by Dale Mayer
“No,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“If you say so,” she said.
He just smiled and said, “It’s all good.”
“Great. So, whereabouts do you want to go?”
“Far enough away that I won’t be upsetting anybody.”
“I think the fact of life is that it’s a little hard to please everybody.”
“I just don’t want to piss off anybody.”
“Got it,” she said. She pointed out where Midnight, Dani’s horse, munched grass at the fence line. “How about down here?” she said.
He looked at the pathway and said, “How about we roll down a little farther away. I don’t want anybody disturbed.”
Surprised, she carried on walking with him, and, when he got to a spot he thought it was good enough, he stopped and said, “Dang, we should have brought coffee.”
“We should have,” she said with a laugh. “Next time we will.” And she sat down on the grass and waited for him to get settled in. As soon as he did, she lost herself to the music. He ran through a full litany of what was probably old favorites, she didn’t know, but she was stretched out in the green grass, her face to the sun, letting the breeze waft over her, as the music surrounded her and filled her heart with joy. When he finally fell silent, she said, “That sounds so lovely.” She looked up at him. “Does it tire you out?”
“No,” he said. “If anything, it’s just the opposite. I feel better than I have all day.” He shot his arms out. “The shoulder won’t take too much more though.”
“Are you still doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m doing fine,” he said, “but working with Shane is exhausting sometimes.”
“It’s all the time, from what I hear,” she said. “You’re not the first to complain.”
“Well, you think that you know your own body, and then he shows you something that makes you wonder if you ever knew it at all,” he said. Then he strummed away again on the guitar.
She followed his lead and just let the music rise up around them. She noticed that all the horses were coming to the corners of their pastures to get closer. And, even as she turned to look, Helga, the big Newfoundlander on three legs, was walking toward them.
“Well, it seems you’ll have an audience, whether you like it or not,” she teased.
He looked startled for a moment, then stopped playing and glanced around and saw the animals. “Well, look at that,” he said with a big smile. “Who’d have thought they’d be so happy to see somebody out here playing music.”
“I’ve heard that about a lot of animals,” she said, “and I don’t think these guys get to hear very much of it.”
“No, there’s a piano in the back of the big rec room,” he said. “I saw it the other day. It’s the first I actually remembered seeing it, but now I’m looking for instruments all over the place.”
“Is there something else you want to get?”
“Well, I have several instruments in storage at my parents’ house,” he said, “if they’ve kept them. I’m not sure how they feel about being a storehouse for me.”
“I would think, if they were your musical instruments, they would probably hang on to everything, wouldn’t they?” She would at least. She couldn’t imagine being a parent and not.
“They had to downsize here not too long ago, so I don’t know,” he said. “The biggest things to start with were drums, and I had several guitars.”
“Well,” she said, “when you finally get through rehab, you can add music to your list of things you want to do.”
“I really would like to,” he said. “How do you feel about seeing a guy on stage in a wheelchair with a guitar?”
She sat up slowly, then looked at him and said, “On stage?”
He nodded and frowned at her. “Would the wheelchair detract from what the guy could do?”
“No,” she said. “I would think it would emphasize what he can do because he’s doing something,” she said slowly. “So you want to do live shows again?”
He gave her a boyish grin. “Yes,” he said, “I think I do. My favorites are the jazz and the blues clubs.”
“And why the wheelchair?”
“Just in case,” he said, then switched topic.
“So are you tired?” she asked. “We can head back if you are.”
“It feels so nice out here,” he said, “with the breeze in the air.” He lifted his hand and brushed the hair off the nape of his neck. “A haircut would be good.”
“We have a hairdresser who comes through once a month,” she said. “If you want to be put on the list, I can add you.”
“It’s probably not a bad idea,” he said. “I’m used to having my hair so short, and, ever since the accident, well—” He shook his head.
“Do you have any scars on your head that stop the hair from regrowing? Do you want to keep it long enough to cover those?”
He looked at her in surprise. “I’ve got a couple,” he said, “but I never really thought about that. I was just accepting that they were scars.”
“With good reason,” she said, laughing. “But a lot of guys are pretty touchy about it.”
“No point in being touchy,” he said. “My body is riddled with scars.”
They slowly headed back, and this time she carried the guitar on her back, realizing it had a shoulder strap for just this purpose. And, rather than offering to help him push, she just walked beside him, keeping an eye out.
“You’re very attentive,” he said humorously.
“Well, I could say it’s my job,” she said, “not to mention the fact that I like to keep an eye on you.”
He looked up at her, startled.
She shrugged. “Is that wrong?”
“No, not at all. I just wondered if you were like this with everybody.”
“No,” she said, “just a special few.”
He laughed at that. “So I have competition here, do I?”
“Nope, not really,” she said, laughing.
“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure how I’d fare in a competition.”
“Not an issue,” she said. And then she hesitated and finally curiosity overtook her. “So, what about you? Are you in a relationship?”
“No,” he said, “not at all. Haven’t had one since before my accident,” he said.
“And the accidents tend to break everything apart,” she said. “We’ve seen marriages dissolve, and new marriages happen over what our patients go through.”
“I can imagine,” he said. “Though I can’t imagine something like this splitting up a good marriage,” he said, “but I think it would finish a rocky one.”
“That’s what we often see,” she said. “A good marriage only gets stronger, as both partners pull together to survive it, and they end up doing very well,” she said. “But, in so many cases, the other partner figures it’s not what they signed up for, and they walk.”
“That’s got to be devastating,” he said. “I’m glad I was single prior to the accident,” he said. “I would feel like I was dead weight for somebody else to pack.”
“Right,” she said, “and I think that’s how a lot of guys feel. Whereas it’s actually the opposite,” she said. “You come from a unique perspective with a strength that most of us have never had to find out if we have. You have found out who you are and are still working toward improving, while the rest of us go through life blithely unaware of how we’d handle such devastating and painful situations,” she said. “Me? I don’t think I could handle this like you have, and I’ve certainly seen a lot of others who can’t. But, when I see the guys and gals here working so hard—and I see how they progress in their recovery and how they walk forward in whatever form they have to walk forward with—it just makes my heart smile. You guys are just so awesome.”
He chuckled. “That’s not exactly how most of us would view ourselves nowadays.”
“That’s sad. It is,” she said. As they approached the center, Stan whistled and
called out, waving her over. She looked over at Lance and said, “Let me go talk to Stan for a few minutes.”
“Just pass me my guitar,” Lance said. “I’ll go up to my room for a little bit,” he said. “I’m a little more tired than I expected.”
She looked at him and frowned.
He waved her off. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Go on,” he said.
Lance watched as Jessica dashed into the vet clinic, then made his way to the elevator. Once he was alone, he got inside and sank into his wheelchair. He’d pushed it too far and was paying for it, but he didn’t want to ask her for help. Pride was a strange thing, but he would survive. Upstairs on his floor, he slowly made his way to his room. He put the guitar down, closed the bedroom door, and slowly made his way onto the bed. As he collapsed onto the bed, he thought he heard somebody at the door. “I’m just lying down for a bit,” he called out.
Shane stuck his head around the door. “I saw you come down the hallway.” He came in, took one look, and said, “How’s the arm, that shoulder?”
He just glared at him. “What about them?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Playing the guitar will tax that shoulder,” he said. “It’s already stripped of some very important muscles.”
Slowly Lance sagged in bed. “I was really hoping it would be fine,” he said. “But every time I play—”
“I know,” Shane said, coming over and taking a look at the shoulder. “Stretch out on your stomach,” he said. “Let me work it over a bit and see if we can loosen up some of the tension there. I hadn’t realized music was a big part of your life.”
“And it could be a big part of my future,” Lance said, “but only if I can play without hurting myself.” They stretched the bed out totally flat, and, with Shane’s help, Lance flipped over onto his belly and tried to relax. He knew this arm was pretty ugly, but it was the one that he used to pick the guitar strings.
“Have you tried any other instrument?”
“Haven’t had access to anything,” he said. He waited while Shane put something on his hands, and then, slowly, working from the center of the scapula over the shoulder bone and down the elbow into the hand, he massaged each and every one of the muscles. “Some of the muscles back here are in rough shape,” Shane said. “It looks like we need to do some extra work on those.”
“Well, I wasn’t really thinking of music when we did our initial assessments,” he said. “At the time, I wasn’t even sure I could still play.”
“Yeah, but now that I know, we’ll put in some extra time and see if we can get this shoulder to work,” Shane said. “It’s just as important that we have our pursuits and the things that matter to us, as well as being fundamentally functional.”
“Well, it worked,” he said, “but it was awkward being in the wheelchair and having to hold everything differently. So I strained the shoulder.”
Shane didn’t say anything, so Lance kept quiet and just let him work. By the time he finished working on the arm, it still ached, but in a good way. It was much better than when he first came back from being outside. “Pushing the wheelchair back to the center wasn’t very helpful either,” he murmured.
“No, I heard the music and saw you out there,” Shane said. “I guess you were trying to get away from bothering others, huh?”
“Dani said there have been a few complaints,” he said.
Shane sighed. “As much as I like people, sometimes I don’t like people. But everybody is different, so not everybody may have appreciated the impromptu concert.”
“Exactly,” he said, “and I don’t have a soundproof room, and that’s way too expensive to do here. So, as long as I can find a place to go and do some playing every once in a while,” he said, “I figure at least I can stay in touch and try and build up the arm.”
“Not playing too much too quickly would also help,” Shane said. “Remember. We’ve got to do things in stages.”
“I guess I’m impatient. I saw the guitar, picked it up, and I played, never thinking it would be stopped the next day.”
“So today is what? Three days since the last time?”
“Yes,” he said. “I thought it would be fine.”
“And you thought that, if you were far enough away, it wouldn’t matter if you made a mistake, since nobody would really be listening, right?”
That prompted a surprised laugh from Lance. “I guess you could say that. I didn’t think Jessica would really mind.”
“She looked totally happy to me,” Shane said.
“Yeah, but sometimes I think she’s there as a nurse, an overcompensating nurse in some ways,” he said. “I can’t really explain it.”
“Listen, Lance. We all have a challenge,” Shane said, “of separating our personal feelings from our professional feelings. What I can tell you is that this is the first time I’ve ever seen her get so involved with a patient.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Shane said. “Now let’s do some work on the other side,” he said. “We can’t have you lopsided.” He quickly worked the other shoulder and scapula, then all the way down to the fingers. When he was done, he tucked that shoulder back under the sheet. “Now, if you can power nap for a few minutes, do so,” he said. “Otherwise, when you get up, have a hot shower to keep those joints rotating,” he said, “and we’ll be adding that to our work list.”
“Sounds good,” he murmured.
And Shane just chuckled. “You’re almost asleep as it is,” he said.
“I am. I didn’t expect it, but I am.”
Chapter 9
Two days later Jessica saw Lance at lunchtime.
He looked up in surprise when she sat down quickly at his table. “You look rushed.”
“It’s been crazy,” she exclaimed, brushing loose tendrils of hair off her face. “We’re short-staffed again, so we’re all doing double duty, trying to keep things afloat.”
“That’s always tough.”
She watched him eat. “You’re favoring your shoulder.” He frowned at her. She nodded. “I can see it.” He just glared. She shrugged and said, “Fine, don’t tell me,” she said. “I’ll just have to guess what happened.”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“If you say so,” she said.
But, as she studied him, he knew it wouldn’t be long before she said something. Finally he caved instead of arguing and said, “The guitar playing put a bit of a strain on my arm.”
Immediately she leaned across the table and whispered, “Seriously?”
He nodded. “I should have expected it,” he said. “Really. I mean, I haven’t played in a long time and was using muscles that I’m not used to using.”
“I never even thought of that,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, laughing. “And, since I know now, I can do what I need to do,” he said.
She nodded. “So, no more impromptu concerts?”
He laughed. “Not for a few days at least.”
“Okay,” she said. “I can live with that. The piano is in the other room.”
“Yeah, I saw it. Looks like it hasn’t been played in a while,” he said.
“Dani told me that it’s been there for a long time and that it needs to be tuned,” she said.
“Well, if I can’t play the guitar,” he said, “chances are I can’t play the piano very much either.”
She looked at him, nodded, and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “With Shane’s help I might actually get there.”
“So, Shane knows?”
He winced. “No way Shane couldn’t know.”
“Oh, my gosh,” she said. “That bad, huh?”
“Or that good,” he said, laughing again.
“As long as you haven’t permanently hurt yourself,” she said, worried and feeling guilty.
“Nope
, even better,” he said. “He’ll add this to my training plan.”
“That’s awesome,” she said. “That’s so great to hear.” She smiled broadly. “That’s huge news actually.”
“Well, it’s one more thing to work on,” he said. “I don’t know what kind of news it is, but it gives me something to work toward that’s very close to my heart.”
“And, if that’s the case,” she said, “you’ll work that much harder in order to get something back that you really want for yourself. That Shane is a pretty wily one.”
Lance laughed, then smiled and said, “And you’re a great cheerleader.”
“I’m not sure about that,” she said, “but everything I do comes from the heart.” She nodded. “All of us want the best for you here.”
“And that,” he said, “is worth everything. So thank you.”
Lance watched as Jessica bounced away, almost as fast as she had come. He’d wondered what was up when he hadn’t seen her as much, but hearing they were short-staffed made a lot of sense. He’d noticed other people were a little frenzied at times too. He finished up his lunch and slowly made his way back to his room. His morning session had been a bit rough, but, then again, it was his fault because of the guitar work.
As he stopped, he checked his tablet to see what was next on his day and then groaned because it was Dr. Monroe for a shrink visit. When it was time, Lance made his way, wheeling himself toward the office with a full cup of coffee. When he got to the outer office, he pushed the button to say he was here, and the door opened almost immediately.
Dr. Monroe looked at him, smiled, and said, “Come on in.” As Lance made it in without spilling the coffee, Dr. Monroe laughed and said, “Well, that’s a new trick.”
“Seems like I needed some,” Lance said with a smile.
“From what I’ve been hearing up and down these hallways, you’ve come up with a few tricks of your own. The guitar playing was a surprise. You’re pretty good.”