A Life Worth Living

by Lorrie Kruse

  He focused on the weight of her hand on his knee. “Life will go on.”

  “That it will.” She pulled her hand away. “I usually do my paperwork after the gym closes down for the day. If you want to come back Monday night, I’ll be here.”

  §

  Matt took Abby up on her offer every night that next week. Wheeling into the dimly-lit gym the next Friday, Matt’s gaze immediately went to what he now thought of as “Abby’s desk.” Seeing her smile made his heart feel lighter. Somehow, she’d gone from a pain-in-the-ass cheerleader therapist to a friend he looked forward to spending time with.

  Halfway to the desk, he noticed she wasn’t surrounded by patient files. She held a red plastic tumbler. He pointed at the Yahtzee score pad. “That what they pay you the big bucks for?”

  “Actually, I’ve got all my paperwork done. I’m on my own time now.”

  A nice person would let her go home. Being nice meant giving up his time on the weights. It also meant giving up his time with Abby, afterward. “No paperwork left at all?”

  “None. Zip. Nada.”

  Damn. “I’ll skip the weights so you can go home.”

  “What? And take away all my fun? I like Yahtzee.” She waved toward the weights. “Go knock yourself out.”

  She looked sincere. But it wasn’t her responsibility to keep him from feeling lonely. “I like playing solitaire, but I wouldn’t stay behind at a jobsite playing cards when I could be at home doing something else.” He pushed himself backward. “See ya tomorrow.”

  “You really don’t need to leave. I know how important this is to you. Besides, I really do like Yahtzee.”

  He should introduce her to Crystal, see if the Yahtzee-loving cheerleader could rub off on his game-hating fiancée. “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  Even though she’d insisted she didn’t mind, he cut his time short to only fifteen minutes. He wheeled over to her desk and nodded at her score pad. “You win or lose?”

  “I won, of course. I always do.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Sounds like a challenge.”

  “Take it any way you want.”

  He pulled off his gloves and slapped them down on the desk. “I take it as you wanting to see what it’s like to lose.”

  She handed him a score sheet and a pencil. “Since I’m going to cream you, you can go first.”

  “I’ll go first, but there’s no way you’re going to cream me.” He picked up the cup and gave it a shake. Four of the dice displayed a single dot. Just one die away from a Yahtzee.

  “Maybe I don’t want to play with you after all,” Abby said.

  “I told you I wasn’t going to lose.” Despite his confident tone, the next two rolls failed to produce a Yahtzee.

  Abby picked up the cup and watched as he entered his score in the ones box. “What? You’re not going to put that in your four of a kind?”

  “The idea is to get a high score.”

  “I know.” She finally shook and let the dice fall to the desk. “I was hoping you didn’t.”

  “That how you win? By cheating?”

  “That’s not cheating.” She pushed aside two dice, scooped up the remaining three, and dropped them into the cup. On the next roll, she kept one die.

  He liked this—sitting here with her in the quiet gym, playing games, just hanging out. “What made you decide to become a therapist?”

  She hesitated, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth like he’d seen her do whenever she seemed uncomfortable. “My mother was injured in an accident when I was ten. She hit a tree. There wasn’t a lot I could do to help her, so I decided I’d help others. This is what I came up with.” She gave a final shake and then pushed the cup toward him.

  “Sorry about your mom,” he said as he took his turn. “Is she…uh…paralyzed?”

  “No.” Her face crumpled as though fighting an internal war. “I often think paralysis would be so much easier to deal with.”

  Paralysis, easier? “Than?”

  Her gaze hit him straight on. “Brain injury. She was thrown from the car and hit her head. Hard. Let’s say she’s got a lot of problems and leave it at that.”

  “Abby, I’m sorry.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “Me, too.”

  “What about your dad?”

  She looked away. “He’s…gone.”

  Gone. As in dead?

  “I love my mother, but I was a daddy’s girl. Losing him was hard.”

  As in dead. On impulse, he put his hand over hers. Her eyes went to his hand and then rose to meet his gaze. The gym suddenly seemed too quiet and they seemed too alone. He withdrew his hand. “Think we should get back to the game?” Or, maybe I should just get the hell out of here.

  She gave the dice a shake. “Tell me about Crystal. How did you meet?”

  “Crystal? I met her at a pool tournament. I saw her sitting at the bar. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off her, she was so beautiful. Still is.” He took the tumbler and shook. “She’s smart. And she’s fun to be with. She’s really good with Kaylee. She’s going to be a great mom.” If she gets the chance.

  He’d experimented late at night. Getting a hard-on was no problem now, but orgasms still eluded him. Even if he could climax, that still didn’t guarantee anything. He knew from reading the brochures he’d been given that semen often backed up into the bladder instead of going out where it belonged. The joys of paralysis.

  He shook the cup and let the dice fall onto the desk calendar. He set aside a four and dropped two threes, a two, and a five back into the cup.

  “Don’t you still need your small straight?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you had one.”

  He shrugged.

  “Talk to me,” she said.

  What the hell. “Crystal and I wanted kids.” He sighed. “I have no idea if that’s possible now.”

  “Technology has come a long way.”

  “Damn it, I don’t want technology. I want to be able to make babies the way God intended. Me and my wife, making love.” He clasped his hands behind his head. Be happy with what you’ve got. Be happy you’re alive. Some people aren’t so lucky.

  He thought of Abby’s dad and how much she missed him. Which made him think of Abby’s hand next to his. A touch between two friends. That’s all. And he never would have thought otherwise if things didn’t feel so off with Crystal. “I just want everything to go back to the way it’s supposed to be.”

  “I wish I had some magic cure, but I don’t. The best I can say is that things will get better.”

  He tightened his fingers and forced deep, even breaths until the blood stopped pounding inside his ears. When he lowered his arms, he found Abby staring at him, her head propped up on her hands.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was just picturing you with a baby in your arms.” Her face softened with her smile. “It’s a beautiful picture, one I know will happen for you. You’ll make a wonderful father.”

  He wasn’t aiming for “wonderful.” If he was half the father his dad was, he’d be satisfied. “I’m hoping I get the chance to try.”

  “You will,” she stated with conviction.

  He tried to picture him and Crystal with their child. Crystal refused to stay in the image. “I wish I felt as confident. About everything.”

  “Everything?”

  Over a month had passed, yet he could still see Crystal’s hand ricocheting off his leg. When he’d first gotten the sensation back she’d touched him, but now she was back to avoiding his legs. What if she couldn’t handle his paralysis? What if they never had children, not because he couldn’t provide the necessary ingredient but because Crystal wasn’t around long enough to make it happen?

  “Nothing.” He picked up the dice and dropped them into the tumbler. “Think we should finish up this game?”

  “Everything? Nothing? That’s a sudden jump to the extreme, don’t you think?”

  He pushed the
tumbler across the desk. “Shake.”

  “I see,” she said. “You’re going to hide from your feelings, huh? That it?”

  “I’m not hiding,” he snapped. Damn it. How had she gone from the annoying pain-in-the-ass cheerleader to someone who knew him so well?

  “Then, talk it out. What’s worrying you?”

  He closed his mouth tight. His breaths blew across his upper lip.

  “That bad, huh?” Abby asked.

  She already knew something was on his mind. “What if Crystal and I get married only to find she can’t handle everything that goes with my being paralyzed? What if I lose her?”

  As soon as the words were out, he realized that Derrick was the only person he’d ever been this open with before.

  “There’s a very real possibility that might happen,” she said.

  “Thanks for the encouragement. I feel so much better.”

  “Do you want me to say it will never happen?”

  He tightened his jaw and crossed his arms.

  “Your injuries call for a lot of adjustments, not just for you but for everyone who loves you. You have to make these adjustments. Crystal doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling better by the second. Just keep raising my spirits, okay?”

  “If you’re really worried about how she’s going to accept the changes in your life, maybe you should do a trial run. Live together for a while before you get married.”

  “No.” He answered without hesitation.

  “Too bad you’re so undecided on that issue.”

  “I’m human, Abby. Far from perfect, but I do my best, and I agree with what my parents taught me about marriage. What kind of a test would it really be, anyhow? If she could walk out whenever she wanted?”

  “Would you rather she walks out after you’re married?”

  That scenario would kill him. Getting married. Thinking life’s great, and then…wham! He could have the honor of being the first person in his family to get a divorce. Wouldn’t that be a fine moment, facing his father with the news. He didn’t even want to contemplate it. “I’d rather we finish this game.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” She picked up the tumbler. “Is talking about your childhood taboo, as well?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have a feeling you’re full of stories of you and Brad growing up.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned forward. “So, tell me.”

  An hour later, he was still sitting at her desk with two squares filled in on their third game and his mouth flapping with yet another childhood memory.

  “…and then I couldn’t figure out how to put it back together,” he said, “so I just screwed the cover on and put the toaster on the counter.”

  “Oh, no.” Abby held the plastic cup above the desk like she’d forgotten she was about to roll the dice.

  “Wouldn’t you know, the very next morning, Ma decides to make toast.”

  She set the cup down without letting the dice fall, her eyes riveted on him. He loved the way she hung on to his every word. Like his stupid childhood memory was important. Like he was important.

  “There I am, sitting at the table, trying my best to look innocent. Ma keeps frowning at the toaster, wondering why the bread hasn’t popped up yet, I guess. She walks over to it, looks inside, and sees the heating elements are gone. Of course, she immediately looks at me.”

  Abby’s eyes grew large as she pressed a hand to her mouth. So expressive. Alive.

  “Don’t know why she never looked at Brad. Anyhow, my dad made me work off the price of a new toaster at a quarter a chore. Took four months to pay it off.”

  “I’ll bet you never did anything like that again.”

  He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Actually, I was back at it within a week. I just made sure I paid attention to what piece fit where.”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you were inquisitive.”

  Even though they’d been laughing and having fun, their prior conversation hung in the air between them, unsettled. He shouldn’t have cared, but he did. “Your idea about Crystal and me living together. It might be a good one, but it’s just not me, okay?”

  “Very okay. You have to do what’s best for you.” She rolled the dice and then looked up with a smile. “Look at that. Instant four of a kind.”

  “You’re going to beat me again, aren’t—”

  Abby’s smile had vanished and she was now looking over his shoulder.

  He twisted around to follow Abby’s gaze. His stomach dropped when he saw Crystal. He smiled and tried to ignore how hot the room suddenly felt. “Hey, babe. It’s not Saturday already, is it?”

  Crystal’s gaze bounced between him and Abby. Had her eyes narrowed? Even just the littlest bit? He wasn’t sure.

  “Jenny wanted to spend some extra time with her sister, so I rode down with her.” Crystal leaned up close to him and put her arm around his shoulder. Marking her territory. “What are you doing?”

  “Just came to lift weights.”

  Crystal eyed his scorecard. “How nice.”

  He looked up at her, trying to gauge her expression. She sounded pissed, but she didn’t look pissed. She looked like her normal, beautiful self. Still, he felt the need to explain. “I figured since Abby was nice enough to stay late, I should play a couple games with her.”

  Abby stood and extended her hand. “Hi. I’m Abby, one of the physical therapists here. You must be Crystal. He talks about you all the time.”

  “Why does that name sound familiar?” Crystal asked as she shook Abby’s hand.

  “Because I was Matt’s therapist at St. Luke’s.”

  “Small world.”

  Matt scrutinized Crystal’s expression again, but her face showed him nothing. How was it that his parents could hold entire conversations without saying a word, and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him if Crystal was angry or if she was just making a statement.

  “So honey, don’t you think we should let Abby go home now?” Crystal caressed his neck. He noticed she avoided touching his surgery scar. “We need to go and make use of our alone time.”

  Her idea of making use of their time alone was to watch a movie on Lifetime. He looked over at her. She sat with her eyes on the TV screen, fiddling with her engagement ring. He took her hand in his. She looked at him, smiled, and then turned her attention back to the movie.

  Just like an old married couple. Was that so bad? At least they were together

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Matt whistled as he wheeled into his room following his Saturday morning sessions a week later. Crystal had been chatty every night this week when he’d called. Things with Abby had settled back into a friendship. Best of all, he’d been given a weekend pass. If things went well, in another week, he’d be on his way home.

  The next twenty minutes dragged on. Finally, he heard their voices drifting down the hallway. When Crystal kissed him, he uttered a contented sigh as their lips met. The loneliness of the past week without her melted away. This weekend was going to be good. No. Scratch that. This weekend was going to be great.

  “You ready to go?” his father asked. “Or do you still need to pack?”

  Go. His heart did a little dance. He loved the sound of the word, even if go only meant leaving the center for one night. A trial run before they let him loose, for real. He nodded to the duffel bag by the door. “Everything I’ll need for the night.”

  “Ready, then?” his mother asked.

  More than ready. He grabbed his coat off the bed while Crystal claimed the canvas tote.

  His father looked down at him. The corners of his mouth lifted. “This weekend will be nice.” He nodded as though that cemented the thought.

  “Next weekend will be better.”

  “Yes, next weekend will be better. It’ll be good to have you back.”

  Back. The movement of Matt’s arms faltered on the word. He’d be b
ack home but not back at the jobsite.

  Crystal fell in beside Matt. “I think Jenny will miss coming down here to see Faith.”

  “Well, I’m not going to stay here just to make her happy. I’m eager to go home. Get back to real life.”

  Real life. What was “real life?” He’d expected “real life” to be what he’d left. Him, walking. One fourth of Huntz & Sons Construction. Future husband and father. Unless a miracle happened over the next week, he was going to have to alter his vision.

  His father had parked Jenny’s mini-van in one of the spots reserved for patient pickups, the space wide enough to aid in wheelchair-to-vehicle transfers. Matt had spent hours practicing with Esther, but he was far from “skilled,” and he needed every inch of room allowed. He pushed the wheelchair arm away and inched himself toward the edge of the seat. Piece of cake. Brave words. He felt uncoordinated. Three pairs of eyes staring at him didn’t help, either.

  “Here.” Crystal straddled his feet. She put her hands on his arms as though that’d help, somehow.

  “I can do it,” he said as he nudged her.

  “I was only trying to help.”

  “You can help me more by getting out of the way.” He’d tried to say it gently, but the words had come out harsh with his own irritation.

  She stepped aside. Her bottom lip stood out.

  “I’ve got to do it on my own, okay?”

  The lip went back in, but she still looked miffed. Tuning her out, he focused on the sessions with Esther. Drawing forth her instructions, he hurled himself into the mini-van’s front seat. A less than perfect transfer, but he felt good about it, anyhow.

  Crystal got into the backseat beside Matt’s mom and slid the door closed with more force than necessary. He’d never noticed before how childish she could be. He took a calming breath and then looked over his shoulder. “Babe, I know you want to help, but some things I just have to do on my own. Transfers are one of them.”

  “I know.” She stared ahead.

  “I appreciate that you want to help. The wanting to help, that’s what matters.”

  The hard line of her lips disappeared. She looked his way.