Brave

Chapter 8: Crushes

Patrick arrives in the morning to take me to another physical therapy session. He assists me in transferring to my wheelchair and I feel a beam of pride warm my face when he compliments my strength and graceful ability to do it mostly myself.

I'll admit that even though I'm still a bit jaded about the circumstances, I like Patrick. I mean, not like a crush or anything.

Well maybe it's a little crush.

I had spent a little extra time this morning with my makeup and hair. Of course, I still feel like a freak with only one leg, but Patrick is so gentle and encouraging. He's also pretty good-looking with his bleached blonde hair, angular jaw and blue-green eyes. He seems to keep just enough stubble on his face that I can't tell whether he's trying to grow a beard or if he just favors the scruffy look. Either way, it looks good on him.

As he adjusts the footplate on the wheelchair, I take quick notice, smiling inwardly at the lack of a wedding band on his finger.

Oh, geez, Sarah, he's just a very nice physical therapist! I eventually scold myself. This is his job, to be helpful and friendly and encouraging. Stop thinking about him that way and definitely do not flirt with him!

We use the harness during therapy again, a process that Patrick calls it unweighing. Basically, the contraption takes most of my weight off of my body so that I can learn to stand, balance, and walk without putting too much pressure on my damaged leg. I manage to last a little bit longer this time, making it a half-hour session. After we're finished, I feel more encouraged than I have in days. My left leg is feeling stronger, even if the pain is ever-present. It simply feels good to be upright. And it doesn't hurt that Patrick is so friendly and encouraging.

When we arrive back in my room, he informs me that I will have another PT appointment in the afternoon, but I'm disappointed when he tells me that a different therapist will be working with me on some strengthening and stretching.

I decide to stay in the wheelchair for a bit instead of climbing back into bed. I eat my lunch while browsing channels on TV, settling on a goofy slapstick movie that gives me a few good belly laughs.

Ethan appears just as I'm finished eating, and my laugh turns into a broad smile. I'm starting to look forward to his visits and I'm glad he keeps coming back, even if I'm not sure why. Maybe he has an overactive sense of responsibility for me or something, but I won't complain. I like his company.

"Hi!" I greet him with more enthusiasm than usual.

"Well, hello, Sarah!" He grins back at me and leans in to plant a small kiss on my cheek.

"You look bright and cheerful today," he observes. As he pulls up a chair across from me, I flick off the TV. He brings one leg up and lays his ankle across his knee. That's when I notice that he's wearing a rather garish pair of cowboy boots. I wonder if he's a country music fan. I can't stand country music, but that doesn't seem to bother me in the least right now.

"Yeah, I guess my spirits are up a little more than normal," I shrug, and then I tell him about the things I've been doing in physical therapy and that I feel like I'm getting stronger every day.

"That's great, I'm sure you're working really hard," he tells me with an emphatic nod. Then, pulling a deck of cards from his coat pocket, he asks, "Do you want to play?"

"Um, sure. Do you always carry playing cards around with you?" I ask, a little incredulous.

"Not always," he says with a wink. "Just when I'm visiting pretty girls in the hospital."

Okay, wait a minute. Is he hitting on me? Flirting, maybe?

No, dummy, he's just being nice.