“I’ve heard that about a lot of animals,” she said, “and I don’t think these guys get to hear very much of it.”
“No, there’s a piano in the back of the big rec room,” he said. “I saw it the other day. It’s the first I actually remembered seeing it, but now I’m looking for instruments all over the place.”
“Is there something else you want to get?”
“Well, I have several instruments in storage at my parents’ house,” he said, “if they’ve kept them. I’m not sure how they feel about being a storehouse for me.”
“I would think, if they were your musical instruments, they would probably hang on to everything, wouldn’t they?” She would at least. She couldn’t imagine being a parent and not.
“They had to downsize here not too long ago, so I don’t know,” he said. “The biggest things to start with were drums, and I had several guitars.”
“Well,” she said, “when you finally get through rehab, you can add music to your list of things you want to do.”
“I really would like to,” he said. “How do you feel about seeing a guy on stage in a wheelchair with a guitar?”
She sat up slowly, then looked at him and said, “On stage?”
He nodded and frowned at her. “Would the wheelchair detract from what the guy could do?”
“No,” she said. “I would think it would emphasize what he can do because he’s doing something,” she said slowly. “So you want to do live shows again?”
He gave her a boyish grin. “Yes,” he said, “I think I do. My favorites are the jazz and the blues clubs.”
“And why the wheelchair?”
“Just in case,” he said, then switched topic.
“So are you tired?” she asked. “We can head back if you are.”
“It feels so nice out here,” he said, “with the breeze in the air.” He lifted his hand and brushed the hair off the nape of his neck. “A haircut would be good.”
“We have a hairdresser who comes through once a month,” she said. “If you want to be put on the list, I can add you.”
“It’s probably not a bad idea,” he said. “I’m used to having my hair so short, and, ever since the accident, well—” He shook his head.
“Do you have any scars on your head that stop the hair from regrowing? Do you want to keep it long enough to cover those?”
He looked at her in surprise. “I’ve got a couple,” he said, “but I never really thought about that. I was just accepting that they were scars.”
“With good reason,” she said, laughing. “But a lot of guys are pretty touchy about it.”
“No point in being touchy,” he said. “My body is riddled with scars.”
They slowly headed back, and this time she carried the guitar on her back, realizing it had a shoulder strap for just this purpose. And, rather than offering to help him push, she just walked beside him, keeping an eye out.
“You’re very attentive,” he said humorously.
“Well, I could say it’s my job,” she said, “not to mention the fact that I like to keep an eye on you.”
He looked up at her, startled.
She shrugged. “Is that wrong?”
“No, not at all. I just wondered if you were like this with everybody.”
“No,” she said, “just a special few.”
He laughed at that. “So I have competition here, do I?”
“Nope, not really,” she said, laughing.
“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure how I’d fare in a competition.”
“Not an issue,” she said. And then she hesitated and finally curiosity overtook her. “So, what about you? Are you in a relationship?”
“No,” he said, “not at all. Haven’t had one since before my accident,” he said.
“And the accidents tend to break everything apart,” she said. “We’ve seen marriages dissolve, and new marriages happen over what our patients go through.”
“I can imagine,” he said. “Though I can’t imagine something like this splitting up a good marriage,” he said, “but I think it would finish a rocky one.”
“That’s what we often see,” she said. “A good marriage only gets stronger, as both partners pull together to survive it, and they end up doing very well,” she said. “But, in so many cases, the other partner figures it’s not what they signed up for, and they walk.”
“That’s got to be devastating,” he said. “I’m glad I was single prior to the accident,” he said. “I would feel like I was dead weight for somebody else to pack.”
“Right,” she said, “and I think that’s how a lot of guys feel. Whereas it’s actually the opposite,” she said. “You come from a unique perspective with a strength that most of us have never had to find out if we have. You have found out who you are and are still working toward improving, while the rest of us go through life blithely unaware of how we’d handle such devastating and painful situations,” she said. “Me? I don’t think I could handle this like you have, and I’ve certainly seen a lot of others who can’t. But, when I see the guys and gals here working so hard—and I see how they progress in their recovery and how they walk forward in whatever form they have to walk forward with—it just makes my heart smile. You guys are just so awesome.”
He chuckled. “That’s not exactly how most of us would view ourselves nowadays.”
“That’s sad. It is,” she said. As they approached the center, Stan whistled and called out, waving her over. She looked over at Lance and said, “Let me go talk to Stan for a few minutes.”
“Just pass me my guitar,” Lance said. “I’ll go up to my room for a little bit,” he said. “I’m a little more tired than I expected.”
She looked at him and frowned.
He waved her off. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Go on,” he said.
Lance watched as Jessica dashed into the vet clinic, then made his
