Page 39 of Downpour

I was aware. My shoulders ached from getting up into the seat. Truthfully, I felt good this morning. Had Brooke not been around, I would have tried to stand up. But we didn’t have time.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Brooke babbled the entire way into town. She drove the truck like she was driving a bulldozer. We hopped up on nearly every curb and straddled the painted lines.

I didn’t let the air release from my lungs until I spotted the medical complex.

Brooke parked the truck at the back of the lot since she was too scared to try to pull it between other vehicles. Getting down into the wheelchair was easier than getting up into the truck. But because I was a stubborn asshole, I refused to let Brooke push my chair.

That old Sunday school saying about “pride comes before a fall” was fucking true. I was exhausted by the time I made it into the building.

“I’ll be done in an hour,” I said as I pressed the button for the elevator.

Brooke’s eyebrows lifted. “Okay.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

She chewed on her lip. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you?”

The elevator doors opened. “I’m not a child, Brooke. I don’t need a chaperone.”

She nodded. “See you in an hour.”

I rolled into the elevator and watched her dejected face through the slit between the closing doors.

Great. Now I felt like shit.

It wasn’t just her; I didn’t let anyone come to therapy with me. I didn’t have much privacy or agency, but that was one boundary I had put up early.

I had to give it to my therapy team. Maybe they were just used to dealing with jaded assholes, but they were never put off by my rancor.

But they did get their revenge for my attitude by putting me through a gauntlet of exercises.

By the time the hour was up, I was exhausted. Making the trip to the back of the parking lot was a dreadful thought.

Maybe Brooke would be late, and I could catch a cat nap in the lobby.

Nope. She was right on time, sitting in the lobby and chatting up a stranger.

“Hey! All done?” Brooke chirped as she jumped up from the bench. She waved to the old man. “It was so nice talking to you, Robert!”

The old guy beamed like he had just had a conversation with an angel.

“I pulled up to the curb and sweet-talked the tow truck guy out of hauling the truck off,” Brooke said as she handed me a whipped cream covered coffee drink. “And that’s for you.”

I swore under my breath. “Just park next time.”

“I figured you would be tired, and I didn’t think to get the parking tag from your house before we left. I’ll definitely grab it next time so we can park close.”

I didn’t even bother arguing. I just took a sip and didn’t completely hate it.

Actually, it was pretty good.

Brooke looked hopeful. “Well?”

I took another sip. “Well, what?”

“How’d I do with the coffee?”

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