by Dale Mayer
Once he sat on the mat, Shane said, “We’ll start with floor work, and I’m telling you right now, anytime that we get to a point where you need to stop, you must say so. There’s no shame in telling me to stop. I’m the only one who will hear you say it. When we hit a pain level of six out of ten, I want to hear about it. You’ll do your body more harm than good if you overstress it.”
Gregory just waved his hand at him. “I’ll be fine. What do you want me to do?”
Shane sighed gently, as if he had seen and heard that many, many times, but then he launched into a three-hour session that started off easy. But, by the time he was done, Gregory lay on the mat on his back, his body completely filmed in sweat, visible tremors racking up and down his spine.
He didn’t know what had just happened, but it was something completely different than what he had expected. And he realized just how useless all his previous therapy sessions had been.
Maybe his previous therapists had given him too much positive reinforcement and hadn’t bothered to make him work. But no way would Shane let Gregory off the hook on anything. Shane wanted results, and, according to him, he would get them. It made things very difficult for Gregory when he lay here in shock on the floor, wanting to cry like a baby.
Shane squatted beside him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” he gasped out.
“Well, you’re not fine,” Shane said. “And you didn’t tell me to stop either.”
Gregory winced at that.
Shane saw that and nodded. “You can’t let your pride or your ego come between you and a therapy session,” he said. “That’s never a good thing.”
“How would I know?” he asked.
“Know what? That I would put you through the paces? Well, if you must know, I took it easy on you today,” he said. “I was watching to see at what point you would say something and realized you just wouldn’t. Because, for you, it’s still all about saving face and still all about being the best, and it’s still all about giving a presentation instead of actually being true and honest to the broken body that you’re currently living with. And you have to get rid of all that.
“If you want to get back to where you were, if you want to be that strong, capable, vibrant man that you see yourself as in your head, then you must let go of all that facade. Now you’ve got about forty-five minutes until dinnertime. I suggest you head back to your room and get a shower, and we’ll start again tomorrow.” He got up, seemingly unconcerned, and walked over to make some notes on his tablet.
Gregory lay on the floor, his body so damn weak that he doubted he could make it to his wheelchair, but he’d be damned if he’d ask for help. He rolled over, got up and swayed.
Instantly Shane was there, gripping his forearm. “Remember that thing about pride?” he scolded.
And Gregory, for once, almost felt shame. “Now that you’re here,” he gasped, “can you get me to my wheelchair?”
“The easiest way is to bring the wheelchair to you,” Shane replied. He shifted his position, reached out, snagged it, twirled it around and brought it up right behind Gregory so he could sit down.
Once he’d collapsed, Gregory slowly turned his wheelchair toward the door without saying another word to Shane and headed out.
With all his training, Gregory had always expected to be the best, and somehow he thought he was still. Somehow he thought he had been giving his all and doing everything exactly as he needed to.
Yet always a little bit of him wondered if he had been fooling himself, but he had ignored that nudging.
Slowly, moving as carefully as he could, he made his way to his room, and, as soon as he had the door closed, he leaned back, closed his eyes and cried.
Chapter 6
Meredith came around the corner to see Gregory on his way to his bedroom … and caught sight of his face. He’d found out the reality of being here. She knew Gregory had Shane on his team. Shane was many, many things, and some would say he was a taskmaster, but he was also a good guy, and he wouldn’t push Gregory farther than he had to go, but Shane would push Gregory right up to that level. And obviously, Gregory’s introduction was a little more than he’d expected.
She walked a few steps, wondering if she should knock on his door—when she heard him sob. Immediately her hand went to her mouth, and her heart broke. She hustled away before anybody else realized what was going on and then ran to sit in the privacy of her on-site living quarters, wondering what she should do.
Her shift had ended an hour ago. She had planned to go for an early dinner, but realizing he was as hurt as he was, … should she check in on him? Would he even answer her? Would he answer anybody today?
Obviously today had been hard—physically and mentally and emotionally—and, if he knew he wasn’t alone, maybe it would help. Then again, right now he probably only wanted to be alone. Still warring with herself, she quickly changed, checked the time and realized he’d had a good half hour to shower and potentially pull himself together again. Maybe she’d go by his room again and just knock.
Walking past his room, she stopped, hesitated, then rapped hard. There was no answer. She frowned because she’d seen him go inside. It was possible he’d already headed to dinner; the only other option was he was possibly asleep. She knocked again and thought she heard something on the other side.
“Gregory, it’s Meredith.” She waited and then said in a more authoritative voice, “Let me in.”
“The door is unlocked,” he said, bristling.
She reached for the handle to check, and it was, indeed, unlocked. She opened the door. The patient’s room doors all had locks, but the medical staff had keys if they needed to open any. It was a patient’s right to have privacy, but it wasn’t right to lock everybody out, not in a medical facility like this one.
She stepped inside and took one look at him. He sat on his bed, just a towel around his waist, his body stiff, as if putting on a casual, Hey, I’m fine, good enough show. Meredith may have been fooled if she hadn’t heard him crying earlier.
“I was wondering if you felt up for dinner.” She saw the whisper of pain across his face. “I know you had your first session today with Shane. He’s a really good guy,” she said, knowing she was rambling on but unable to stop herself. “And he’s fair, but he’s also tough. I know he would have worked you hard today. So, if you want to crash on your bed, maybe I can bring you something.” He looked at her, and she could see him warring with the idea. “Remember. It’s not a weakness to accept help,” she said gently. She watched as his shoulders sagged, and then his chest deflated.
“Honestly,” he finally spoke, “I’m not sure I could make it out there.”
Meredith nodded briskly, her compassionate understanding written all over her face. “What would you like for dinner?”
“I’m not … I’m not even hungry.”
“And that’s one of the reasons I wanted to check on you. To get you some food. You need to keep fueling that body. You need good healthy food, and you need to keep those nutrients flowing to heal properly,” she said.
“In that case, just bring me whatever you think I need.” He waved a hand at her. “I’m so damn tired, I don’t think I can even get pants on.”
Meredith walked over to his chest of drawers and pulled open the top one. “How about a pair of boxers or just a pair of sleep pants?” She held them both up as she walked over to him. He frowned at them and chose the boxers.
She gave him the boxers, folded the others and laid them on the small table. “If you want to put these pants on, then fine, you can do that too,” she said. “If they’re still here when I come back, I’ll put them back in the drawer.” With that, Meredith turned and headed to the door.
“Meredith …”
She spun and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Gregory. What’s up?”
He hesitated, and she could see how hard this was for him. Finally, he managed to say, “Thanks.”
She beamed
at him and quickly left his room. It was either that or cry. To see a strong man come to the point of crying was very heartbreaking, but it was also heartwarming. He had a long way to go, but it sounded like he was on his way. And that was worth so much.
She didn’t know who he was right now, but she liked the man she saw. Maybe even more than the Gregory she’d met five years ago. This one had something about him that just endeared him to her. It wasn’t like she collected lame ducks or broken bits of humanity, but to see the strength and to see that humanity inside Gregory now come out in full force? … Well, it was worth everything to her.
Knowing his energy was quickly fading, Gregory managed to get the boxers on and laid the towel over the small table. Standing up just long enough to pull down the bedcovers, he collapsed on the bed, already tilted upward. That way he could rest—or eat—in a seated position, and he closed his eyes.
Meredith’s offer had come at a perfect time. Gregory was grateful he didn’t have to go to the cafeteria for dinner. He was also a little worried about her seeing him like this, but it was obvious that she had seen how he felt regardless, so his act of looking strong and not in crappy shape hadn’t worked. He hadn’t really expected to have a real hope for a relationship with her, but there was always a chance. Still … it wasn’t looking so good to date.
He reached for the sleep pants, struggled to get them on, and then, panting, he collapsed back on the bed. He knew it would take time for his heart rate to calm down and for his sense of complete exhaustion to disappear.
It was early, … only like five-thirty p.m., but hopefully, with any luck, he’d feel better after dinner. Right now he knew he wasn’t leaving his bed for the rest of the evening. He’d been warned, but he’d just been so sure that he knew what to expect …
Something that gave him both hope and trepidation was the thought that tomorrow was another day, and he would face Shane again. Now the good news was that he knew—if he could keep up with Shane’s onslaught of physical rehab—that, in six weeks, Gregory would be incredibly improved. Getting to that point though … was tenuous at best.
Gregory had never turned his back on a challenge before.
He just hadn’t thought he would face this kind of challenge. He’d thought this would be minor.
Maybe it had been his way of dealing with the fact that so little was going on in his world that he thought this would be nothing, when, in truth, this was incredible. He dozed off, and then woke up when he heard someone call him. He opened his eyes to see Meredith handing something to him.
“You ready for food?”
“Sure,” he murmured, shifting. “Sorry. I’m exhausted.”
“I know,” she said. “I can hear it in your voice. Do you want help to sit up?”
He shook his head. “I’m trying to figure out how these beds work.”
“This is one of the new ones, so everything is adjustable.” She quickly showed him the remote and how it worked. With a couple adjustments, he sat almost upright. She brought the small table closer to the side of the bed and placed his tray on it.
As he looked around, she had also brought in a small trolley, and a ton of food was there. “Are you eating too?”
She hesitated and then asked, “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m delighted to have the company.”
“I didn’t want you to eat alone,” she said. “But if you’d prefer to or to eat later, that’s fine.”
“Please,” he said, “join me.” He turned to look at the tray in front of him. “Wow, how did you know that I absolutely love meat pies?”
“I didn’t know, but it is one of Dennis’s favorite dishes, and he does an incredible job on these. So, when I saw them, I figured you might like one.”
“They’re homemade?”
“Well, if you’re asking if Dennis made them, yes, he did.”
Gregory bent to cut into the crust and watched as the steam rose from the center. “You’re really lucky to have him.”
“Absolutely,” Meredith said. “But, at the same time, I think he loves being here. So, if anything, it’s a mutual admiration.”
He chuckled at that. “There’s a lot worse things in life.” The trolley was in front of her, like a table. “Can you eat like that?” he asked.
“I was going to put the tray on my lap,” she said as she moved her tray off the trolley and sat down on the visitor’s chair with her legs lifted on the balls of her feet.
“As long as you’re comfortable,” he said.
“I’ve never been better. Now eat.”
“I notice an awful lot of green on my plate,” he groaned, studying the food choices.
“Yes, you need the vegetables.”
“It’ll take weeks of inhaling vegetables to notice a difference in my body.”
“Were you planning on doing anything in those weeks other than to be here and to try to heal?”
He stopped, frowned, looked at her and said, “Okay, that was mean.”
She laughed. “Not really. If you don’t give your body what it needs, it has to take it from your stores. And you don’t have any stores to give it, so buck up, and start eating properly.”
“But I like my potatoes,” he complained.
“And you have a couple,” she said, “but you have a lot more veggies. And, when you’re done with all those veggies, I brought you a salad.”
He stared at her in horror.
She laughed out loud. “But you like salad.”
“But I’d rather have the meat pies,” he said.
“We’re back to the fact that you told me to get whatever you need, so I did.”
He looked at her plate and said, “You have mostly green.”
“I love vegetables,” she said with a smile. “I know how important they are for me too.”
“And what if I don’t quite like vegetables so much?” He stabbed a fork into the broccoli and picked up a piece, studied it for a long moment, then popped it into his mouth. He lifted his eyebrows. “Okay, so this broccoli is really good.”
“All broccoli is really good,” she corrected.
He shook his head but found himself craving the vegetables, and, before long, they were all gone. He stared at his empty plate in amazement. “Dennis has a swift hand with vegetables too,” he said.
“Absolutely,” she said. “And, if you eat the salad and everything else, you get dessert.”
“What if, instead of dessert, I want another meat pie?” he asked craftily.
“If you think you can still eat it, then you can have it.” She laughed. “I’ll cheerfully go down and get it for you. We just ask that, whatever you take, you eat.”
“And that’s a good rule. I wish the entire world would follow it. I’ve seen too many starving children the world over, and yet, back here, we’re so overfed that we’re dumping food on a daily basis. It’s criminal!”
“Not until they change the laws, it isn’t.” She sighed. “But it’s one of the things that we’re strict about here. In order to keep the food quality up, we have to keep the costs down, and that means less waste.” She laughed suddenly. “Now I sound like Dennis.”
“Well, those meat pies are never going to waste.” But suddenly Gregory came to the bottom of his salad bowl and realized he was really stuffed. “I don’t think I can even eat another meat pie, and that just breaks my heart.”
“If you want, I can ask him to save you one for lunch tomorrow.”
He turned and looked at her in surprise. “Would he do that?” he asked hopefully.
She laughed. “He has no problem doing that.”
“If there are any left …”
She nodded. “When I go get us coffee, I’ll ask him. Doesn’t mean there are many left, but, if there are, I’m sure he’d be happy to put away a couple for you.”
Gregory smiled. “And I would love that. Thank you.”
He watched as she ate at a much slower pace than him. She still had a whole bowl
of salad to get through. But she worked away, quite happily enjoying every bite. That had been one of the things he’d always remembered about her. She’d lived life to the fullest, enjoying everything. Whether it was a glass of water, the sunshine, or the sound of a bird, it had always amazed him. He’d been much more of a go-getter type, while she had been happy to sit and relax.
Gregory had never really found a way to relax back then, but, ever since his hospitalization, he’d had more than enough time to sit still and to think about life. He hadn’t yet found the art of enjoying stillness, but even here—having her eat her meal like she was—it’s like she didn’t want to be anywhere else. And he couldn’t be happier with that thought.
Chapter 7
Meredith woke up the next morning feeling a little sick. Maybe she was just tired; maybe she caught the flu that was going around. Or maybe it was the excitement of finally having Gregory here. So much worrying, so much waiting, and now he was here. She had a flashback of his first couple days, and they had survived. Some sort of camaraderie existed between them. Not exactly a friendship—she felt more professional toward him than anything—but, on the inside, she still had that little bit of anxiety. She wasn’t sure what that meant.
He’d looked so beaten and so sore last night that she couldn’t help but be nice. But she in no way flattered herself to think that they had a friendship. A lot of relationships came and went here, along with the patients; however, she knew of at least a half-dozen relationships that had stuck solid.
But that didn’t mean that anything was here between her and Gregory at this point. In fact, as she got up and had her shower, she couldn’t think of anything that was between them at all. Still, she quickly dressed and headed out for breakfast and then to work.
As she walked into her office, she found stacks of folders waiting for her. She looked at an update note and realized several patients had had bad nights, and the night nurse had been backed up. As Meredith read through the names, she winced to see Gregory’s name there as well.
