her character role on some stage. she snapped her lips.
clapped her hands and scowled at me.
"You go on and let back to your room and get
yourself ready for your therapy. He'll be here any
minute. Go on, wheel on out of here on your own,"
she charged.
I turned from the table and started away. When
I looked back, I saw her wipe something out of the
corner of her right eye.
Only someone who has cried a great deal
knows why someone else wants to stop the tears. I
thought.
.
The physical therapist was right on time. I
heard the doorbell ring at exactly ten A.M. I waited nervously in my chair facing the door. After all, this was someone with whom I was going to spend a great deal of time and most of my physical energy. I had liked all my therapists at the hospital. They were kind, patient and very knowledgeable people. Most of them were in their mid-thirties and forties and very experienced. That had helped instill some confidence
in me.
I heard Mrs. Bogart's voice. She always spoke
with authority. overpowering. I could barely hear the
therapist as they came down the corridor. My heart
raced. I gripped the sides of my wheelchair and sat as
firmly as I could. Even so. I was not prepared for the
man who appeared.
He had bright carrot short hair, small freckles
on his forehead, nearly luminous turquoise eyes, a
perfectly straight nose with a sensual mouth and a
strong jaw. He was easily six feet two and slim like a
avail-last with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. He was dressed in white pants, sneakers and a
light blue jacket under which he wore a tight T-shirt.
The jacket was open so I could see some of his muscle
development, especially his chest.