Chapter 69

The doctor joked, when he took off my casts, that I'd managed not to do additional damage. I'm sure he thought it was funny. I wonder if Theresa had put him up to it.

Ok, in all fairness, I had more than my share of 'fun' in the past few months. There was this thought in the back of my head, that I'd had my 'fifteen minutes of fame'. It had lasted a lot longer than fifteen minutes, though, and there wasn't any fame in it ... thanks to the FBI.

So it was one of those, 'If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound, ' kind of dilemma's. If no one knew of my fame, did that count as my fifteen minutes?

Obviously, I needed to get a life!

I had started to move my leg when the doctor put his hand on it.

"Don't even think about that. You're far from being done here. Just sit back and relax."

"What now?"

"The nurse will be in shortly to fit you with walking casts."

"Walking casts?"

"You didn't think you were going to dance out of here, did you?"

"Theresa said something about physical therapy. When do I do that?"

"After we get you up, and hopefully on your feet, then we'll send someone in to set up a schedule."

"Schedule?" I asked in dismay. "I was hoping once ... twice, maybe."

The doctor shook his head as he walked out. I think I heard him chuckling.

I'm not sure who created the term 'physical therapy.' It is more like physical torture. The sadistic woman that got hold of me was proof of that.

Everything she did to me hurt like hell.

After lunch, I was at the beginning of a set of 'Parallel Bars' bars on each side of me. My hands held my weight, as my legs shook beneath me. She told me to take a step. I was determined to show her.

One step, and my knees collapsed. My hands slipped, and the bars caught me in my underarms. I screamed in pain.

Her response?

"Let me help you up, so we can try that again."

'We?' I thought. 'She didn't do a damned thing.'

Then next conversation motivated me more than anything else.

"Theresa told me you have a thing for her daughter."

I turned and looked at the woman.

"It's more than 'a thing.' I love her more than any words can describe."

There was an appraising look, and then she said, "Get on your feet, and let's get you walking. She doesn't need to baby sit you."

I grabbed hold of the bars, and pulled myself up. This time, I put my better leg forward. I also spent more time releasing my hand hold. One step.

The second step had me tearing up from the pain.

The third was better. Rationally I could understand that the leg with full cast would be worse. Emotionally, I didn't like it one bit.

I was halfway down the row, after spending ten minutes getting that far, when I heard a familiar voice.

"I didn't think he'd be walking yet."

"Motivation. Thanks for telling me about your daughter."

I yelled across the room, "Theresa, thanks for sending me to the devil!"

"Keep at it, lover boy," the physical therapist retorted. Then I heard her tell Theresa, "Expect him to be sore all evening. He will need a rubdown tonight so his muscles don't cramp up."

Jessica was ecstatic when we got home. I was still in a wheel chair, but my leg wasn't sticking straight out and I didn't have those heavy plaster casts on. The velcroed hinged supports were a vast difference.

I, on the other hand, was a complete contrast. It was hard for me to keep my eyes open. I was utterly exhausted.

As she bounced around the room, I smiled.

I opened my eyes when Jessica shook my shoulder.

"John, you fell asleep."

"Sorry."

"Mom told me what they put you through. I understand." Then she grinned and said, "She also said you needed to have your legs rubbed down. I convinced her that I should do it."

"Oh?" I said as the thought of that woke me up.

"She needed to go over to Aunt Jeanie's. They're picking out kitchen appliances or something."

"Already?"

"I guess, anyway ... we're alone."

With that she kissed me.

"Ok," I moaned, "where are we going to do this?"

"Oh!"

"The leg rub!"

I saw Jessica swallow, as though her mouth was dry.

"Yeah, leg rub."

It almost looked like she was having as much trouble with this as I was. I glanced down from her face. Definitely hard nipples. Of course seeing those didn't help my situation out at all. There was little way of hiding the fact that I was hard.

"Mom said we could use the floor, but the bed would be better, 'cause it would be hard..."