I swallow and blink at the ceiling, trying to come up with something to say but drawing a blank. So, I whisper, “Okay.”
“See you tomorrow?” Grace says like it’s a question.
It takes a moment for the words to sink in. “You-you still want to see me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to bother you or anythi—”
“It’s okay. It’s more than okay—” I stop the rush of words and pinch my eyes shut, my cheeks heating. “I mean, sure.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.” She’s smiling. I can feel it. I exhale, relief causing my body to relax.
“Okay. Night, Gracie,” I say quickly before I end up saying something that might change her mind.
“Night, Sol.” And then the line goes dead.
The way she says my name sends warmth down my limbs. I sink back into the pillows and close my eyes. Tomorrow can’t get here fast enough, but I’m also praying for a way for time to stand still. Am I strong enough to look into her eyes and see the fear reflected on her face?
The door opens, and a nurse walks in. I push my worries aside and force a smile as she greets me and starts taking my vitals. Tomorrow needs to come faster.
After my morning sponge bath with the help of one of the nurses on the morning shift, the physical therapist—a tall dude with dark hair and muscular arms—walks in carrying two crutches. He introduces himself as Wayne and explains that my assigned therapist is out of town. She’ll be back this weekend. After a few stretching exercises, coupled with a few leg raises, he scribbles on his chart, then focuses on me again.
“We have sessions every day this week, so the exercises should help loosen those muscles and keep the joints flexible.” He sets my foot back on the bed, then leans forward to inspect it. “Wiggle your toes for me.”
Bracing for the pain, I do as he says. Even that tiny movement has me clenching my jaw as pain bounces all over my body, and tears blur my vision. Shit. I need a break. I’m not sure I can do this anymore. He hums under his breath.
My uncle wanted to be around for my first session, so he stands on the other side of the bed next to a male nurse. He watches as Wayne assists me, grasping my right leg and carefully moving it until I’m sitting upright on the edge of the mattress. I hiss and clench my jaw as pain pierces from the incision, spreading all over my body. By the time both legs are positioned on the side of the bed, I’m sweating, and my heart is racing.
“Take deep breaths. You’re doing really great,” Wayne says. “Okay, now I want you to put your arm around me and stand. Focus on putting your weight on your good leg.”
I do as he says. An ache shoots through my right shoulder, but it’s dulled by the pain medication. Wayne heaves me up, then motions for the nurse to bring the crutches. He adjusts the armrests to my proper height, then rattles off a few tips and directions on how to use the crutches.
The second I take the first step, my right foot touches the floor, and my vision blurs as pain unlike anything I’ve experienced rushes through me.
Oh, God. I’m going to pass out. I sit back down and close my eyes, then breathe until all that remains is a dull ache.
“Want to try this again?”
“I can’t—”
“Just one more time. Come on,” he encourages.
This time, I manage to keep my foot off the floor until halfway to the door. My left foot buckles from taking most of my weight. The crutches slip from under my arms, and I stumble forward, bearing weight on my right leg before Wayne and the nurse can catch me.
“Aaaaaarrghh!” My vision blurs as white-hot pain wracks through my body. Bile burns my throat. Every part of me throbs. Tears roll down my cheeks.
One minute, I’m on the verge of blacking out, and the next, I’m seated on a hard surface. A chair, I think.
Fingers brush my hair back from my forehead, then a familiar face appears in front of me. Luke.
He crouches down so we are on eye level, his eyes dark with panic. “Sol, hey—”
“No!” I yell. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“You are doing so well—”
“Don’t try to handle me, Luke. It’s just too much. The pain . . . I can’t. Just get out.” I jerk my head up and meet Wayne’s gaze. “Get out!”
Silence plummets the room, then my uncle stands. “Can you give us a moment, please?”
“Sure,” Wayne says. “We’ll be right outside.”
After they leave, Luke’s hand grasps the back of my neck, urging me to meet his gaze. I swipe the tears on my cheeks with my hand.
“Sol, how you just acted . . . I taught you better than that. They are just trying to help you.”
“I just want to be left alone.”
“Look. I know you’re in pain, but that doesn’t justify you behaving like that.”
“You have no idea what this feels like,” I snap. “You can’t even begin to fathom how painful this is.”
He sighs, mouth turning downward. “If there was any way I could trade places with you and take the pain away, I would.”
“What if I never walk again? What if my leg stays messed up like this forever?” More tears fall down my cheeks. Luke crouches down, and I notice his wet cheeks. He’s hurting just like me, but his pain isn’t physical, it’s emotional, and it’s all because of me.
“The Lord didn’t bring you this far for you to give up now. You have to trust in Him. He will see you through this. Do you understand me?” When I don’t say anything, his hand squeezes gently on my nape as if he’s trying to drive a point home. “You are a fighter, Sol. You have always been a fighter.”
“Yeah?”
Luke chuckles. “Yeah. Even when you were a baby learning to walk, you would bump into everything. You wouldn’t even cry. You’d just get back up and keep going. You get that from your mother. And if she and your father were here today, they’d tell you to get back up and keep moving. To work through the pain. Refuse to give up until you’ve reached your goal. So that’s what you’re going to do, Sol. You’re going to keep moving until you can walk again. You’ve never been a quitter, and I’m not going to let you start today, understood?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now I’m going to let Wayne back in here, and you’re going to complete your session.”
Luke stands and wipes the lingering tears off his face, then heads to the door.
“Hey, Luke?” I say.
He halts, one hand on the doorknob, and glances over his shoulder at me. “Yes?”
I smile. “Thank you.”
He smiles back, eyes gentle. “You are my sister’s child. Stubborn as a mule with the soul of an angel.” He walks out, and I hear him say, “He’s ready.”
Wayne and the nurse walk back in moments later.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for my outburst. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“No worries, we’re used to it,” Wayne says with a patient smile that makes me feel even more guilty. “At least you didn’t throw a bedpan at us. I should get hazard pay for that one. That was a bad day.”