Page 2 of Gift of Hope

We have nice rooms, they’re small yet resemble the interior of an apartment, which makes them homey; it’s not like I can do much in here, otherwise.

My favorite space is the bathroom. The showers are to die for, and because I still require assistance, having the gloriously large space suits me just fine.

Although I’m in a wheelchair, I have high hopes to walk again. Yesterday, I officially waved goodbye to my leg cast, which meant today was supposed to be the first day of nitty-gritty physiotherapy. I managed two different rounds before it all became too overwhelming. I lost sight of the importance of my recovery and was focused more on the effects from the accident.

My car was T-boned at an intersection while I was on my way home after a production. In all cliché scenarios, it was one of the heaviest rainfalls we’d had all winter.

I remember the windscreen being pelted with rain; droplets so thick my view of the road was impaired. I remember the light being green yet slowing down to go through it in case it turned to allow me to stop safely, but as it remained green, I merely kept going—gliding through it.

Everything from that point on happened so fast. The hideously loud smashing of metal-on-metal was the last thing I remember before waking in a hospital bed–pain ridden and nauseous.

Reliving that scene of bright headlights and the loud crash is what keeps me up every night. It’s also the very nightmare that took my dreams away.

I’m lying on my bed—a specially made one similar to hospital beds, but more comfortable—watching some hopeless romance on the television. It gets me thinking, if it can be that easy, then why am I single?

I’m disturbed from my single status by Josey’s loud knocking on the door.

“Hey, again. Are you ready toroll?” she asks me while snickering.

“Are you feeling extrapunnytoday?” I laugh back, trying to imply that her puns are funny.

I may have been in a preoccupied mood earlier, however, being around this girl is a great distraction, and I start forgetting all about my wasted physio appointment earlier this afternoon. Meanwhile, there’s no idle chitchat as we make our way outside, along the paths specifically designed for patients with all needs; there are handrails stationed along the smooth stone pathway that allow anyone with a walking implement or wheelchair to glide along obstacle-free.

Finding our quiet, sheltered spot, I bask in the warmth of the sunlight that’s peeking through the clouds, soaking in as much vitamin D as I can. With the much colder days, it makes for a chilly outing without a little sunshine; especially if you’re not rugged up in a blanket like we are now.

“So, tell me, Eve, what’s gotten you down today? Tell Aunt Josey everything.”

I can’t help but laugh at her theatrics. But the last thing I want is to drag the very reason I’ve come out here up again. So, with a tall spine, and in as minimal pain as possible, I play the martyr and act my ass off.

“Oh, Josey, it’s terrible. You have no idea.” I place the back of my hand against my forehead dramatically. “I still haven’t found my guidance animal yet.”

She lets go of the assumed breath she was holding and folds over in her chair with laughter.

“We need an improv club here. That was brilliant!”

“That was terrible!” I can’t stop the laughter that’s leaving my lips. I have to admit it’s a good release for all the tension I’ve been harboring today.

“Josey, when does it get easier? You’ve been here for what, eight months? When will this sense of emptiness disappear?” She looks at me. Not with your standard ‘I’m looking at you’ kind of glance but stares right into my eyes as if looking straight through me.

“It doesn’t. You learn to live with it, though. You may never feel as if it gets easier, or the past is going to return, but day by day you get a slice of what a new normal is like, and you grasp on to that because otherwise, you’re in your room crying and wishing bad things on the universe. There’s no time for that crap, Eve. No one needs to dwell on what could have been when ultimately, it will never happen.”

As her words sink in, I take in all the beautiful plants in the garden. Some with colors so vibrant they put an instant smile on your face. Others are merely there to make the overall ambiance relaxing.

“Do you know you have wisdom beyond your years?”

“Thank you.” Josey’s gracious acceptance of my compliment speaks volumes, emphasizing what I just said. “So, still no guidance animal, huh? That must suck.”

I give her a gentle backhand to the shoulder. “Don’t tease. Just because Tag found you within the first week.” I exhale a long, slow breath. “This is nice. Thanks for kicking my ass out here. Oh, before I forget. What are you doing for the mid-winter dinner the center is hosting? If you don’t have a date, would you like to get ready with me? I’m going as a party of one. It’d be nice to have someone to hang out with beforehand.” I shrug and leave the ball in Josey’s court. “No big deal. Just an idea.”

I let her think it over for a while before announcing my departure. Often when we come out here, we don’t speak much. We merely sit outside and enjoy the fresh air and silence. It’s a total contrast to what goes on in our heads behind those walls.

“This has beenwheeliefun, Eve. Let’s do it again soon,” Josey yells at my retreating back. I shake my head in silent laughter.

That girl.

Chapter Three

Evelyn

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