Nick couldn’t help but laugh. “Where did you get that thing?” he chuckled, his frustration at how therapy had gone quickly evaporating.
“Gift shop,” replied AJ with a grin. “You been in there before? They got all kinds of shit.”
“Yeah,” Nick said tonelessly, as the orderly who had brought him back from the physical therapy room helped him out of the wheelchair and into bed. “I’ve been in there.” Just once, he had, the time he had stopped to buy a bouquet of flowers for Claire. It seemed like that had happened years ago, when really, it had only been a matter of months.
“Cool.” Now that Nick was propped up in bed again, AJ came to stand beside him, making the little parrot dance upon Nick’s shoulder and squawking, “Hel-lo, hel-lo!”
“How was it, Nick?” spoke up Brian, ignoring AJ’s antics.
Nick frowned. The “it” Brian was referring to was, of course, the therapy session, and that was something Nick did not want to reflect on at the moment. It hadn’t gone badly, exactly; in fact, Susan had seemed impressed with the “progress” Nick had made. But that was the thing – to Nick, he had made hardly any progress at all, and it seemed that learning to walk with a prosthetic leg was going to be a lot harder than he had anticipated.
For one thing, he wasn’t yet allowed to put his full body weight on the new prosthetic limb, so actually walking on it was still out of the question. Standing between a pair of long parallel bars to hold on to, he had practiced shifting some of his weight from his right leg to the artificial left one, as well as learning to get the knee to bend. That was taxing enough, and now that he was lying back in bed, he became aware of how exhausted he was just from that.
“Nick?” Brian said again, and Nick realized he hadn’t yet answered his friend.
“It was fine,” he muttered in response, avoiding Brian’s eyes.
“Fine? Well, what did she have you do? I mean, can you walk on it, or... or what?”
“Squaaaaaaawk, shut-up, shut-up!” AJ screeched in his “parrot” voice, making the stuffed bird take off from Nick’s shoulder and dive bomb at Brian’s head.
“AJ, will you please stop?” Brian snapped, swatting the plush parrot away in annoyance.
“Why don’t you stop? He doesn’t want to talk about it; isn’t that obvious? Leave him alone,” AJ retorted, the parrot falling limply at his side.
Brian expelled a rattling sigh. “I’m gonna go to the cafeteria,” he said through gritted teeth. “Nick, you want anything?”
“No.”
“Fine. I’ll be back.” With that, he stormed out of the room.
“Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?” muttered AJ, sinking into the recliner and popping the footrest up.
“Polly. She flew up it,” Nick cracked.
“Haha, good one, Kaos,” snickered AJ. “So, um... you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, but... I take it you weren’t up and running laps around the therapy place?”
Nick smiled slightly. “Not quite.”
“Well, that’s all right. I mean, it was just the first day and all... I’m sure you’ll get to the marathon training next week, eh?” He winked and offered Nick a reassuring smile. “Seriously, man, don’t worry, you’ll get there. And if not, we can always get you one of those Rascal scooter things... those things are da shit!”
Nick snorted, picturing himself chugging along on one of those little red motorized carts that old people use.
“Yeah,” AJ continued, eyes sparkling mischievously, “and then you can pull a Tom Green and go through grocery stores and bump into stuff and knock shit over... it’ll be awesome!”
Nick laughed as that scenario was added to his mental image. “God, could you see the look on Kevin’s face?”
“Oh, he would love it!” exclaimed AJ. “Come on, ol’ Kev’s not that much of a hardass. Pretending to be handicapped and destroying merchandise – ain’t nothin’ wrong with that!” He laughed at his own joke, but Nick had stopped chuckling. Noticing this, AJ glanced over at Nick, his face sobering. “What?”
“Well...” Nick eyed the prosthetic leg. “I wouldn’t really be pretending...”
AJ’s face reddened as he realized his blunder. “I... I’m sorry, dude,” he stammered embarrassedly. “I didn’t mean... well... you know... and anyway, you’re not handicapped... you’re handi-capable, right?”
“You stole that from South Park,” said Nick, managing a hint of a smile.
“That I did,” confessed AJ. “That I did.” He grinned sheepishly, then said, “Hey, speaking of Kevin, wonder when he and D are gonna get here?”
Subject change, thought Nick amusedly.
“I don’t know about them,” another voice answered loudly, “but I’m here!”
“Arrr, there’s the scurvy wench now,” AJ said fondly, as Claire appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, Claire,” smiled Nick, as she breezed into the room, dressed in a pair of dark purple scrubs. She had apparently just gotten off work and come straight to the hospital, as she had done every day that week.
“Girl, how long have you been here?” asked AJ.
“Uh, I just got here,” Claire said, giving him a funny look.
“No, but were you lurking outside the door or something? How did you hear what I said about Kev and Howie?”
“Your voice carries, AJ,” Claire quipped, rolling her eyes. “So, Nick, how- Nick!” She had apparently just spotted the artificial leg resting atop the blankets, for she hurried over, her eyes wide. “Wow...” she said. “You’re like a Transformer now!”
“A Transformer?” AJ repeated, wrinkling his nose. “And what exactly does he transform into? A Rascal scooter?” Again, he cracked up at his own joke, slapping his knee as laughed hysterically.
“Ah, good one,” said Claire with a sarcastic snicker. “Okay, fine, Darth Vader then.”
“Huh?”
“You’re like Darth Vader!” Claire repeated impatiently.
AJ burst out laughing again. “Darth Vader? Darth Vader wore all black and had that cool mask and shit... have you even seen Star Wars?”
“Yes!” insisted Claire. “And I just meant cause of that half man, half machine kind of thing... no offense, Nick.”
Nick barely had a chance to reply, “None taken,” when AJ was already launching into, “Luke... I am your father,” in a rather pitiful Darth Vader impression, complete with heavy breathing.
“Ahh, I give up,” Claire sighed exaggeratedly, nearly flopping down onto Nick’s bed, then catching herself and sinking gently onto the edge of it instead. “So,” she said, patting Nick’s right thigh. “Whatcha been up to today?”
“Oh... stuff,” replied Nick. “Got the peg leg this morning... just got back from some physical therapy crap a little while ago...”
“Peg leg?” Claire repeated, a playful smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.
“Yeah, Nicky’s like a pirate now. We’re calling him Long John Carter,” relayed AJ matter-of-factly.
“Ahh... nice. So, where’s everybody else?”
“Well, Kev and Howie are at a meeting, and Brian’s... back! Hey, Bri.”
At AJ’s words, Nick glanced up to see Brian trudge back into the room, swinging a 20 oz. of Pepsi at his side. “Hey,” said Brian dully. “Hi, Claire.”
“Hey, Brian,” Claire returned casually.
“Yo, Rok, I was just on my way out,” said AJ, jumping up from the recliner. “I thought we could give Ren and Stumpy here a chance hang out. You know, alone?”
“Ren and Stumpy?” repeated Claire incredulously.
Brian grinned, the scowl that had been etched in his handsome features vanishing. “Good idea, J. We’ll be back later.” With that, the two men made an exit, shutting the door behind them and leaving Nick and Claire to exchange baffled looks.
“Did he just insinuate that I look like some kind of deranged chihuahua?” asked Claire.
“I think so,” Nick said with a smirk. “Don’t worry though... you don’t look like a chihuahua.”
“Oh, good,” smiled Claire. “And you don’t look like a big stupid cat... although I’ve never really thought Stimpy looked like cat at all... but that’s what he’s supposed to be, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Claire shrugged. “Well, you don’t look like him. Or Darth Vader.”
“But Darth Vader’s cool.”
“True. Which is another reason why you can’t be Darth Vader.”
Nick took a minute to process this, then expelled a wounded, “Hey!”
Claire giggled. “So... you had some ‘physical therapy crap’? How did that go?”
“Don’t ask,” groaned Nick.
“Really? That bad?”
Nick sighed. “I don’t know... it wasn’t that bad, I guess. It was just... slow. I dunno, I guess I thought after a day or two, I’d be up and walking and stuff, but she won’t even let me put weight on it yet, and at this rate, it’s going to take forever to get back to nor- well, as close to normal as I can get anyway.”
Claire offered him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t really know what to say to that,” she admitted. “I guess I’m supposed to be all ‘rah, rah, you can do it, Nick’ supportive?”
“Nah, that’s okay, Claire, you don’t gotta be my cheerleader – I got five of ‘em already.”
“Well, good,” smiled Claire, “cause cheerleading’s just not my thing. But for the record, Nick, you can do it, and you will, and it’s just going to take some time and some work and a whole lotta shit, but in the end, it’ll happen.”
“Thanks,” he said softly. “And speaking of time and work and shit... I need to turn over.”
Claire’s whole body sagged. “Phew,” she sighed. “I thought you were gonna say you had to take a shit and that I had to help you... not that I wouldn’t, but...” She made a face, and he laughed.
“Uh, no,” he said, sobering. “But I’m supposed to lie flat on my stomach for at least fifteen minutes twice a day to stretch my hips and keep them from stiffening up or something.” He shrugged.
“Oh. Well then, roll over, boy.”
This was easier said than done, but with a lot of grunting and awkwardness and a little help from Claire, Nick managed to successfully flip over so that he was lying on his stomach, legs stretched straight out behind him. He discarded his pillow, turning his head to the side and lying totally flat, just as he had been instructed. It was not really the most enjoyable position, but he had decided that if it would help make the physical therapy easier, he would do it.
“Hey, good thing you’ve got shorts on under that hospital gown, or your ass would totally be showing right now,” said Claire with a snicker. “God, I hate those things – you need to talk someone into letting you wear a t-shirt or something instead.”
“That would be good,” mumbled Nick, his voice slightly muffled by the mattress.
“You don’t look very comfortable,” she observed.
“I’m not.”
“Aww...” He felt her hand run lightly over his back, her fingernails prickling his skin through the thin cotton of his hospital gown. “Is that any better?” she asked.
“Yes,” he breathed, closing his eyes. “Keep going.”
She added the other hand now, scratching and rubbing his back with increased pressure. It felt like heaven, and then he remembered AJ’s comment earlier. And maybe when Claire gets here, she can put on her coconut bra and give him a massage... He began to snicker.
“What?” Claire asked, her hands hesitating.
“You don’t own a coconut bra, by chance, do you?”
“What?!”
“Never mind.”
“Ni-ick... why do I get the feeling you’re making fun of me?”
“I’m not, I’m not,” Nick insisted. “Keep going.”
Claire huffed, but obeyed. He felt her fingers pull at the strings tying the gown together in the back, loosening them. Slowly, she parted the material, and he felt her skin against his, her fingernails circling over his back with a feather light touch that was just enough to give him goosebumps, her palms kneading his flesh with enough pressure to make his tense body fall limp and relaxed.
“You’re just like a dog being petted,” said Claire with a laugh. “I’m waiting for you to start drooling.”
He glanced up at her as best he could and stuck out his tongue. She smiled and patted him on the head, stopping to run her fingers through his hair. Her nails felt good on his scalp, and he knew exactly why most dogs liked to have their heads scratched.
“You’re good to me, you know that?” he murmured.
“Well, you’re good to me too,” she countered sweetly.
It was an exchange they had shared before, and Nick hoped they would share it again. So much had changed, some good, some bad, and things would just keep on doing so. But if there was one thing he never wanted to change, it was Claire and his relationship with her. And in that instant, he vowed to never let that happen. He’d hurt her before, driven her away. Strike one, strike two... strike three, and he’d be out.
But, no... never again... for if she left him now, he didn’t know how he would get through. As long as she stayed at his side, he knew things would all right. He’d made it this far already, gotten through what he hoped was the worst... first base, the surgery... second base, the recovery... and now third base, the rehabilitation. It was Claire’s turn at bat now, and all she had to do was send him home.
The very thought flooded him with longing. Home.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Claire asked suddenly, and Nick smiled.
“Home.”
***
