by T. D. Jakes
The front door slid open as they approached and they came into a lobby painted in relaxing cool pastel tones. A skylight provided natural illumination and the variety of potted plants, large and small, provided a garden feel. So far, so good, he thought.
They went to the front desk where an attendant waited. “We’re here to see Julie Sawyer,” Dave said. “We’ve got an appointment.”
The young man flipped some pages on a clipboard. “Dave and Clarice Johnson?”
“Yeah, that’s us.”
“Through these doors on the right, third door on your right.”
“Thanks.”
The third door on their right, however, opened to a large room that appeared to be separated into about ten or fifteen cubicles by six-feet-tall cloth-paneled partitions.
“How we supposed to find her in this?” Dave wondered aloud. There were no information desks and no signs, nothing to give any sort of visual cue about how Julie Sawyer—or anyone else, for that matter—was to be located.
“I guess we’ll have to ask somebody,” Clarice said. She moved toward the nearest partition and stuck her head in the opening. “Excuse me, we’re trying to find Julie Sawyer.”
Dave heard the click of a phone handset and the sound of a button being pushed. “Julie?” a man’s voice said. “Folks up front for you.” The handset clattered back into its nest.
“Sorry to bother you,” Clarice said in a low voice when she rejoined Dave, rolling her eyes toward the cubicle she’d just left. Dave shrugged.
In a few seconds Julie came around the corner, holding out her hand. “Hello, guys,” she said. “Sorry, things are a little disorganized right now.” She shook Dave’s hand, then Clarice’s. “I meant to be waiting for you up front, but I got caught on a call with a patient. Come on back, okay?”
They followed her past several of the tiny office spaces until she turned and gestured them through the doorway of one. The space was about eight feet by eight feet, barely big enough to hold the workstation and two chairs that were its only furnishings.
“Welcome to my spacious office,” Julie said with an apologetic grin. “As you can see, we don’t like our therapists feeling too comfortable at their desks. I guess it’s a passive-aggressive management strategy to keep us out in the working area.”
“It’d be effective if I worked here,” Dave said.
As Clarice settled herself into a chair, Julie went to her desk and took out a file folder and pen.
“Okay, let’s get some preliminaries out of the way.” She took their names, addresses, and phone numbers at home, work, and for their mobile phones. She asked for the name of their family physician and also the orthopedist who treated Clarice in the hospital. She noted both Dave’s and Clarice’s insurance carriers and also the date, time, and place of the accident.
“I can probably get a lot of the clinical stuff from the orthopedist,” she said then, “but I’d like for you guys to tell me whatever you can about the accident. It helps me understand a little more about how I can be helpful in your recovery process.”
Dave told her everything he could remember.
“I was out when the collision happened,” Clarice said, “but the first thing I remember was my leg hurting.”
Julie nodded and took notes as Clarice related her experiences immediately following the collision. “Well, it’s great the orthopedist on call that night got to you so quickly. Just gives you a little bit more of a jump on healing, you know? Okay, Clarice, how about talking to me about what it’s been like for you these last few days, hauling that cast around and all.”
Clarice gave her a strange look. “I thought you were a physical therapist, not a counselor.”
Julie gave a little chuckle. “You’d be surprised how much cross-over there is. I guess I don’t think of myself as just working with arms and legs; I work with people. To me, your mental and emotional attitude is as important as your physical performance. Not only that, but your state of mind has a tremendous impact on the way you approach your therapy and the way I approach helping you with it. Make sense?”
Dave realized he was nodding. This lady was impressive; she sounded almost like he did when he was working with his baseball team. Attitude and performance: you couldn’t separate them.
He looked at Clarice. She’d pulled inside. He wondered why. What was so hard about answering Julie’s question? Now she was looking at him like someone trying to do long division in her head.
“Hey, ya’ll want me to step outside for a minute?” he said.
Clarice gave him a look that he could have sworn was gratitude. He realized Julie had caught it too: She was peering back and forth between him and Clarice. Her face carried an expression like someone who’d just found a pair of socks in the china cabinet.
“I’ll take a walk,” he said. He stood up and went out feeling a little bit like he’d just been kicked out of his own birthday party. What was Clarice’s problem? Why was it so hard for her to just say what was inside?
He went back to the hallway and walked to the nearest drinking fountain. Then he went back out to the main lobby and sat on one of the couches for a few minutes. When he judged the time had been long enough, he headed back to Julie’s cubicle.
The two women were both looking at the floor when he came in.
“Ya’ll get it all figured out?” he said, trying for a lighthearted tone.
Clarice gave a tight little nod.
“Yes, I think we’ve got plenty to work with,” Julie said, looking at Clarice like she was afraid she might get contradicted. “Now, Mrs. Johnson—”
“Call me Clarice, please.”
“Okay. Clarice, even if you’re just sitting around at home, there are some things you can be doing that will get you ready for what we’re going to be working on and even help you further down the road. First, I want you to work on wiggling your toes.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“No, I mean really working them. Try to expand the range you can move each toe on your right foot. That’ll keep the muscles and ligaments working and make it easier when we’ve got you ready to start walking. You’d be surprised how much muscles will atrophy when they’re isolated and inactive like your calf muscles are right now. So I want you doing lots of work with those toes, all right?”
Clarice nodded.
“The next thing I want you to do is some leg lifts, both sideways and frontwards. We don’t want your thigh muscles to get lazy just because you can’t put weight on that leg yet, okay?”
“Sounds like PE class all over again,” Dave said.
Julie grinned at him. “Not far off, actually. But we’ve got to make sure we do all we can to have Clarice’s right leg ready for weight as soon as the doctor says the bone’s ready. By the way, when’s your next follow-up with him?”
“Later this week sometime,” Clarice said, looking at Dave. “Thursday, maybe?” Dave nodded.
“Okay, great. Be sure and let me know what he says about weight-bearing for this leg.”
“Okay.”
“One other thing. Your left leg and hip are having to pretty much work double-duty right now. The last thing we want is to mess up the left side while the right side’s healing.Take it easy as much as you can. Rest. Relax. It’ll help you in the long run.”
Dave saw from the way Clarice was sitting and the way she wouldn’t look at anyone that this wasn’t advice she was crazy about.
“Listen to her, Reesie,” he said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
Clarice nodded, but she still wouldn’t look up.
Julie leaned forward and laid a hand on Clarice’s arm. “I know it’s hard for you right now, Clarice. You’re used to doing what you want, when you want to do it. You probably feel at least a little helpless and isolated, don’t you?”
Clarice gave Dave a guilty glance and nodded.
“That’s totally normal,” Julie said. “But remember what we talked about: you still get to
choose how to react.”
Dave was becoming more impressed with Julie by the moment. She was saying exactly what his wife needed to hear, whether Clarice realized it or not. Clarice’s back was stiff and her face looked like she would’ve gotten up and walked out had she been able to do it without having to climb onto her crutches.
Doesn’t she realize Julie is trying to help her?
“Well, that’s about all we need to do for today,” Julie said, standing. “Be sure and let me know what the doctor says at this next appointment, and we’ll take it from there.” She turned to Dave and held out a hand. “Dave, it’s good to see you again. I’m glad you got in touch the other day.”
“Me too, Julie, me too. I think you’re just what the doctor ordered.”
“Well, thanks. I’ll do my best.” He thought there was a little rose-shaded color rising in her cheeks.
She turned to Clarice, who was on her crutches now. “Clarice, I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Yes, Julie, it’ll be great,” Clarice said. Her voice was brittle with politeness and the smile she had on didn’t reach past her lips. “Thanks for meeting with us.” She swung past Dave and waited in the doorway, her back to Dave and Julie.
Dave looked at the therapist, and an expression of silent understanding passed between them. She shrugged and he gave her a sad little smile, and that was all they needed.
“Now, Dave, I’m counting on you to keep Clarice honest on her exercises,” Julie said. Dave had a feeling it was more for Clarice’s benefit than his, though.
“Oh, you can count on it. I used to be a high school coach, you know.”
“Cool! You ever think of going into physical therapy?” They both laughed, but Clarice didn’t.
When they got back to the car, Dave said, “Well? What did you think?”
“She’ll be fine,” Clarice said, looking away. “She seems nice, and she sounds knowledgeable.”
I’ll take that for now, Dave thought.
They drove home with neither one saying much. Dave helped Clarice into the house.
“I need to head on back to the office,” he said.
“All right. See you later, I guess.”
She offered him her cheek. He gave her a chaste peck.
He was about a block away from the house when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Dave? This is Julie Sawyer.”
“Oh! Hi, Julie.”
“Excuse me for calling, but I just wanted to talk with you a little bit about Clarice’s therapy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. It’s going to be really important for you to support her, you know.”
“Well, sure. I’ve always tried to—”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t phrase that very well. I could tell in a second that you’re very devoted to her.”
“You could?”
“Oh sure. A woman knows.”
There was something in her words that pleased him.
“Anyway, Dave, without saying anything specific about the conversation I had with Clarice, I just need to let you know that for folks like her, these early stages can be really tough. I’d guess Clarice is a pretty independent woman, right?”
“Oh yeah.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I thought so. Just try not to take it too personally if she’s kind of withdrawn. I’d imagine she’s a little depressed.”
Clarice? Depressed? “You think so?”
“Sure. For active people, an injury like this can be a real shocker. But the good news is that my job is to help her get back to her normal routine as quickly and safely as possible. And I want you to be as comfortable as possible with the process, because I can tell how much she means to you.”
“Thanks. And I want to tell you how impressed I was with everything you said while we were in your office. I can tell you really care about the people you work with.”
“I appreciate that. And yes, I do. So if there’s anything I can do to make this experience better for you and Clarice, just give me a call, okay?”
“You got it, Julie.”
“Great. Okay, I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
He punched the end button and wondered why he’d said that last thing he did, and if he meant anything by it he shouldn’t have.
When he got to the office, he started to put his cell phone in his pocket. He looked at the screen and realized Julie’s work number was still showing. Hers was the last call he’d received. He looked at the screen for a few seconds. Figuring he’d probably need the number again sometime during the course of Clarice’s treatment, he thumbed the sequence that saved the number in his phone’s memory.
Clarice heard David close the front door and then start the engine of her Accord. He’d be back at the office in about ten minutes or so, back into the details of his day and his staff and his customers and his business.
And she’d be here, watching the hours pass and wondering if she was ever going to feel normal again.
She decided to call in to her office. Surely that would be better than just moping around, waiting for time to pass. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.
“Hastings Properties and Real Estate; Clarice Johnson’s office. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Michelle, it’s Clarice.”
“Well, hello there, girlfriend! You back on your feet? Or should I say ‘foot’?”
“I’m trying, Michelle. How are you doing?”
“’Bout it, ’bout it. It’s been kind of a madhouse around here today, but we hangin’. Girl, when you gonna get yourself back up to work? I’m missing my sister time. I’m liable to start losing it up in here, if I don’t see your beautiful black face pretty soon.”
“I know, Michelle, it’s been hard. Hopefully David’ll hear something from the insurance company pretty soon on his pickup and we won’t be a one-car house anymore.”
“Yes, and how is that fine man of yours? You making him bring you breakfast in bed? Or anything else?”
Clarice winced as Michelle’s suggestive giggle came over the line. Michelle was a street-tough girl who’d pulled herself up by her own bootstraps. She’d come to the office a year or so ago from a job at Judson Enterprises with glowing recommendations from both her supervisor and Mrs. Judson herself, who was not exactly known for handing out accolades. Michelle was smart and a quick study; she was soon promoted from receptionist to the sales assistant pool. When Clarice started establishing herself as a top producer for the office, she’d requested Michelle as her personal sales assistant. She thought they made a superb team. Michelle had recently reconciled with her estranged husband, and sometimes she still carried on like a newlywed. Clarice hadn’t minded it so much before, but at this moment Michelle’s enthusiasm for the conjugal bed grated on her like fingernails on a chalkboard. She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice.
“Michelle, now girl, you know we’ve been married too long for all that.”
“Well, maybe so, but you never know, girl; a little of the right kind of exercise might help you get well that much quicker. It sho’ helps my attitude, I know that.”
Got to change the subject! “Michelle, have we heard anything from the Townsends yet?”
Michelle turned on a dime; now she was all business. “I followed up with them yesterday, per your request. They’re considering a counteroffer. I told them the buyers had contingencies, but they seemed okay with that. They’re still interested, but they would entertain other offers at this point.”
“Good. Well, we don’t have anybody else to bring to the table right now, so let’s just make sure we keep in touch with them and see if the buyers are serious. Their agent seemed to think they were. What about Reid?”
“Mrs. Reid’s trying to bring her husband around. He still thinks they can sell the property themselves and save the commission, but she’s ready to move to the same town as her grandbabies and is tryi
ng to make him see the light. I sent her a note yesterday. She asked about you, by the way—wanted to know if you were doing okay.”
“How sweet. Tell her I’m fine and see if there’s anything we can do to help Mr. Reid get off the dime.”
“Got it.”
“Did the Farber lady ever show up?”
“She was in this morning, as a matter of fact, asking for you. They just got to town last week and are still settling in. I told her about the accident and she said that was fine, they’d just set up an appointment sometime in the next week or so. I tried to nail her down, but she seemed like she was in a hurry. I think they’re still interested, though.”
“I hope so. I’m planning to come in for a while, maybe toward the end of this week. I’ll let you know so maybe you can set it up for me to show her some houses. I don’t know for sure how I’m going to be able to navigate, though, with these stupid crutches.”
“From what I heard, your leg was busted up pretty good.”
“Yeah, afraid so. But I saw a physical therapist today, so I’m hoping I can start getting back to normal soon.”
“Well, sister girl, you don’t worry about a thing on this end. I’ve got your back.”
“I know you do, Michelle, and you don’t know how much I appreciate that.”
To her horror, Clarice felt her throat closing with a sudden onrush of emotion. She clamped her jaws together and prayed Michelle hadn’t noticed, but no such luck.
“Clarice? Honey, you all right?”
“I’m fine, Michelle, I’m just . . . a little stressed, I guess, with everything that’s happened.”
“Well, sure you are, sure you are. But don’t you worry, my sister. I’ve been praying over you every day, ever since I heard about the wreck, and the Lord’s going to take care of you, don’t you worry. Not only that, I’ve got Miz Ida praying for you, too.”
