by Dale Mayer
“Then you are very lucky,” Denton said. “I think we all go through that stage, thinking we’re done with relationships, especially when we wake up in bed, broken, screaming in the middle the night with flashbacks causing our bodies to swim in sweat and the fear raging up our throats.”
“My nightmares were never as bad as yours. I get a few, but they don’t torment me quite so bad. Make sure you talk to the therapist about that. Post-traumatic stress syndrome is nothing to fool around with.”
“I know. I’ve been keeping it under control, but sometimes …”
“Sometimes life gets to be too much.” He nodded in understanding. “Like I said, make sure you talk to the therapist about it. Everybody here does such a marvelous job in their own field. It’s amazing how much progress we’re all making.”
“What about Cole? Where is he? Is he still playing catch-up?”
“Hell no,” Brock said. “He’s doing much better now too. He had a rough beginning, but he’s come a long way.”
“Lovely. I’m so far behind both of you that there is no point in playing catch-up.”
Brock stepped into the hallway, returning a moment later with a wheelchair. “That’s not important. What matters is understanding your limits and sticking to them. I was always leapfrogging ahead, doing too much, too fast. Cole was always playing catch-up, scared that what he did wasn’t enough. Yet, you need to be content to do what you can do so you can be happy with yourself for the rest of your life.”
He smiled. “While you’re here, follow that same pattern. You will progress at a pace that’s right for you. Don’t worry about anyone else. Progress of any kind might look like a complete impossibility—particularly when you see so many people months ahead of you into their rehab. But when you look back on your own progress, you’ll be amazed.” He patted the wheelchair. “One of the things you don’t want is to overdo it. That lesson I learned from Cole, who ended up back in the hospital only a few days after he got here. Hop on, and let’s go for a ride.”
Slowly, but under his own strength, Denton made his way to sit in the wheelchair, his legs on the footrests, and with a sense of finally coming home that he hadn’t had in so long, he let his best buddy take him from his room for a tour of the place.
As they turned a corner, Hannah came toward them down the hallway. She grinned. “Now that looks like a perfect idea for this morning. Make sure you don’t take him too far or make him do too much,” she cautioned Brock.
He gave her a smile. “I would never do anything to hurt this guy.”
Denton twisted to look behind them as she continued on.
Brock leaned down and whispered in his ear, “See? Like I said … Hannah’s hot. She’s smart, and you’re definitely interested.”
Denton sank back into the wheelchair. “I might be interested, but I don’t plan to do anything about it. I’m here to heal, and that’s where I’ll put my focus.”
Brock whistled a light, happy tune but then paused for a moment. “You can do what you want, but when life smacks you upside the head, you can’t ignore it. All you can do is let fate play a hand and see where you land.”
Chapter 3
At the end of the hallway, Hannah stopped and looked over her shoulder to see the two men chuckling together. She smiled and murmured, “If nothing else, just having friends around would help.”
“Talking to yourself, Hannah?” Shane’s voice came from behind her. “That’s not a good sign at your age.” He shook his head. “Of course, if you’re talking about the two strapping men who went down that hallway, then maybe your comment was about something important.”
She flushed and shook her head. “I was saying how having friends around would help Denton heal faster. To have them as role models and to have their support.”
“We all need friends.”
She nodded. “I can’t say I’ve had a ton in my lifetime. And to see what these men have together is a unique experience for me.”
“I think their circumstances, coupled with what they’ve been through, have helped build a bond most of us can’t access.”
“And yet his buddies, Cole and Brock, found partners here at the center,” she said slowly. “And so, either they opened that existing relationship to let others in or they had the capacity to have more than just one or two friends.”
He stopped and studied her for a long moment. “You’ve made friends since you’ve been here, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, absolutely.” Of course, they weren’t close friends. “I don’t have friends from grade school. I barely remember anybody I went to college with. Some people have friends who span twenty to thirty years. How did they do that? How do you find people you’re willing to stay in contact with all those years? That’s such a gift. I think these three have it. And maybe, I realize I wish I had something like that.”
He seemed to follow her rambling thoughts without any trouble. He smiled and nodded. “I’ve seen that happen myself. My parents have friends spanning fifty years. But I never had any long-term friends either. I made friends in college, and I’ve stayed in contact with a few of those but more for networking, in case I ever need another job. That way, I always know who to contact and can say, ‘Hey, what’s happening in your corner of the world?’” He grinned at her. “My real friends are here. I’ve been here for close to six years straight now, and I’ve certainly made more friends in those years than from before. You’ve only been here a year. I’ve seen you make friends, but they don’t necessarily meet the criteria of long-term friendship.”
“I hear you. It would be nice to see where I am in five or seven years. I’d like to have a friend so I can look back when I’m old and gray and smile because I’ve known somebody else for all that time. And they know me as well as I know them.”
“I think a lot of times those become partners. It’s not that we can’t have male friends or female friends, but often a friend like that is the person who we fall in love with. The person who we plan to stay with, the person who we want to be with for the rest of our lives. To become a best friend. And that’s who you get to spend your time with and smile at and hold hands with when you’re in your rocking chairs, many years down the road.”
She grinned. “That’s a nice picture. I know a lot of people would cringe at the thought, but imagining sitting on a rocking chair fifty years in the future and holding my husband’s hand makes me smile and sigh. To think that somebody could know me and love me and want to be with me for that length of time—well, that’s just special.”
“I think Dani’s found that with Aaron,” Shane said. “I think Brock and Sidney have found that.” He smiled. “I’m not too sure yet, but Sandra may have found the exact same thing in Cole too.” He glanced up and down the hallway. “It’s something I’ve never seen here before, but definitely a love bug is going on. Maybe Cupid moved in.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s been a change. Maybe you need to stay open to the idea, and you’ll find somebody to love yourself.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle hug. And then he walked away, leaving her alone with that thought.
She realized one thing—Shane was one good friend she’d made while here.
It was hard to find anything more perfect than this morning. Finally seeing Brock. Finally being at the center, a place Denton had tried so hard to get into for so long. Denton’s heart was overwhelmed with joy and satisfaction. He’d achieved this. No, not all on his own. But that didn’t matter. He was here now. Brock was here now and hopefully would be for another couple months. But like he had said, he would stay close. And that was like having family all over again.
Denton gave a happy sigh and settled back for the tour. Brock took him through the upstairs, which was the ground-floor level, showing him the nurses’ station and all the physiotherapy rooms. Brock kept up his rambling conversation that was both easy and lighthearted. And it did a lot to help Denton relax. They bypassed Dani’s offi
ce—whether on purpose or not, Denton didn’t know—but Brock did wheel Denton past the front reception where Hannah was. The two men smiled at her.
“What’s this?” She grinned and said teasingly, “Is the reception desk a tourist stop now?”
Brock nodded. “I figured I’d better show him all the places on limits and off-limits,” he joked.
Denton raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t heard about the off-limits places.”
“That’s because there aren’t very many.” Hannah shook her head. “How come you haven’t taken him to pick up a cup of coffee for the tour?”
Denton looked up at his buddy. “What? You’re gypping me out of a cup of coffee?”
With a chuckle, Brock turned the wheelchair in the opposite direction. “I was getting there—honest. I was getting there.”
Denton watched as they came to a massive open dining-area space. A set of large retractable doors were open, creating one giant room with a massive deck outside, merged seamlessly together. Brock stopped right at the dining room entrance, so Denton could get a good look.
“This is the main hub of this place,” Brock said. “Drinks and snacks are always available. If you’re on a special diet, then talk to your team about getting specific snacks available for you. There are three set mealtimes, but if you miss a meal and you’re hungry, you can always talk to Dennis.”
A large male behind the counter lifted his head and waved. He smiled and called out, “Hey, Brock … did we get a new one?”
Brock laughed as he wheeled Denton closer. “Denton, this is Dennis. Anytime you need food, whether it’s mealtime or not, he’ll hook you up.”
Dennis came around and shook Denton’s hand. “Welcome.”
Appreciating the camaraderie and openness of the place, Denton shook Dennis’s hand. “Hannah said something about coffee?”
Dennis chuckled. “Where would we be without that brew?” He pointed to the side wall. “Brock can take you to our snack station. There’s always coffee and tea, black and herbal. Hot chocolate too and juice. If you want something that we don’t have, let me know, and I’ll do my best to get it for you.”
Brock wheeled them slowly through what was mostly an empty room. Some staff appeared to be having a meeting at a table at one end of the room, papers strewn across the tabletop, and a couple of patients sat at a table outside.
“The property looks unbelievable,” Denton commented. “It’s a unique setting.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Once you see the animals, you’ll understand how special this place is.”
They made it to the coffee bar where Brock poured two cups, set them on a tray and handed the tray to Denton to carry. “You hungry? There are cookies, cinnamon buns, or fruit.”
Denton said, “I want a cinnamon bun,” then laughed as Brock had already picked up two and added them to his tray.
“Now the only question you must answer is, sit inside or outside?”
“Is the tour over?”
“Nope. This is a midway stop.”
Laughing and joking, the two moved outside to one of the largest tables on the deck. The sunshine and fresh air were spectacular. As Brock moved a dining chair so the wheelchair could pull right up to the table, Denton carefully lifted the tray to the table without any spills. He glanced up at Brock. “I was sure I would dump it.”
“You wouldn’t be the first to do that. It took me a long time to learn how to carry a tray while on crutches.”
Denton shook his head. “I’m so not ready for that.”
“I wasn’t either,” Brock said cheerfully.
Denton relaxed in his chair, enjoying an atmosphere that felt more like a vacation resort than an actual medical facility. “Staff and patients mingle all the time?”
“They can. They do have offices, and they have some separate meeting rooms, but they might as well come here, have fresh coffee and something to eat while having their meeting.”
“And visitors?”
“They come too. All visitors must pass through the front doors, and they must sign in. You have to arrange for your visitors ahead of time to avoid interrupting your rehab schedule.”
“That makes sense.” Denton asked a few more questions but then fell silent as he took the first bite of his cinnamon bun. He shook his head and moaned. “Oh my God, this is so good.”
Brock nodded. “Wait until you get to the meals. I will miss the food here.”
Denton stared at him in astonishment. “Are you serious? Usually, in any kind of medical facility, the food is crappy.”
“Not here.” Brock ripped off a huge piece of cinnamon bun from the outside of his roll and ate it.
“There you are,” a woman called out.
Brock glanced up, and the look in his eyes—a warm, almost melted look—had Denton studying Brock in surprise. A tall beautiful woman came around the table and reached out a hand. Brock grasped it.
Denton turned to the woman. “I gather you’re Sidney.”
Laughter rolled from her, and she nodded. “Nice to meet you. You must be the Denton I’ve heard so much about.”
Denton winced. “All good things, I hope.”
“Of course,” she said with a smile. “I see Brock’s giving you the tour.”
Denton nodded. “I’m still hoping to meet up with Cole soon.”
“You will,” she said confidently. “He’s doing his sessions right now. Maybe another half hour to forty-five minutes.” She glanced at her watch. “Wow. Okay, it’s almost lunchtime. The morning has disappeared faster than I expected.” She glanced at Brock. “Are you two staying here for lunch, or are you giving him a tour down below after your coffee and then coming back?”
“We’ll have our coffee and cinnamon buns, finish the tour and then we’ll hopefully meet up with Cole for lunch here. I’ll text him and make sure he’ll be here.” Brock looked up at her hopefully. “Can you join us too?”
“I have a meeting with the other therapists. If it runs late, then I won’t make it. But if I finish on time, then I’ll be happy to.” She gave him a warm smile and then switched her gaze to Denton. “I trust you’re here for all the right reasons. Be sure you make the most of your stay,” she said cryptically, and then she pivoted and walked off.
Denton couldn’t help but watch her as she left. She was beautiful and confident. His gaze flew back to Brock, who had a foolish smile on his lips. “You got it bad, don’t you?”
“I got it bad. And for the first time in my life, I’ve found a partner whom I’m quite happy to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Wow.” Denton picked up his coffee mug and took a big drink. So many new and different things going on here. His mind had trouble grasping it all. His impression of Brock was still like the good old times before their trio had been injured. Though Denton had visited Brock when he was broken and then again just out of surgery, now he was a completely new man. “I’m really happy for you.”
Brock grinned. “Hey, you probably haven’t heard Cole’s hooked up too.”
Denton stared at him. “Cole?”
Brock nodded. “But that’s Cole’s tale to tell. So I’ll let him fill you in.” Brock bounced to his feet. “Drink up your coffee. We’ll finish the tour and then come back for lunch.”
Eager and still stunned by everything he’d seen and learned, Denton polished off his bun and washed it down with the last of his coffee. He looked at the tray. “Where do we put the dirty stuff?”
“You grab it, and I’ll take you there.” Once they’d dropped off their dishes, they headed into a wide hallway and stopped outside a large elevator door. Brock pushed the button.
“The animal clinic’s downstairs, along with some other fun things.”
Inside the elevator, Denton’s mind spun. Animals? Other things? When the elevators opened, the hallway teemed with dogs.
Brock chortled. “Well, what’s going on here?”
The receptionist glanced at them. “Hi, Brock. A property s
eizure was completely overrun with dogs in poor condition. We’re waiting on another vet to come in, but the rescue people brought in all the animals at once. We’re still sorting them out.”
Sadness washed over Denton at the sight of the maltreated animals. Each one’s fur was matted and dirty, and he could see scabs and sores. None appeared to have much spirit left within them. He glanced at the receptionist. “Are these all from the seizure?”
“We have twelve from the seizure, but over seventy animals were rescued.”
He shook his head. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
The woman looked at him. “Have I seen you here before?”
“I’m Denton.” He waved. “I just arrived.”
She looked at him. “You probably shouldn’t be doing very much then.” She glanced at Brock for confirmation.
“He might not do very much yet, but he can certainly reach out a hand and help a scared animal,” Brock said. He moved Denton into the center of the room. “Hang on. Let’s see what Stan’s up to and if he needs more volunteers.”
Just then an older man in scrubs stepped from one of the rooms. His gaze landed on Denton and Brock and lit up.
“Hey, guys. Sorry, it’s a bit chaotic right now.” He turned to the receptionist. “Put these two into the cages. They’ve been checked over. Let’s go through the rest of them one by one and get some treatments started.”
Two other women came out of the back rooms. Denton watched as the assistants carefully moved several more dogs into the treatment rooms. He reached for a smaller one—some sort of shaggy-looking crossbreed that could barely see from the mop over its eyes—and smiled sadly when the dog cowered away. Denton immediately pulled back, then let the dog gather its courage just to sniff him on his own. The dog returned again after a few minutes, watched his fingers, and then a tiny tongue came out and licked them. He stroked the animal. “He’s trembling in fear.”
“Yes. It’s been a long day for them already, and they’ve gone through a lot of trauma and shock. But now that they are here, they’ll get fixed up and taken care of, and hopefully they’ll all be fine.”
