Page 28 of Prospect Year

As he walked toward the house, he couldn’t help but listen to the smooth voice behind him as she asked Mia if she wanted to work there or go inside. Her voice faded and silence followed him through the door. He stopped at the window watching the therapist settle into the seat he had just abandoned.

“I saw. She looked like she won the lottery,” Amber commented.

Lola glanced toward Amber sitting at the table with a book in hand. “Tell me about this therapist.”

“Not much to tell.” Amber raised her shoulder, looking over the pages. “She comes in twice a week, and they go off by themselves for an hour or so learning sign language and some sort of throat muscle exercises from what I understand.”

“Every week, huh?” he repeated, staring through the window.

“Why would she need to know sign language?” Amber dropped the book to her lap. “Won’t she be able to talk again after her surgery?”

“Don’t know. I don’t think she knows either,” he answered.

“Hmm,” was Amber’s only response.

Lola remained at the window. He tilted his head studying Mia. She was her normal ball of sunshine, smiling and eager to learn. He watched as she focused on Heather’s motions and intimidated them time and time again. Then without realizing it, his focus had shifted fully to Heather. She appeared to be confident and caring, and her eyes seemed to glow when she laughed along with Mia.

He turned and joined Amber at the table. “What are you studying now?”

“Social studies.”

“How’s that going?”

Amber closed the book and placed it on the table. “Not bad. I’m rereading this and hopefully can schedule my exam soon.”

“You’ve crammed a lot of learning into a few months. You should be ready.”

She laughed. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but study. I look at it this way, though. If I fail, then I can retake it later. Plus, I’ll know more of what to expect and can focus on those things.”

“Good thinking. But you’ll pass it,” he assured her pushing to his feet.

“Want a drink?”

“No thanks.”

He strolled to the fridge grabbing a drink. Turning back, he paused and leaned his butt onto the island countertop where he could see Mia and Heather still outside. Three women so different from each other, yet they all could easily be a distraction. He glanced toward Amber. She could be a time bomb. He didn’t know from day to day which version of her she put forth. And Mia. He swung his head back toward the window. Mia was the same every day. No matter the complications or bumps that arose, she was happy. Quiet, but no doubt thankful for each day. What was Heather like? Easy going? A stickler for schedules and order? He planned to find out just that.

He checked the time and pushed from the countertop and headed toward the driveway. He fumbled around his bike until the front door opened and Heather appeared.

“State of mind is important to the healing process. And that small gesture from you did wonders for Mia,” she told Lola as she passed him walking toward her car.

“I did nothing,” he said stopping her in her tracks.

Heather turned to face him. “It was more than you intended maybe, but it was not nothing.”

“Glad to hear I helped somehow.” He fell into step with her following her the remainder of the way to her car. “You headed out to another patient?”

“Not for another hour.”

“Would you be up to coffee and a little conversation?”

Heather smiled with a soft nod. “I can do that.”

“Great. You can follow me. I know the perfect place.”

Lola closed Heather’s door and jogged to his bike, throwing a leg over his seat and rode out.

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