"So you can sit in that chair now and not rest,
and even wheel yourself up and down the hallway
until your arms ache, but you'll have a better time of it
if you lay down here a while, get some strength back,
have something warm to eat and then start to readjust. "That's my piece. Do what you want," she
added and started out. "I got to get your stuff." Her harsh, frank words brought tears to my
eyes. Doctor Synder had warned me that tears would
come far more often and easily now. She told me not
to pay as much attention to them as I ordinarily
would, but it was difficult to feel those hot drops
zigzagging down my cheeks and pretend it was
nothing. My heart ached more with every heavy beat.
I didn't feel broken as much as empty. Everything
warm and good inside me had been knocked out when
I fell off Rain and onto those rocks.
I sat there staring at the starched white sheets
and pillowcases of my bed. When Jake was driving
me home. I had been looking forward to the soft,
cushiony pillows with their scent of lilacs and the
wonderful down comforter that made me feel snug
and safe. Looking around the room that Aunt Victoria
had remade for me left me feeling she had brought the
hospital in here and I hadn't returned to Grandmother
Hudson's home and my home after all.
The small raft of optimism I had tied to the
dock in my harbor of hope seemed to fizzle and sink
in the cold, dark waves again. In fact. I could feel my
body slumping in the chair. my shoulders dipping. Mrs. Bogart was right. I thought. Why bother
pretending nothing terrible had happened? I wheeled
up to the bed. Reached out and pressed the button to