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“What was I thinking?” Scott mumbled as he left the rehab center, the fifteen-dollar bouquet he’d bought still in his hands. “It seemed like such a good idea at the time.”
He hadn’t seen Brenda since the day in the hospital when she confronted him in a dreamlike haze. What did he think she was going to do? Miraculously push herself up out of her wheelchair and run to him with open arms like in some cheesy love story made for that equally cheesy women’s cable network? Yes. That’s what he thought. It was what he’d hoped for.
“I think she’d appreciate a visit from you, Scott,” Lawrence Wagner had said when Scott stopped by their house. Mr. Wagner had been working in the garage with the door open. He liked to putter around in there on his days off, drilling holes, sorting screws, filling birdfeeders, and toying with every imaginable tool a craftsman could own, all in complete solitude.
Scott was glad to find him alone. “I didn’t want to stop by and see her if you thought it was a bad idea,” he explained to the man who would have been his father-in-law. After all the trouble and disappointment, Scott had made it a point to personally apologize to both Brenda’s parents. Brenda had been at the skating rink when he’d begged for their forgiveness. Cindy accepted it with an icy nod of her head. Lawrence, on the other hand, looked Scott in the eyes and shook his hand.
Scott couldn’t say with certainty, but he had the feeling Lawrence Wagner was a little relieved his daughter wasn’t getting married, at least not yet. Whether he thought she was too young or because Scott wasn’t Mr. Right, Lawrence never divulged. But Scott always felt he could still go to Lawrence if he needed something. And now, he needed his permission to go see Brenda.
“You don’t think she’ll get mad?” Scott asked with apprehension.
“I think a friendly face will do her some good. It’s not easy for her being away from home and, well, according to Rebecca, her therapist, she’s been having a difficult time in rehab. Poor thing just can’t win these days.” Mr. Wagner shook his head.
The two men stood in the cold garage for a few minutes longer and chatted about football and hockey. It was when their discussion moved to the weather that it happened.
“Well, I’ll be seeing you, Dad.” The word escaped his lips like a puppy that had been caged all day. It was a term of endearment he’d used freely up until the day of the wedding. From the beginning of their courtship, Scott had a comfortable way of relating to Brenda’s parents—until everything got so messy.
“I’m sorry.” Scott lowered his gaze and shook his head. “That just slipped out. Old habits.”
“It’s okay, Scott.”
“No, I mean, you aren’t my dad. It’s just ...”
Lawrence Wagner stood with his back to his workbench, wiping his hands on an old, stained rag that seemed to smear the grease everywhere.
“Scott, it’s all right.” He continued to rub his hands and glanced up at Scott.
Scott breathed a sigh of relief and looked Mr. Wagner in the eyes. “I still love her, Mr. Wagner. I never stopped. If only you knew ... why ... I had no choice ... maybe ...”
Mr. Wagner placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “We all have difficult decisions to make in our lives, Scott. We can only do the best we can and hope it works out.”
Scott thrust his hands into his pants pockets and looked everywhere except at Lawrence’s face. Even though he wanted to be accepted and forgiven, he couldn’t bring himself to look straight into Mr. Wagner’s eyes. He was afraid to see the kindness there.
“Do you think, maybe ...”
Mr. Wagner leaned down and peered at Scott’s face.
“Do you think that if I try, I might ...” Scott hesitated for a second. “I might be able to get her back?”
A smile flashed across Mr. Wagner’s face but vanished as quickly as it came. “Well, you ain’t going to do it by jabber-jawing with me.” Mr. Wagner scratched the top of his head. “I can’t say for sure, Scott, but I’ll tell you this. She hasn’t gone out with anyone seriously since you. But, of course, that could just mean she swore off dating.” Mr. Wagner chuckled at his own comment.
Those words gave Scott hope. With renewed determination, he left the Wagner home and headed off to the rehabilitation center. Before he arrived, he stopped at a nearby florist and bought the prettiest bouquet he could find.
He marched into the rehab building with a smirk of confidence. As he approached the reception desk, he asked the woman behind the counter where he could find Brenda Wagner, proudly adding that he was a friend of hers.
The pudgy receptionist smiled back at him. “Is she expecting you?”
“Um, no. It’s sort of a surprise.”
“Are you family?”
“Um. No. Well. Not technically. I almost was. I mean ...”
“Well, I have to contact the family to make sure they approve if you aren’t on the list of visitors.”
Scott’s shoulders slumped like those of a batter who’d just struck out. There was no way Cindy Wagner was going to add his name to the list of privileged people allowed to visit her daughter.
His musings were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone on the desk. The pudgy receptionist put up one finger, glanced at Scott, and answered the phone in a sweet yet professional manner.
“Well, hello, Mr. Wagner. Is that the gentleman standing right here at my desk this very second? Well, you know, I was just about to call you. We want to make sure our patients feel safe while they get better.” She smiled down at the pad of paper in front of her, scribbling down Scott’s name on the list of people allowed to visit Miss Brenda Wagner.
“Thank you for calling, Mr. Wagner. It was perfect timing.”
Scott stood motionless in front of the desk, unsure what to do next.
The serious expression on the receptionist’s face melted into a smile. “Well, it looks like you’re good to go. We love it when our guests have visitors. It helps to keep them motivated,” she said, standing up and coming around the desk. She put a hand on Scott’s shoulder briefly and then said, “This way.” She led him down the hallway and stepped through an open door midway. “Here we are,” she said, extending her hand into the room.
Scott stepped into the therapy room and immediately saw Brenda. He stood still and studied her face. She was sitting in her wheelchair, looking pitiful and tired, staring at the floor. He assumed she’d just finished a therapy session and needed time to rest. As he took a few steps in her direction, Brenda raised her head. Her face was flushed, and strands of hair were stuck to one cheek.
He watched the emotions play across her face and knew that all hell was about to break loose.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, causing Rebecca and Rose to look up momentarily before refocusing their attention on their session.
“Hi,” Scott said. He felt the heat rise up the back of his neck. “I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. You look great.” His voice wavered.
Brenda pressed her lips together and her forehead creased with tension. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here when I’m having a therapy session. It’s probably too much of a distraction,” she said with irritation.
“Oh, no, Brenda. We encourage family and friends to come,” Rebecca chimed in. “It helps to keep our patients motivated. Come on in, honey,” she said, addressing Scott. “If you can light a fire under this one,” she jerked her head toward Brenda, “I’d be much obliged.”
Scott widened his eyes at Brenda. “What’s she talking about?” he whispered, approaching Brenda and kneeling down to her level. “You’re the most determined woman I know.”
Brenda’s eyes shifted everywhere around the room except at Scott. A part of her heart longed to glance at him, to find that reassuring and comforting look in his eyes that told her everything would be all right, a place where it was OK to be vulnerable and selfish, with her broken body wrapped in his strong arms. It had been in her weakest moments that she found solace in his understanding gaze. Brenda wanted desperately to crawl into his arms, but all she could do was frown at him as the wall of past hurts, and unresolved questions came popping up. She could feel the tension spread throughout her body.
“Look, I don’t need you coming here to patronize me. I’ve got to concentrate ... and well ... you’re just a big distraction. You’re not helping.”
The smile melted from Scott’s face as he leaned back on his haunches before rising to his feet.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a pensive expression. “You’re right. I should have called before I barged over.” Brenda continued to ignore him.
“Brenda,” said Rebecca, turning to face them both. Rose continued her stretching exercises on the floor and watched the scene unfold with curiosity. “You owe me one more time on the bars.”
Brenda expelled a breath from her lungs as a surge of determination took hold of her. She gave Scott the same look an annoyed mother might give a child tugging on her sleeve as she tried to talk on the phone. Pushing her chair into position at the end of the parallel bars, she acted like Scott wasn’t there. Her movements were jerky and, without waiting for Rebecca’s help, she hoisted herself up.
Within seconds, the room began to spin before Brenda’s eyes. Quick movements still caused her to experience vertigo, and her arms trembled under her weight. The whole room tilted sideways and, as she lost strength, she heard the echoing sound of Rebecca’s voice yelling, “Catch her!” Before her body crumpled to the ground, a pair of strong arms caught her. Embarrassment washed over Brenda as she slowly regained her composure, only to be replaced by another awkward moment as she stared into Scott’s soft eyes.
“Take it easy,” he said, smiling at her with concern on his face.
“I’m okay. You can let me go,” Brenda said curtly, struggling to free herself from his arms. “I said I’m okay.” She pushed his arm away and sat up.
“Stop right there, Brenda,” Rebecca ordered. “Don’t move. Just stay there for a minute. Take a few deep breaths.” Her therapist took a deep breath as an example, giving Brenda a chance to follow her instructions and let her head catch up with the rest of her.
Brenda found herself swirling in a strange world. She desperately wanted to get up, bolt out of the therapy room, and lock herself in her room. She was convinced she could do it. Her only challenge was getting herself to sit up. The walls and doorframe might bump her as she made her drunken, sloppy, and hysterical escape, but at least she’d be free of the pathetic stares of everyone around her. But the problem was, she couldn’t sit up. Her heart pounded inside her chest as if she’d run five miles, and she was sure Scott could feel it. She feared her ex-fiancé would jump to conclusions and think she was excited because he was holding her close to him. It would be typical of Scott to be optimistic and assume the best. But nothing could have been farther from the truth. Just because Brenda wasn’t rushing to get away didn’t mean she still had feelings for the guy.
But of course, you still have feelings for him. Brenda turned her head, thinking Rose had said it. But Rose was intently focused on her exercises. Brenda knew Rose would have said something totally flamboyant like, “Of course you’re not over Scott,” or something equally irritating. But no. This voice came from her own mind, her own conscience.
“I feel better,” Brenda said, trying to believe her own words. At this point, she was desperate to exit the room. A couple of aides appeared out of nowhere, and the other therapy patients had stopped to gawk. It wouldn’t have surprised her if a news crew came barging through the door to snap the most humiliating pictures possible and splash them across the front page under headlines that read: “Up-and-coming skater nearly clunks her head again during an attempt to show off in front of ex-fiancé.” Nice. Brenda shook her head, chiding herself.
Jacob, one of the aides, swooped in. He was always pleasant to her, even though she was grouchy almost all the time. Nothing seemed to upset the man.
“Oh, now, that isn’t how you get better, Miss Wagner. You need to listen to Rebecca.” He carefully helped her to a standing position. A wave of relief blanketed Brenda as she clung to his thick arms and took in the overpowering scent of his aftershave. Brenda was thankful that Jacob had rescued her from Scott’s embrace. Another minute and she wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge to feel Scott’s lips against hers.
Rebecca positioned the wheelchair behind her, and Jacob helped Brenda lower herself into the seat.
“Maybe that’s enough for today.” Rebecca gave Brenda a knowing look and stepped aside as Jacob took the handles of the wheelchair. “I think Brenda should get a little rest. But come by and see her in a couple of days,” she said to Scott. “She’ll be back to herself and ready to try again. Right, Brenda?” Her therapist studied her face.
“Don’t come back,” Brenda snapped, glaring at Rebecca and then focusing on Scott. “These people might not know what terrible things you’ve done, but I’ll never forget. You hurt me enough already. I can’t afford for you to do it again.”
Scott opened his mouth to speak, but only breath came out. He watched as Jacob wheeled her out of the room, leaving everyone else in awkward silence.
“I thought so. Only love could stir up such hatred and anger,” said Rose, shaking her head as she sat in her wheelchair. She gave Scott a sympathetic look.
“What’s your name?” Scott came up to her, tilted his head to the side and smiled at her warmly, despite the humiliating circumstances.
“Rose Sawyer. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” She stuck out her frail, delicate hand.
“Scott Porter. It’s nice to meet you, Rose.” He looked toward the door through which Brenda had left.
“That girl has a broken heart,” Rose said. “And as long as she does, she’ll never walk again.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” Scott said to the girl who was at least ten years younger than him.
“It doesn’t take a psychiatrist to figure it out. But you know what, I don’t think all her problems come from a broken heart. She’s got another enemy she’s battling inside. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Rebecca cleared her throat. “Rose, it’s time to get you back to your room. Lunch will be ready soon, and you need to rest. You did great today.”
Rose turned to her therapist. “Thank you, Miss Rebecca. I’m happy with my accomplishments today, and I sure could use a rest.” Her gaze bounced back to Scott. “Scott, maybe we can chat some other time.” She flashed Scott her signature crooked smile.
“I think I’d like that very much, Rose. But I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
Scott jerked his head toward the exit and a sigh escaped his mouth as he lowered his gaze to his feet. On the floor behind him lay a jumbled mess of flowers where he’d dropped them as he caught Brenda. He turned from Rose to the flowers and stooped down to pick them up. He handed them to Rose, but she shook her head.
“I’m afraid my sinuses would torture me. I’m allergic to the pollen.” Rose gave him a smile. “But thank you kindly.” Rebecca slowly wheeled toward the doorway.
As they approached the doorway, Rebecca stopped and turned to Scott. “That’s the first time since she’s been here that I saw Brenda give one hundred and fifty percent. That was a big accomplishment for her. Don’t feel bad. She’ll be all right. You did more to motivate her than a shot of adrenaline.” With those words, they were gone.
Scott stood awkwardly in the exercise room, surrounded by strangers who’d half-heartedly gone back to their therapy. Even though they weren’t looking his way, they were watching his reaction out of the corners of their eyes, like a mystery shopper evaluating an employee. Scott took one last whiff of the bouquet before gently tossing it into the trashcan by the door. Without another word, he quietly shuffled out of the building.
