“God, I hope not,” he said. “I’ve barely even begun. I know that I’m afraid that I won’t do well here, but I hope I haven’t already started to make that a reality.”
“What were your first few days like?” the doctor asked.
“Basically, a case of trying to hide away for a few days. I found the whole trip and adjustment a little shocking.”
“And now?”
“I think I’ve adjusted,” he said. “I’ve been through several days of testing, and I’m showing up for my meals and my appointments on my own,” he said slowly. “Though we haven’t really done anything yet.”
“That not really having done anything yet, it’s more of a judgment on your part,” he said, “because I’m sure your team is gathering the information they need to put a program together for you. Which means that they’re doing what they need to do.”
“But it seems like I’m not doing anything yet,” Lance said. “So your analogy just makes me feel like I’ve sabotaged myself and not done my part.”
“Well, why don’t we put that analogy off to the side for later, and you think about it as you go through the next few days to see if you’re actually sabotaging yourself or if you’re just waiting for things to get started and taking the time you needed to adjust being here.”
“That sounds like a cop-out.”
“Look. Maybe for the moment a cop-out is okay too,” the doctor said gently. “We can’t always be on, and we can’t always be perfect all the time. So relax and take it one day at a time.”
Chapter 4
For the next several days Jessica watched over Lance subconsciously, until she realized what she was doing. Then she accepted that she was doing it and continued. When she stopped in three mornings later, he was sitting up in bed, still in his pajamas, looking bleary-eyed. “Bad night?”
He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You could say that.”
“If you need help sleeping at night,” she said, “we do have sleeping pills and other sleep aids you could try.”
He nodded slowly. “Maybe I’ll take you up on it,” he said, “but sleeping pills always leave me groggy and ugly in the morning.”
“We could try some different brands,” she suggested.
He gave a slight shrug. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll take that to mean, I don’t want to take your drugs, so go away and leave me alone,” she said with a laugh. “How did I do?”
After a momentary struggle, a smile emerged on his face, and she chose to take that as a success. Lance was definitely a hard person to read, and every time he shared something that was a bit more personal, communicating a little more freely this time than the last time, she felt like she’d been given the world. Somehow she was seriously hung up on this guy and didn’t really even know how it had happened. “Are you coming for breakfast this morning?”
“I’ll make my way to a shower,” he said, “and then I’ll probably come down. I’m feeling a little on the chilled side.”
She looked at him in surprise, then quickly took his temperature and ran through the rest of her checks. “Everything is normal,” she announced, quickly entering the info on her tablet.
“I think I was just sleeping without my covers overnight,” he said, “and woke up feeling a little off.”
As soon as she was done, she stepped back and said, “Okay, go have your shower,” she said, “then get a hot breakfast.”
He nodded and slowly got up, then, with the crutches, made his way to the dresser. Every step looked painful and slow.
She winced and asked, “Can I help?”
He looked at her in surprise, as if he hadn’t realized she was still in the room. “Just getting clean clothes,” he said.
She walked to the doorway and said, “Remember. If you do need anything,” she said, “a button is on the side of your bed there.”
He just nodded, and she knew that it would take an earthquake or another disaster for him to actually push that little button. With a heavy sigh she walked out and kept on with her rounds. By the time she was done, she was also hungry. She headed down to the kitchen and had Dennis make her a nice bacon and mushroom omelet, which she carried out to the deck. There she sat with her orange juice and omelet, relaxing and eating slowly. She heard voices behind her.
When somebody called out to Lance, she stiffened, then took a surreptitious look around to see where he was. He was sitting, hugging a cup of coffee off to the side, not part of the conversation, but there. His body language said that he wasn’t included. He was backing away from everyone, leaning against the wall, as if he were too tired to stand up. She worried about that.
Because this was the first morning he’d been like that. She wondered if Shane had started to put Lance through his paces yet. That would certainly explain Lance being so tuckered out right now. And, if not, maybe it was just that bad night he’d had. When she got up and cleared away her dishes, he was gone. Saddened, yet going back to her office to add a few notes to his file, she wasn’t surprised later when one of the doctors stopped in.
“Any idea what Lance’s condition today was all about?”
“He said he didn’t sleep well,” she said, “but he just looked off.”
“In pain?”
“Every step he took,” she confirmed.
He nodded. “He’s refusing painkillers.”
“More or less declined the idea of sleeping pills too,” she said. “At least when I suggested the idea this morning. And he didn’t look very impressed.”
“A lot of guys don’t like to take their meds,” he said.
“But are they mandatory meds?”
“No,” he said, “but there’s always that concern that, if they aren’t sleeping, they aren’t healing.”
“I was thinking that too,” she said. “I’ll see what he’s like tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah. Good
