by Naomi Niles
“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 d
o 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’re 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?”
CHAPTER FOUR
AMBER
Dylan was loading his tack in the beaten up and rusted trailer as I drove into the driveway. He hadn’t mentioned leaving again so soon, but that was nothing new. Dylan did what he wanted when and with whom he wanted.
“Where are you going?” I asked as I walked by on my way to the house. I honestly didn’t care. I spent most of my time wishing that he would find his soulmate on the road and never come back. But as long as we were together, I thought I should at least try and be civil.
He looked out at me from the back of the trailer. I remember when there was nothing or no one that I’d rather look at. I used to think he was so handsome. Nowadays, I was usually so disgusted with him that it was hard to see beyond that. He smiled and for a fraction of a second, I almost remembered. Then he opened his mouth.
“Headed up to South Carolina… You shouldn’t wear that color.”
I looked down at my green scrubs. I knew better than to engage him, but sometimes he caught me off guard. “Why not?”
He ran his hazel eyes over me and said, “It’s too bright, I think. It calls attention to those thunder thighs…or maybe you’re just putting on weight again.” With a disgusted sigh, I continued towards the house. I could hear him calling after me, “Aw, come on, baby, don’t be like that. If I didn’t tell you, who would?” I slammed the screen door as I went inside and nearly tripped over a pair of his boots. I picked them up and threw them across the living room that was littered with his dirty dishes and clothes. Fucker!
By the time Dylan came inside, I’d had a long soak in the tub and straightened up the house. I was just about to put dinner on when I felt him step up behind me. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his hands on my waist. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into my ear. “You know sometimes I just don’t think before I say stupid things.” I twisted out of his grasp.
“It’s fine, Dylan. Do you want biscuits for dinner?”
“I ain’t gonna be here for dinner, baby. I need to get on the road.”
I was facing away from him, thank God. I’m sure a look of relief washed over my face. At least, I wouldn’t have to pretend to be sleeping tonight to get out of having sex. I heard him open the refrigerator and turned around just as he was popping the top on a Coors Light. He took a long swig and then held it out towards me. “You want one?”
“No.” I went back over to the stove and started putting the bacon I was frying in the pan.
Suddenly, I felt him
slap my ass and the next brilliant comment out of his mouth was, “You might want to take it easy on the pork, baby.” I faced the stove until I heard him leave the room.
He left about a half an hour later, telling me he’d be back sometime late in the week. I said my prayer once again that he’d meet Miss Right at the rodeo, and then I sat in front of the television and ate the entire plate of bacon and two huge biscuits. I was so stuffed and miserable that I could hardly move afterwards, but it gave me a sick kind of pleasure knowing I’d somehow defied him.
As I was washing dishes, my sister Marlene called. I have three of them – all older. They all hate Dylan, and they all think I’m still twelve years old. “Hey, Marlene, what’s up?”
“Can you do me a huge favor on Thursday?”
“I will try.”
“Can you pick Nona up from school?” Nona is my six-year-old niece.
“Um…I have to work…”
She sounded like she was going to cry. “Okay, then, I’ll see what else I can figure out-”
“No, wait, I can change the schedule around. What’s wrong?”
“Jackson’s stupid lawyer called a mandatory custody meeting. I feel like I’m having a heart attack every time I think about losing her, Sissy!” My sisters all call me Sissy. It started when I was born and the rest of the family picked it up. Even my nieces and nephews call me “Aunt Sissy.”
“Oh, Marlene, honey, I’m sorry. I really don’t see any reason for that to happen, though.”
“Jackson has the money. The judge is going to look at the paltry salary I make and-”
“And add in the alimony and child support and the fact that even broke you’d be a fabulous mother. Try not to get yourself too worked up, honey, okay?”
“I’m trying. I need a distraction, I think. Maybe while Jackson has Nona this weekend you and I can do something?”
I groaned inwardly. I love my sister, but I hate going out with her. She’ll bitch about Jackson all night, get drunk, and try and go home with some slimy cowboy. Then, she and I will argue and she won’t speak to me for two weeks. It happens every time. “I think Dylan will be home,” I said, using my ace in the hole. She despises Dylan. “I could see if he wants to go with-”