Reaching Rose (Hunter Hill University Book 3)

by Grider, J. P.

  But now, I'm lying in recovery where visitors are not allowed, and I've woken up without Rose anywhere to be found. This thought frightens me more than the operation they just performed on me.

  I had a hard time deciding on which operation to have done, and I couldn't talk to Rose about it. As much as I love her and could probably talk to her about anything else, I just could not bring myself to talk about this decision with her. Because, truthfully, I did not think I could deal without two-thirds of my leg. I never considered myself vain, but this...whole ordeal has made me think, maybe I am. I mean, I realize that there are prostheses out there that could help me walk and run, so why? Why has this decision been so difficult to make. Then I think about having sex with Rose. We've only made love once. How am I supposed to do that now? Is that vain? Or is that a legitimate worry? Will I be able to...get it up, or will I constantly have my missing leg on my mind? So how could I tell that to Rose? When she went so far as getting herself garter belts and stockings to cover hers up? How could I ever have told Rose my final decision?

  I couldn't.

  So I didn't.

  Besides...she never asked.

  I think something deep inside her didn't really want to know.

  But I need her here. Now that it's all said and done, all I want is Rose. All I care about is Rose. And that same thought had crossed my mind early this morning. All that matters to me is Rose.

  So at the last possible minute, I made the decision that would make Rose most comfortable. She'd never again have to worry that her missing limb was something I found unattractive, or something I thought made her less of a human being.

  Because now...

  I'll be missing part of my leg too.

  And she can find comfort in knowing that I am no different than she is.

  But she'll never know my reason for my final decision. That would just cause her pain.

  ***

  When I'm finally rolled into my room, Rose is waiting in the hallway with my mother, my father, my sister, and my brother. They're told by the nurse that they can see me two at a time and for only five minutes each, but all I really want to see is Rose.

  I catch her smile on my way into the room, but I know she won't be the first in to see me. My mother will want to be first.

  "Oh, Benito, how you feel?" she asks when she walks in, her eyes already seeping tears.

  "Eh." I'm quite groggy and can barely stay awake to speak.

  "Oh," she cries and kisses me on the cheek.

  "Domenica, basta, he doesn't need your crying right now," my father tells my mom.

  "'Sokay, Dad," I manage to mumble. "I'm okay, Mom. Tired."

  "Yes, yes...you sleep, Benito."

  "Ma? Can you just send in Rose? Before I fall asleep?"

  My father answers instead, "Si, certo. Let's go, Domenica. He want to see la sua ragazza. Benny," my dad says, "we be in the wait room."

  "Grazie, Dad."

  Rose steps in apprehensively, as if she's afraid to come in.

  "Rose," I murmur when she approaches.

  "How do you feel?" Her voice is soft. Unsure.

  "Better now that you're here."

  She blushes. "I'm supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around."

  "You are—" I reach for her hand "—just by being here."

  She takes my hand, and I notice her eyes dart toward the bottom of my bed, but they're back on my face in an instant.

  "They amputated it," I say in answer to her silent question.

  Her eyes close, her shoulders droop, and her whole body drops.

  "Rose...Rose. Oh my God." I struggle to find the remote, then I press the nurse's call button. "Help," I screech out.

  My brother comes running in. My parents and my sister follow. "What the hell?" one of them says at Rose's form sprawled out on the floor.

  Her hand comes up. "I'm...I'm fine."

  My brother is picking her up when the nurse comes in. "Oh goodness, put her here..." She instructs my brother to place her down on the empty bed next to mine.

  "What happened?" the nurse asked.

  "She...passed out, I think." I can barely talk I'm so groggy, but I'm worried about Rose.

  "Really," I hear Rose say, "I'm fine."

  I hear the nurse asking Rose questions, and I think I hear Rose answering, and I really am worried about her, but I'm fading quickly and everything's disappearing.

  ***

  When I wake up next, it's sometime the next day. Rose is sleeping in the chair by the window, and it hits me that she literally felt like this...and a huge truck actually did run her over. She looks so uncomfortable the way she's sleeping, but I stare at her for a while and wonder if she slept here all night.

  "I told her she could stay in the bed, but she wanted no part of it." The nurse comes in and starts fussing with the machines around me.

  "Did she stay all night?"

  "Yes. They wanted to admit her last night, but she wouldn't let us. She's over eighteen, so we couldn't force her. She signed a release."

  "Admit her? Why?"

  "Because she passed out."

  "What? When?"

  "Yesterday. I was told she was talking with you, and then she just went down."

  "I'm fine." I hear Rose's sweet voice to my right.

  "Rose." She's standing next to my bed now and running her hand up and down my arm.

  "How you feel?" she asks me.

  "I'm good. A little pain right now. But...you passed out?"

  She rolls her eyes. "I'm glad you don't remember."

  "Remember?"

  "Okay, son," the nurse interrupts, "I'll give you two some privacy. I'll be back." She leaves and closes the door.

  "So, I was awake when you passed out?"

  "Unfortunately."

  "What happened?"

  She lets go of my hand and pulls up her chair. "You...well...you told me you had...your...it...amputated."

  "And that made you pass out?" I ask, not getting it.

  She nods.

  Then she cries.

  "Rose?"

  "I'm so sorry. I really am. You wanted to keep it and then I was saying all that stuff about infections, and I was selfish, and now you had it taken off, and I...Oh, Ben, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you...." She's rambling and sobbing at the same time. She only stops because her words get stuck in the tears in her throat.

  "Rose. Rose." I place my hand on top of hers and squeeze as tightly as I can, considering I'm weak as hell right now. "Rose. It was my decision. Mine. I'm a big boy. No one makes me do anything I don't want to do. I swear to you. My choice."

  She's still crying, but she seems to settle down a little. "Really?"

  "Really. Did you pass out because you thought you made me do this?"

  She's frowning and her eyes look so sad. "I don't know, Ben. I don't know why I passed out, but I remember feeling so sad that you...you lost your leg and...I know I made you feel bad about me and then I remembered how devastating it was when they told me they had to remove part of my leg and I thought, 'Oh my God, he's gonna be devastated too,' and...and the thoughts kept coming and I just couldn't get..."

  "Rose." I squeeze her hand again. "Stop. You're gonna do this to yourself again. Just...it's okay. I'm okay. I really, really am. I had time to make this decision. You didn't. So there's a difference. I'm oh...kay. Please know that."

  She nods, but still looks devastated.

  "Please smile, half-pint. I need to see your smile."

  She smiles. It doesn't reach her eyes, but it's a start.

  "Now tell me...does this fuckin' pain go away any time soon?"

  She shakes her head. "I don't think so, but I woke up almost two months after mine was amputated. I think you're probably gonna be in a lot more pain than I can remember." She still has tears running down her face.

  "Please stop crying, Rose. Please. Seeing you sad makes me sad. I don’t want to be sad right now...and I’m in so much fucking pain.


  They have me so drugged up, but it still fucking hurts."

  "Yeah...I can tell you're drugged up,” she says, trying to rein in her tears and wiping her face with her sleeve. “You're kinda talking slow and slurring some words."

  "Shit."

  "It's okay. It sounds cute. But go to sleep, Ben. I'll be here. You need to sleep, I can tell. And I’m sorry I cried. I’m...I am."

  "Half-pint, it’s okay. Really. But don't stay. Go to school." I squeeze her hand, but my grip is quickly losing squeezing power. "I'm just gonna be sleeping or poked and prodded or whatever they have planned for me."

  "I really want to stay."

  "Dance, Rose. You just started dancing again. You got a routine going. Please, for me. You can come back on the weekend. Don’t stop your life while I’m here. ‘Kay? You’ll go home and dance. For me?”

  "I guess." She sighs and leans across my chest. "I'm so sorry," she cries.

  "Rosie, stop. I'm fine." I rub my hand on her back, but then we're interrupted by the door opening.

  Rose stands up, and I can't believe who just walked through my door.

  "Hi, Ben. I hope this isn't too soon."

  "You're the scout for the..."

  "Yup. The New York..."

  "Oh my God, why are you here?"

  "We have an offer to make you."

  43

  ROSE

  Forty-five minutes.

  That’s how long that New York team’s scout has been in Ben’s room.

  I couldn’t leave and go home; not before I knew whatever offer it was he was making Ben. So I’ve been sitting out here in the hall, waiting for him to walk out.

  SO I CAN FIND OUT!

  Another ten minutes later, the man walks out. Thank God.

  I’m a little nervous going in, but I don’t hesitate. “What was that all about?”

  “You didn’t go home?”

  “How could I? That Major League scout comes in, says he wants to make you an offer, how could I leave? So, what kind of offer?”

  “Oh my God, Rose, I had to force myself...to stay awake...but...”

  His eyes keep closing.

  “He wants...”

  His eyes close again.

  “Me...”

  I touch my fingers to Ben’s face, “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

  “But I have to ask you what you think abo...”

  “Ben, stop forcing yourself to stay awake. I’ll wait.”

  “But...”

  “I’ll wait. Sleep.” I lift his remote and lower his bed so it’s more comfortable for him to sleep.

  For the next two hours, I read If I Stay and try to concentrate on the story. But mostly, I’m wondering what the heck a Major League scout would offer an undergraduate with cancer and a missing leg.

  Drawing me from my thoughts, I hear, “You stayed.”

  With no hesitation, I stand and toss my book onto the seat. “Hey, sleepyhead. I told ya I’d stay.”

  “Thanks,” he says smiling. “Kiss?”

  I bend down to kiss him. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, babe...let me just...” He presses the button on his remote. “Adjust...there. Better.”

  “I lowered it before. Thought you’d be more comfortable.”

  Ben takes my hand and squeezes it, but he doesn’t let go. “So,” he starts, “what would you think if I quit college?”

  “Quit? What? Why?”

  “Well, the NCAA doesn’t allow you to sign anything with a Major League team and play college ball. Plus, I’d be pretty busy playing for New York to attend class.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “They want to sign me, Rose.”

  “But...even though...your leg...and...the cancer?”

  “If I sign with them, they give me enough money to pay for all my treatments. Rehabilitation too. I’d be ready for next season.”

  “But...they don’t care about your leg?”

  “Yeah...they do. They want to hook me up with some company that makes bionic prostheses.”

  “What? Like the six million dollar man?”

  Ben laughs at me.

  “Stop.”

  “You’re cute. But no, not bionic like that. It’s still a prosthetic that I’d take on and off. He showed me videos. It’s got sensors or something. But it’s a pretty good deal, Rose.”

  “Wow. The major leagues. That’s...wow. Oh my God.”

  “I’d have to quit college.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “I think. I mean...my whole life, this was my goal. The psychologist thing was a back-up.”

  “And you can always go back,” I add, “after...like when you’re forty-six.”

  Ben chuckles. “Yup. If I’d want to play that long.”

  He pauses. Looks at me.

  “Whaddya think, half-pint? Should I do it?”

  “Ben. This is your decision. I can’t...”

  “Rose. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Any decisions I make have to include you, so I’m not gonna make them without your input.”

  Oh my God. Oh my God. “Really?”

  “My goodness, Rose...you come first in my life. Everything else comes second.”

  “Thank you.” Leaning in, I hug him, trying my best not to crush him because I’m so happy. “I love you.”

  “And I you, Rosie. So what do I do? I mean, it’s New York, so I can stay in Jersey. Stay near you, but I will be traveling a lot. So there’d be times...that we wouldn’t see each other.”

  “Ben. Do not worry about spending time apart from me. I’ll be there when you get back.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “So, I should accept the offer?”

  “Would it make you happy to take it, Ben?”

  “It would, Rose. Yeah. It would.”

  “Then do it, Ben. Do it. Accept the offer. And that bionic leg.”

  Both of us are smiling huge gigantic smiles. “Okay. Okay. I will.”

  44

  BEN

  A FIVE-YEAR CONTRACT WORTH NINE POINT NINE MILLION DOLLARS.

  Plus the purchase of my bionic leg.

  That’s the offer I just accepted.

  Now I just have to withdraw from school.

  45

  ROSE

  The fitness room door slams open, and through the reflection in the mirror, I see Lindsay ungracefully running in, holding a piece of paper.

  Spinning around to look at her directly, I stop her by the shoulders before she slips on her high heels. "What the heck, Lindsay?"

  She pauses to take a breath.

  "Holy cow, what's going on?"

  "Sorry. I ran all the way here from class," she says, huffing. "Boy, it's not easy in these stiletto things. I thought dancing with you, I'd be in better shape."

  "Lindsay. What? What's so important you had to run?"

  "I didn't want to miss you. I know on Tuesdays you go right to Orange to see Ben after you're done here."

  "Well, I do go home to shower after dancing for two hours, but what's your point?"

  "Right." Her breathing seems back to normal. "Look," she says, handing me the paper in her hand.

  "I take it from her and skim it. "A grant? A grant for what?" I look at her.

  Her finger waves over the paper. "Keep reading. Come on."

  Instead of skimming, I read the letter more carefully. When I'm finished, I look at her. "A grant for a dance team? What's this mean?"

  "Rose, it means we got a grant to start a dance team at Hunter Hill. I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure. I want you to run it!"

  "Wait." I shake my head. "What?"

  "I'll be the director, you know, oversee things, and I can be the coach," she says with air quotes, "so you can still be part of the team, but with my teaching schedule, and counseling, I don't have time to choreograph and teach new routines. And schedule rehearsals and eventually competitions. I want you to do that."

  "Me? For
Heaven's sake, why?"

  "Because this university needs a dance team. Other colleges have one. Why can't we? And with all your experience, you're the perfect one to run this. Plus, didn't you say your goal was to one day teach dance? Well now...you can. You can be part of the team and teach it. Be the captain of it."

  I can't keep from smiling, because...wow. But I still don't understand. "Lindsay, I got a bum leg, I can't teach or be on a competitive team. That wouldn't be fair to the team."

  "Rose, even with your prosthetic leg, you're better than most. You're a superstar. And my vision for this team—" she pauses briefly "—accept anyone. Even those with bum legs or missing arms or wheelchairs. No discriminating based on physical limitations."

  "Wow. Really?"

  "Really. I've seen what you do out there on the floor. I know you can incorporate physically challenged dancers into your routines. You are amazing, Rose. And look how far you've come in just a few months. If you couldn't see it, no one would even know you were dancing with an artificial limb."

  "Oh my God, Lindsay." I walk over to the bench, because I suddenly feel light-headed.

  Lindsay follows me over and sits down. "So whattya say? Will you do this?"

  "Oh my God. I want to."

  "Then do it."

  "But..."

  "No buts. What else you gonna do? You said you didn't know what you wanted to major in, so do this while you decide. Dance, Rose."

  "Yeah?" I look at her and I know I'm smiling huge, because my cheeks hurt.

  "Yeah."

  "Okay. I'll do it. Yeah." I stand up and scream, "Yeah. I'll do it. I'll do it. I'll do it, I'll do it." I run to the middle of the floor, get in position, and spin and spin and spin and spin. All on my bad leg.

  "Oh my God, Rose. A fouetté turn? And so many! Look at you."

  When I come to a stop, I say, "I've been practicing. A lot."

  "Oh my God, Rose, you’re awesome. See. You’re gonna be the best one out there. Oh, and by the way, I'd like to pull this all together before the fall semester. Could you stay here for most of the summer?"

  "Oh."