Chapter 29
Linney woke the next morning feeling rested. She was a bit nervous about the shower, but she saw that someone—Danny, she guessed—had installed a grab bar for her. She dressed and started reading the news on her iPad when she heard a car in her driveway. She made her way to the porch and broke into a huge smile when she saw Anna walking up holding what looked like two takeout cups of coffee and some kind of home-made treat.
“I can smell that from here,” Linney shouted. “I love your baking.”
They sat at the kitchen table and after Linney thanked Anna for stocking her cupboards, they made small talk as they dug into the strudel. Anna’s daughters were both in high school now, so there were many stories to tell.
“They’re totally boy crazy,” Anna said.
“Do you remember our first dance?”
“It was Halloween, right?”
“Yep. You were a ballerina—as usual—and Kirsten dressed up as a clown.”
“And you were—oh my gosh, you were Amelia Earhart! You were an adventurer even back then.” Anna’s memories came rushing back. “I had my first kiss that night. Oh—and your crush kissed someone else.” Linney nodded. It was so long ago. “Didn’t Derek spend the rest of the night cheering you up?”
“He did. Even then, he was rescuing me.”
“What’s next for you?” Anna asked, after a few moments.
“I’m not sure,” Linney said honestly. “The next month or two are just about getting better. I haven’t thought beyond that.” She put her fork down. “But I’m not going back to London. I know that for sure. My nieces and nephew are growing up too fast—and your kids too. I hardly know any of them. I think the explosion …” Anna tried not to react to that word, but it was hard. “… the explosion taught me a bit about my own mortality. I suddenly feel the need to be close to family and friends.”
Anna reached out across the table. “Well, we’re glad you’re back.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Linney, we were so worried.”
“Don’t get all maudlin on me. I can’t stand those pitying looks people give me and I’m tired of having to tell people I’m fine. Now,” she said firmly, getting to her feet and reaching for her cane, “with all this travelling, I’ve been sitting too much. Will you walk around the property with me? It will be slow, but I’d still like it if you’d walk with me.
Linney took the porch stairs one at a time, with both feet on each step before tackling the next one like her grandmother had in her last years. It drove her crazy, but for once in her life, she was determined to follow the rules to the letter and her rehab team had told her that it would be up to her doctor at home. It was top of her list to ask about tomorrow. Until then, it was one step at a time. She didn’t want to do anything that would make her recovery harder or longer.
They walked slowly around Linney’s property. Up the side she shared with Derek, across the front by the road, down the other side where the creek ran and across the shoreline of the lake. It wouldn’t be long before the trees were ablaze in colour. This was the first time Linney was walking on rough terrain and it was decidedly more difficult than the flat paths around the gardens she was used to or the long airport halls. It was humbling to be so tired when they stopped at the dock. She looked longingly out over the lake, wondering when she’d be able to get herself into her kayak again.
“Thanks for coming, Anna.” Linney put on her game face, refusing to feel sorry for herself.
“You’ll call me, or text if you need anything, right? I know you hate to lean on people, but now is the time. You can pay me back by rescuing me from my teenagers when you’re feeling stronger.”
Linney threw her head back and laughed heartily. “It’s a deal,” she agreed.
After Anna left, Linney went back to her online news and then puttered in the kitchen, making some soup and toast for lunch. She napped on the couch for a couple of hours and then did the exercises Ilse had drilled into her. Stretching her muscles felt good.
Linney poured herself a glass of water and took stock properly of the contents of her kitchen cabinets. She took out a bag of chocolate chips to make cookies. She beat together the butter and sugar and added eggs. Soon the other ingredients were added and she shaped small cookies and put the cookie sheet into the oven. The timer beeped ten minutes later. Linney’s glasses fogged annoyingly when she opened the oven door and her stomach grumbled. Easing the cookies off the pan and placing them on the rack to cool, she grabbed one for herself and groaned with delight over the melted chocolate goodness. Linney found a tin to put the cooled treats in and waited. Soon, she heard the school bus, and saw two children wearing backpacks that looked bigger than them jump out and run next door. She picked up her cookie tin and her cane and slowly made her way across the lawn.
* * *
Derek hada lunch box in his hand and a look of surprise on his face when he answered the door.
“Linney?”
“Are you going to let me in?” She lifted the tin slightly. “I made cookies.”
Derek pulled the door open. “Of course. Come in. Just watch out for the kids.” He heard the water turn off in the bathroom and the laughter of the children. “Leo, Ivy, come see your Auntie Linney.” They came barrelling out to join them, and despite all his warnings, threw themselves at her.
“Oohh!” Linney wasn’t prepared for that, and stumbled into Derek.
“Kids,” he reprimanded sharply, as he helped steady Linney on her feet. “We have to be gentle with Auntie Linney for a bit, remember?”
“Are you okay, Auntie Linney?” asked Leo repentantly.
“I’m just fine, Leo,” she replied brightly for the kids. But Derek could see through it and knew her confidence was shaken. “I brought you something. Maybe your dad will let you have it for your after-school snack.” Linney sat down at the breakfast bar and gestured for them to join her. The kindergarteners scrambled up onto the high stools and she opened the tin.
“Cookies!” exclaimed Ivy, bouncing with excitement. “Daddy, can we?”
“Yes you may,” he replied, emphasizing the grammar point and opening the fridge for some milk. “You’ll spoil them, Linney. Home baking is pretty rare around here.” He wiped out the lunch boxes and put reusable juice boxes in the dishwasher.
Linney listened as Leo and Ivy chattered away about their days. She nibbled on another cookie and Derek put a glass of milk in front of her with a wink. How many times had they had cookies and milk together after school, she wondered, remembering years gone by.
The kids slid off their stools to go and play.
“I’ll let you get on with your evening,” she said to Derek.
“Thank you for the cookies,” said Ivy shyly.
“You’re welcome, Ivy. We’ll do it again soon, okay?” She started toward the front door and banged into the corner of a book shelf with her shoulder. “Ouch!”
Derek was at her side immediately. She shrugged him off and rubbed her shoulder. “I have to get used to this. I’ll see you tomorrow, Derek.”
* * *
Linney was moreupset than she’d let on. As she made her way slowly across the lawn all she could think about was how she’d turned back into the awkward, klutzy kid she’d been. The capable and independent woman with a successful career had disappeared. She felt fragile and her body still didn’t feel like her own. She was still frustrated as she climbed up the stairs to her porch. She wasn’t paying enough attention and caught her foot on the lip of the top step and had to catch herself from falling. Her humiliation was complete when she closed the door behind her and smashed her shin on the coffee table. Linney collapsed on the couch and sobbed as the loss of everything—her career, her flat in London, her independence, her lover—overwhelmed her. She cried and cried until there were no more tears left and she fell asleep.
When she woke, it was dark, and she was hungry. Checking her watch, Linney was surprised to discover it was almost midnight. She was stiff from sleeping on the couch for almost seven hours. Stretching, Linney picked up her cane and found leftover salad from the previous night in the fridge. She picked at it, leaning on the counter and then polished off two pieces of toast before peeling an orange. Hunger sated, but still sleepy, she lay down in bed and quickly fell back to sleep.
Linney was still feeling sorry for herself the next morning. Bruises were forming on her shoulder and shin, and her hip ached from the challenge of walking on uneven ground. She headed for the kitchen. Maybe coffee would shake this mood.
* * *
Derek noticedthe kitchen lights on next door as he waited at the end of the driveway with the kids. When the school bus pulled away, he decided to check in on Linney rather than go back home right away. He jumped up the few steps to the porch and was just about to knock on the door when he heard the sound of shattering china.
“Linney, are you alright?” He was alarmed and knocked loudly.
“Go away, Derek.”
“Linney, what’s going on? Let me in.” Derek banged on the door again.
“Go away,” she repeated, sounding upset.
“I heard something break. I’m worried about you.”
“Go away, Derek. I’m serious.”
Derek wasn’t going anywhere. This was what he’d promised Jake. That he’d take care of her even when she pushed him away. The door wasn’t locked, so he turned the handle and pushed it open. Linney stood in the kitchen with her cane and still in her pajamas, with tears sliding down her cheeks again. He came toward her to see what had happened. In the kitchen, he found the carafe on the counter, sitting in a pool of spilled coffee that was dripping onto the floor, a shattered mug by the opposite wall and what looked like a coffee explosion. “What happened?”
“I’m fine.” Linney took off her glasses and swiped at the tears. She put them back on and wanted to scream when she saw the look of pity in his eyes.
Derek shook his head. “You’re not fine. Not yet.” He spoke sharply, to make the point and Linney felt her anger continue to rise. “You’ll be fine again, I promise. But you need to learn to accept some help—at least for now.”
“Derek.”
“Linney, you were my lifeline after Olivia left. Let me help you now.” She sighed with exasperation, but sat down. Derek knew a victory when he saw one. He grabbed a tea towel and started mopping up the mess. “What happened?” he asked again, gently now.
She sniffed. “I missed when I tried to pour the coffee. Depth perception. I keep forgetting.” She hung her head.
“And the mug?” Derek gestured at the shards of china on the other side of the room.
Linney looked up at him sheepishly. “I got frustrated.” They looked at each other, and burst out laughing.
* * *
Linney helpedDerek clean up the mess, feeling lighter now. They talked for a while and then he headed into town to run an errand, returning early in the afternoon to take her to the hospital to meet with her new specialists.
Linney was nervous, but excited to meet her new team. She fiddled with the strap on her purse as Derek parked the car. He’d wanted to drop her at the door and then park the car, but she insisted she could walk the short distance. Slowly, they made their way in and Linney filled out a figurative tonne of paperwork while Derek texted Kirsten to let her know they’d arrived.
The orthopedic specialist was pleased with Linney’s progress. What he saw in her charts convinced him that as long as she kept doing her physiotherapy, she’d be able to throw away the cane in no time. He thought she could be driving in four to six weeks, assuming her vision tests came back within an appropriate range. The most immediate thing was that he green-lit the return to walking up and down stairs normally. There was a knock on the door and Kirsten joined them, giving Linney a hug and the doctor a warm smile. The doctor picked up a list of physiotherapists from his desk and Kirsten reached out her hand and quickly scanned the list, nodding positively.
“There are some solid names here, Linney. Not just here, but in Bridgegrove too. I’ll help you find someone who’s a good fit, someone who will come to the house and push you just the right amount.”
Linney smiled wryly, remembering her love-hate relationship with Ilse. She thanked the doctor for his time, and the two women left together and rejoined Derek. Kirsten helped them find the ophthalmologist in the maze of hospital corridors.
“It’s silly for you both to be here waiting with me,” said Linney, while they sat. “I can do this on my own, you know. I just need a ride when I’m done.”
Kirsten nodded her head. “Derek, why don’t you head home. I’ll see Linney through her other appointments, and I can get her home. I was going to go over tonight anyway. This will give us a chance to catch up properly.”
“Are you sure?”
“As long as Linney agrees.”
Linney nodded vigorously. “You’re doing so much for me already, Derek. I’ll talk to you later tonight.”
Kirsten stayed with Linney while the ophthalmologist looked at her eye and then pored over her records, hoping to give Linney better news than she had received to date. Finally, he shook his head.
“I wish I had better news for you. Unfortunately, your doctor in Germany was right. The nerve damage is severe, and from what I can see, permanent.” Linney nodded. She hadn’t seen any change since she’d woken up that awful day in Germany, so this news wasn’t unexpected. “But it’s not all bad,” the doctor continued. “Plenty of people live full, normal lives with monocular vision. Here’s a list of therapists who can help with that. We just need to retrain your brain a bit.” Kirsten scanned. She had less experience with the names on this list, but she still recognized several.
“What about driving?” Linney asked. This was the one thing that could cause a problem if she planned to stay in Silver Lake.
“Absolutely,” he assured her. “As long as you have a normal field of vision, it won’t be an issue. We can test in a month, but I see nothing in your charts that would suggest there will be any problems. And then you’ll just need to retake your test.”
Linney breathed a sigh of relief. This was good news.
The women walked to Linney’s third and final appointment of the day. A psychiatrist. Linney bristled at this appointment. She’d always been able to deal with problems in her life and she didn’t love the idea of accepting this kind of help. Kirsten was kind but firm. “You know, it’s just as important to look after your mental health as your physical health, Linney.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…”
“Don’t knock therapy, Linney. Give it a fair shake. It’s helped me in the past, and you’ve been through something pretty traumatic.” Linney raised her eyebrows at this revelation, but Kirsten ignored it and continued. “Dr. Aslan has a good reputation. I’m going to leave you and I’ll be back in an hour and then we can figure out what to do next.”
“Thanks. I seem to be saying that a lot these day. But I really will try to have an open mind about therapy. There was someone in Germany and TCN would have insisted on me seeing someone if I had come back from an assignment. Mac still sees someone. I just never expected I would need it.”
Linney’s appointment with Dr. Aslan was a pleasant surprise. She hadn’t expected the therapist to be her age. She seemed friendly and had a faint accent that Linney couldn’t place. Dr. Aslan took the time to explain her approach and together they set up a schedule of weekly appointments through the end of the year.
“I think I’ll like her,” Linney told Kirsten. “I wasn’t expecting to.”
“I told you. Dr. Aslan has been in Silver Lake for a couple of years now and she’s built a great reputation. Now, I’m taking you out to dinner.”
Linney didn’t dissuade her. It had been a long afternoon, and she didn’t feel like cooking. While they waited for their order to arrive, they talked with a number of townspeople who stopped by to welcome Linney home and offer their help if she needed anything. She smiled and thanked them, but was determined to be as self-sufficient as possible.
Over pizza and iced tea—she didn’t want to drink while she was still on painkillers—Linney and Kirsten discussed the team who would be helping her. Kirsten talked about the various physiotherapists and agreed to call a couple in the morning to test how they’d work together. “Combined with the others, you’ll have a crack team,” Kirsten said. “You’re in good hands, Linney.”