“How much do you need for the tip?” asked Lori, reaching for her purse.
“I’ve got this,” he assured her.
“And I’m getting the tip,” she stated firmly. “How much?”
“Twelve would cover it,” he relented, taking some bills out of his wallet.
“There you go,” she handed him fifteen dollars. “I’m going to the ladies room. I’ll see you back at the truck.”
“Be careful.”
“I’m fine, Jake,” she assured him.
When she came out of the restaurant a few minutes later, Jake was standing waiting for her beside the truck. He was smiling and looked every inch the rock star with his tight black jeans, loose black shirt and long blonde hair. Everything about him was the polar opposite to her previous boyfriends. Well, it was time she had a bit of fun she guessed, as she reached the truck. As he lifted her up onto the seat, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. She lifted her face and brushed a gentle kiss onto his cheek.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Pleasure,” said Jake, closing the door gently.
Lori noticed the half full bottle of wine was sitting in the centre console storage box. She also caught sight of a guitar case behind the driver’s seat.
When Mary pulled into the driveway the next morning she was mildly surprised to see a truck parked in her usual spot under the tree. She didn’t need to be told who the owner was – Miss May had met her at church the previous Sunday and told her about Lori’s visit to the shop. Once inside, Mary went about her usual morning routine in the kitchen, then went through to the sunroom to tidy up. She only just stifled a scream as she found Jake sprawled out across the couch sound asleep. There was a discarded pair of jeans and a shirt on the floor. His guitar was propped up in the corner. Silently she slipped out and went in search of Lori. As Mary entered the bedroom, Lori was just getting out of bed.
“Morning,” greeted Mary, her tone sharper than she had intended.
“Morning,” said Lori with a yawn. “Did I sleep in or are you early?”
“A bit of both,” answered the housekeeper. “I didn’t know you were having a guest over last night?”
Lori blushed, then threw her a puzzled look.
“He’s still here,” stated Mary, folding her arms across her ample chest. “Out cold in the sunroom.”
Lori burst out laughing at her housekeeper’s motherly dressing down. Here she was almost thirty years old, getting a lecture about having a friend over. The older woman struggled to see the humour in the situation and demanded an explanation.
“Jake took me to dinner last night,” Lori explained. “When we got back he came in for a drink. The waitress had insisted we take our bottle of wine home from the restaurant. We got talking. We opened another bottle from the store in the basement. It got late and I said to Jake to lock up when he was leaving. He was playing his guitar when I went to bed about two.”
“And how much did you have to drink?” demanded Mary, staring at her intently.
“Relax,” said Lori, getting to her feet. “I had two glasses of wine, maybe three. No more. Yes, I know it doesn’t go with my pain meds. I haven’t taken any since late yesterday afternoon. No, I didn’t get drunk. I just had some fun with a friend.”
Mary relaxed a little.
“We talked. He played some music. That was it,” stated Lori. “Now I better go and wake sleeping beauty. Would you mind putting the coffee pot on?”
“Harrumph,” muttered Mary as she turned on her heel and headed back to the kitchen.
Still laughing, Lori made her way down the hallway and through the lounge to avoid the kitchen. Trying to be as quiet as she could, she made her way into the sunroom. Exactly as Mary described, Jake lay along the larger of the two couches. He had dragged a blanket over himself, the fleecy one she kept for snuggling into if it was cold. Carefully, she bent down beside him and ran her fingers through his long hair, clearing it off his face. He stirred slightly in his sleep. Trying not to giggle, she laid a hand on his bare shoulder, not surprised to find his shoulders and back tattooed. She traced the outline of one with her finger and he stirred again.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” she whispered in his ear before she kissed it.
He opened one sleepy eye without moving, “Wha’?”
“Good morning,” she repeated and stepped back, sensing imminent movement.
Suddenly realising where he was, Jake turned to face the back of the couch instead of getting up. His head was pounding and his back was aching from a night sleeping twisted on the sofa.
“Shit,” he muttered into the fabric of the couch.
His pounding head was suddenly filled with Lori’s musical laughter. She had moved to sit on the edge of the other settee and was enjoying watching him squirm.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he said, rolling over and sitting up. “What time is it?”
“I think it’s around nine,” giggled Lori. “You ok?”
He nodded as he ran his hands through his hair, “I’m really sorry.”
“Stop apologising,” said Lori warmly. “I’ll get you a coffee while you pull yourself together. I don’t think Mary is ready to see you in your boxers.”
“Shit, is she here?”
Lori nodded, “She found you out here.”
He cringed and shook his head. “No. Please tell me you are joking?”
“No. She found you. I think she got quite a fright,” laughed Lori. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. We’re not kids.”
Jake just stared at her with a look of complete and utter embarrassment. How could he have been so stupid? After Lori had gone to bed, he had kept on playing his guitar for a while, trying to work out something new. He’d finished the wine and felt a little drunk. He remembered getting undressed and lying down on the couch to sleep, but he was sure he had set the alarm on his phone for seven o’clock. If he got up early he had figured he could slip out before Lori was awake. His cell phone lay on his shirt. He checked and found the battery was dead. By now Lori had left the sunroom and gone through to the kitchen. He quickly pulled on his jeans and his shirt, then followed her through. She was sitting at the table with a coffee and a cinnamon bagel. Another mug was sitting opposite her along with a large glass of orange juice. Over at the stove Mary was cooking eggs and bacon.
“I really am sorry,” he said, sitting down at the table.
“Will you stop apologising,” said Lori then added, “There’s no harm done. How’s your head this morning?”
“I’ll live,” he replied, downing the glass of orange juice.
Mary placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him and cleared away the empty glass, “Best cure for a hangover is to feed it. You gave me quite a start this morning, young man.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologised yet again.
“Lori’s right. No harm done. Now, do both of you want to come clean about what’s been going on around here for the last few days?” teased Mary, some of the usual warmth creeping back into her voice. “Whatever it is, it’s been good for Lori.”
While Jake ate his breakfast, Lori explained about their outing into town, the note and the T-shirt and finally last night’s dinner date. Unable to keep up the charade of being angry, Mary too confessed that she had met Miss May, who had told her that she had seen the couple in town on Saturday afternoon. They agreed that there would be no more sneaking about and no more secrets.
Once the meal was almost over and Jake was on his second mug of coffee, he said, “Do you mind if I leave the truck here till after work?”
“Not at all,” said Lori. “What time do you finish work?”
“Around eight tonight,” he replied. “I’ve got an eight hour shift.”
“Why don’t you come back here for dinner? No pizza, I promise,” suggested Lori hopefully,
“If you don’t mind, but I can’t stay late. I promise I’ll go home by ten.”
Lori laughed, “Be caref
ul what you promise.”
He swallowed the last of his coffee, then rose to leave, “Thanks for breakfast, Mary.”
“Not a problem, son,” she said warmly. “Just give me a bit of warning next time.”
“I’ll try,” he promised. “And thanks again.”
“See you tonight,” said Lori softly. “Dinner will be ready at eight thirty.”
“I’ll be here.”
♪
After Jake left, Mary reminded Lori that she had an appointment at the medical centre at midday. She had not forgotten, but had tried to push it to the back of her mind. Over the last few months she had had her fill of doctors, but she had promised Jo that she would go. Once she was showered and dressed, she came back through to the kitchen to find the housekeeper. The older woman had agreed to drive her out to her appointment. The medical centre was outside town and they had to pass the outlets to get there. Lori suggested that on the way back they stop for a late lunch and a little shopping. Those “sale” signs were still calling to her. Much to her surprise, Mary readily agreed but only if Lori wasn’t too tired after her visit with the doctor.
Shortly before noon Lori found herself sitting in the small waiting room. She was nervous. Her palms were clammy and she could feel her heart racing. Mary had insisted on waiting out in the car with her book, leaving Lori to face her fears on her own. Visits to the doctor filled her with dread and it was twice as daunting when she had never met the doctor before. If she could have run away there and then she would have. She smiled at the irony of it.
“Miss Hyde,” called a warm voice from the doorway. “Let me help you through.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Dr Brent?”
“Guilty as charged. Jo’s told me a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, guiding her into his office. “Take a seat, please.”
Once she was settled, he sat on the edge of the desk and asked her to tell him, in her own words, about what had happened to her, about her surgeries, her recovery and about her recent fall. It wasn’t a tale she could tell without tears, but, when she was overcome by her emotions, Dr Brent gave her time to recover her composure before encouraging her gently to continue. He didn’t rush her. He just listened until she was finished. Once she had told her tale, the doctor said he had arranged for a fresh series of x-rays to be taken and to run some routine bloods. He phoned for a nurse to come and fetch Lori and escort her through to the radiography suite. It took almost an hour to complete the x-rays and blood work and then she found herself back in the original waiting room. Her leg was starting to ache after all the bending and stretching into various positions for the x-rays. She was rummaging in her bag for some pain killers when Dr Brent called her back through to his office.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, taking a seat at his desk.
“A bit sore,” she confessed quietly.
“Understandable,” he nodded, opening his desk drawer. “Take two of these if you need to.”
He passed her a bottle of Advil.
“Thanks,” she said helping herself to two of the white pills while the doctor fetched her some water.
“I see from your records you’ve been prescribed some strong opiate pain medication. Do you still use it?” he asked, as she passed the bottle of pills back.
“I’ve cut the doses right back,” answered Lori bluntly. “I’m not a Vicodin junkie if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Glad to hear it. Stick to Advil if you can cope on it,” he replied. “Now let’s take a look at your x-rays.”
He turned his computer screen round so she could see the fresh images for herself. Lori turned away. Looking at the x-rays was hard for her.
“Some impressive hardware in there,” commented Dr Brent. “That’s a lot of carpentry.”
“I know,” she sighed, glancing up at the mess of screws and plates and the ever present titanium rod.
“Well the good news is that it looks to be healing nicely, slowly but nicely, and you don’t appear to have rearranged anything when you fell. Usually at this stage in the recovery I would be talking to patients about when we can look to remove some of the metalwork. I’m sorry to say that it looks like you may have yours long term. There’s still a degree of healing going on there, especially around the point of impact.”
She nodded with reluctant acceptance.
“Right, let’s get you up onto the couch and I’ll take a closer look at how your scars have healed.”
The doctor helped her onto the couch and she focussed on the ceiling while he assessed the extent of the scarring to her leg. He tested the range of movement she had achieved and seemed genuinely pleased with her progress. Carefully he helped her down and back over to the chair.
“I’m not able to work miracles, Miss Hyde,” he said quietly. “You’re healing well, if a little slowly. Your scarring is extensive, but the scars themselves are not hindering your recovery. There’s minimal loss of skin sensation in your thigh area and some muscle loss, but I’m confident that in time you will be able to walk unaided, but possibly only for short distances. A lot of what happens from here on in is down to you.”
Lori looked at him and nodded. There were unshed tears in her eyes.
“Stick with the physical therapy regime. Try to minimise the use of pain meds if you can. It’s going to be a long slow road, but you are getting there,” he said in an attempt to reassure her. “I’m going to be totally honest with you. If your initial orthopaedic surgeon hadn’t been as skilled, we would be talking prosthetics now.”
“I know,” whispered Lori, as a single tear slid down her cheek.
“Hey, there’s no need for tears, Lori. Your therapist has a great programme worked out for you. She’ll get you through this,” he promised. “I have a lot of faith in her.”
Lori looked up and smiled weakly.
“I should have,” added John Brent. “She’s my wife.”
“Your wife?” echoed Lori, her eyes wide in surprise. “Jo never said. She’s been fantastic. So patient with me. It’s the time this is all taking. The lack of progress. It’s frustrating.”
“I know,” said the doctor. “I’ll speak to her about increasing the intensity of your rehab plan, but this isn’t something we can force. Ok?”
“I’m ok,” she replied. “I get it.”
“I know you do. Now I’m going to get my secretary to make a follow up appointment for you for six weeks’ time. We can reassess then.”
Mary was totally engrossed in her crime novel when Lori returned to the car. As they pulled out of the parking lot she asked Lori how the appointment had gone. Calmly Lori explained what John Brent had said, then burst into tears. By the time they had pulled off the Coastal Highway into the outlets’ car park Lori had calmed down and sobbed out all of her frustrations. As they headed across to the food court, Mary put her arm around her shoulders and whispered, “You’ll get there, honey. You’ve come such a long way already.”
“Thanks, Mary,” she said with a smile. “Let’s get some lunch. I’m hungry, then I’m ready to shop.”
After a brief lunch of a slice of pizza and a soda, the two women spent an hour or so shopping round the Midway and Bayside sections of the outlet complex. Lori listened to the call of the “Sale” and “70% off” signs and treated herself to a few new items for her wardrobe. Even Mary succumbed to the call of the “sign” and purchased a few bits and pieces. A little retail therapy proved to be good for both of them. They made a brief stop at the food store as they drove back to the house. At the sight of Jake’s truck still parked in the driveway Lori smiled. Only a few short hours before he would be over.
Once they were inside Mary chased Lori into the sunroom to take a rest for a while. The day’s exertions had left her looking pale and drawn and the housekeeper was concerned at just how much it had taken out of her charge. Over the weeks she had grown very fond of her mistress and protective in a motherly fashion. Feeling every inch of her ache, Lo
ri retreated to the sunroom without complaint. She opened the patio doors to allow some fresh sea air to filter through, then stretched out on the couch. Casually she ran her hand up and down her injured thigh and sighed. The day had taken it out of her both physically and emotionally and her leg was throbbing. She adjusted the cushions about her, placed one under her knees, then lay back and closed her eyes. Within seconds she had drifted off to sleep; a thankfully dreamless sleep. An hour later Mary came through and reluctantly wakened her to explain what she had prepared for dinner and to say goodbye for the day. Sleepily Lori listened to the instructions about turning on the oven and taking things out the refrigerator ahead of time. The housekeeper added that she had made a jug of homemade lemonade and that it was chilling in the fridge.
After the older woman had left Lori went to freshen up and change before Jake arrived. She was back in the sunroom with at least an hour to spare and felt at a bit of a loose end. Spotting Jake’s guitar still propped up in the corner, she decided to do a quick sketch of it to pass the time. Pausing only to turn on the oven for dinner, as instructed, Lori focussed on the drawing. Art was a good escape from the day, allowing her to banish everything else from her mind. She was so engrossed in the sketch that she never heard Jake approach across the sun deck and gave a start when he called “Hello” from the doorway.
“Hi,” she said, dropping her pencil. “How was your day?”
“Don’t ask,” he growled, flopping down on the couch.
“That good?” she sympathised softly.
“Something smells good,” commented Jake. “And it doesn’t smell like pizza.”
Lori laughed as she stood up stiffly. “It’s chicken. Mary’s special recipe. I think you’ve won her over.”
Jake smiled, “Do you need a hand with dinner?”
“Probably,” admitted Lori, adjusting her grip on her crutch. “Come through and keep me company while I figure it out.”
Between them it took only a few minutes to serve the meal and to settle themselves at the kitchen table. Mary had laid two places in the dining room, but neither of them felt like being so formal and agreed to sit in the kitchen instead. Ever the gentleman, Jake stepped in and offered to serve while Lori poured their drinks.
Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1) Page 5
