Road to Recovery (3 page)

Looking down through the water, she
traced the scar on her thigh, still red and raw looking. She wasn’t
a vain person at all, but the sight of that scar less than a year
old made her cringe. Thankfully she couldn’t see the one on her
lower back. She knew it was there, not as big in size, but a bigger
reminder of how lucky she was.

And for every bit of pain she felt
right now, she was thankful that she was able to feel the pain to
begin with—and to walk. Even with the pain, walking was better than
the months in a wheelchair, wondering. Wondering, if she would ever
be the same again.

She wasn’t used to being
dependent on anyone. Those first few months after the accident she
had no choice. Four surgeries, two each on her leg and back, and
the doctors finally declared her put back together enough to move
forward with her recovery. Every bit of pain she felt was a
reminder that she
would
be able to walk again. If she felt pain, then she could
move.

Remembering those first few weeks of
physical therapy made Brooke realize how far she had come. And how
fast. Faster than anyone had thought she could. She’d been so
determined to get back to her life. She’d wanted to move
on.

And then she wanted to move away. Away
from the memories and from her hovering and extremely overbearing
parents. They weren’t happy with her decision to move over three
hours away, but they had little choice in the matter.

She was an adult. She was
capable of taking care of herself. She’d had a good
job—
had,
she
reminded herself. But she knew she could find
another one. She had always been smart with finances, so there was
money put away. Enough to get by for a long time, if need be. She
knew her parents would help, but she refused to consider that an
option.

Thankfully that never became a
necessity. Brooke was offered this job almost immediately and it
seemed logical to accept. It was far enough away that her parents
couldn’t show up during the week for the heck of it, but not so far
that they couldn’t visit for the weekend.

The distraction of the bad memories
kept Brooke in the tub longer than normal. Realizing that the water
had started to turn cold, she pulled herself out of the tub slowly.
Once dried off and changed into shorts and a shirt, she wandered
into the kitchen trying to decide on dinner.

After looking around, she realized she
was too lazy to cook. So she grabbed a bowl from one cabinet and a
box of cereal from another.

While she ate her cereal, she pulled
out a pad and pencil from the neat organizer hanging on the wall
and started to make a list of everything she needed to do this
weekend. She had never been able to get away from household lists
on paper. It seemed like too much effort to pull out her phone or
tablet and put everything on some device. She’d tried but soon
tired of having to power it back up to see what else was on the
list. Much easier and faster to write it down and leave it on the
kitchen table.

Work was another matter, though. Files
full of lists of projects and goals filled every electronic device
she owned. All linked together so she could access it when she
needed.

Finished with her list, she was
content she remembered everything. Her simple dinner eaten, she put
her bowl in the dishwasher, shut the kitchen light off and went out
to watch some TV while she reviewed some files for work. Monday
would be here soon enough and there was still so much more she
needed to figure out.

***

Reaching behind her back, Brooke
pulled up the zipper on her pale mint green dress, then turned her
head to glance at herself from the back in the mirror to make sure
the slim ivory belt wasn’t twisted. Satisfied everything was the
way it belonged, she fastened her belt and looked at herself in the
mirror from the front.

The minute she saw this dress in the
store window of the boutique she knew she had to have it. She had a
weakness for pretty girly clothes. Girly, classic clothes. Nothing
frilly. But soft and feminine just the same. She loved shopping and
loved clothes and shoes. Then again, what girl didn’t?

She wore her fair share of black or
brown, but she always tried for a splash of color. She wasn’t big
on accessories, too much time and effort to make it all match and
look just right. Putting an outfit together, how hard was that
really? A bottom and a top, she could handle, and handle well. But
ask her to start adding jewelry and scarves and she was lost.
Simple and efficient, and she was done.

She grabbed her lightweight ivory
cardigan from the chair to ward off the brisk March morning air.
Then she walked into the closet and pulled her flesh-toned heels
off the meticulously organized shoe racks. Arms filled with her
sweater and shoes, she walked to the front door and set her shoes
on the floor to slip on before she left, then neatly laid her
sweater across her briefcase on the bench.

On her way to the kitchen
to put her lunch together, she heard her phone beep and stepped
over to grab it from her purse. Glancing down she saw her mother’s
text.
Morning, dear. Are you up?

After a five-second internal debate,
Brooke called her. If she didn’t respond now, her mother would call
her at work in a few hours. Better to get it done and over with at
home, because she was pretty sure she was about to get another
lecture.

“
Good morning, Mother.
Everything OK? It’s a bit early for you to be texting me,” she
said.

“
Yes, dear, I’m fine. I
haven’t heard from you in a few days and figured I would have a
better chance to chat with you if I caught you before work. How is
everything going with your new job?” Paula Malone asked, working
her way through what Brooke thought of as her mother’s ice breaking
topics.

“
Good. Matter of fact I’m
trying to get an early start on the morning. I spent time working
this weekend and am eager to get in today,” she replied.

“
Brooklyn, dear, you should
be out having fun on the weekends, not working.” Her mother ignored
her sigh and continued. “But I won’t keep you too long. I wanted to
check in on you, see how you were doing with your physical therapy.
Surely you have gotten a new doctor to work with by
now?”

Brooke sighed louder this time. And
there was the main reason for the text this morning. “No, Mother. I
haven’t had time yet, but it’s on my list of things to do. I’m
fine. I’ve been doing my own rehab in the hospital gym the last few
weeks. I worked with my old doctors enough in the last few months.
I know what I’m doing by now.”

Paula was not someone to be put off.
When she had an opinion, she made sure everyone around her heard
and agreed. And if they didn’t, she would keep hounding and nagging
until you threw your hands up and gave in. “I’m sure you do. But
just in case, you need to have someone to follow up with. The last
thing you need is to injure yourself. It’s only been a few months
since your last surgery. The doctors told you it would be a good
year before you were back to yourself. Maybe I’ll ask your father
to look into some local doctors for you.” She slipped in, “How does
that sound?”

Brooke groaned. True to form, her
mother threw the father card out there. No one ever went against
Richard Malone’s wishes.

Peeking at her slim gold watch, she
interrupted her mother. “You’re right, Mother. I’ll look into it
this week, I promise. Right now I really need to go. I’ll talk to
you later in the week.”

“
OK, dear. If I don’t hear
from you by Friday, I will call back. I expect you to tell me you
have an appointment scheduled,” she chided.

Brooke hoped her voice didn’t relay
the sound of her teeth grinding. “I’ll talk to you later,” she
repeated.

“
You know we only want what
is best for you,” Paula reminded her daughter, ignoring the
attempts Brooke made to end the call until she was good and ready.
When met with Brooke’s silence, Paula finally added, “Bye,
Brooklyn.”

Brooke ended the call, shoved her
phone back in her purse, slipped her heels on, grabbed her
briefcase and sweater, then rushed out the door.

Thankfully the ride in was quiet and
she still managed to beat the morning traffic. After parking her
car, she reached over to grab her briefcase and realized she never
made a lunch. Since she knew she would need an extra dose of
caffeine after her mother’s call, she decided she would run to the
hospital cafeteria and grab something to put away for later, along
with an extra-large coffee.

***

Lucas was reading an email on his
phone when the elevator doors opened. He lifted his eyes, stepped
in, went to push the button for his floor, and saw another hand
beat him to it. Stepping to the back of the elevator, he resumed
reading his email.

The doors opened again on the next
floor, more people piled in, and he felt a nudge on his briefcase
that was draped on his shoulder. Reaching up to secure it more
firmly in place, he made eye contact with the source of the nudge.
Whiskey-colored eyes with flecks of gold met his pale blue
ones.

“
Sorry about that,” she
said politely.

“
No problem,” he replied,
and went back to his email. Then quickly turned his head back
around to her face. He ran his eyes from the top of her head down
to her incredibly sexy heels. Heels, almost the same color as her
legs, giving the illusion of height, even though she was easily six
inches shorter than him standing in them.

It couldn’t be. He was having a hard
time believing his eyes. This couldn’t be the same Brooke from the
gym on Friday. But it was. The same face, the same eyes, hair,
which was now flowing in waves down her back, rather than twisted
up on top of her head.

He realized she was speaking to him,
and, feeling kind of dumb, he asked, “What?”

She looked around, leaned in, and
lowered her voice. “I said, do I have something on my face? You’re
staring.”

Where his normal cool confidence had
just gone was beyond him. He felt as if he had been smacked upside
the head. He didn’t know why he only thought she was pretty when he
first noticed her in the gym. She was more than pretty—she was
stunning. It was the eyes. Never breaking contact from his own,
sending heat right to his core. Did his stomach just flip over?
What the heck was that he felt? It was both exciting and terrifying
at the same time.

Her eyes might have been
looking at him casually, but it didn’t feel casual to him at all.
It was like she was seeing right through him. And right now she was
most likely seeing some idiot pervert who couldn’t even answer a
simple question.
Head out of your ass,
man,
he thought to himself.

“
Sorry. No. Nothing on your
face,” he answered with a corner of his mouth lifting. “At least
nothing that doesn’t already belong there.” She had sharp
cheekbones accented by a cute button nose. Those whiskey-colored
eyes were almond shaped and wide, contrasting to her face, yet the
combination of big eyes and sharp cheekbones worked, and worked
well.

Continuing to watch those big eyes, he
could almost see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure
out how to react. A corner of her mouth quirked up, but before it
could completely reach her eyes, the elevator doors
opened.

Wrapping both hands around her coffee
and the small brown bag she carried, she said, “This is my stop.”
Then walked off and turned to the right toward her
office.

Lucas stepped off and turned left
after her departure. He couldn’t believe that happened. Nothing
like acting like a love-struck teenager. Could it be any more
embarrassing? Thankfully she didn’t know who he was. Next time he
saw her, he would be more prepared. Hopefully he wouldn’t be
distracted by her looks again.

The next day the receptionist
interrupted Brooke. “There is a Cori here to see you. She said she
met you in the gym on Friday? Do you have time for her?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Brooke
absently replied, “Sure, send her in, please.”

A minute later Cori bounced
in, wearing bright pink scrubs. The squeaking from the rubber soles
of her shoes stopped when she stepped onto the carpet in Brooke’s
office. “Hiya, hope it was okay to stop in without warning? I was
up here filling out some papers in payroll and thought I would say
hi. And can I say
wow
. You look different. If I didn’t know I was actually walking
into your office I would have never thought you were the same
person from the gym.”

Blinking at the hurried mouthful of
words that came out of Cori’s mouth, Brooke waved her arm toward
the seat in front of her desk as she reached across to turn off her
iPod. “No, no problem at all. Glad for the interruption. Have a
seat if you have a minute,” Brooke offered politely.

Cori turned her head, looked around and
sat down. “Nice office. A bit small, but private. You get to listen
to music in here if you want? Pretty cool! It would be nice to
listen to music while I worked, would help get through the day. Or
maybe just drown out the patients, eh?” She laughed and shook her
head. “Anyway, I came by to see if you were going to be in the gym
this week. I didn’t see you yesterday and was looking forward to
the entertainment again. By the way, Dr. Wonderful was there
casually looking around the gym yesterday. My bet was he was
looking for you,” she said with a smirk.