by Dale Mayer
“We don’t have any treats,” he said.
“No, but we have long grass.” She bent and snapped off several big clumps and handed it to the critters. Both of them immediately accepted their treat with joy. She smiled, her arms crossed on top of the railing and said, “It’s so beautiful to see them here.”
“Having the animal interaction,” he said, “makes this a very special place.”
“Doesn’t it? Now you know why I am so happy to work here.”
“And here I thought it was because of the patients,” he teased.
She laughed. “Most patients, yes. Some patients are special, and some are special in other ways,” she said, her tone turning wry. “But, on the whole, we’ve been very blessed. Dani has had good luck in bringing in people who are at the right stage of life to take advantage of what we have to offer.”
“I guess that’s the trick, isn’t it? If you’re not ready, it doesn’t matter what you are offered here because you don’t accept it.” He was thinking about how long it had taken him to ask Dani for a bed, how it had taken Elliot to come to that path ahead of Finn to show him the way and why that was surprising because he always used to be a bit of a trendsetter. In this case, it seemed like he was behind the curve.
And then he realized it wasn’t that he was behind the curve—he was literally just behind. Insecure, worried about his future, having trouble dealing with progress. He worried about his progress—or lack of it. He couldn’t do a whole lot back then about moving forward faster, but he was grateful that Elliot had convinced him to come because Finn couldn’t imagine being anywhere else now.
“Now that you’ve been here for as long as you have,” she said, “how are you?”
“Much, much better,” he said. “The night cramps have eased, and that’s made it much easier to sleep, which makes the days much nicer too.”
“Of course,” she said, “and physiotherapy will continue to help you to improve.”
“I think the thing about physio here is everything seems so much worse before it ever gets better. So I’m definitely not at the better stage yet,” he admitted. “But I’m in a nice place to be as I no longer feel worse every day.”
On that note, there was an awkward silence as they both stood here, elbow to elbow, but not quite touching as they stared out at the landscape around them.
“Dani’s built something very special,” he said, almost as if filling the gap of silence.
“She has.”
“Do you think you’ll stay here forever?”
“Not forever,” she said with a smile. “I’d like to have a family one day. But I’m certainly here until my life changes.”
“Sometimes you have to move in order to make a change,” he murmured.
“That’s very true,” she said. “And, if that’s the case, I’m in no hurry. There’s lots for me to learn and to do, and to feel rewarded by my work here, and by the people I meet. I don’t have to be always doing something or feeling like I’m appreciated, but it’s lovely to be a part of a big machine like this that can still do so much good for everyone.”
“Very true.”
“What about you?” she asked. “What are your plans?”
“I’m not exactly sure I have any,” he said. “I’m still here for at least another two months—I presume anyway. I haven’t had an update from my medical team, but I don’t really have any plans afterward. I was hoping that maybe, when I came here, I would find enlightenment in some way or form that would lead me down the right path for me now, after the navy,” he said with a mocking tone. “And so far it hasn’t happened.”
“Give it time,” she said with a smile. “You never know what might happen while you’re here.”
“Yeah?” he said, looking at her. “Like what?”
She just gave him a mysterious smile that hit him right in the heart and said, “Maybe wait and see.”
Chapter 10
Fiona had no real reason for leading him on except that she truly believed in the power of healing. When people healed their physical bodies, they also helped to heal their emotional and mental bodies—and vice versa—and that led to making decisions and seeing clarity in their lives. She had no doubt Finn would sort himself out, just like every other person she’d met here. And she’d met hundreds by now. It was amazing as she looked back along the years of all the patients who had come through Hathaway House’s doors and just how well so many had done here.
Days later, when she walked into his room to see him quickly closing his sketchbook and putting it beside him, she realized he truly was back at his artwork. She smiled brightly at him and said, “Do those pencils work well for you?”
“They do,” he said noncommittally.
She had to do a full checkup on him. By the time she had written down her notes, she said, “I didn’t get to see you yesterday,” she murmured.
“No,” he said, “my therapy has switched again, and I have to admit to it being pretty rough.” But there was no strain in his voice, and he was still as friendly as ever.
She motioned at his belly. “Any problems with the colostomy?”
“Only that it exists,” he said, but a new teasing tone was in his voice, as if he might be finally coming to terms with it.
“At least you only have one,” she said. “It could be worse. You could have two.”
“And I’ve only just recently come to understand that,” he said. “Who knew you could have two bags, not just one?”
She chuckled. “I’ll still get you a pink polka-dot one.”
“Yuck.” He shook his head. “Unless there’s something macho male out there that’ll help, don’t bother,” he said with a smile.
“As more and more people end up with this problem,” she said, “someone will get creative and will make all kinds of designs.”
“Right, and I guess I’ll never get rid of this, will I?”
“They do these temporarily for some patients, while other areas of the body heal or have to be reconstructed. I’m not sure what the situation is in your case, but I suspect this is permanent.”
“My surgeon said it was permanent, but I keep hoping …”
“You can hope,” she said, “but stay within the realm of reality.”
“Right,” he said, “and that means this is permanent.”
She studied his face for a long moment, but he didn’t appear to be anywhere near as down and depressed about it. “Sounds like you may be getting used to the fact that it exists.”
“Well, I’m not screaming and depressed and crying about it, if that’s what you mean,” he said briskly. “And, as I improve in other areas, it is easier to look at something like that and realize that I’ve done everything I can and that I can’t improve it anymore, so I’ll have to live with it.”
“Good,” she said. “Speaking of which, I understand the prosthetic fitting is happening in the next week.”
“I hope so,” he said. “I’ll finally see how this latest surgery did.”
“Well, here’s to hoping,” she said. “I know sometimes it takes a couple attempts, but it would make such a huge difference in your mobility.”
“It always did,” he said. “Even though my stump swelled up, I didn’t want to let go of it.”
She motioned to the sketchbook. “How’s the drawing going?” At that, she could feel him withdrawing again.
He shrugged and said, “As ugly as I expected it to be.”
She smiled, picked up her tablet and said, “You’ll just get better,” she said, “like with everything else.”
And she walked out. There was something very secretive about him and his sketchbook, as if he didn’t want her to see it. Having seen the drawing he’d done in Dani’s office, Fiona couldn’t imagine it being very ugly. But, if he was using his drawing as a therapy that could rid him of some of his depression, then maybe he wasn’t drawing pretty pictures either. He needed time alone to do his thing.
As she walked down the hal
lway, Dani walked toward her. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she said, “but you look serious.”
“The one patient we had who gave you some issues,” she said, “do you remember him—Ziegler? He sent a letter and a lawyer’s note.”
Fiona froze. “A lawyer’s note?”
“He’s attempting to sue us for our handling of the situation.”
Her stomach sank. “He’s the one who got a little too infatuated with me. I didn’t know how to get out of it,” she said. She reached up a hand, rubbed her forehead and said, “What was I supposed to do?”
“Our lawyers will handle it,” Dani said gently. “I just wanted to let you know that this was in progress.”
“And that’s likely to stop me from ever being friendly with anyone again,” she cried out. “What a horrible turn of events.”
“No,” Dani said firmly. “Some people—like Finn—need it.”
“The trouble with Finn,” she said, her voice harsher than she wanted it to be, “is I don’t want him to see me in that light. I really care about him.” Lowering her voice, she said, “Finn is not like Ziegler at all. I didn’t see him as anything other than a patient. But Finn’s different.”
“And Finn would handle the situation differently. Ziegler was dealing with more than rejection, and my lawyers will make that very clear. He received the best treatment he could possibly get here, and he wanted a whole lot more than he got. That’s the end of it.”
She said it so firmly that Fiona wanted to believe her. To a certain extent she did, but it was depressing, nonetheless. “Well, I hope he doesn’t cause any more trouble, and that can be the end of it,” she said slowly. “Has it ever happened before?”
Dani shook her head. “No, it’s the first case.”
“But it does set a precedent for all of us now to look at our relationships with the patients and worry that we’ll be taken in the wrong way.”
“One in hundreds,” Dani said. “Really, that’s about to be expected. We can’t expect to walk away from something like that scot-free. We would love it if it would never happen, but you know what the world’s like.”
“I know,” Fiona said, “but I can’t tell you how much I regret that happening in the first place.”
“And we all know that,” Dani said. “Anyway, carry on with your rounds. I’ve got to go back to the office.”
Fiona stood in the hallway and watched as Dani headed to the reception area. Suddenly feeling more depressed and bereft, she walked to the front to see if Racer was there. Surprise, surprise, he was. His little tail wagged like crazy when he saw her.
She picked up his basket, petting him with her free hand, and asked, “How do you feel about coming to visit with me?” She had a lot of notes to enter, and having him around would be a help. She carried him back and placed him on the desk beside her. He just lay here, his huge eyes blinking at her as she gently stroked his ears. She spent a few minutes cuddling him before working on her notes.
When she looked up, Dani sneaked in, taking one look at Racer and snagging him for herself. “Another patient needs him.” And she disappeared.
Fiona chuckled. “It was definitely a huge plus with him being here.”
On that note, a grumbling meow came from the doorway, and she looked around to see the latest addition to the therapy animals—the three-legged cat, a big Maine coon that had his ways fixed, sat and stared at her. It reminded her of the puppies. Fiona had been at the clinic several days in a row, helping out, but hadn’t been needed thereafter. She’d sent a message to Stan asking for an update. She didn’t expect to hear anytime soon, but she should probably make it there on her lunch hour and see if she could visit with them.
Finally, she was done with the paperwork, and it was time to do another round again. She started at the other end so she would end up at Finn’s. By the time she was done, a couple patients taking longer than normal, she was tired and ready to be done with her day. When she finally entered Finn’s room, he had his sketchbook open across his lap, and he’d nodded off. She hesitated at the doorway. If he didn’t want her to see his sketchbooks, then she didn’t want to look, but she needed to wake him up.
Keeping her eyes averted, she walked up to him, gently picked up his arm and took his blood pressure. He woke up with a jerk and stared at her, blinking owlishly. She smiled at him. “Just rounds.”
He nodded, closed the sketchbook and shifted. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.”
“Apparently,” she said. “Are you sure you’re not doing too much?”
“I probably am,” he admitted. “But, once you start seeing those first signs of progress, you just want to get to the end as fast as you can.”
“This is definitely a case where the turtle wins the race,” she warned.
“And you know you can tell me that until you’re blue in the face, and it still won’t make a difference as to how I feel.”
She smiled gently at him. “You and everybody else in this place.”
He chuckled and said, “I’m also very hungry. Is it almost dinnertime?”
“Almost,” she said. “I’m off now.”
“Will you have dinner with me?” he asked in a rush.
She looked at him, smiled and said, “Sure. I’ll go home, get changed and what? Meet you in the dining room?”
He nodded. “If we’re early, we can always have coffee first.”
She checked her watch and said, “How about we meet in forty-five minutes?”
“Good, and, if I start now, I might make it on time,” he joked.
She grinned and turned and walked away, but her footsteps were lighter. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d caught sight of in his sketch, and she didn’t really want to analyze it because he’d closed it as soon as he’d been aware of it, but it had been the start of a woman’s face. She just didn’t know what woman. Fiona suspected Dani, but who knew? Fiona hoped he didn’t have any intentions for Dani because Dani’s heart was definitely locked with Aaron’s. Those two were a perfect match.
But Finn and Dani went way back, so who knew just how deep the heart went? And maybe they were just good friends. Still, it bothered Fiona. It bothered her a lot. She couldn’t stop thinking of anything else when she showered and got dressed in another summer dress. As she headed out from her place to meet him in the dining room, she tried to let it go, but, as she walked up, Finn already was seated with Dani at his side. Dani looked at Fiona, smiled, then leaned over, kissed Finn on the cheek, and got up and left. At that way-too-friendly gesture, Fiona’s heart sank.
“You look absolutely stunning,” Finn said in admiration. “That dress with the blues and greens flowing around you is gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t realize you and Dani were that close.”
“Not that close,” he said. “But we’ve been friends for decades. Or at least it seems like that. I don’t want to count too close to see if it really is that long or not.”
“Maybe two decades,” she said.
“Okay, but it feels longer,” he said with a smile. “And I know how happy she is with Aaron.”
“She is, indeed,” Fiona said, taking a seat beside him. “Have you checked out what’s on the menu tonight?”
“Greek,” he said. “These theme nights are absolutely to die for.”
“Dani has always done a great job with the food budget here,” she said. “And Dennis keeps us all coming back for more.”
“A happy tummy is a happy system,” he said. “Do you want to sit for a bit, or do you want to eat first?”
“You were the one who was starving earlier.”
“I am, that’s why I’m having the coffee, to try and take that sting back a bit.”
“Then we’ll sit and wait until you finish your coffee,” she said. “I’m in no rush.” She looked over at the sideboard and said, “Actually, there’s fresh juice. Do you want one?”
“Sure,” he said. He w
atched as she walked over to get water first. The dress flowed freely around her, wrapping her curves and showing off her long legs. He wondered at her questions about his relationship with Dani and realized Fiona had probably seen the kiss Dani had given him. But there’d been a reason for that. Dani was cheering him on in every aspect of his life. She always had. Matter of fact, she was one of the best cheerleaders he’d ever met. But he didn’t want Fiona to get the wrong idea.
At the same time, Dani had also explained about the problem with the one patient, and he realized just how much of an issue him liking Fiona might be for her. To think that a pending lawsuit would add to her sense of guilt, that bothered him. It was just more crap for her and Dani to deal with that wasn’t necessary. When she returned with two glasses of water and then disappeared again, he watched, loving every step she took and the way the dress molded to her body.
“Dresses like that should be banned,” he decided. “But I’m glad they haven’t been.” They were way too sultry, and she had the body for it. And with her hair braided down the center of her back like that, she was very beautiful.
When she returned with two large glasses of juice and sat down again, she looked at him, a puzzled look on her face, and asked, “What’s the matter?”
He lifted both eyebrows. “The only thing that matters,” he said, “is you’re too beautiful to believe.”
She stared at him, pleased. “Thank you, I think,” she said. “But what you see is what you get.”
“I wish,” he muttered. He caught her sudden surprised look. He shrugged and said, “You know I care for you.”
“Well, I know something is there between us,” she said lightly. “It’s just a matter of what that is.”
“Dani told me about that lawsuit.” He could see her expression dim.
“It’s one of the low points in my life,” she said quietly. “I would never deliberately lead anybody on, and I would never wish such emotional pain on anyone.”