“I agree,” said Mick. “Let’s hope he keeps it up.”
“Excuse me, sir.”
Mick opened his eyes and lifted his sunglasses. It was their butler, Jackson. “Yes?” Mick asked him.
“Joey’s physical therapist has arrived, sir.”
“Joey!” Mick yelled.
Joey and the twins looked his way.
“Your PT’s here,” Mick said.
It had been nearly four months since Joey’s injuries, and Mick had moved him into their home to recover. The physical therapist came four times per week.
“Gotta go,” Joey said to his young siblings as he whirled his wheelchair around.
“Tell them to come back tomorrow,” said Jackie. She was having too much fun.
Joey laughed. “That wouldn’t be fair to her, though. She came all this way. I’ll be back.”
“Hurry back,” said Duke, and Joey said that he would. Then Joey rolled his wheelchair off of the patio and into the house, with Jackson following behind him.
But outside, Jackie wasn’t ready to give in. “Will you throw the ball to us, Daddy?” she asked Mick.
Roz looked at Mick. She knew he was tired. It was a rare Saturday off for them and she was tired too. But the kids came first.
But Roz was not Mick. “Maybe later,” he said, put back on his sunglasses, and closed his eyes again.
Jackie was disappointed. “Yes, sir,” she said, and continued to swim with her brother.
Roz, disappointed too, kept staring at Mick with anger in her eyes. When Mick finally looked her way, feeling her stare, she let him have it. “Get your ass up and play with your children,” she said between clenched teeth. “They ask so little of you!”
Mick was about to lash back at her, but then he thought about what she had said. They ask so little of you, she’d said. He stared at Roz, and then he removed his sunglasses and stood up.
When he went to the pool to throw the ball, Jackie and Duke began clapping. Mick, feeling awkward as hell, didn’t know what else to do. He bowed. Roz laughed.
But then Jackson ran back out onto the patio in a frantic state. “You’ve got to come and come now!” he yelled. “It’s Joey. I don’t know what to do!”
Mick immediately dropped the ball and ran into the house. Roz ran behind him. The twins even hurried out of the pool and ran behind them. They were all terrified. They were all frantic.
Until they arrived in the living room where Joey and his physical therapist were located. “Wait there,” Joey said urgently when his parents arrived in the house.
“What is this?” Mick asked, a frown on his face.
The twins stood beside their parents. “What’s wrong?” Duke asked.
But Joey looked at his therapist. “You can do it,” she said encouragingly. Then the therapist looked at his parents. “He’d been practicing all month, as more and more strength began to return to his legs,” she said.
And Joey did it. He took three breaths and then lifted himself from his wheelchair. And, to the shock of his family, Joey, with the therapist pushing his wheelchair behind him, took one step, causing Roz to gasp. And then two steps. And then three steps. And then four steps. But then he was about to collapse. The therapist hurried to push the chair closer to him so that he could sit down.
But Mick got there first, and Joey collapsed into his father’s arms.
Roz and the twins were crying and clapping. And Mick, with a tear in his eye, too, held his boy up. “You’re a good son, Joey,” he said. “I’m proud to call you my kid.”
Joey smiled so brilliantly and pumped his fist in the air so arrogantly that he almost fell out of his father’s arms.
They all laughed, including Jackson, who was in on the surprise, as Mick helped Joey back into his chair.
He knew there was no guarantee that Joey would ever walk beyond those few steps. But Mick didn’t need guarantees anymore. He just needed his family.
“Good job,” Mick said to Joey again, and squeezed his shoulder.
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Mick Sinatra: Ice Cold Love Page 16