Wesley, page 5
“Yep, that’s why you need to figure out what your body feels like in this whole new environment. We’ll spend a lot of time here, and we have a lot of muscles to work on, and we have a lot of exercises to do,” he shared. “So the best thing you can do right now, and for the next few minutes, is just relax and figure out where your body’s at.”
“Well, my body is screaming out for the other leg,” he stated. Yet, in truth, his body was relaxed. He sank down to the bottom again and realized that the one leg did just fine pushing him back up. The one arm did just fine pulling up too. When he broke through the water’s surface again, he watched as Shane took notes. “It’s really unnerving when you’re writing notes all the time.”
He grinned. “I’ve heard that a time or two.”
“And yet you don’t stop.”
“How else will I get down info on what you can do and what you can’t do?”
“Oh my God,” Wesley muttered. “I’m in the pool for the first time, bouncing. What could you possibly write down that would be important?”
“Here’s one fact,” Shane pointed out, “how you’re in there, willing to see what you can do and what I will tell you to do. And that’s very important.”
“It doesn’t feel very important right now,” Wesley complained, as he shifted to his back, attempting to float, using his good arm to try to hold himself up. He sank on the one side. He bounced back up, frowning.
“Your flipper is not helpless,” Shane reminded him.
Wesley frowned at him, looked down at what he had remaining of his left arm, and started moving it slowly back and forth. And then he tried the same floating motion again, flopping to his back. With his one arm and the flipper both moving, he just barely stayed afloat. But—and this was the thing that was really important—he did stay up. When he got his remaining foot back under him again, Shane was grinning at him, like a fool.
“It shouldn’t be that big a deal,” Wesley grumbled, staring up at him and then back down at his flipper.
“Yet it feels like it, doesn’t it?” Shane asked.
“Yeah, it does,” he conceded. “I still have a long way to go, though.”
“You sure do,” Shane agreed. “Now, just cutting across the shallow end, I want you to do one length with just your legs.”
Wesley frowned at him. “Yeah, you used the term legs. I only got one. I won’t make my way across even the short side of this pool with only one leg.”
Shane shrugged and declared, “A dolphin has one tail. So maybe just back that thinking up and try.”
He glared at him and shook his head. “I’ll just sink again.”
“If you sink, then use your arms to pull yourself back up again.”
At the edge of the pool Wesley braced himself and then pushed off, trying to get as far as he could propel himself, before he had to try and get that one good leg to do something. But the partial leg was already moving too, almost instinctively. Wesley was balanced awkwardly on the surface, leaning to the one side, but the one good leg—rather than kicking—was almost moving as if a dolphin tail itself. When he got to the other side, he hit it harder than he expected to. He put his leg down for balance and turned and stared up at Shane.
And once again Shane was grinning at him.
“Okay,” Wesley conceded grudgingly, “some of this might be doable.”
“A lot of it’s doable,” Shane stated. “We just have to get your mind to go there.”
And that was the part that worried Wesley. He was already tired. He didn’t think he could do much more today.
“Right now,” Shane began, “I just want you to spend some time and float and move and just play in the water. You have no idea what it’s like anymore, and now that we know that we have something there to work with,” he noted, “we won’t do any practical exercises today. You’ve already done a full workout, so just play in the water for a bit.” And, with that, Shane grabbed a deck chair and sat down beside him.
“Do you have to babysit me?” Wesley asked.
“I have to babysit,” he confirmed, with a nod.
“So I’m never allowed out here on my own?”
“Depends. Right now we don’t have anybody out here,” Shane noted, “so one of us has to be here. After we see where you’re at and after you pass a certain level of tests, that’s a different story.” He added, “But right now? Yep, I have to be here.”
It felt as if he were being babysat, an unnerving and oddly disquieting sensation. It’d been a long time since Wesley had been in a position like that. Yet he would not look a gift horse in the mouth, and he just threw himself into the water, turning, twisting, just enjoying being in the pool again. He stuck to the shallow side, so he could always put down his one good leg and touch the bottom of the pool.
And then slowly, over time, he crept down a little bit farther toward the deep end. Shane was right; Wesley needed time to just see how his body handled this. And, whenever he got into a bit of a panic, he grabbed the side of the pool and hung on for dear life. After one particularly embarrassing incident, he looked over, but Shane wasn’t even looking at him. “What’s the point of being on watch,” Wesley asked, “if you don’t watch?”
“Oh, I saw that,” Shane replied. “but you still handled it yourself.”
Wesley frowned at that because, of course, Shane had seen it. Wesley questioned whether he would be okay in here. He didn’t want to drown while he was in the pool, which had been another disconcerting thought. Yet, so far, he’d done just fine, outside of feeling as if he were being tested by Shane. Yet wasn’t that what Shane had done since day one? It was his job here. He tested Wesley to see his current capability, to see his improvements over time. Wesley sighed, remembering Shane’s words about getting his mind to agree to what his body could do. With a nod, he decided to tread water in the deep end and maybe do a lap from there back to the shallow end.
Chapter 4
Alba walked through the dining room, scooped up a very large cookie that was still warm and gooey, laughing as she walked over to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“What’s the laughter for?” Dennis asked, behind her. She twisted to see him cleaning off tables again and refilling condiments.
“Hey, I was laughing because of the cookie.”
“Most people don’t laugh when they see those cookies,” he replied, eyeing the cookie curiously.
“I was just teasing Dani that I would come down and get a huge cookie for myself and would not share it.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“She told me flat-out that there wouldn’t be any big cookies today. And that’s why I was laughing, because of course there are.”
“And yet you still only have one.”
“I am only having one,” she declared.
“Still won’t take her one?” he asked.
“I am,” she admitted, “but I couldn’t resist chomping on mine first, but then I have to get coffee. Now I’ll snag her one and share—don’t worry,” she added. “Otherwise she would send me back down here, as soon as she saw my cookie.”
He grinned at her and nodded. “And so she should. Do you want a plate?”
“Nope, I’m fine.” And, true enough, she grabbed her coffee, picked up another cookie with a napkin, and headed back down to the offices.
She stopped in at Dani’s doorway and announced, “So, since you said there would be no big cookies, on that note, I decided that I wouldn’t share.” And she held up the remainder of her cookie that she was munching on.
Dani’s eyes widened. “Why are there cookies today?” she asked, shifting over and bringing up the menu. “There are no big cookies on the menu,” she cried out. She bolted to her feet, and then Alba chuckled and held out the cookie she had hidden.
With relief, Dani’s face crumpled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get cookies and cinnamon buns around this place?”
“I figured you had a secret stash of them,” she replied, “because you get more than anybody I know.”
“Yeah,” she muttered in an ominous tone. “And I pretty well have to bribe everybody to get them.” She looked at her cookie and sighed happily. “Wow, it’s huge.”
“It is. It always surprises me when they make big ones like this,” Alba noted, “because you would think it would serve the population better to have multiples of smaller ones that would spread around, so everybody could have at least one.”
“They just make multiples of this size,” Dani shared, “and most people then only take one.”
“Oh, good point,” Alba noted, studying the cookie. “I only took one. If they’d been smaller, I would have been tempted to take two.”
“Exactly.” Dani chuckled. “And there’s never any such thing as leftover cookies.”
“No, there isn’t, is there? Especially these.”
“They are some of the best, aren’t they? And, of course, those are another of Ilse’s family recipes.”
“Right? But, hey, as long as we aren’t gaining weight at this place, we should enjoy it. Though that whole weight gain thing is why I’m going out horseback riding this afternoon. What about you?”
“Love to,” she replied. “I need to get Morning Star out some more.”
“That’s the problem with working for a living,” she stated. “It impacts our hobbies.”
“Hey, I’m just delighted I get to have Morning Star here where I work. I get to see her during lunch hours and evenings, afternoons, all over the place. Sometimes I just sit outside and have a cup of coffee with her.”
“And so you should,” Alba agreed. “I don’t get out anywhere near enough with mine.”
“And yet you’re out there all the time too,” she reminded her.
“Well, I try, but it seems, as you just mentioned, that we still don’t get out there enough.”
“True.” Dani nodded. “When’s the next therapy session on horseback?”
“We don’t have any this week,” Alba noted. “I think the next ones are scheduled for Tuesday.” She glanced at her calendar on her e-tablet.
“Good,” Dani replied. “I work a half day on Tuesday.”
“You want to help out?”
“Sure, would love to. What about Wesley? Is he ready?” And then Dani stopped. “No, he isn’t. That’ll be a while yet.”
“I think it will be a while too,” Alba agreed, “but he really wants to get back to horseback riding and swimming and woodworking. Apparently he had a lot of hobbies beforehand.”
“And a lot of hobbies is good because that means he will hopefully apply himself to get back to at least one or two of them. Lots of guys don’t bother returning to some of their hobbies, and a lot of them can’t go back to them—or at least the effort required to get back to them isn’t worth it for them.”
“Wesley seems to love woodworking. Apparently he made a crib for his niece.”
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Dani said, her face softening. “That would be lovely, wouldn’t it, to have an heirloom like that to hand down from family member to family member.”
Dani had a point. It would be lovely to have a few heirloom pieces made by somebody who cared, not just mass-manufactured furniture, purchased because they were pretty or durable.
*
Alba thought about that a lot over the next few days and mentioned it to Wesley a couple times too. She brought it up again in today’s session. “I was thinking about how you mentioned making your niece a crib. Is there another woodworking project that you want to make for her that you could work toward?”
He looked at her and shrugged. “Well, she’s outgrowing the crib,” he replied. “So, in theory, yes.”
“A princess bed,” she stated instantly.
He stared at her. “Are you talking about four posters and a canopy kind of bed?” he asked cautiously.
She laughed out loud. “I always wanted one of those.”
“Wow.” Wesley stared off into space, thinking about it. “It might be doable. I don’t know that that’s what her parents want.”
“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But I bet if she had a choice …”
“That’s almost like graduating to an older bed.”
“Not really. You can make it a little princess bed for a little girl, and then she can choose what she wants when she reaches puberty.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be all that hard,” he muttered. “I would want to turn the newel posts, and, of course, I would carve the headboard,” he muttered out loud.
She studied him with a smile on her face. “You really do like woodworking, don’t you?”
“Especially something like that for my niece,” he said, with an affectionate grin. “She is a sweetheart.”
“Are they planning on number two?”
“I think they are. I know they’re trying.” He shrugged. “Whether it happens or not, now that’s a different story.”
“Life’s like that, isn’t it?” she replied. “You can plan all you want, but life has a way of taking detours and setting you back to the beginning again.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” he muttered, staring down at his flipper.
“And yet, with each of those challenges,” she noted, “comes a chance to triumph.”
He snorted, as he looked over at her. “Do you keep a card file of all these little sayings?”
She shook her head. “They come from my heart,” she murmured. “Our session’s done today, but I really liked the idea of that princess bed.”
“Is that part of our session?” he asked, as he slowly wheeled back to the door.
“Finding a reason to challenge yourself definitely is.” She nodded. “Where are all your tools?”
“They’re stored in California.”
Her heart sank slightly, and then she nodded. “Where’s your brother with your niece live?”
“He’s here,” Wesley shared. “It’s one of the reasons why Hathaway House was one of my choices. I wanted to be close to family.”
“And that makes as much sense as anything.” She nodded. “Have they seen you here yet?”
“No, I’ve told them to wait, until I could get a little bit more adept.”
“You mean, so that you’ve had a chance to adjust a little further.”
He nodded. “My brother’s been really good, but I hate to see pity on people’s faces.”
“And is your sister-in-law like that?”
He frowned, as he stared down at the floor.
“Or have you not given her a chance?”
“I haven’t really given her a chance,” he admitted. “I’ve stuck to just phone calls.”
“And is that fair?” Alba murmured. “For all you know, she’s very sympathetic to your plight and has a lot of experience dealing with people in difficult physical injury situations.”
“Difficult physical injury situations?” he repeated, staring at her. “That’s a mouthful.”
“You don’t like the word handicapped.”
He winced at that. “No, I really don’t. Physically challenged maybe. I don’t know.”
“How about physically capable?” she asked.
He smirked. “Okay, now you’re really pulling on straws.”
“I’ll pull on whatever I have to, to keep that positive mind-set going,” she admitted cheerfully.
He looked at his watch. “Four o’clock,” he muttered.
“What does that mean for you?” she asked, coming out behind him. She locked the door and walked down the hallway with him.
“I’ll try for the pool,” he shared. “Shane told me, after I passed a few tests, that I would be allowed to go alone, but I haven’t had those tests yet.”
“There is usually somebody on duty or at the pool during business hours,” she noted. “So you could always text him and ask him if that’s close enough for his needs.”
He looked at her. “Shane didn’t mention that.”
“He might’ve forgotten, and he might’ve thought that you weren’t even close to being ready for that.”
“And he might’ve thought that I would have gone every day.”
“Have you done any PT work in the pool yet?”
“No, so far I’m getting reunited with my body in the water,” he replied in dry tones.
She stared at him for a moment. “I imagine that would be challenging enough.”
“Do you swim?” he asked.
“Love swimming,” she said. “Haven’t done a whole lot lately though.”
“Come with me. You’re a doctor.”
“I’m not that kind of doctor,” she replied, chuckling. “Nice try.”
“But you would supervise me, wouldn’t you?”
“And I’m not sure that’s a good idea either,” she said, laughing. “I’m not a certified lifeguard. Plus you outweigh me by probably sixty pounds.”
“The water helps equalize the weight differences. … You could try supervising me,” Wesley added in a wheedling tone.
“Wow, there’s an awful lot of a two-year-old in you surfacing right now.”
He nodded. “Yep, and a four-year-old and a six-year-old, depending on what temperament I’m in,” he declared, with that grin. “I’ll text Shane and see if it’s okay to have you supervise me. I don’t want to go to all that effort of getting changed if it’s not allowed. Plus it’s a gorgeous day, and I would really like to decompress.”
“If it’s decompression for you, then absolutely,” she agreed. “I can come and sit on the edge of the pool.”
“Nope, if you’ll come down there,” he declared, “you have to swim.”
“And if I don’t want to?” she asked, looking at him curiously.
“What, is this another test?” he asked.
“No test,” she murmured. “Just a simple question.”
“Sometimes I don’t think there are any simple questions here,” he admitted. “It seems everybody’s always looking for, waiting for, expecting some answer, and I’m always trying to give you the right answer.”
“Interesting,” she murmured. “I don’t think that’s how we feel about it at all.”
“Maybe not,” he muttered, “but it seems that way.” He gave her a quick wave and said, “I’m taking this hallway.” And he turned, twisting to watch, as she walked down the other hallway.
