The Village of Gerard's Cliff
Page 24
Chapter XXII
"Damn it." Connor fell back heavily on the bed. He exhaled, trying to calm his nerves, as he leaned back on his elbows, and looked up at the ceiling. This was not working. No matter how he tried to maneuver himself, he could not do it. Only a few feet down the hall this time...not as far as he'd made it yesterday.
Allie walked in from the adjoining bathroom, wrapping a white hospital towel around her wet hair. She tilted her head, and put her hands on her hips.
"It's not going well, I take it," she sighed, sympathetically. He could see that she felt his frustration. Three weeks at the hospital and this was all he could show for it. How was he going to manage at home? Allie had given him every ounce of encouragement she could muster, he knew that. She'd been with him the whole time, getting him through the rough first days, watching his physical therapy sessions....all with a positive attitude. She knew he could do it. But the problem was, he couldn't.
"Mark should be here any minute." Allie started drying her hair with a towel. Her flight back to Gerard's Cliff was only two hours away.
"I don't know if I'm ready to go home today." He shifted his weight so that he was sitting up on the bed. He ran his hand through his hair impatiently.
"I don't think you have a choice, do you? Your doctors feel that you're ready to go home." She started rubbing the ends of her hair with the towel. "Physical therapy is all out-patient from this point." She stopped, and looked at him seriously. "You know the doctors told you that it would take months, maybe up to a year, until your leg is a hundred percent healed."
"I'm well aware of that." His tone was sarcastic, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. He noticed that she ignored his remark.
He knew Allie was watching him, concern in her eyes. He knew he was letting her down. On top of this failure, he'd been having nightmares...three times so far...waking up dripping with sweat. He rubbed his forehead. The doctors had told him it was from the trauma and guilt from seeing his partner shot, and killed, standing right next to him, as they went in to arrest two of the last of the counterfeiters. They said it would stop with time, but he was getting damn tired of them. He didn't want Allie to see him like that, but she had. He had a vague recollection of her hand on his brow, talking to him as calmly as she could. He was supposed to be the strong one, the supporter. He should be helping her...not the other way around.
She pulled her hair back into a pony-tail. "I guess I'll start packing up." Connor watched her put his hospital supplies in a plastic container, and her clothes in her bag. A loud knock on the door startled them both.
"Come on in." Connor was not looking forward to this. Mark poked his head around the door.
"You ready to go, brother?'
"Ready as I'll ever be." Connor reached for the walker.
Mark rolled in a wheelchair and pushed it up beside Connor.
"Uh..no. You go home in this. Hospital rules." His brother laughed. Connor groaned, even knowing full well that he could not possibly have walked to the car on his own.
Connor shifted his body on the bed, stood up on his good leg, and swiveled around until he managed to land in the wheelchair. Allie held the door for Mark to push Connor out into the hall. They made sure to stop at the desk and thank the staff for the excellent care he had received, and then they headed for the elevator.