But that day, he was determined not to fail. Because that day, it was not AJ and Howie watching him. It was Claire.
After hearing that AJ and Howie had been coming to the sessions, she’d begged him to let her come to one too, and finally, he’d relented. Only now he was regretting that decision. Even though she sat quietly off to one side of the room, observing him without a word, just her presence was distracting him, making him nervous. He’d already stumbled more than usual, and his grip on the crutches was loose, the result of his sweaty palms.
“Do you need a break, Nick?” Susan asked, steadying him with strong hands as he caught the toe of the prosthetic foot on the floor and nearly took a nose dive.
“No,” he snapped, squaring his jaw and inhaling deeply, trying to slow his racing heart.
“All right,” Susan said patiently. “Let’s finish this lap, and then you can rest for a few minutes.”
He frowned at the way she seemed to be using reverse psychology on him, making finishing the lap seem like a chore and resting seem like a reward. He was tired and knew he was pushing himself, but he was determined to impress Claire, and stopping to rest was not on his agenda.
When he made it back to the spot where they had started out, Susan motioned to a chair pushed up against the wall, but he shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t want to stop yet, I’m fine,” he insisted. “I wanna try without the crutches now.”
The physical therapist looked at him, one eyebrow slightly arched. “Are you sure? Do you feel like you’re ready?”
“Do you think I am?” he shot back, silently begging for her approval.
“If you think you’re ready and want to try, I’m right there with you,” said Susan, gently patting his shoulder. “But I don’t want you trying to do something you’re not ready for to just to show off for a certain someone.” Without turning her head, her eyes slid over to where Claire was perched on a chair against the adjacent wall. Nick couldn’t help but glance over too. Claire met his gaze and smiled, and he awkwardly grinned back, hoping his cheeks weren’t turning as red as they felt.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Susan with a little smirk, causing Nick’s attention to jerk back to her.
“Huh?”
“Take her out of the picture for now,” Susan advised. “Do you feel up to trying this today?”
“Yes,” Nick said firmly.
A smile spread over the therapist’s face. “Okay then. Come on over to the parallel bars, and I want you to start out there.”
Nick obeyed, hobbling on over to the long set of bars where he had first learned to take a step on the prosthesis. Setting his crutches aside, he stood between the bars, lightly holding onto them for balance.
“All right, Nick... go ahead whenever you’re ready. Try to walk without holding onto the bars, but know that they’re there if you start to lose your balance,” instructed Susan.
Nick nodded and determinedly let go, dropping his hands to his sides. He stood still for a few seconds, making sure he was balanced. Extending his hip so that the knee of the prosthesis straightened and stabilized, he took a deep breath and shifted his full weight to the left leg, taking a step forward with his right. He had done this so many times, but never without some kind of support, some way to keep himself balanced. Still, he managed to take a step and move the weight back to his good leg without stumbling. Then, turning and flexing his left hip, he swung the prosthetic leg forward, planting its heel on the ground and slowly transferring his weight back to that side.
The process was slow, and he was especially cautious without his crutches, afraid of falling and determined not to have to use the bars. But with each step, it became easier. He was doing it. He was walking alone, unaided.
“That’s wonderful, Nick, you’re doing great,” Susan praised, walking alongside him outside the bars. “Do you want to try out on the floor, without the bars?” she asked when he’d reached the end.
Wiping perspiration from his forehead, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly.
Studying him, Susan nodded. “All right, let’s go for it. You just keep on walking, and I’ll be right at your side; I won’t let you fall.” Nick nodded and swallowed nervously. This was it, sort of the moment of truth, the culmination of weeks of taxing physical therapy. Physically, he was worn out, but his mental determination was strong.
He thought of all his years of performing, all the tours, the countless number of concerts, dancing and singing his heart out under bright, hot stage lights for two hours a night, nearly every night, for months at a time. He’d battled exhaustion before, oh yes. When you were a popstar, one fifth of a world famous music group, it didn’t matter how tired you were, how many hours of sleep you’d gotten, or how high your fever was. When you got on stage, you performed, and you performed well. In the Backstreet Boys, there was just no half-assing it. Nick had mastered the art of summoning up energy that he just didn’t have, of hiding fatigue, sickness, and pain in front of the masses of screaming fans who came to see him perform.
It was time to use that skill now.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself forward, repeating the same motions he’d done within the safety of the parallel bars, slowly but surely stepping forward first with his good leg and then with the artificial one. He kept his eyes straight ahead, refusing to let them shift over to where Claire was sitting, focusing instead on the far wall straight across the large therapy room. The wall looked so far away, but he was dead set on making it there, on at least covering one length of the room without the help of bars or crutches or even the guiding hands of his physical therapist, who walked slowly alongside him, ready to steady him if he stumbled, but otherwise not touching him, letting him go on unaided.
Nick was young and strong, agile and athletic from years of intensive dancing and playing sports, and this played to his advantage. He was in fairly good shape, with the exception of the obvious, and it was this, combined with his spirit and willpower, that kept him going, even when he would rather sink to the ground and give up in a fit of exhaustion.
When he finally made it across the room, when he finally reached out to weakly touch the wall he’d been eyeing for the whole trek, it felt like the greatest accomplishment in his life. Compared to everything he’d done in life and all that he’d been through, it seemed so minor. And yet it was huge.
“Well, there you go, Nick, you did it.” Squeezing his shoulder, Susan beamed with admiration. “And you’ve only had this leg for two weeks. That’s incredible. Most of my patients, especially above knee amputees, take longer to get to this point. You’ve gotten through the worst of it now; everything will be going up from here on out.”
Claire had gotten up from her seat and now jogged over, a mile-wide grin stretching across her face.
“That’s one small step for Nick,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.
She giggled. “And one giant leap for Nick-kind?”
“Something like that,” he snorted.
“Aww... you did good, Stumpy. Come here.” Gingerly, she wrapped him in a hug, sending shockwaves through his body and a smile to his lips.
“Thanks, Ren,” he said softly, rubbing his hand across her back.
Pulling back, she beamed up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s get out of here,” she suggested. “We need to celebrate.”
He chuckled. “First I need to get to the door,” he said, eyeing the set of doors on the opposite side of the room.
“Well, you can do it. Come on.” Sliding her arm around his back and draping his left arm across her shoulders, she walked slowly alongside him, guiding him back across the room, where his crutches lay unused. “You want those?” she asked, motioning to them.
“No,” he shook his head. “I’m gonna leave this place on my own two feet. Or my... well... you know.”
“I know,” she smiled and bent to pick up the crutches. “I guess I’m stuck carrying these then?”
He grinned and shrugged blithely. “Guess so.”
Leisurely, they made their way out of the physical therapy center. When he got outside the building, the world seemed a different place. Never had the sun seemed so radiant, the sky so blue, the grass so green. Never had the ground felt so good beneath his feet.
Propping his pair of crutches up against a post, Claire said, “You wait right here; I’m going to go get my car and pull up, okay?”
“’Kay,” replied Nick, smiling as he watched her walk off into the parking lot. As he waited for her to drive the car around, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, thoroughly pleased with his ability to do so. There was so much he had taken for granted before this had happened to him. Things like walking... never had he thought he would have to learn to walk all over again, not on his own two feet, but on an artificial leg.
And yet, now that he had achieved it, he was grateful. Grateful for the ability and so much more. Grateful for the beautiful spring day blooming around him, grateful for life, for the fresh air that filled his lungs, and grateful for the people who had put their lives on hold for him, who had been there to take care of him and cheer him on, support him in more ways than one through the most trying ordeal of his life.
People like Claire, who was just now hopping out of her Toyota, a smile on her face as she sprinted around to help get him into the passenger side and the abandoned pair of crutches into the backseat. Settling back in the passenger seat, Nick let out a sigh, glad to be off his feet and sitting down again, and cranked up the radio. Claire had it tuned to a rock station, and the song that was playing couldn’t have been more perfect. Smiling, he sang along softly, as Claire climbed back in, put the car into gear, and sped away.
***
