
A knock on her door, made her turn back over. “Now what?” She sat up and wiped her eyes. She looked terrible. Running her hand through her hair, drawing it back away from her face, she walked to the door and opened it just enough to see who it was.
“William!”
He had a tray in his lap with two coffee cups on the tray. It smelled good, actually. She opened her door more. “What do you have?”
He didn’t shove his way in, like he normally did. “Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… do whatever I did to upset you.”
“You have no idea why I’m upset, do you?”
He pursed his lips and finally looked up at her. “No. But I think it has to do with this.” He gestured to the tray. “So I went down to the Health Food store and Howard didn’t have any Folgers in stock, so I asked him about it. He said he could get it by tomorrow, but in the meantime he loaned me a filter full of some Classic Roast, like a neighbor loans a cup of sugar, and I brought it back to my quarters and made you a pot. There’s more next door if you want it.”
Anya stood straight and tall. Tears filled her eyes, again. She stared at the two cups, filled with the dark liquid she loved so much. “You borrowed enough to make one pot?”
“Yeah.”
She stepped back from the door to allow him passage. “Come in.”
He rolled forward and set the tray on her coffee table. “Here.” He lifted a cup. She took it and sat down on the couch, as she brought the cup up to her lips. She sipped it gingerly and closed her eyes. “Hmmm. That’s home.”
He smiled and took a sip from his cup. “Not bad.”
“It’s the thing that makes me happy. I could never make Charlie understand—” She opened her eyes and looked at William. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I realized today, I don’t like it when you’re not happy. In fact, I think—”
She stared at him, waiting. “What?”
“Nothing. Enjoy your coffee.”
She did. When they had drained their cups, William took the tray with the empty cups and rolled toward her door. “So, are we still on for lunch and an afternoon workout?”
She smiled. “How about a game of HORSE?”
“Basketball?” He grinned. “You play basketball?”
“I have three brothers. It’s how I got them to do my chores. We played HORSE in our driveway and the stakes were each other’s chores for a week. I had to get good to beat them.”
He laughed. “So, how good are you?”
“I didn’t take a single sack of trash out for five years.”
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
After lunch, they continued his work out. Anya was no longer silent. She told him about her struggle with Charlie and his organic coffee-“like” teas, his loathe for caffeine, and how she had sent her intern to buy a whole new coffee pot so she could have her Folgers separate from Charlie’s co
ncoctions.
She had strapped William’s lower half in a new frame she’d ordered last month. He held a round weight, meant for the quick-lift barbells, against his chest. He’d worked his way up to a thirty-five pounder and lifted his upper torso from his waist, building his back and abdominal muscles.
With her story about Charlie and the struggle to get a decent cup of coffee, William laughed so hard, he dropped the weight and hung upside down at a ninety degree angle, gasping for breath. Tears rolled up his temples. Anya leaned against his hips and laughed, too.
“I can see why this issue with Folgers is so important to you. Now, I get it.” He laughed.
She shook her head. “I’m ridiculous, I know, but I love my Folgers.” She whined, wiping tears from her eyes, too.
William turned his head to gaze at her from his odd angle. “I love… that you love your coffee so much.”
She stopped laughing and stared at him. “Let’s get you out of this, before all your blood runs into your head and causes brain damage.” She helped him to straighten and unstrapped his legs from the frame, then eased him into his chair. “You know, I think you are ready to start wearing that exoskeleton, but only for a short while.”
“Seriously? That’s great.”
“Well, I say that, but I really don’t know much about that thing. Can we go slow and let me observe you with it on?”
“Sure. Of course. I put it in a closet down the hall. You want to take a look now?”
“Yeah, no time like the present.” She chuckled. He rolled ahead of her and she followed. He pulled a huge storage box out of the closet and she helped. Together they brought it back to the Bowflex room. He took it out of the box and unfolded it, like a transformer, until it stood on its own.
“Wait. May I?” She stepped in front of him and squatted to examine the hinges and straps. “Hmm, this looks like titanium or something indestructible.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be an ironman suite if it could be dented.”
She tilted her head and her brows leapt up on her forehead. “I suppose you’re right. Can I wear it and get a feel for how it works?”
William stared at her in disbelief. “Sure.” He smiled. “Just stand against it, and I’ll strap you in.”
“No wait, how do you get in it?” She still squatted in front of it.
“I lay it down and, just… roll into it.”
“Hmm. Let me do it that way.”
“Okay.” He eased it down to the floor and she laid beside it. Considering how she would bring her body on top of it without using her legs, she managed to get on top and then she strapped it on her waist, then pushed herself up with her arms to sit on it, and strapped her legs in at the thigh, calf, and ankle, then feet, like old-fashioned roller skates strapped to one’s shoes. “One has to be limber enough to reach their feet.”
“Right.” He handed her a small rectangular devise. “This is the controller.”
She looked at the thing. It was the size of a zippo lighter and had several colored buttons. “What do I do?” She pushed a green button and her right leg rose in the air. “OH!”
William laughed. “Yeah, it takes some getting used to.” He showed her the different functions and how to make the exoskeleton do what she wanted. After about a half hour of moving and making mistakes, laughing and squealing, she stood with the machine wrapped around her and walked herself out of the room. William followed her in his wheelchair.
“This is amazing. How much does one cost?”
“Well.” William swallowed. “It’s a prototype, so the price hasn’t been set yet. I paid more than you want to know to buy enough shares of the company to make me a major stockholder. So I guess it cost that much.”
“Yeah, I guess you did.” She looked sad all of a sudden. “Do they have any projections for what one of these might cost. I’m just thinking of so many of my patients who would love to get into one of these for special occasions, like a wedding, or a homecoming… you know?”
William stared at her. “Yeah. I can see how one of these would be excellent for those occasions when one wants to stand up…” His gaze dropped to the floor. “And… be a man.”
“Or a woman. I have women patients, too.” Anya tried another movement and nearly tipped over.
“Sure, a bride would want to stand at her wedding, too.” William’s eyes softened.
“William.” Anya walked herself over to him. “Maybe you can have an influence on this company, as a major stockholder, and actual user of the product, to produce these machines at a cost that normal people could afford.”
He found himself lost in her eyes. She made the machine squat beside him. He reached out and touched the side of her face, cupping his palm along her cheek. She was a beautiful woman. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulders in swirls and covered the logo on her scrubs. He gazed longingly into her burnt amber eyes, leaned toward her, and brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. Suddenly she shot back away from him and landed on her bottom, squealing, and then laughing. “I squeezed the controller! By the way, don’t do that!”
He laughed. “Lay down and take it off. It’s my turn.”

Anya changed out of her scrubs and into street clothes. It was her routine. By suppertime, William was willing to do leisure activities which let her be off duty. They ate together in the café and walked, while he took his wheelchair, through the gardens when the weather wasn’t freezing. But those days were long gone as Christmas approached. They sat by the blazing fire in the common living area or strolled along the roof run which had a controlled environment but an amazing view of the grounds and the aurora-streaked sky. It was dark longer than it was light, now, but there was a certain kind of beauty about that, too.
She had gone online and ordered everyone presents to be delivered directly to them. She hated the distance between her loved ones, especially at Christmas, but her time here was almost over. By the end of December, her trial ninety days would be finished, and William had met and exceeded her rehabilitation plan for him. She’d even let William get back into his exoskeleton because she knew his body could handle it now, but only for a limited amount of time. So Gordon would be happy— she supposed— and probably offer her the bonus of a clinic of her own, as he had promised.
Then, today, William kissed her.
What was she thinking? Never, never get involved with a patient! She chastised herself. Even if that patient was chosen the most eligible bachelor and cute as a bug’s ear! There were times when she would love to walk away and tell Gordon she couldn’t do this. Insist he call Roger Moore and fly her home. Then there were days like today, when William borrowed a filter full of Folgers from the guy who runs the Health Food store and made her a cup of coffee, just because it would make her happy. She sighed. Day’s like this made her want to stay. For how long? She couldn’t say, but longer than the required ninety days, for sure.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and touched lip gloss to her lips. It was past time for supper. She went to the table where they always sat. William wasn’t here yet. Here she thought she was late, he was nowhere in sight. She sat and the waiter rushed over to fill her water glass. “Would you like a Coke?”
“A Coke? Sure!” She couldn’t believe they had Coke now. Before it wasn’t available. The waiter came back with a throw-away cup, plastic lid, and red and white striped straw. “What is this?”
“Your Coke, Miss Stepanov.”
“Where’d it come from?”
“I-well, I—”
“I made it.” William rolled out of the kitchen’s swinging door. “And I made this.” He gestured to a cart behind him that another waiter was pushing. Two plates were on the cart, with silver covers. The waiter brought the cart alongside the table as William rolled into his place across from her. “Go ahead.” He said to the waiter and the man lifted the covers.
Anya gasped and clasped her hands under her chin. “C
heeseburgers… and fries!” Her eyes darted to William. “You made this?”
“Yes. Well, under the constant supervision of Chef Huang, but I did everything myself.” He smiled. “It’s harder than it looks.”
She laughed and lifted her Coke. “Well, thank you!” She tapped his Coke and drank from her straw. “Mmm. Let’s dig in.” She lifted the burger and took a big bite. Closing her eyes, she moaned. “Mmm. So good.” She said around the bite. Then popped a French fry into her mouth. “Perfect! How’d you do this?”
“I own the place. If I want to learn to cook, Chef Huang is obligated to teach me.”
Chef Huang stuck his head out of the swinging door and gave her a thumbs up.
She laughed. “Thank you, Chef!”
“My pleasure!” he said and disappeared into the kitchen.
“But… it’s red meat… wait, this isn’t a turkey burger or a veggie burger, is it?”
“No. But it is grass-fed beef, organic and wholesome.”
Anya grinned. “I can’t believe this.”
William reached across and laid his hand on top of hers. “I told you, Anya. I want you to be happy.”
“Well, you succeeded in that.”
“Good. So, can I ask you a question?”
She lifted her eyes to meet his. “What?” she took another bite of the juicy cheeseburger.
“Will you… consider… staying on at the island?”
She stared at him, even stopped chewing. “Like, continue to be your personal physical therapist?”
“Yes.” He smiled sweetly.
She put her burger down on the plate and folded her hands. “But I have a practice in Westfield. I told them this was just for ninety days.”
“But Dad’s paid your last two years’ debt. You’re free to go wherever you want.”
“Maybe, I want to stay at Westfield.”
His eyes darted between hers. Did he not believe her?
“Look.” She put her hand over his this time. “This… excursion has been… amazing. But I miss home. I miss my parents and my friends. I never intended to stay here forever.”