difficult as the flight had been to Detroit, the return was even worse. The hope Taylor had nursed five days ago had been replaced with a large empty hole, one she doubted would ever be filled, a wound so fresh and deep that she couldn’t quite comprehend the days and months ahead. Her work, and a lot of help from above, would be her salvation.
And why did this have to happen to Josh? Was this number two of three, as Grandma had warned? If it was, then what else was in store for her? She shook her head and squared her shoulders, dismissing the silly adage as she strode down the hospital corridor, nodding at familiar faces, her gait saying she had no time for idle chatter.
She stepped into the elevator and punched the button for ICU, then punched it again when it didn’t respond, as if the second prompt might speed things along. Others wandered in and she stepped aside. One young man held a large stuffed animal, and his face reflected the joy and pride of a new papa. She stared at the floor and wondered when she might feel joy again.
First Mom, now this. Josh’s dimpled smile flashed in her mind’s eye. So young, so carefree...so handsome. He had everything.
That wasn’t true, she reminded herself. He’d lost a mother, too. At least she had hers for twenty-five years, which was almost twenty years longer than Josh could say. And then another thought crossed her mind: why did people wait for a tragedy to think kindly about certain people? Why did they—she—not see the pain in their eyes before and realize that they carried baggage from the past, too? Like Josh...
The elevator stopped and Taylor excused her way to the front, wondering what she would say to Josh when she saw him. She hadn’t been very nice to him in the past, based mostly on rumors and supposition...and her own prejudice against young people with easy money.
Today would be different; she would look Josh in the eye and start again. There was a good man inside there somewhere; she was sure of it. After all, he was Max’s son. He had to be. And now, more than ever, Josh would need help to see him through.
As she neared ICU she remembered the pastor’s recent eulogy. “When you’re feeling your lowest, reach out to someone else in need...it’s impossible to feel sad when you’re making someone else smile.”
Taylor held tight to that thought and identified herself at the nurses’ station, then pressed the metal plate on the wall for the big double doors to swing open. Why it had to be Josh whom God had chosen to help occupy her days of mourning, she didn’t know. But she made a silent vow that she would do her best to bring a smile back on that handsome face of his.
She stepped into the room and suppressed a moan. Both legs were in traction; a trapeze hung over his chest. Monitors and IVs surrounded him, reminding her of her mother’s plight just days ago. With an ache in her chest, she stepped into the room. Josh’s head was facing the window and she thought he was asleep, but when her shoes squeaked on the tile floor, he looked at her, and amidst a maze of cuts and bruises a big smile washed over his pale lips.
“Hi, gorgeous.” His speech was a little slurred, his tongue sounding thick with drugs. Still, he smiled. “This is much better,” he said.
She moved slowly to his side, wanting to touch him, yet feeling shy for some odd reason. “What’s much better?” she asked, pretending not to notice the extent of his injuries.
“A beautiful nurse! In the movies, there are always young, pretty nurses. I had just about given up.”
Still full of it, she thought, then chuckled. “I’m not a nurse. I’m a—”
“Yeah, yeah. A sadistic physical therapist.”
His smile was firmly in place, a fact that amazed her. She had only to enter his room to achieve her goal. Without thinking, she returned his easy smile.
“Guess that shoulder business was just a sample of what I’m in for, huh?”
Taylor straightened his covers, needing something to do with her hands and having trouble holding his gaze. “You got that right, cowboy. You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“I love it when you talk tough.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see how tough you are in the months to come.”
“Months?” He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Weeks. Once I get out of this place, you wait and see. I’ll be the best success story you’ve ever told.”
She glanced at his elevated legs, hoping he couldn’t read her worries about his paralysis, about the severity of the damage that may have been done. When she looked back at his sleepy face, his smile had disappeared.
“You will be my therapist, won’t you?”
“Yes. Of course. You were one of my favorite patients to abuse.” She swallowed hard and decided it was time to leave. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, and turned to go.
Josh reached out and snagged her hand, his fingers shaking. “I’m glad.” He held her gaze a few seconds too long, then, as if sensing her discomfort, he waved his free hand in the direction of his legs. “It’s temporary, you know. Traumatic something-or-other. Nothing hard work can’t cure.” He tried to move and winced. “I’ll just have to pretend it’s training camp for football. Used to have a pretty grueling schedule, you know. Two-a-days...that’s what they called them. With lots of running and weight lifting in between.” He stopped talking suddenly and studied her face. “But the coach never looked as good as you.” He shot her a roguish wink.
Taylor shook her head, seeing the fear and uncertainty behind all his bravado. “You never quit, do you?”
“Nope,” he said, eyeing her closely and still holding her hand.
The feel of his lingering touch sent her pulse racing. She wondered if he was still thinking of physical therapy; she sure wasn’t. She caught herself quickly and placed his hand on his chest with a gentle pat. She must remember her objectives: to be his physical therapist and part of his healing process as well as her own.
“You need your rest,” she said. “I’ll be back later.”
“Promise?”
She forced a lazy smile. “Promise.”
“Today?”
“If you’d like.”
“I’d like.”
Taylor left the unit, rounded the corner and then stopped, pressing her back to the cold concrete wall and breathing deeply through her mouth. She’d always prided herself in being able to control her emotions. Yes, she had cried over her mother’s death and she surely would again, but she knew Mom was in a better place now and that Dad and Michael would take care of each other.
But who would take care of her? She longed for a hug and a shoulder to lean on. That must be why Josh’s gentle touch had shaken her so.
She pushed off the wall and headed for Max’s office.
Vulnerable. It was only natural that she would feel vulnerable for a while. She would be wise to remember that whenever she was with Josh. He needed her help; she needed to keep busy.
That’s all
