by Naomi Niles
Then he said, “I’m on my way in to see my friend. I’ll walk with you.”
Great. I wonder if he’d still be so interested if I told him that my boyfriend is a bull-rider who collects guns in his spare time, drinks like a fish, and loves nothing better than a good fight. I thought about Dylan. He’d come home at three a.m. this morning and as usual, he was to blame for my bad start to the day. He’d wanted sex, and I tried to say no. I could smell the whiskey as soon as he’d walked into the room. I pretended to be asleep, but he knew I was faking it and within seconds of him stripping down and climbing into bed with me, his drunken hands were everywhere. I eventually gave in just so he’d leave me alone. The drunken bastard barely managed a few thrusts before he had his orgasm and passed out. It took me another hour to fall back asleep as my mind once again went through all of the reasons I should leave him.
My new “friend” Greg and I walked through the hospital lobby together. When we got to the elevators he said, “Are you going up?” the truth was that I needed to, but I also needed to get away from this guy.
“Not for a while. You have a nice day and thank you again.” I saw it on his face – he was about to really hit on me, ask for my number or something. I looked away and said, “Oh, there’s my co-worker, I have to run.” I left him standing there and walked as quickly as I could towards a group of nurses I didn’t even know. Once I was around the corner, I slipped into one of the family quiet rooms and tried to organize my mess. I was here today to assess two patients that were being discharged and the mess in front of me was medical records that the hospital had faxed to the clinic.
Once I had things at least looking neat, I took my bag and went back to the elevators where I’d left Greg. I got on and pushed the number five. My first patient was an elderly lady on the skilled nursing unit. I stepped off the elevator in front of the nurse’s station and Addy, a girl I’d known since high school, was there.
“Amber!”
I smiled at her. She and I were never friends in high school. She was kind of a stand-offish bitch back then, to be honest. She’s a nurse now, and obviously more mature and professional, but she still made me slightly uncomfortable. “Hi, Addy, how’s it going?”
She curled her lip. “It was a full moon last night – they’re still residually crazy.” I laughed. People who don’t work in health care or law enforcement have no idea how true it is that the full moon makes people lose their minds.
“Sorry,” I told her. “I’m here to see Edith Sweetwater.”
Addy rolled her eyes. “She’s one of the craziest.” From what I’d read of her chart, Edith is a sixty-two year old with early Alzheimer’s that had recently had a stroke. The doctor thought she would need speech and physical therapy, and that’s what I was here to assess her for. Addy showed me to her room and then slipped out quickly. It didn’t take me long to find out why.
“Lizzy, unhook this bra for me.” Edith was wearing a hospital gown and I doubted there was a bra underneath it. She was reaching behind her like she was trying to get ahold of it. Her arms were short and kind of chunky, as was the rest of her. “Come on, Lizzy, I need to get this thing off.” I had no idea who Lizzy was, but since I was the only other one in the room, I assumed she meant me.
“Edith, can we just talk for a few minutes? My name is Amber Reed-”
“God damn it, Lizzie! Unhook this bra!” I sighed and went closer to the bed. I reached behind her and pretended to unhook something, letting my fingers brush against her bare back. I looked at her face and she looked relieved. “That’s so much better. Thank you, honey.”
“You’re welcome, Edith. Can we talk now?”
“Sure, Lizzy, but hand me the cat first.” That was about how our entire conversation went. Her speech seemed pretty clear to me, but it was hard to tell where the Alzheimer’s ended and the problems the stroke caused had begun. The physical assessment was easier, but it still took a lot longer than I’d anticipated. By the time I was back on the elevator to go up and see my next patient on the sixth floor, I was over an hour late.
I read some of his file as I stepped off the elevator. His name was Kyle Cloud and he was twenty-seven. Six days post-surgery for removal of a benign tumor located in his pre-frontal cortex, the doctor was referring him for speech, occupational, and physical therapy.
“When is she going to get here? My brother is getting impatient!” I walked past the nurse’s station barely registering the raised voice until I heard the nurse’s response.
“There she is! Amber.” I stopped and turned around. A woman with long, dark hair and big, angry-looking, dark eyes was looking me over. I forced a smile. “Amber, this is Sarah Penner. She’s Kyle Cloud’s sister. You’re here to see him, right?”
I nodded at the nurse, Sue, and looked back at the other woman. “Yes, hello, Miss Penner. I’m sorry I’m so late, it’s been one of those days.” The woman’s eyes softened a little bit.
“It’s okay. My brother is just getting impatient. It’s hard to understand him and he gets really frustrated and angry.” She and I started walking towards her brother’s room.
“That’s normal – and understandable,” I told her. “I can’t imagine being able to think clearly, but not being able to convey what I’m thinking. That would have to be so hard.”
She seemed to soften a bit more as she said, “Yes, and he’s always been a really independent guy. It’s hard for him to have to ask for help with everything.”
She led me up to room 612 and as soon as we walked through the door, my eyes landed on a blond head in the corner. It was Greg…just great. There was another man there, too, sitting at the bedside. He stood up when we walked in. This guy was huge and looked like an Indian from one of those old cowboy movies. My eyes went to the man in the bed. He was looking at me with these incredibly soulful, dark eyes. His head was still bandaged and he had multiple IVs running in both of his arms. When I smiled at him, I think he tried to smile back – but his lips barely moved.
“You must be Kyle. I’m Amber Reed from Dallas/Ft. Worth Therapy Associates. Dr. Grant wanted me to evaluate you for some therapy when you get out of here.”
“Yest…oday.” He groaned after the words came out of his mouth.
I smiled and said, “That’s right, he wants to discharge you today.” There was that crooked little smile again. He was happy that I understood what he meant. That was good; we were starting out on a good foot. I looked at his sister and said, “I’m going to ask the three of you to step out for just a few minutes while I evaluate Kyle…”
“He won’t be able to answer your questions. You’ll need me here-”
“Sarah.” The big man spoke in a voice as big and deep as he was.
Greg got to his feet and although Sarah looked frustrated she said, “Okay… We’ll be right out in the waiting room if you need us.”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll come and get you if I do.” She went with the other two men, reluctantly. I hoped that no one noticed the way Greg’s blue eyes roamed my body again before he left the room. When they were gone, I looked back at Kyle and said, “This sucks, huh?”
That time he managed a much brighter smile and then he said, “Fucked-up.” It was funny how the powers of profanity seem to hold on the hardest.
“So, Kyle, let me tell you about our clinic…” I told him how long Dr. Jasper had been in business, where we were located, and about our staff. Then, I went on to tell him about the different types of therapy and asked him if I could give him a little verbal quiz that I use to assess my patients. He nodded, and I began asking him questions.
I could tell that he knew the answers – his address, his telephone number, what he does for a living – but most of what he said didn’t make a lot of sense. He seemed to get more frustrated as we went on, so I changed tactics and started with my physical assessment. I had him hold his arms and hands in different positions and squeeze my fingers. His left hand seemed to be a little weaker than his
right, but mostly the coordination was off. I moved to his legs next. I abruptly felt like a pervert when I saw most of his body. He had a runner’s body, with long muscular legs and tight muscles in his biceps. I shook that off and finished my assessment. His left leg seemed to be impaired, whereas his right leg moved about normally. That was classic in relation to the surgery he’d had recently.
“Okay, Kyle, so here’s the deal. I’m going to set you up with therapy at our clinic three days a week to begin with. You’ll have speech and physical therapy, for sure. You seem to be swallowing okay, but we’ll keep an eye on that. I know this is all scary and frustrating, but you’re young and otherwise healthy, and if you give it a 100%, you should be back to business as usual very soon.”
He smiled and instead of trying to speak, he gave me a little nod. He never took his eyes off of my face, and it was both unnerving and kind of sexy.
What the hell is wrong with me? The poor guy just had brain surgery and I’m over here thinking about how sexy he is. I’m officially losing my mind.
Chapter Three
KYLE
My big, silent father slipped my foot through my jeans and helped me pull them up. Even if I was able to talk like a normal person, I wouldn’t be able to put into words how humiliating this is. When they were up enough for me to grab them, he lifted me under my arms and held onto me while I finished pulling them up and buttoning them. To be twenty-seven and have to get dressed under the watchful eye of your father is a special kind of torture. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful as hell that he’s here. If not for him, Sarah would be the one doing all of this and that would really just be way too much to take.
“Thank you,” I said. It sounded more like “Ank u,” but he got the point. He sat me down in the wheelchair and ruffled my hair like he did when I was twelve – careful not to touch the bald spot where the staples still were. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and shuddered. That therapist that came to see me was so pretty… God, I hope her ugly, male co-worker was going to be the one I worked with and not her.
“I wasn’t able to get another day off…” My dad felt guilty about going back to work. The week he’d taken off while I was sick was the most time he’d gone without working for as long as I could remember. Working was how he recharged his soul, I think – at least, since my mother abandoned all of us when I was only a year old. Somehow, Dad managed to care for a baby and a toddler and we all survived.
Mom showed back up with two new kids when I was about eight and Sarah was ten. My father didn’t say much, he never did, but he let us see her. Sarah told her off. She was always wise for her years, and she told our mother that day that anyone can make a baby. Just because she made babies, that didn’t make her a mother. She’d stormed out of the house after that and gone to look for my dad. I stayed for a while because I felt guilty, but the woman felt like a stranger to me and the next time she wanted to see us, Sarah and I both refused.
“It’s okay, Dad,” or as he probably heard it, “I okay.”
He handed me my ball cap and I gratefully put it on. Covering up the staples on my head at least makes me feel more human. “Kyle!” Dad and I looked at each other, and his lips curled up on the edges. Sarah was here to take me to therapy – that would be fun. Mostly, I just felt sorry for the people who worked in the clinic.
“In here,” Dad called out to her. She looked frantic when she came in.
“Kimber is sick.” Kimber was my five-year-old niece. She was one of those kids that manage to completely melt your heart every time she smiles. They hadn’t let me see her since I got home and I really missed her.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.
“It’s just the flu, I think, but I had to keep her home from school. Mrs. Brown from next door is watching her now, but she can’t stay. I called Michael, but he’s out at the jobsite and he’s stretched really thin without you…”
“It’s okay,” I told her. I said it really slowly and it almost sounded natural.
While I was busy being proud of myself she said, “Greg is taking you.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Kyle, but he’s been really sweet. He was at your bedside every day. He’s been doing whatever he can to help. He loves you… Tell him, Dad.”
My poor dad once again looked like he didn’t want to get involved. Instead of singing Greg’s praises to me he said, “I can call off work.” Shit! I knew he didn’t want to do that. It was bad enough he had me living here and had to do every fucking thing for me. He needed work for his own peace of mind.
“No,” I forced out.
“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Sarah said again. I rolled my eyes at her. I know it’s not her fault, but the last person I wanted to spend my day with was Greg.
“Anybody home?” Speaking of…he just let himself in my father’s front door like maybe he still belongs here.
“We’re in here, Greg,” my traitor sister told him. She kissed my forehead and whispered, “Be good.” Then, I watched as she gave my father a peck and even stopped in the doorway and kissed Greg on the cheek. What is it with this guy and the women in my life?
“Hey, buddy! You look great!” Fuck you. I said it in my head, but hopefully the look on my face conveyed the sentiment. “Mr. Cloud,” he said, giving my dad a chin tilt. Dad was like me – he knew how to hold a grudge. He kept his dark eyes on Greg’s face until Greg finally had to turn away. Thanks, Dad.
“I’ll see you tonight, Kyle. I left lunch in the microwave, and I’ll pick something up for dinner when I get off.” I can make it around the house in my wheelchair pretty well so that was my saving grace in the afternoons – they let me actually stay home alone like a grown-up.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Once he was gone, I was left alone with Greg. “So, are you ready?”
I nodded, and he started to grab the handles of the chair. I used my arms and rolled myself through the bedroom door and across the living room. He rushed up ahead of me and opened the front door. I wheeled out and down the sidewalk towards his car. When I got there, unfortunately, there was nothing else I could do but wait and let him help me. He opened the door, put his arms under mine, and helped me get to my feet. Then, he pivoted me so that I could lower down into the seat of his new Mustang. Sarah must have given him lessons. If I weren’t still pissed at him, I’d be impressed.
Thankfully, he didn’t try to talk to me on the way to the clinic. He helped me out again when we got there and because we had to cross a busy street, I had to let him push me. He rolled me in and took it upon himself to tell the girl at the desk my name. I guess that was a good thing since she probably wouldn’t understand me, but once again, it still pissed me off.
While we waited, I looked around the lobby. Most of the people there were elderly. There was one kid who was maybe fourteen there with his parents. He was in a wheelchair and he had some kind of tube coming out of his stomach and attached to an IV pole on the back of the chair. I averted my eyes when he saw me looking.
That’s when the door opened and Amber stepped out. Today, she was wearing a pair of green scrubs and the color made her green eyes pop. Her dark hair looked soft and shiny laying down across her shoulders. I wanted to run my fingers through it. She saw me, smiled, and then her smile faltered when she looked next to me at Greg. I looked at him and he was grinning. Of course.
“Hi, Kyle,” she said. “Are you ready?”
I nodded and felt Greg jump up and grab hold of the chair. Amber gave him a look of…annoyance, maybe? Maybe I just wanted her to be annoyed with him. It made me happy. “I can take him back, Greg, thank you.”
Greg? How does she know his name? I felt her propel me through the door and into a big room that looked like a gym. She parked me at a table and then she came around front where I could see her. Damn, she’s pretty. She reached down and brought up a wipe-off board with those magnetic alphabet letters that everyone spells things on their refrigerators with when they’re kids. “We’r
e going to start with some sounds,” she said. I had to tear my eyes away from her green ones and force myself to focus on the board. This wasn’t going to be easy.
*******
Amber led me through sounds and she even touched my throat a few times to feel my vocal cords as I tried hard to enunciate them. Part of me felt like an idiot and hated that a woman like her was seeing me like this and the other part felt lucky as hell that I’d get to spend three days a week with her. She smiled a lot and she was encouraging – and even in a shapeless pair of scrubs it was easy for me to see how cute and curvy she was. When we finished with that, we moved on to bigger things. She used a children’s book and had me reading passages of it out loud. Things like, There’s a Wocket in my Pocket. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more humiliating, I did in fact have a “wocket” in the front of my pants. Thank God for the table.
After a few books, she announced that was it for today. “I’m not going to walk?” I waited and hoped she understood me. She did.
“Not today,” she told me with an empathetic look. “We’re going to give you another week and see how much of your strength comes back before we start pushing you too hard. We’ll work on speech this week.” I nodded and looked forward to the day when I got to lean on her body as she helped me walk. She stood up and went around behind my chair. After taking the brakes off, she pushed me over to the door of the lobby. “You have it from here?” she came around in front of me and asked.
I nodded again. “Thanks.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you on Wednesday.” She pushed the door open and held it while I went through. I got a whiff of her perfume as I rolled by…damn she smells good enough to eat. I could see Greg’s face, and his eyes were on my therapist. I’ll be damned if he was going to have this one. I used my arms to do a little wheelie in the chair and then I spun it around so I would be facing her. She was gone.
“Nice, man,” I heard Greg say. “You want to get some lunch?”