By the time he’s finished with me, I’m a wreck. Squeeze the ball with your hand, he said. Sounded quite simple, but the effort to get my muscles to send the right signals to my fingers made my arm and head hurt. As for walking on crutches, that wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t going to be released until I proved I could manage stairs.
I was determined to do it. Bad foot down, good foot up. Or, as he’d put it, down to hell and up to heaven so I wouldn’t forget. But that shit was hard. It wasn’t going to beat me, though, I want out of this place.
There I was wondering whether Vanna as she is now is the woman I really want as my wife when it looks like I could be getting the better part of the bargain. What’s she getting? A thirty-eight-year-old man who can’t walk unaided.
The last thing I want is a wife who has to be my nurse.
The physio eventually takes pity on me. “Enough for today.”
“Again,” I tell him, determined to make this work. What kind of husband and father would I be if I didn’t make strides in my recovery?
At last, back in my room, I ask him to be honest. I swallow, hoping to hear the right answer.
“Will I ever be able to use my hand and leg properly, eventually?”
He pauses, checks my notes, then looks at me. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s simply impossible to tell. You’ve still got swelling on the brain which is the reason you’re having difficulty with certain things. It could be worse, sometimes after the removal of a tumour, speech is affected, and it’s also fairly common for people to have to learn how to swallow again. It all depends on the area where the tumour was, and how the brain was affected when it was removed. As the swelling goes down, you’ll recover gradually. There’s already a lot of progress you’ve made. You might make a full recovery, or you could be left with some residual weakness on that side.”
“You’re not much comfort.” I try to keep the whine out of my voice, but it’s hard.
“You asked me for honesty. I can’t give guarantees either way. But staying positive, keeping up with your exercises will help.”
“I need my records transferred so I can continue therapy.”
He nods. “I understand your wife has been talking about how to continue your treatment.” He holds out his hand to me, I take it, trying to clasp my fingers around his. “This is our last session,” he says as he shakes it. “I’ll sign you off as fit to be discharged as far as your physical abilities go. Good luck, Mr James.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Vanna
The next day I’m descending the staircase with my small suitcase in my hand, a sullen Cas following behind me, still muttering under his breath.
“I don’t see why we have to leave.”
Praying God grants me patience, I don’t bother explaining again. Liz is so adamant he wants nothing to do with the Satan’s Devils MC, there’s no way I can bring him here. Even though I’m turning down a job offer in order to take him back to the town where I’m very much unemployed. After I’ve spent what’s left of my last paycheck, I don’t even know how I’ll be able to make rent.
I’ve been through many options in my head. I’ve even tried to look for a place here in Pueblo but there’s nothing available in my budget. No, the only answer is to do as Liz expects, and that’s for Cas and me to return to Denver and take him with us, and hope for the best.
But Cas doesn’t want to leave. Part of it, I suspect, is that he’s scared of no longer being the man of the house. That worries me too. I’ve seen glimpses of conflict between my son and his father and know it’s not going to be easy to have Lizard transition back into our lives.
I pause on the bottom step, as three people are blocking my way.
“So, what are the main differences, Shayla?” Mace asks.
The woman shrugs. “Tractors produce torque as their purpose is pulling. Cars, bikes and trucks carry shit. They’ve got suspension, tractors haven’t. Oh, and they’re not tuned for speed.”
“You’re doing okay, though,” Pyro butts in. “Sure, suspension is something you’re overly familiar with, but we can work on that.”
“So cars are built for comfort?” Mace chuckles.
“Sort of,” Shayla replies.
“Excuse us.” Deep in discussion, they haven’t noticed me or Cas. Now I’ve attracted attention, I notice Mace’s sharp eyes on my suitcase.
“Thought you were collecting Lizard and bringing him back here?”
Cas says in a low tone, “I fucking wish we were.”
I silence him with one practiced mom look, then turn back to the man who’d asked. “I wish I could, Mace. But he’s not the man you knew, he’s the man he was before he joined the club. He gets agitated whenever I try to speak of you. He thinks he hates what you stand for.”
“And what the fuck does he think we’re about?” Pyro snarls.
“He thinks you’re a gang—into criminal stuff.”
“You didn’t think of telling him the truth at all?” Mel’s husband snaps.
“What do you think?” It’s my turn to spit the words out. I’ve tried and tried, being convinced it would be the best solution all around to stay at the club. But Liz was equally adamant he wasn’t going to consider it for a moment. Nothing I could say could defend them adequately, as I haven’t known them long, and Liz thought they’d hidden their bad side from me—because they wanted their foot soldier back.
“Demon’s not going to like it,” Mace warns.
“It’s for the best,” I tell him, going back over the similar arguments I’d had with Cas and had used to convince myself Lizard might be right. “His brain’s still healing. Maybe in time he’ll remember the club and want to come back. I wouldn’t get in his way or stop him—”
“You sure about that?” Mace growls. “From where I’m standing, you’re probably glad to get your man to yourself, but don’t forget Vanna. He’s ours too. He’s our fuckin’ brother.”
“I’ve told her that,” Cas barks out. “She won’t listen.”
I throw up my hands. “It’s not me you have to convince, but him. Come on, Cas. Your dad will be waiting for us.”
I walk off, expecting, hoping, my son will follow. To my relief, he does.
It’s what I’ve always wanted isn’t it? For my husband to come home, and then all will be right with the world. So why, I think, as I get into my car, automatically checking Cas is fastening his seat belt, do I feel I’m leaving the best support I could have had behind? Help I might well come to need.
You’re on your own, Vanna. Just as you always have been. Yeah. That sounds about right.
When we get to the hospital, Cas is sullen and Liz impatient. Sorting his discharge papers out takes a while, particularly as he can’t hold a pen and has to sign left-handed. At last a wheelchair and volunteer appears, and with his crutches balanced over his legs, he’s wheeled through the hospital and outside.
As soon as he’s able to, he stands, and after placing the crutches under his arms, balances on his own two feet.