Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“You feeding the neighbor now too?” His dad had looked up from the list he was jotting down to study him.
“Yup.” Garrick was years beyond apologizing for who he had as a friend, and even if there was the whole age difference thing and the whole shouldn’t-let-Rain-flirt thing, they were making a friendship. His dad could deal. And he knew his dad, knew he didn’t object to Rain as much as the idea of Garrick setting his sights on getting back on the smoke jumping crew.
“Hope you know what you’re doing.” Shaking his head, his dad had headed for the store, leaving Garrick hoping the same.
And now, here he was, one foot in front of the other, still thinking about Rain. Hell, he was almost glad for the distraction, taking his mind off how this wasn’t getting any easier. His balance without the crutches was still unpredictable, going from sort of okay to weaving like he was three sheets to the wind to his ass on the floor, none of those outcomes optimal.
“When do I get new braces?” he asked his physical therapist, Stephanie, an enthusiastic woman around his age with boundless energy who was currently cheering him on, hovering close by. He was ready to try anything that got him moving with a more natural gait and balance.
Glancing away, Stephanie gave a rare frown. “I thought you’d heard. Your insurance denied trying the braces with built-in functional electrical nerve stimulators. The problem is that you’re already ambulatory without the assistance of a neuroprosthesis. Your insurance is balking at covering something new for you at this time.”
“And paying out of pocket is gonna be a no-go?” He’d already paid from his own funds for his bed and other expenditures the insurance didn’t cover, which kept cutting into his reserves.
Confirming his fears, Stephanie quoted an eye-popping sum that didn’t include all the required extra PT for the system to work properly. “Also, your doctors and medical team seem inclined to agree with the insurance that the location of your injury makes any FES system less likely to show significant improvements. Right now, your best bet is to continue this course of therapy. I know you’re frustrated, but the improvements are there. I see a lot more hip and ankle strength from you lately.”
Garrick released a frustrated noise, which made Stephanie frown further. “Sorry. I’m just anxious to get back out there. Doctors all talk about how the spinal cord injury was incomplete, not as serious. I figured getting strength back from the broken bones would be the more important thing. And now I am stronger, but the body’s still not cooperating.”
“I feel you. And all spinal injuries are serious, if you ask me. Also, every person is different in how they respond. It’s all very unpredictable.”
He knew all about unpredictable—two nights ago he’d had vivid erotic dreams about Rain, waking up feeling energized about his chances of getting a sex life back without needing to bring the issue up with his doctor. But then last night, he’d tried indulging in a little self-loving only to get more mixed results. Was there a way to bring up that kind of variability with Stephanie? She was married with three kids and usually unflappable, but before he could wrap his mind around the question, she turned away, pointing at one of the low tables used for various exercises and therapies.
“Now, let’s get you over to the table for some more stretching work.” Handing him his crutches, she led the way, movements easy and efficient but not inviting more discussion either. As he was following her across the wide, open space, he heard his name called.
“Garrick Nelson! Just the man I wanted to run into today.” Fred Adams was a friend of Garrick’s father, had served on a hotshot crew with him back in the day, and now had worked his way up to a high level in the local forest service office. He’d been rehabbing from rotator cuff shoulder surgery, and they’d seen each other a few times at PT now. With a light jacket on and a magazine under his arm, he looked to be finishing up his session.
“Oh?” He got settled on the table, leaving Fred to pull up a nearby chair.
“You go ahead and talk to Mr. Cranky while I get him stretched out,” Stephanie said to Fred. “The distraction will be good for him.”
“Hey, I’m not cranky,” Garrick protested.
“You’re frustrated. And I get it. Now let’s work on those hip flexors.” She started the routine of helping him achieve deep stretches while he tried to give at least some of his attention to Fred.
“You were looking for me?”
“Yes. Look, I know you’re bummed about not jumping this fire season, but I’ve got a proposition for you I think you’ll like.”
“I’m listening.” Bummed was a major understatement, but he wasn’t going to unpack all his feelings with Fred.