Page 52 of The Road Ahead
I took the flowers from Brad’s dad as Cooper held the door open for Brad, and we walked alongside as he slowly made his way to the truck. Once I’d helped him into the front passenger seat, I jumped into the back of the truck and Cooper headed for the hospital.
“When do you start work?” Brad asked over his shoulder.
“In two weeks,” I replied. “Ahmed is advertising the classes for me and we figured that will be enough time to drum up some interest.”
“Cool. How many are you gonna be running?”
“Three different classes, each twice a week, and then I’ll be offering one-on-one self-defense training as well.”
Brad twisted around once more. “Three classes? Will they be different skill levels or something?”
“No, all different,” I explained. “One will be basic self-defense. The second is an introduction to Krav Maga, which is the discipline I’m most experienced in. And when Ahmed and I were chatting, and I told him how I love to dance, he convinced me to do a dance fitness class. He used to have an instructor who ran them, but she moved away and there were a lot of disappointed clients.”
“Wow. You’re gonna be busy,” Brad said.
I grinned happily. “Ahmed said I can help him with some bookwork for the gym as well, so I’ll have almost full-time hours.” I was so excited to get started. I missed the circle of friends I’d made back in Georgia that I’d met through my classes. It had been a real community, and I was hoping I’d beable to find that in Stony Creek as well. I had Cooper, Teresa, my aunt and uncle, and even the start of a friendship with Brad, but I was a social butterfly. I thrived amongst a large group of friends and acquaintances, and I was eager to make connections. So far the only person I'd really spoken to outside of my circle was a therapist who I was talking to about the accident, and that wasn’t exactly social.
Brad asked us if we could stop by the local coffee shop to get Teresa an iced coffee, and a few minutes later, Cooper was pulling into the visitor parking lot of the hospital. We headed inside, and as was the case whenever we’d been here, Cooper was stopped by almost every staff member we passed for a quick chat. He had a bag over his shoulder, and I knew it was packed to the brim with books and balloons. After we’d visited with Teresa, we were heading to the children’s ward and he was going to give the kids—and me—a lesson in making balloon animals.
I wanted another penguin.
Emmett was sitting in the single chair by the bed when we arrived, and he was reading aloud to Teresa from a well-loved paperback. Although all of the cognitive tests had shown no signs of major brain injury, Teresa was suffering from some of the common side effects of being resuscitated—some short-term memory loss, trouble concentrating, sensitivity to bright lights, and some speech issues. Combined with three broken ribs and a broken sternum, her recovery would take a while.
“Hey,” Teresa said as we entered, her entire face lighting up when she saw us.
“Hey, Terry,” Brad said, hobbling over to the bed to give her a kiss. “How’re you feeling?”
Emmett got up from the chair and offered it to Brad, who gratefully sat, and Cooper and I gathered on the other side of the bed.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Tired. Sore.”
“She was with physio this morning,” Emmett explained.
“Ouch,” Cooper sympathized. “Is it Julie?”
Teresa nodded.
“She’s a hard taskmaster,” Cooper said. “But she’s the best at what she does. She’ll have you heading home in no time.”
“All going well, she’ll be released in a few days,” Emmett said.
“That’s awesome!” I told Teresa, reaching out and squeezing her arm.
“Did Chief Rav . . . Rav . . . ” Teresa squeezed her eyes shut. “Fuck! Did Chief see you?” she managed to get out.
Cooper had explained to me that telegraphic speech was common after accidents like Teresa’s, and it’d be a while before they knew if it would be permanent or not. She’d be undergoing speech therapy to help, but there was no telling if she’d recover completely. Given how frustrating she was finding it, I kept my fingers crossed she would be one of the lucky ones.
“Yeah, he did,” Cooper confirmed. “We’ve got to meet with the State Prosecutor next week to go over our statement with her.” The driver of the Mustang was facing criminal charges for reckless driving, causing injury. Chief Ramirez had told us that if all went well, he’d hopefully face jail time. Since I couldn’t close my eyes at night without hearing the sound of Teresa’s bones breaking as Cooper did compressions, I hoped he’d rot in jail. He deserved it.
We chatted a little more, and then Emmett asked us what our plans were for the weekend.
“I’m not working, so we figured we’d head back to the cabin,” Cooper explained.
My uncle waggled his eyebrows. “Ooh, romantic weekend away!” he exclaimed. I had soon discovered that Emmett was determined to tease us mercilessly at every opportunity. It was wonderful that he supported us, but I was always left mortified. “If this cabin’s a rockin’, don’t come a’knockin’!”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, and covered my flaming cheeks with my hands.
“At least there won’t be anyone else on the other side of those thin walls,” Brad said.
