Hard Love (Wild Hearts, Contemporary Romance Book 3) Read online

  They pulled up in front of the grade school, and Robbie spotted Anna instantly. She came running to the car, yanked the door open and scrambled up into her seat, but she couldn't quite get the belts connected, so Julie turned around to do that for her.

  “Guess what, guess what, guess what!” Anna said excitedly. “I get to be in a play! I get to play Martha Washington!”

  “Really?” Robbie asked. “Wow, that's so cool! Julie, did you hear that? Anna gets to play Martha Washington.”

  “Yes, I heard,” Julie said. “We have to find out what day it is, so we can all go to watch the play.”

  “I got a note,” Anna said. “It tells all about it.”

  They talked about the play all the way home, and Robbie and Julie were careful to let Anna be the one to tell Aunt Kay and Linda. They were both excited for her, although everyone was fairly sure that Linda wasn't aware of what a play really was. It didn't matter, though; since Anna was so excited about it, Linda would darned well be excited about it, too.

  They got Anna all settled in, and then Robbie went to change clothes. He liked to wear athletic clothes to his PT sessions, simply because they made it a little easier to move. Once he was dressed and ready, he and Julie headed back to her car so that she could take him to his appointment. The clinic he went to was just across town.

  “Hey, Julie?” Robbie asked. “You know how you told me about what happened with your mom, and how that was why you decided to help people like my mom?”

  She glanced at him as she drove, then looked back at the road. “Yeah.”

  “Well, I was thinking,” he said. “What would you think if I said I was thinking about going to school to be a physical therapist?”

  They came to an intersection and the light was red, so Julie had to stop. She took the opportunity to look at him for a moment. “Robbie, I think that would be a great idea. One of the reasons I chose this field is because, from my own experience with my mom, I know what it's like for the families who have to deal with things like this. That's called compassion, and I think that you would have a lot of compassion for people who need physical therapy. I actually think it's a wonderful idea.”

  The light turned green and she drove ahead. Robbie sat there in the car for a moment, just thinking over what she had said. “Yeah, compassion,” he said. “Compassion is a good thing. I really think I could have a lot of compassion for people like me.” He leaned back in the seat and just watched the road ahead for a moment. “Compassion,” he whispered to himself.

  The idea of becoming a physical therapist was one he had been toying with for a few weeks now, maybe even longer than that. Dr. Lindstrom, the physical therapist that he had been seeing for more than a year, was terrific in Robbie's opinion, and was part of the inspiration for the idea. Because he was willing to experiment, to create new, untried exercises that he based on each individual patient and their needs, he did a fantastic job of helping his patients achieve goals they thought would be out of their reach for a long time to come.

  Robbie was a prime example. Despite the fact that he'd gone months with bruising pressure on the spinal cord, and had spent quite a while with no feeling or motor control, Dr. Lindstrom was able to create some very simple exercises that he could do even at home. Just about anything was a tool for Dr. Lindstrom, and he prided himself on being able to find ways to use just about anything. When Robbie had challenged him to find a physical therapy exercise that would make use of an old sock, the old man had looked at him for a moment, then took the sock into his office. He came back a few moments later and handed it back to Robbie, who noticed that it was full of something.

  “What's in that?” Robbie asked, and Dr. Lindstrom chuckled.

  “It's full of paperclips,” the doctor said.

  Robbie rolled his eyes. “Okay, and do you want to tell me how an old sock full of paperclips is going to help me walk again?”

  Dr. Lindstrom, with a twinkle in his eye, nodded his head. “Oh, that's easy,” he said. “Just sit there, and stick your right foot out.” When Robbie had done so, the old physical therapist took the sock and slid it between the two bigger toes on Robbie's foot. “Now, squeeze tight, and don't let it fall.

  Robbie rolled his eyes again, but squeezed his toes together. The sock full of paperclips wasn't terribly heavy, but he was surprised at how much effort it required to keep his toes clamped together. He managed to hold the sock for about a minute, but then it slipped out from between his toes and hit the floor.

  “That was stupid,” Robbie said. “I don't need to build up muscles in my toes to keep things clamped between them, I need to build up muscles in my legs so that I can make them move the way they have to in order for me to walk again.”

  “Precisely,” said Dr. Lindstrom. “Now, while you were holding up a sock full of paperclips by clamping them between your toes, what else were you doing?”

  Robbie looked at him. “Well I—I was looking at my foot, is that what you mean? How does that help?”

  “What you're failing to realize, Robbie,” Dr. Lindstrom said, “was that in order to hold the sock between your toes, you had to hold your foot up off the floor. Now, that was using the muscles in your leg, specifically the muscles in your thigh. Get the point?”

  Robbie never dared to challenge the man again. Instead, he happily tried every new exercise the old fellow came up with. Simple tricks like making a rubber ball roll from side to side just by rolling his heel over it, or using the bristles on a broom to create a small amount of resistance against which to push, showed Robbie that the old man truly did know what he was doing. The more Robbie followed his instructions, the more control he gained over the muscles below his waist.

  The more control he gained, the more he wanted. The first time Robbie was able to walk the full length of the parallel bars, he let out a shout of pure joy, and then announced that he would be walking within six months. That prediction hadn't quite panned out, but now, 15 months later, he could walk back and forth on the bars several times in succession, and was able to use a pair of forearm crutches to get around when he wanted to get out of his wheelchair. He used them often at home, leaving the wheelchair in his room most of the time.

  Everyone at home encouraged him, even Linda and little Anna. Linda would jump up and down when she saw him up walking on his canes, backing up and telling him to keep coming toward her. This was one of the things that even her doctors were now thinking of as residual memories, for that was exactly how she had taught her children to walk. She would get them on their feet, and then keep calling them to come to her. When they got to the point that they could walk a few steps at a time, she would start backing up from them so that they had to work even harder to reach her.

  Robbie could stay on his feet using the canes for several minutes at a time, but the most he had managed so far was less than a half hour. If he needed to move around for longer than 10 or 15 minutes, he needed the wheelchair. That was why he still used it when he went to school.

  They got to the clinic, and Robbie rolled himself inside. Mrs. Lindstrom, the doctor's wife, was also his receptionist, and she looked up and smiled as Robbie entered.

  “Well, well,” she said, “how's Mr. Christopher doing today?”

  “I'm doing pretty good, Mrs. L, how are you?”

  “Oh, I can't complain,” she said, “and if I did, nobody would listen. Ready for your appointment today?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Robbie said. “It seems like I get better every week, every time I come here. I'm all set, and ready. Where's Mr. L?”

  “He's back in the back, getting all set up for you. I've got you checked in, so you can go on back if you want to.”

  Julie waved at Robbie as he rolled into the back, then sat down and picked up a magazine. He heard her talking to Mrs. Lindstrom as he rolled down the hallway, but then their voices faded out. He went into the room where Dr. Lindstrom was waiting, and found the old man sitting on a bench.

  “Hey, Dr. L,” Robbi
e said. “Ready for me today?”

  “Why, I sure am,” the doctor said. “Why don't you park that little hot rod of yours over by the parallel bars, and get up out of it. We're going to try something a little bit different, today, are you ready?”

  Robbie locked his brakes at the end of the parallel bars, then reached up and pulled on them to help them get to his feet. He walked along them just a bit, then turned and leaned his back against one of them while he looked at the doctor. “Doc, I'm ready for anything you want to throw at me,” Robbie said. “It seems like everything we do is moving me a little further along the way.”

  Dr. Lindstrom chuckled, and gave him a thumbs up. “Well, and that's the idea, isn't it?”

  Robbie laughed. “Okay, Doc, what we got? Are you going to have me climbing rock walls yet?”

  “No, not quite,” Dr. Lindstrom said. “However, you might be wishing it was that simple in just a bit. Here's what I'm thinking. What I want you to do today is hop like a bunny rabbit. You can hold onto the bars, but I want you to hop from one end to the other on one leg at a time. Start out at this end on your right leg, hop to the other end and then turn around and come back on your left leg.”

  Robbie stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and smiled. “You're the doctor,” he said, and then he turned and faced the other end of the bars. “Here comes Robbie cottontail,” he muttered in tune to the old children's song, “hopping down the bunny trail, hippity hoppity Robbie's on his way!” He made it to the other end, but then had to stand and rest for a moment before coming back on the other leg.

  When he got back to where he had started, he turned around and prepared to go back again, but Dr. Lindstrom told him to wait. “How did your legs feel?” The doctor asked him, and Robbie stood there, braced on the bars, and looked down at his legs.

  “They hurt,” Robbie said. “Right now, my thighs feel like they're on fire.”

  Dr. Lindstrom nodded. “Okay, then go ahead and do it again.”

  Robbie rolled his eyes and shook his head, then picked up his left leg and started hopping on his right. He hopped all the way to the other end of the bars, but this time he didn't stop to rest before turning around and coming back. He hopped back to the beginning, and since the doctor didn't say anything to the contrary, he turned and started off again. By the time he had made the circuit for the third time, his legs were screaming at him that they wanted him to sit down and stop this exercise foolishness!

  “Hey, Doc, can I take a break? This is really starting to burn in my thighs, now.”

  “Sure, sit down. I don't want you to do it, I just want you to work those muscles. That's the whole point of physical therapy, to get those muscles working again. Once they know that they can work, they’re a lot more willing to do so. We’ve just got to teach them who's the boss, and in this case, it's your brain. The brain tells your muscles what to do, and they move the bones, so that the body gets up and dances around the way it's supposed to.” The doctor stood up and began doing his impression of the twist. “And the backbone's connected to the thigh bone, and thigh bone's connected to the knee bone, and the knee bone's connected to the shinbone, and the muscles make them all do their thing. That's why we have to make sure they know that the brain is who tells the muscles what to do.”

  Robbie grinned at the doctor’s antics, as he sat and rested on his wheelchair for a few minutes. A part of him didn't want to take a break at all, but when the acid was burning so badly in his thighs that he just about wanted to cry, he had to sit down and let the burn start to fade. He knew it wouldn't take very long, and he was right. After five minutes, he was ready to get up and go again. Sure, there was still a bit of the burn in his legs, but the one thing he knew for sure was that you couldn't let pain stop you from doing what you had to do. If you did, then something would be hurting all the time, and life would just pass you by.

  Another hopping pass down the bars, and then he turned and hopped his way back to where he'd begun once again. As silly as it seemed, Robbie could actually see the benefit of this exercise, and a little part of him was actually having fun while he was doing it. The thought crossed his mind that Linda would be hopping with him if she were there, and it made him giggle. He thought he might want to bring her along on one of his sessions, just to see how she reacted to some of the things the doctor had him do.

  Hippity hop, hippity hop, back and forth down the bars. He stopped after every third pass and sat down for a few minutes, but Dr. Lindstrom seemed quite pleased with his progress.

  “Robbie,” the doctor said, “there are many things that your physical therapist can do for you, to help you to get back on your feet. There is one thing, however, that he cannot do, and that is give you the determination and the motivation to keep going even when it hurts. You are an amazing young man; many of my patients who are young like you simply don't have that determination inside them. Their parents come with them, and push them, push them to get them to try, but if they don't have that fire, that desire to regain the control over their body that you want so badly, then there's absolutely nothing that anyone else can do to give it to them. I can't tell you how pleased I am that you have the willingness to keep going.”

  Robbie was taking one of his breaks, and sitting on his wheelchair when the doctor spoke this little soliloquy, and he smiled grimly at the older man. “Well, Doc, let me tell you something,” he said. “That accident took a lot from me. It took my father, and it took my mother, or at least the part of her that made her my mother. It took away a lot of my childhood, and a lot of my little sister's childhood, as well. It took away all of my friends, because I had to move away. It took away the future I had planned out in front of me. But most of all, it took away my ability to walk, to run, to ride my motorcycle, to do all the things that I had loved to do. All of them involved using my legs, all of them involved putting my feet to work, and that accident took that away from me. Now, I could sit back and moan and groan and complain about it, try to get people to feel sorry for me, heck, I could even sit around and feel sorry for myself. But you and me, we both know that would never get me back up on my feet. Complaining of feeling sorry for myself will never help me to walk again, and it will never give me back the chance to control my life, my future, the way I want to. The only thing that can do that is to follow your instructions, and work with Dr. Marshall and the other surgeons, until they get everything working properly so that I don't need to be coming here every week, anymore. Now, if that's what you call determination, then I've got it by the truckload.” He got back up on his feet between the bars, and lifted his left leg so that he could begin hopping his way down them again, but then he turned and looked back at the doctor. “And by the way, just thought I'd let you know—I've decided that, once I've got my legs back, I'm going to school to be a physical therapist. I want to do for other people the things that you are doing for me.” He started hopping, and didn't stop until he had made three circuits.

  By the time the session ended, Robbie was exhausted and almost soaked in sweat. He had made 60 complete circuits of the bars, 30 on one leg and 30 on the other. He felt proud of himself, and not just because he hadn't given up. Robbie was proud of the fact that he had done what the doctor asked of him, that he hadn't even tried to get out of it. He knew that he had every right to be proud of himself, and so he was smiling when he came back out into the lobby where Julie was waiting.

  Her eyes got a little wide when she saw that his hair was plastered down across his forehead, and she could tell that his shirt and sweatpants were damp. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he'd been working hard and sweating, but then, she knew Robbie well enough that it didn't surprise her a bit. She smiled when she remembered how she'd first gotten to know him, and how attracted they had been to each other. Now, with her at 20 and him at 15, they still enjoyed an occasional make-out session.

  “Well, it looks like somebody has had a workout. I'm just curious, what did the other guy look like?”

/>   Robbie smiled. It was an old joke, one that he had actually taught to her, but he still thought it was funny. “He was old and skinny, but I whipped him anyway,” he said. They both chuckled, and she got to her feet as he went to Mrs. Lindstrom to make sure of his next appointment.

  They were in the car a few minutes later, and Robbie leaned back in the seat. He had admitted that he was in pain, but she knew him well enough not to be overly sympathetic. He didn't want sympathy, he wanted encouragement, so that's what she tried to give him. She smiled at him, and leaned over to steal a kiss, grinning when she felt his hand slip under her shirt.

  “So, this new exercise really takes a toll on you, right? Got you all worn out?”

  “Let's just say it definitely puts the whammy on my thighs,” he said. “I'll tell you what, I haven't felt muscle burn like this since coach made us run circuits on the football field. It really does work the muscles, I'll say that.”

  Julie smiled. “Well, okay,” she said. “Then I guess you wouldn't feel like going out for dinner tonight? Your Aunt Kay called while we were at the clinic, and said she'd like us to meet her and the girls over at Joey's Steakhouse. You feel up for it?”

  Robbie looked at her and his eyes grew wide. “I'm all sweaty,” he said. “Can we run by the house so I can change and take a quick shower?”

  “I told her that's what you would say,” Julie said, nodding her head. “She said that would be fine, she had to run a couple of errands before she went to the restaurant, anyway. I'm not exactly dressed for going out, myself, so I'll run and change while you take your shower.”

  She drove up to the house, and got out the wheelchair for him quickly. He swung himself out of the car and into the chair, then rolled up the ramp and into the house. He went into his room and got some clean clothes, then went to his bathroom. Once he’d begun getting some control of his legs back, he didn't like sitting down in the bathtub so much, so he talked his aunt into buying him a shower seat. He rolled up to the tub, then locked the brakes and managed to stand up and step over the side of the tub to get onto his shower seat. A moment later, he had the shower water set just right.