Reaching Rose (Hunter Hill University Book 3) (7 page)

BEN

Johnny and I were disappointed when Rose didn't show up to watch a movie with us last night. Truth be told, I was the one disappointed. Johnny seemed uninterested in even watching the movie. The poor guy gets tired easily, and last night, he looked beat. His curtain is closed this morning, and it sounds like he's still sleeping, despite it being nearly eleven in the morning.

Saturdays are a little more laid back, and we only have one therapy session, so we're allowed to sleep in if we choose to. I chose not to and had breakfast in the cafeteria with a lot of the center's employees and the patients' visitors. There were some patients eating in the cafe, but I think most of them were outpatients. The inpatients usually eat in the rec center.

But after breakfast, I came back to the room to see if Johnny wanted to hang. Since he's still sleeping, I head down to the rec and promise myself I'll sit and rest my leg when I get there. It's hard to sit still, but Craig insists that I rest it, and because I still have some pain and weakness, I intend on obeying him. I grab a soda out of the fridge, sit on one of the reclining couches and give my mom a call.

"Benito, it's so good to hear your voice," she says upon answering.

"Hey, Ma. Miss you."

"Miss you too, Benny. How's pain?"

"Pain's not too bad. I'm doin' good. They unlocked my brace, so I'm walking around again."

"Oh, so good. When you come home?"

"Not sure. My therapist said another week."

"Good. Good. Papa and I come see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. That'd be good. Listen, Ma, can you or Dad call the doctor? Craig said he wanted me to get an MRI on my knee, but I didn’t want to call the doctor from here. So you think you can call?

"Sure. I'll call Monday. I don't think he's in on Saturday. I'll try though, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Ma. See ya tomorrow?"

"See ya tomorrow, baby. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

Just as I slip my phone into the pocket of my sweats, I see Rose walk in with one of the weekend nurses. The nurse is talking to her, and Rose is just nodding. When the nurse points over to the lounge area, Rose shrugs, and then she sees me. I hope this encourages her to sit here.

She looks down at the floor, but I notice she allows the nurse to lead her over here.

"You want to sit here?" the nurse asks, pointing to the couch that sits adjacent to mine.

"Rose, why don't you sit here?" I speak quickly, before she has a chance to respond to the nurse.

"Oh, you know each other?" the nurse asks, taking Rose by the elbow and guiding her in my direction. "Okay, if you need anything, just press the button on your pager."

"You have a pager?" I ask Rose after her nurse leaves.

I expect her to nod in response, but she presses her lips together then opens them and takes a breath. "I guess they give them to the patients who can't get around on their own."

Oh my God, her voice is soft, and sweet, and childlike. I nod and stare. And then I come back to Earth. "You have a sweet voice. You should use it more often."

Her peachy complexion turns more peach. "Thank you," she says very softly.

"We missed you last night."

She just nods.

"Cat got your tongue again?"

She closes her eyes and shakes her head, but she does present me with a close-mouthed smile.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was trying to make a joke, but...it wasn't funny. I'm sorry."

Again, her eyes close briefly, and she laughs one silent laugh.

"Please don't stop talking again on account of my being an ass. You have such a sweet voice. It's meant to be heard."

"S'okay." She barely opens her mouth, but at least she says something.

"Do you have therapy at noon too?" I'm trying to make small talk, but it's difficult. I don't want to say anything that might offend her or trigger her tears. I'm not sure what I said yesterday to cause them, but I'm afraid to do it again.

Now I know I have the option of just leaving her be. Not paying any attention to her. Hey, if someone doesn't want your friendship, why try to attain it? But I don't think that's the case with Rose. I believe with Rose, it's a matter of helping her see through this. It's not that she doesn't want me as a friend - it's that she doesn't know how to be a friend in her new body. She doesn't know how to exist in her new life.

Rose holds up her fingers, and at first I think she's telling me to, "Wait a second," but she's actually telling me she has therapy at one.

"Ah. Mine's at noon...obviously."

"Are...you here long? At...rehab?" Her voice is tiny, but it's beautiful. It flows, like a song.

"No. About another week. You?"

She shrugs. "Guess it depends on me." She frowns.

"On you?"

"I...I haven't been well behaved," she speaks under her breath; I can barely hear her.

"Well behaved, did you say?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"You're the quietest girl I've ever met. I don't believe you have it in you to misbehave.”

She closes her eyes again. Only this time, she keeps them closed, and I'm hoping I haven't caused her to cry again.

"Rose?"

She turns her head and looks at me. Right in the eyes. "I'm not a happy person. And I haven't been very cooperative."

"I'm sure it's not easy facing a substantial lifestyle change." While I'm speaking the words, I'm wondering if I shouldn't be saying them, but I want to get close to this girl. I know she intrigues me, but she also smells so. Damn. Good.

"It hasn't been. No," she admits quietly.

She's struggling. I hear it in her barely audible voice. I see it in the way her fists are tightly clenched. And I see it in the rigid way she holds herself.

"I have no way of knowing what you are going through right now, but I imagine you'll learn to adjust. Eventually."

She only nods. Her fists are still clenched so tightly, her knuckles are bright white. I'm also guessing her fingers are in an awful lot of pain as well.

"You're in good hands here. My coach thinks so anyway. He's the one making me be here."

I laugh at the confusion on her face.

"I had meniscus repair surgery. I could have recovered from home. Gone to therapy a couple times a week as an outpatient. But he's ensuring that I'm
fully capable to be back on the field for the spring season.
His words. Not mine."

"Baseball?"

"Yup. Pitcher."

She nods her approval.

I want to ask her if she does any sports, but thankfully, for a change, my mouth doesn't spew before my brain has a chance to register what it's going to say, and I refrain from asking her something that I'm positive would trigger tears. At the very least, resentment.

I'm just about to ask her what kind of music she likes, but there's a guy wearing athletic gear and an unbuttoned lab coat standing at the door, searching for Benito Falco.

"That's me," I answer, standing up.

"I'm your PT today."

"Oh." I look at Rose. "Hopefully I'll see you later?"

She just nods. But I get a smile. Complete with dimple and all.

ROSE

Thank God he left.

I couldn't stand talking to him.

It took all my mental strength to not scream or, and this is new for me, to not punch something.

Ben is sweet. He's funny. He's so darn cute. In my old life, I'd have loved every single moment he'd pay me any attention. But today. Now. Me being a total mess. Scarred down one whole side of my body. I couldn't
not
be preoccupied with how I probably look from his eyes.

Will I be this self-conscious the rest of my life?

Before the accident, I never gave a second thought about my appearance. Yes, I took care to look neat and put-together. And yes, I kept myself trim so I'd look good dancing on stage.

But I never.

Never.

Cared how I looked while having a conversation with another person.

Now.

It's all I can think about.

Poor Rose with her half-a-leg and Jack Skellington face.

I guess I'm more vain than I thought I was.

But before I'm able to slink too far into myself, the rec room phone rings, and the aide who answers it tells me it's for me.

I point to myself, unbelieving that someone would be calling on the phone for me.

"You're Rose Duncan, right?"

"Yes," I say, too low for her to hear, but I nod my head and use the arm of the couch and my cane to slowly come to a stand.

When the aide sees me struggling, she motions to help me, but I hold up my hand, to my surprise, in silent protest.
I got it
, my mind says, though my mouth doesn't.

"Hello?" I keep my voice low when I take the receiver.

"Rose? Is that you, honey? You're really talking again?"

"Mom?"

"Dr. Rappaport called me to tell me. Oh, baby, you don't know how happy that makes me. Oh, I want to come down today, but Daddy's so busy on the farm. But I told Dr. Rappaport if you needed me, I'd come."

"No. Mom...it's okay."

"Really? Dr. Rappaport didn't think it was necessary, but I wanted to check with you. You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Rose. He said you hit the anger stage."

I don't respond.

"It's okay, honey. He said it's healthy. You're moving forward. I'm so happy, Rosie. I can't wait 'til you come home."

"Me too."

"Okay, baby. I'll let you go. Call me if you want me to come down before Wednesday. Otherwise, I'll see you Wednesday. I love you."

"Love you too."

Just as I'm making my way back to the couch, someone calls my name again, and I recognize the voice immediately. I'm excited and agitated at the same time. Using my cane to help me, I turn around slowly, and without being able to help myself, I smile and cry at the same time.

"No. No. Rose. I didn't come here to make you cry."

Putting her hands on my shoulders and searching my eyes, she says, "I came here to tell you to wise the fuck up and get better already."

And right away, I'm laughing along with my tears. God, how I've missed her.

"Oh, Holly."

"What the hell, Rose? You trying to play hero by getting through this by yourself?" She pulls away, and I turn to lead her to a table. When we're sitting next to each other, she looks at me and says, "Why couldn't you just call me? I could have been here for you the whole time. And wait. Your mother said you weren't talking. You said my name. Are you cured?" She's teasing me. Typical Holly. I've missed her so much. She'd become my best friend and dorm mate on the first day of college three years ago.

"Far from it," I tell her.

"So why did your mom say you weren't talking?"

"I wasn't. I just...started."

"You just started talking? Since your accident?"

I nod.

"Rose. How long has it been? I haven't heard from you in months."

"June 12th."

"You speak so softly now, I can hardly hear you. June 12th? That's, like, what, a week after you got to New York, isn't it? You didn't even get to...Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry."

"It was three weeks
before the show opened." My chest hurts saying this out loud.

"Your mom said it was a delivery truck?"

Again, I nod. Dr. Rappaport's been trying to talk about this for weeks, Holly visits, and she gets me spilling my guts. Sort of.

"Oh my God. What do you remember from it?"

"Not much. I remember pain and then waking up two months later."

"Two months? Holy shit."

"I need water," I say, pushing away from the table to get some from the water cooler.

Rose comes with me, holding my hand as we slowly make it over to the cooler.

"So two months you were in a coma?"

"A medically induced coma. I had a lot of infections and a bad head injury."

"Is that why you didn't talk for so long?"

"I think that was psychological. Something about it being selective or conversion," I say slowly, softly. "They rattled off so many reasons."

"Then why are you talking now? So low, but you're talking."

"I don't know. Doctor said I hit the next stage or something."

"Next stage?"

"Anger."

"You? Angry? I don't believe that. You don't look angry."

"I'm happy to see you, Holly, but I'm not happy," I admit, sitting back down at the table. "In fact, for the first time ever, I wanted to punch something today. Yesterday...I had to be restrained."

"Oh my God," she says of my being restrained. Then she looks down at my lap. "Can I see it?” she asks carefully.

Reluctantly, I fold up my yoga pants and show Holly my metal leg...plastic foot attached.

"It's not so bad, Rose. Your pants cover it. But, you can never wear shoes again?"

Shoes are the least of my worries. I can never
dance
again. "This isn't my permanent leg. I'm told that one's
much prettier
," I say bitterly.

"At least you don't have to try to find a monster shoe to fit that thing into," she says, referring to the ugly foot attached to my metal robot leg.

Rolling down my pants, I say, "I can never dance again, Holly."

She closes her eyes, and I get the feeling she already realizes this.

"I don't know, Rose. People run marathons with
no
legs. I think if it's something you want badly enough, you can do it. Besides, I was researching online after your mother came by the other day. Did you know there was a double amputee on Dancing with the Stars?"

That's right, I'd forgotten about Amy Purdy.

"Yup. And then I looked some more. There are a lot of dancers who have one or no legs."

"Ballerinas?"

"I think so. Yeah." She looks me in the eyes and gets so close I think she's going to kiss me. "This isn't a prison sentence. You can still plan the life you wanted. You just have to change the way you go about it."

"When did
you
get so...encouraging?”

"Rose. I
love
psychology.
Love it
. The best decision I ever made was to switch from finance to psych and social services. I love...helping people, I guess you can say." Holly bops her head from side to side, smiling modestly.

"That's right. You wanted to switch last time I saw you. I forgot about that."

"You're forgiven. You had other things on your mind," she jokes, before turning all serious. "Cooperate, Rose. Your mom said you haven't been. I miss you. I want you back at school."

"School? I haven't even thought about it."

"It's probably the best thing for you. Even if it's one or two classes to start. You can live with me and Griff."

"Griffin?"

"Yeah, I took him up on his offer to move into his house."

"In his billiard room?"

"No, no. Hurley moved out before the summer. I took his room. And then Braden transferred to Monmouth this semester, so you'd be able to have his room."

I start to clench my fists, feeling agitated at the thought of my future. "Holly. You're...you're going too fast for me. I'm just trying to find my way back home right now."

Seeing Holly makes me happy, but it's also making me sad and very edgy. She makes it sound so simple. It's not simple at all.

"Well, when you’re ready...I'm gonna talk to Griffin, so...keep it in mind at least?"

"I will. Thanks."

"I love you, Rose," Holly says, taking me in a big bear hug, so different than she was last May.

"Love you too, Holl."

"They told me you have PT at one. Can I walk you there?"

"I'd like that. Thanks."