by Nancy Loyan
“All the medical talk is well and good. However, will I walk again?”
“There’s a good chance at recovery, hopefully, with time.”
“Hopefully, with time?” He swallowed hard.
“You should get some feeling back in a couple of weeks. You’ll be transferred to the Spinal Cord Unit until you heal. You will then be sent to a rehabilitation facility for intensive therapy.”
“How long?”
“Recovery from such a severe nerve injury isn’t fast. It’s going to take months, maybe a year or more. It will be slow, but steady. I’ll be honest, it’s not going to be easy.”
Travis closed his eyes. Shit. He really got himself into a mess. He had fallen off horses more times than he could remember. All he suffered were black and blue marks, and a bruised ego. Nothing had ever come close to being as serious as his current predicament. What about his job at Culver? What about his life?
“Your parents and fiancé, and her parents have been worried sick, and holding vigil in the waiting room,” the doctor cracked a smile.
Parents? Fiancé? The Collingsworths? Great. They had wanted him to leave Culver for some administrative job running a thoroughbred racing farm and program. Looked like their wish could actually come true. If he couldn’t walk, he couldn’t ride, and certainly couldn’t instruct riding, and direct a troop from a wheelchair. Wheelchair! How could he run a farm or do anything while in a wheelchair? This was a nightmare. He scrunched his eyes closed, hoping that he would just wake up and continue on with his old life, the life he loved. Yet, he opened his eyes to this new reality, and it sucked.
“I will get better? I won’t be left a paraplegic for life?” He met the doctor’s steady gaze.
“As I said, there are no guarantees. One day at a time.”
“That’s not what I want to hear.”
“The odds are in your favor, that with time, you will walk again,” the doctor added.
With time? Time. He wasn’t a patient person. This was going to be hell.
“Should I send you parents in? They’ve been anxiously awaiting your awakening?”
Travis sighed. “May as well get it over with.”
* * *
Travis’ father barged into the room like he owned the place, his mother trailing behind. Once at his bedside, the senior Harrington looked down at his son as if he were a toddler.
“You put quite a scare into us,” his father said. “We flew here as fast as we could.”
“I put a scare into myself. I don’t know what happened,” Travis replied, meeting his father’s intense gaze.
“You were in that alumni polo match, and took quite a fall. You are damn lucky to be alive.”
“You think?”
“Don’t be so hard on the boy.” Travis’ mother stepped to her husband’s side. She reached down and stroked Travis’ arm. Her touch was warm and inviting in such a cold and sterile environment. “I’m so glad that you’re awake. Things are going to be fine.”
“With time,” Travis muttered. His focus turned to his mother, with her trembling smile, and gentle touch.
“Yes, the doctor said that with time, everything will work out,” she assured.
Travis’ father shrugged. “You have quite a road to recovery ahead. This has certainly thrown everything up into the air … the wedding, the job change, the move … the future.”
“All of that can wait, can’t it dear?” His mother appeared to address both his father and him. She stood and straightened.
“We haven’t a choice,” His father shook his head.
“Penelope is in the waiting room, anxious to see you,” his mother said.
“May as well send her in.”
* * *
After his parents left, Penelope hesitated in the doorway before entering. She looked more like a frightened young girl than a grown woman. For the first time in their knowing each other, her dress was wrinkled and her hair in disarray. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in hours. He surmised that she probably hadn’t.
“Oh, Travis,” she gushed, rushing to his bedside. She pulled a chair up to his bedside and sunk into it. “You’re alive. You’re awake.”
“I guess I am.”
“I was so worried about you. You had everyone so scared. Ever since you fell off that horse, it’s been like a bad dream.”
“In polo, I was supposed to stay on the horse.” He forced a smile. “Accidents happen, and I guess it was my turn. It seems that you’ve had quite an adventure … Culver, Plymouth, and now home to Chicago?”
“Adventure it was. Your new friend Shelby was an angel.”
“Shelby?” Now, she had his interest piqued.
“We were seated together during the polo match. She kept me sane when you fell, and never left my side. She drove me to the hospital in Plymouth, and here to Chicago.”
“Is she here?”
Pen shook her head. “She had to head back to Michigan. We didn’t know how long you’d be out of it, and she had responsibilities back home. She’s an amazing person.”
Didn’t he know? Apparently, Shelby came to the rescue, just when Penelope and he needed her most. He closed his eyes, and swallowed hard. Too bad she didn’t stay. Seeing her face and hearing her twang would have made the situation brighter.
“You’ve given me quite a fright.” Pen took his hand in hers. “I’m still frightened about what the future will bring.”
“One day at a time seems to be my new mantra,” Travis said. “My focus has to be on getting stronger, and walking again.”
“I’m calling off the wedding. You can’t have a ceremony without a groom. I … I’m not moving to Lexington until we know what’s going on. You certainly are in no condition to work. Your health is most important.”
“Pen, don’t stress over all of this.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s don’t make any plans until we know the outcome. I’m facing some challenging months.”
Tears formed in her eyes, and she choked on her words, “I want the old Travis back.”
“I know.” He wanted the old Travis back, too.
14
Shelby sat in her kitchen nursing a cup of coffee. If she had opted to drink anything stronger, she would already be passed out on the sofa. Goodness knows, she could have used some tequila. She had driven for miles, hadn’t slept in hours, and her mind was spinning from everything that had occurred. She couldn’t sleep, and dawn was already breaking with a cacophony of birdsong. Soon, chores would be due. Dogs and horses had to be fed, watered, and exercised. The construction workers on her new riding center and stables would be gathering to go over the plans and division of labor. Saws and nail guns would be interrupting her peace and quiet.
All she could think about was Travis. His tragic fall replayed over and over in her mind like an instant replay. Her short visit in his room, as he lay comatose brought tears to her eyes. He was so pale, so still and vulnerable, with the beeping machines, the swoosh of the breathing tube, and all of the connected wires and lines. Though the doctor had been reassuring, she wondered if he was indeed telling the whole truth. Would Travis really recover and walk again?
His parents and fiancé seemed to be as skeptical as she. His fiancé. Penelope was genuinely concerned and scared. Rightfully so. She had actually felt sorry for the woman. After all, she had her wedding and her future mapped out, and in a split second it all fell apart. All the pieces of her best-laid plans were in ruins.
As for herself, Shelby didn’t know where she stood. She had felt more for Travis than mere friendship. Yet, after meeting Penelope, she viewed her as a new friend. Friends would never hurt one another. A friend would never lust after a friend’s fiancé. Shelby sighed. Was she always to be a bridesmaid and never a bride, so to speak?
She had just glanced over the morning paper, when an article in the Living section caught her eye. The society photograph was of her old boyfriend and his wife announcing the birth of their first baby. Daniel O’Brien was the onl
y man she had dated after Abram’s death. She thought that he had potential, until she realized that they were really opposites. He had found a better match with a society debutante, Samantha Evans. Yet, a tinge of regret washed over her. The couple in the photograph were smiling, and obviously in love. They now had a lovely daughter, Annaliese, to dote upon. Was she one day to see a similar picture of Travis and Penelope?
* * *
Construction on Horsepower, the name she selected for her rescue and therapeutic riding center, was progressing at a feverish pace. The project kept Shelby’s mind off of Travis. Mounted on Rusty, her American Quarter Horse, she oversaw the sturdy wood beams of the main building being hoisted into place. The reality of her dream coming true jolted her. Watching concrete being poured, seeing the paddock areas and riding arena being staked out marked progress. Hard-hatted workers trounced over her property like soldier ants on a mission. Heavy equipment lurched and beeped. The earthy scent of fresh-dug dirt permeated her nostrils. She drew a deep breath. Here’s to new beginnings.
* * *
A phone call interrupted her quick lunch. Probably another contractor. She checked her cell, and the phone number was unfamiliar.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Shelby?” a woman asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Penelope, Penelope Collingsworth. Remember me? I’m Travis’ fiancé.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I remember you.” She gripped the phone, in fear of the news being grim. “Is … is everything okay?”
“As best as could be expected. I thought that you’d like to know that Travis has been discharged from the hospital, and is in rehab at Serenity Acres. He’s actually been regaining some sensation in his lower body, waist and hips. He no longer requires a catheter. It’s a good sign.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“Yes, it’s just frustrating. I don’t know what to think. The doctor says that he may have permanent bowel and bladder issues. He may be impotent.” Her voice trailed off.
Shelby closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. That’s not what a man wants to hear, yet alone his fiancé.
“Doctors don’t know everything,” Shelby assured.
Penelope sighed. “I guess. You were so kind to me through all of this, I just wanted to keep you updated, and you’re so easy to talk to. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I welcome all news. I truly want the best for Travis, and for you. I’m here whenever you need to chat.”
“Thank you.”
“By the way, Travis would like to thank you for helping me. Do you mind if I give him your number to call?” Penelope asked.
“That would be great.” Little did Penelope know that it would be better than great. Talking to Travis, after his ordeal, would mean more to her than anyone would ever know.
* * *
When Shelby answered the phone to Travis’ voice, her heart melted.
“Hey, how is the angel who helped Penelope during some of my darkest days?”
“I’m far from being an angel. Penelope just needed a friend, and I was there.”
“She would have had difficulty managing on her own. I know that she’s grateful.”
“She’s actually a nice person. I can see why she’s your fiancé.”
There was a moment of silence.
“How are you doing Travis? You sound good,” she asked, changing the subject.
“As long as I’m kept busy with therapy, seeing people, and talking on the phone, I’m fine. It’s those dark moments when I’m alone that send me into a funk. Not being able to walk sucks. Not being able to feel the lower part of my body is even worse. It’s scary. I can’t imagine a future like this.”
“You are making improvements?”
“Ever so slight. Gee, I am actually beginning to get a little tingling in my thighs. Nothing profound.”
“It is progress. Better to be improving than not.”
“I’m just so impatient.”
“I’d be worse in your situation. I know it.” She chuckled.
“Hey, how is construction going?”
“Gangbusters. The center is going to be completed earlier than expected at this rate. I’ve already begun interviewing staff. I still can’t thank you enough for making all of this possible.”
“What name did you select?”
“Lets just say that I’m just glad you didn’t die in that fall, I’d be guilted into naming it the Jonathan Travis Harrington III Therapeutic Riding Center.”
“I would have haunted you, if you dared to do that.”
“It’s called Horsepower. After all, horses have the power to heal.”
“I like it. I like it a lot.”
“You will be here for the ribbon cutting?”
“I’ll make it a goal.”
“Actually, I have an idea. When it’s open in a few months, I can see you being a client.”
“Can you now?”
“Absolutely. I will have an on-site building with suites to accommodate overnight, extended-stay clients. We will offer Hippotherapy. You will be an ideal candidate.”
“To swim with Hippo’s?” He chuckled.
“Ha-ha. You know, it’s an integrated approach, using horses as part of occupational, physical, and sensory therapy.”
“Hmmm. You really want me back on a horse?”
“Definitely. I can’t imagine you living without horses and riding. If you are anything like me, horses are in your blood.”
“I confess, I am like you, and they are. Sounds like a plan.”
The rehabilitation center where Travis was sent after his stay at the hospital was like a Ritz Carlton on steroids. The name, though, Serenity Acres, sounded like a damn nursing home. His parents selected a place that pulled out all the stops. They also made sure that it was located close to their estate in Connecticut. The grand Tudor structure had once been a private mansion. It, and acres of manicured grounds were repurposed into a private medical rehabilitation facility. Modern amenities were added, with the most technically advanced equipment and therapies. It included alternative therapies like massage, Reiki, acupuncture, and guided meditation. Food was organic and locally sourced. Each patient had a private handicapped accessible suite with a seating area, hotel-like bedroom and elegant bathroom with walk/roll-in shower. Fresh flowers were set in vases on tables. Each patient also had an aide, that acted as a nurse and butler. In other words, it was like home, when your home was an elegantly appointed and staffed estate.
After a grueling therapy session, where he had been hoisted, prodded, and pushed beyond his ability, Travis was resting in a plush leather recliner in his private suite.
He just closed his eyes when a knock interrupted his nap. He looked up to see Paul swagger in.
“Hey, Travis. Don’t bother to get up to greet me.” Paul grinned as he approached the chair.
“Paul!”
Paul reached down and they embraced. Standing, Paul swiped tears from his eyes, “Travis, I know that you weren’t in a hurry to get married, but did you have to pull out in such a dramatic fashion?”
“You know me.” Travis shrugged, grateful for some movement. He choked and swallowed hard. He hated Paul to see him in such a vulnerable state.
“I’ve known you too long. So, how’s it going? Making progress?” He pulled up a chair.
“It’s going slowly, like watching grass grow.”
“That’s not good.”
“I’m getting a little tingling in my hips. That’s called progress.”
“Tingling anywhere else?” Paul winked, and chucked.
Travis didn’t think it was funny under the circumstances. He hadn’t any sexual sensations. No hard-on in the morning, as he used to have with regularity. Just a limp member, devoid of any sensation whatsoever. Hell, he was peeing in a damn diaper. He certainly didn’t want to discuss his personal issues with anyone, not even with his best friend.
“Paul, it’s not funny. Impotence is a side
effect. I’m hoping it’s just temporary. No one knows. Hell, no one knows what the future will bring for me overall.”
“When I heard the news, I was stunned. I’m just glad that you’re still among the living. If anyone can beat the odds, it’s you.”
“You seem to have more faith in me than I have in myself these days.”
“Don’t get all melancholy on me.”
“How are things going with your family and Penelope? I bet her family is going nuts with their best-laid plans being ruined. Hell, you were supposed to be married … when was it? Yesterday?”
“Really?” The date got passed him.
“I was supposed to be your best man. I wouldn’t forget the date. Looks like you dodged the bullet.”
“It’s not like I’d go through all this misery just to postpone a wedding.”
“I know. It’s just ironic.”
“Actually, I’m rather surprised as how well Penelope’s been taking all of this. Her mother has been in a tizzy canceling everything, while her father is angry about all the wasted money … deposits … and a Lexington property that no one is living in.”
“How are your parents?”
“More concerned, than anything. The cancelled wedding hasn’t affected them. They’ve actually been more worried about my needs.”
“Culver?”
“They’ve been wonderful. They’ve hired an interim to do my job, but insist on leaving the position open for my return. They’ve told me that even if I have to return in a wheelchair, the job is still mine. The interim would become my assistant, my legs, so to speak. You have no idea how reassuring that is.”
“Sounds like things are going well, considering the circumstances.”
“Yeah, considering.”
“Hey, any word about that woman you endowed with your trust fund? Did she ever build that therapeutic riding center?”