Page 63 of Sparking Sara

“It’s okay,” Donovan says. “Your arms are weak. We’ll do exercises for that. How about your left hand, can you paint with your left hand?”

She puts the brush in her left hand and makes a circle, only this one looks more like an oval on one side and a square on the other.

I reach over and grab a brush and dip it in the paint, making a circle next to hers. “Look, the one you did with your left hand is still better than the one I did with my right.” Then I make an X over mine with the paint.

I study the canvas. “I have an idea,” I say. I turn to Donovan while I pull the canvas onto my lap. “Do you mind?”

“Go right ahead.”

I dip my brush in some more paint and glide it across the canvas several times. Then I turn it around and show it to Sara. “Do you know how to play Tic-Tac-Toe?”

She smiles and picks up her brush. “I’m Xs,” she says, smiling.

“Thisgame,” I say. “Next game,I’mXs.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Donovan looking pleased. I’m glad he approves. This is something Sara and I can do together even when he’s not around. And if he thinks it’s good therapy, all the better. I have a feeling I’ll have to invest in a lot more canvases. But whatever it takes to help her in her recovery.

An hour later, it’s time for Donovan to leave.

“You’re brilliant,” Donovan says, pulling me aside in the hallway. “Bringing the paints was exactly what she needed. I’m not sure why nobody else thought of it. It’s the perfect therapy for her. She’s made more progress in the last hour than she made all day yesterday. And she recognizes sarcasm—that’s a very good indicator of her mental progress.”

“Do you think she’ll start talking more?” I ask.

He nods. “She’ll talk when she’s ready. She’s perfectly capable of it. I just think she doesn’t have much to say yet. It’ll come.”

“See you later?” I ask as he walks away.

“If you’re still here after lunch, you can help me get her walking. Somehow, I think she’ll do much better today.” He winks at me before he goes around the corner.

Why would she do better today? Maybe because she’s in a good mood after painting.

Sara looks tired when I go back into her room. “You did great, champ. You’ve impressed Donovan, and I get the feeling it takes a lot to impress him.”

She smiles.

Then she looks down at the ring that’s still on her left hand.

“How did you get in?” she asks, nodding to the paint supplies we stacked in the corner.

“To your apartment?” I ask.

She nods.

“Oliver let me in. We had cappuccino.”

“He has a key?” she asks.

I scrub my hand across my jaw. “He didn’t tell you?”

She just looks at me, waiting.

“Sara, you and Oliver share an apartment. You live together.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. I take it this is not good news to her.

“Listen,” I say, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Nobody says you have to jump right back into anything you’re not comfortable with. And you have time. You’ll be here for a while. That will give you a chance to get to know him again. Oh, my gosh, Sara, the things you two did together. He should be the one to tell you, but you’ve been all over the world. You’ve seen incredible sights. Done incredible things. He has photographs and souvenirs. Just wait until you hear about all of it.”

She turns her head and stares at the wall. I can tell she’s worn out. I pick up our book off her side table and read to her as she rests. I read until another therapist comes into the room. He exercises her arms and legs, telling us how important it is to keep her muscle tone. Then, with my help, he sits her in a chair for an hour, during which the cognitive therapist and then the speech therapist both have their turns with her.

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