by Dale Mayer
Dani took a few moments to peruse it. “These people are all good candidates for this field trip. Every one of them can handle their own wheelchair or crutches. They are all ambulatory. We will go to a park if that’s what they want. We can even arrange to have either a picnic with food from the kitchen or we can pick up food in town and take it to the park.”
“What about the movie?”
Dani shrugged. “We can certainly drop off some people at the movie theater, but it would have to be a matinee, and while they are at the movie, the others could be shopping.” She glanced up at Hannah. “See if you can get the moviegoers to agree on a movie at the Theodore.”
“Also several of the patients asked who was paying for this.”
Dani glanced up and frowned. “The center will absorb the cost of the gas, the driver, lunch if it’s a picnic basket from here and providing the staff. But the individual patients will be required to look after things like their own movie theater tickets and their shopping purchases and if we choose lunch out.”
“Okay, that’s more than fair. That’ll make several of them quite happy.”
Dani gave her a sharp look. “Are you hearing any concerns about money from anybody?”
Hannah sat back and thought for a moment. “I think a couple people were grumbling a bit about not having enough. But in this case, I would be a little more concerned if people didn’t have the money to get things like socks and underwear,” she confessed.
After talking with Dani, Hannah took her notes back to her desk. One of the best things about this job was the variety of the tasks she got to do. And the people she had a chance to work with. The atmosphere here was different. Sometimes it was sober, sometimes it was a delight. Everybody cheered and joined in each other’s personal successes. But it was equally hard when there were difficulties. There had been quite a kerfuffle when Cole had had to go back to the hospital. There was a lot of soul-searching going on in the staff meetings, to see if they could’ve done something better.
So far, she’d been blessed to see so many people improve to the point of leaving and to watch new people arrive. There was nothing quite like watching the progress of someone doing something as simple as getting a cup of coffee. They struggled in the beginning and within a few months had no problems whatsoever. Attitude, physical ability and perception of their life completely changed in a short period of time.
Of course that brought her mind right around to Denton again. She decided to sweep through the dining hall and get a coffee rather than any of the other spots in the building that housed coffeemakers. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself.
If he just so happened to be there, she could walk over to say hi. And it would give her a chance to talk to him about the outing as planned. She thought he would like to go no matter what the trip entailed. She well understood the need to get out once in a while—to see something different, do something out of the routine. She just had to see if his medical team approved this day trip.
She entered the dining hall, her notepad tucked under her arm, and headed toward the coffee bar. Her cup poured, she stood there for a long moment, and then surveyed the space.
Dennis was there, cleaning tables. She smiled at him. “How’s your day going, Dennis?”
He looked up and beamed a smile at her. “It’s going great. How about you?”
She nodded. “It’s good. It’s one thing about being here—most of the days are good.”
He nodded and laughed. “There are a lot of good things about this place. But that sense of hope and achievement, those are hard to beat. We are lucky enough to get the benefit of everybody else’s hard work.” He shook his head as he walked past. “It’s hard to not feel proud when seeing so many other people achieve things in their lives.”
Hannah carried her coffee out to the deck and stood for a moment, letting the sun bathe her face. Dennis was right. Being here was a hell of an achievement, and she was lucky to witness all of the patients’ successes. As she turned to head back to her office, she saw Denton making his way on his crutches toward Dennis. There was a short conversation, and then Dennis quickly disappeared into the back. She wondered what was up.
Denton made his way to the closest table and sat down heavy and hard. He looked completely wiped out. Immediately she headed for him. “Denton, are you okay?” She didn’t mean to sound so worried, but she was.
The look on his face was just awful.
Denton gave her a brief smile. “I’m fine, but my blood sugar’s completely wiped out. I tell you, there are days when I have to wonder if I am diabetic.”
“Have you been tested?”
He nodded. “I have a super high metabolism and have to watch the balance of sugars versus proteins. Dennis is getting me some food.” He gave her a boyish smile that was more cheerful than the first one he’d attempted. “The good news is, I get to eat a lot.”
That moment Dennis came back with a tray he placed in front of Denton. The plate was filled with an assortment of fresh fruit and nuts.
“Not bad … protein, fats, carbs and fruit for easy sugar,” she said, studying his snack.
“Exactly.” He lifted the fork, and she was amazed to see how much of an effort it appeared to be for him. A tremor ran through his hand as he took several bites.
She figured it would probably take ten to fifteen minutes before his system realized food was coming. She pulled out a chair. “Would you mind company?”
He waved at her. “Please, sit. I’m so sorry. I should’ve invited you to join me. My manners now are nonexistent.”
She chuckled softly. “You have a lot more things to worry about than your manners.” She watched him eat for a minute. “How about I get you a cup of coffee to go with that?”
He glanced at her, and his face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you. But I can get it myself. You know you don’t have to wait on me, right?”
She shook her head, rose and brought over the coffee. “Sometimes it’s nice to help people.”
He was obviously feeling better because his grin deepened. “Besides, that’s what friends do.”
She chuckled, remembering their early discussion. “Absolutely.”
He polished off his food and pushed back his plate with a happy sigh. “Now that’s a whole lot better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t have enough for breakfast. My mistake. I won’t do that again.”
She nodded, watching him carefully as the color returned to his face, and the absolute sheer fatigue slipped off his features. “It’s amazing how quickly that helped.”
“I’ll be back to normal within another few minutes.” He studied her for a long moment. “You know? I have been thinking a lot about the discussion we had the other day. About friends. I realized there’s one thing that you do very well that I need to learn to do.”
She looked at him in surprise. “What’s that?”
“Stand on my own two feet when I need to—without friends to support me.”
Chapter 8
Hannah stared at him in surprise. “Why is that an issue?”
He toyed with his coffee cup for a long moment before he looked at her and gave her the ghost of a smile. “Well, Brock is leaving in only two to three weeks or so. But only because I was talking to you did I consider it. One of the reasons I was so excited to come here was because my friends were here. Friends who have always been part of my adult life, helping me get through the tough times. Not sure I would have gotten through it without them.”
She sat back. “I’m sure you could have,” she said warmly.
“But I don’t know that I could,” he said with a gentle smile. “It’s not been something I’ve ever had to do. It’s not that I’ve ever been tested to be sure.”
“What about growing up?”
He shrugged. “A rural high school and elementary school was normal.” He chuckled. “I know I had friends. It’s one of the re
asons why, when I was at BUD/s training, it was easy for me to sort through and pick out people who I knew were my kind. And teamwork has always been a big part of military life. Particularly in my case. Our unit was tight. We are brothers, and we always had each other’s back. And that hasn’t changed, even though the three of us are out of the navy now. That we’re all injured and that we’re all here adds to the fact that we’re helping each other.”
“Are you afraid that if Brock and Cole weren’t here, you wouldn’t do as well?”
He winced, then nodded. “Maybe a little.”
She tilted her head and considered the issue. “For myself, I’ve always been mostly alone. I kept trying to look for people who were of my mind-set, but I never really succeeded.”
“I keep coming back to a fundamental question. If I had been injured first and if I’d have come here alone, would I have done as well as Brock?”
She stared at him, seeing the earnestness, the determination, the absolute knowledge that he’d had a helping hand when Brock didn’t. And the worry that Denton couldn’t have done as well on his own.
“I don’t know, but I believe you would have. It’s not that you had friends to help you do the actual rehab here, but they were a kind of a security blanket, knowing that, if you ever needed somebody to call on or someone to talk to, they were there.”
“Absolutely. But Brock had to do it himself. Brock had to stand on his own two feet to make this happen. Cole came in, and he was so busy playing catch-up with Brock he almost lost his way. But because Brock was here and the others were here to help Cole slow down and to give him a chance to be here on his own, he picked up and is doing well. But now I’ve arrived, and of course, already this whole group was here waiting for me, like a safety net. That made it easier on me.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she exclaimed. “This isn’t meant to be a battle of the toughest or a test for the best-mental-fitness-single-performance. Every one of you has different challenges and issues to overcome. It’s not been easy for anybody.”
He settled back, staring at his coffee.
She leaned forward and gently placed her hand on top of his. “I’m so sorry if I made you doubt yourself. That’s not what I intended at all.”
His gaze lifted, and he studied her. “You had nothing to do with me doubting myself. I think a part of me says I’m not as good as the other two because this wasn’t easier for me.”
She shook her head. “Why does any of this matter? This is hard enough for all of you.” She glared at him. “If you need to have some kind of a test to see how you do without your friends, pick something that doesn’t matter quite so much. This is when you need your friends. Be grateful you have them.”
“I am grateful,” he said sincerely. “Don’t get me wrong. It makes me wonder how I would fare on my own. It’s not that I’m being competitive because I’m not.”
It never occurred to her that he would question such a thing. She’d been alone so much of her life, looking on the outside of all these groups, wondering how to become part of them, and instead he was inside one of the groups, wondering if he could stand without support from that same group. She shook her head. “I can’t say it’s anything I ever wondered about.”
“That’s because you have yourself. When things get down, you know you can buck up.”
“So can you.” She leaned forward earnestly. “More than most people. You did what was necessary—you made it. And now you’re lucky enough to have friends on your side to help you get through another difficulty. Don’t ever doubt that you’re incapable of doing it on your own.”
He gave her a sheepish grin and nodded. “Maybe you’re right. But it started eating away at me today, thinking that I’ve always had help, that someone was always there, giving me assistance. Just even being here,” he said. “I didn’t have money and the financial backing.” He lifted his arms and opened them wide. “Why me? Because I have friends? Because I know people?”
She shook her head. “Because you’re in need.” She grinned. “Talk to Dani about that one. She has several people on tap who she contacts on a regular basis when she sees people in need who don’t have the funds to come to Hathaway. She has a rotating system. She always has somebody who cannot pay the full price. Does that make a difference to her? Not at all. Should it make a difference to you? Absolutely not.”
He leaned forward. “That’s what I mean. See? I couldn’t get here on my own. It took her. It took her financial backers to get me here, whoever they were.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. “I think you’re going about this from a completely skewed perspective. It’s not that you’re not grateful for all you’ve been given, but you’re questioning whether you deserve any of this. There are so many other things you could sit here and question. This doesn’t need to be one of them. When you get a gift like financial backing, it should have you thinking of how best you can make them not regret giving it to you.”
Denton sat there and stared at her, a huge smile building on his face. “You know? That was a promise I made to myself when I got here—to do a damn good job of everything for everyone who had done something to get me here,” he said. “Somewhere along the line, I had forgotten that promise.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t need to be brought up every moment of the day. Every day it’s a challenge to step up and do what you can do. It’s doing and knowing that you’ve done your best, day after day, that counts. And that is hard to do. Hard to maintain.”
He chuckled. “You’d make a hell of a cheerleader.”
“I was never a cheerleader. I never made the team.” She sat back in her chair. “I was always average at a lot of things but never great at anything.”
His eyebrows shot up. “The one thing you are not is average,” he said. He reached across the table this time and cupped her hand with his. His strong fingers closed gently around her much smaller hand. “You are very special.”
She wanted to withdraw her hand, but he wouldn’t let her.
He continued quietly. “And you’re not used to compliments. You’re not used to people saying good things about you because you’re not used to having friends.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Most of the friends I thought I once had used to insult each other rather than compliment them,” she said, attempting to keep her voice light rather than share that pain. She loved the feel of his much rougher skin against hers. They were just so different. His hand was strong, lean and masculine—hers was softer, rounder, slim. And so very feminine in comparison. She stared at their joined hands, spreading her fingers out to line up with his. “You’re right. I’m not used to compliments. That makes me feel socially awkward.”
“You’re not socially awkward. You’re a very good person on the inside, so maybe you’re one of those people who likes to have one or two good friends instead of a whole pile of acquaintances.”
She nodded. “The one good friend I had died. Way back when I was twelve. She died in a car accident with her mom.” She bit her lip at the memory. “It was hard for me, but my parents … I don’t think they understood how absolutely destroyed I was.”
“Was that your first experience with death?”
She nodded. “It was. And it was a hell of a lesson.”
He gave her a gentle, knowing smile. “Maybe it’s time for you to examine that. Because what we tend to learn from our first major tragedy is an awareness that people do disappear forever. People who we love and care about from one moment to the next are gone. And a lot of people close off their feelings because they think if they care again and lose that person too, it would be devastating. I’ve seen this happen time and time again,” he said. “They choose not to have good friends to save themselves the pain of losing them in the future.”
She sat back and stared at him. “You know? I had totally forgotten about that accident. It was so long ago.” She cast her mind back and winced. “In fact, I’d even changed schools around that
time. I couldn’t stand being around the same people and the same places, the school breaks and recesses I’d spent with her. I figured, in a new school, I would have new experiences, new friends, but I was still so hurt and in so much pain I closed myself off.”
He nodded in a slow, compassionate way. “Chances are that’s what this is all about. Open yourself up to a little bit of trust in your life, and you’ll be just fine.”
She chuckled. “I don’t think it’s quite that easy.”
“Why don’t we put it to the test over the next few days?” he suggested. “We work hard at me standing on my own two feet without always thinking about my friends, and you doing something every day to make new ones.”
She chuckled. “Well, that’s easier on me probably.”
“The people you have to pick from are all around you, but that doesn’t mean you want to make friends with all of them.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “So, what do you think?”
She held out her hand to shake on it. “Sure. But you’d better take good care of yourself because if I find you lapsing, forgetting food throughout the day, then I win,” she said with a mild threat.
His grin widened. “Deal.”
There was no reason for Denton to be bothered about his friendships, but at the same time, they did concern him. Because as his friends headed off into their futures, on their own paths, Denton was afraid the shock of losing them both would be a bit much. It wouldn’t be at the same time so he’d have a chance to adjust to the loss but … He hated to think that that would even come into question because he wanted them to be happy. It didn’t mean they would necessarily separate, but their relationships would change.
Hannah was right about something else. He’d allowed his blood sugar to drop, weakening him. That shouldn’t have happened. Normally he kept snacks with him all the time to pick up his energy level. It had something to do with his muscles dumping the glycogen after working out way too fast. He didn’t quite understand it. But he knew that if he didn’t take care of himself, his blood sugar levels would drop.
