By the next Saturday he had already worked out a series of songs in his mind. Most were on his guitar, but then he would flip over to the piano and play a bit. By the time he was done this Saturday night, he didn’t even want to stop. There were several cries for encores, and he played a couple, but, ever mindful of Dani’s generosity, he had to shut it down, even though he had only exceeded his time by five minutes.
He thanked everybody for coming. “Listen. I’d play longer,” he said, “but I’m grateful for the ninety-minute window we have right now and don’t want to disrespect the privilege.” The crowd agreed, but there were lots of groans and complaints. He smiled and said, “Hey, you know who to take it up with.” They all enjoyed a laugh.
From the back, Dani said, “Hey, thanks for that, Lance. You just threw me under the bus.”
He chuckled and said, “No, I definitely don’t want to do that,” he said. “Because of Dani, I can be here and can play at all.”
That was the pattern for the next couple weeks, and he could feel himself building in strength—with Shane working on his back, his thighs, his posture, and even the way Lance held his neck. Sometimes they practiced with the guitar in his hand, and Shane would correct his posture to strengthen it, so Lance would be okay to play longer. Then they did the same thing on the piano.
“Too bad I don’t have drums,” he said. “I could really see myself pounding out some of that music.”
“I imagine you are great as a drummer too,” Shane said.
“Yes,” he said, “I am. You’ll be happy to know the positioning is different yet again.”
“We’ll get there,” he said. “Maybe we’ll take you to a music store in town, so I can have you sit on everything they offer, and I can take photos to study later.”
Lance looked at him in surprise. “Wow,” he said. “Actually, for drums, it would just be a stool,” he said. “I used to sit on a round stool.” Then he looked around the gym and pointed out one of the stools up against a desk. Something like that. Grabbing his crutches, he made his way over to the side and pulled the stool into the middle of the gym. Then, with his hands holding imaginary wooden drum sticks, he rapped on an imaginary set of drums. Shane watched carefully. When Lance finally stopped and looked over at Shane, Lance smiled sheepishly and said, “That was probably a pretty crazy-looking show.”
“But I’ve got it on video,” Shane said, “and it’s very helpful to see how you’re using your back.” He played it so Lance could see the way he curved and bent.
“So, right across my shoulder blades, I’ve still got that curve that I’m supposed to be straightening up,” he said. “It was really helpful to see it like that though.”
“Exactly,” Shane said. “You’ve come a long way. We’re just tuning little bits and pieces now.”
“Does that mean I’ll get out of here soon?”
“Probably another eight to ten weeks,” Shane said. “I don’t want you to leave until you’re strong, capable, and vibrant, and when you have a plan in place for moving forward,” he said. “Too often people get impatient, and they leave because they have friends and family they want to get back to, or a career, and they’re at that 80 percent mark,” he said. “I want to get everybody to the 100 percent mark, so they can maintain what they’ve accomplished. There’ll be some slippage,” he said. “That’s to be expected because you won’t be having therapy every day. So you’ll want to make sure you’re at 100 percent, so the slippage only takes you back down to 90 or 95.”
“Or I don’t leave until I’m 120 percent,” he said with a big smile. “And then I’m only at 100 when I’m done slipping.”
“Or you don’t slip at all,” Shane said. “That’s an option too.”
They just chuckled and kept on working. Lance hadn’t heard any more about the blues club from either Jessica or Shane. And he wouldn’t for another few weeks. And, when he did, it came in a surprising form.
Chapter 15
Jessica looked at the email, surprised. She looked over at Dani. “Are you sure this email is for me?”
“I’m not exactly sure who it’s for,” she said, “but I figured you would be the one to start with. It’s from the blues club.”
“But I didn’t give him my email. I just said I was from Hathaway House.”
“It’s definitely for their contact at Hathaway House,” she said, “and it says he was talking to somebody from here,” tapping the screen with her finger. “So, that would be you.”
Jessica sat down to read the rest of the message and smiled. “He had told me that one of his musicians was planning on leaving. Apparently that has happened, so now he’s looking for a replacement. I’d been extremely supportive of the idea, but I didn’t want to push Lance into it. I got the feeling he felt like I was pushing,” she said, “so I backed off immediately.”
“Well, this sounds like a great opportunity,” Dani said. “I don’t know where Lance’s progress is at or whether he could make it into town to do a show,” she said, “but it might be a good way to find out.”
“Right,” Jessica said. “Maybe he could even start by doing just an hour and a half on a Friday night,” she said enthusiastically. Then she remembered the distance that had come between them last time over this same topic. “But again, that sounds like me pushing, and this may not be what he wants to do,” she said.
“So just print this off and let him decide,” Dani said.
“The other thing is, it could all be for naught,” she said. “Because he wanted Lance to go in and audition for a spot, if he was
