Chapter 30 – Greyson
“Okay, push up on my arm.” A grunt leaves me as I follow Abby's instructions. “Okay, now push down.” I do, and it’s a humbling experience. “You have more strength with the downward motion, so we’re going to start with pulling.”
I watch as she walks across the room and grabs a resistance band. “Stand up, please.” Motioning for me to join her where she’s standing, she wraps the resistance band around a hook attached to the wall. “We’re going to start with rows. Assuming you did your stretches before coming in here.” Her eyebrow raised in question.
“Yes, I did my stretches, Ms. Knight. How many?”
“Three sets of eight.” I slowly begin by retracting my shoulder and then pulling the resistance band toward my body, not stopping until my wrist is parallel to my hip bone. It’s a movement I’ve done thousands of times, but it’s never felt like this. It’s uncomfortable, and my shoulder feels unstable, as if it could pop out of its socket at any moment. By the time I’m done with the first set, I’m sweating. I drop the band and look at Abby, expecting a pitying look; her professional smile catches me off guard.
“You have good control of your traps and your lats on that side. It’ll make your healing process a bit easier.” I, too, smile at the revelation.
“I need your help, Abby.”
“Is that not what I’m doing right now?” When I look down at the floor, she connects the dots.
“Listen, I’m not going to pretend I didn ’t mess up; I did. I own it. And I want to fix it. I saw her before coming here. I ran into her at the lighthouse; I couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know. Why? I don’t know. I clammed up.” The look on Abby’s face makes my heart race like I’ve doomed myself to exile.
She studies me for a second, and I think she’s going to tell me tough luck and let me figure it out myself. I deserve that for how I treated her best friend. Her shoulders sag as a slow breath passes through her lips before she steps in front of me, so I have no choice but to meet her gaze.
“I’ll tell you what, because you were such a good sport during dance class the other night, I’ll help you out. Well that, and because I think the two of you are good for each other.” She shrugs as she hands me a heavier resistance band.
I eye it like it personally offends me, which it does because, holy moly, this is hard. “What do I need this for?” Seeing just how closely she’s going to keep watch on my training program.
“You need it to row your other two sets. That was too easy.” Physical Therapist says what now? “Get to steppin, Wilder.” Her arms crossed at her chest, a bored look plastered on her face.
“In what world would you consider that easy?” Truthfully, I’m grateful for the push; it helps me not only physically but mentally, too.
Before I’m done with my last set, Reed barrels into the room, yelling, “Put me in, coach!”
I smack my hand over my eyes and slowly drag it down my face, dramatically pulling at my skin as I go. My attempt to be overly exasperated is met with a devious chuckle and a strong hand on my good shoulder. “How are you feeling today, Wilder?” Reed’s hair is pulled into a bun at the base of his neck; his face has a bit more stubble than normal, he looks tired.
“I’m alright. Just working through it day by day. How are you? You look tired.”
“Are you saying I look like crap, man?” He puts his arm around my neck, faking a headlock as he messes up my hair.
––––––––
A groan leaves my mouth as my head falls back once he releases me. “Well, well, well, what can we do to help?” Samuels asks; he’s taken his place on Abby’s desk chair, arms behind his head as he leans back, swiveling side to side.
“I don’t know. I think I have an idea. I like the line dance idea, but I think I need something even bigger. More personal.”
“Line dance? What the heck is a line dance?” He’s now spinning the chair in a circle like a 5-year-old, staring up at the ceiling.
“Oh, speaking of! Hell or High Water came out today!” WHAM! Like a freaking freight train.
Holy crap. “I gotta go. See you Thursday, Abby!” I call over my shoulder as I jog out of the physical therapy office.
“Wait, where are you going? I haven’t told you my new and improved plan yet!” Abby yells down the hallway. I just wave over my head and keep moving toward my car. I know what I need to do right now: a quick pit stop at the bookstore before I run home, grab my computer, and start looking for all of Hannah’s favorite things. Ahh, yes, the ideas are picking up from where I left off before I left for Washington.
The next morning, I find myself knocking on Hannah’s door. Harley immediately starts barking. It’s time to put my money where my mouth is. Knowing she needs time to process, I drop the bag on the ground outside her door. Attached to the bag is a note that, hopefully, will put a smile on her face.
My heart takes flight as I walk away; this is only step one in operation: “Get My Girl.” But, one step is better than no steps as Dr. Williams likes to remind me. I was the hide-and-seek champion growing up. One time, my parents thought I had left the house because I had hid so well and stayed so quiet for hours. The patience I learned then is going to help me tenfold now.