Wesley, p.1
Wesley, page 1
Wesley
Hathaway House, Book 23
Dale Mayer
Books in This Series:
Aaron, Book 1
Brock, Book 2
Cole, Book 3
Denton, Book 4
Elliot, Book 5
Finn, Book 6
Gregory, Book 7
Heath, Book 8
Iain, Book 9
Jaden, Book 10
Keith, Book 11
Lance, Book 12
Melissa, Book 13
Nash, Book 14
Owen, Book 15
Percy, Book 16
Quinton, Book 17
Ryatt, Book 18
Spencer, Book 19
Timothy, Book 20
Urban, Book 21
Victor, Book 22
Wesley, Book 23
Xavier, Book 24
Hathaway House, Books 1–3
Hathaway House, Books 4–6
Hathaway House, Books 7–9
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
About Xavier
Author’s Note
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
Welcome to Hathaway House. Rehab Center. Safe Haven. Second chance at life and love.
Dealing with the loss of his right leg was one thing, but dealing with his missing left arm was more than Wesley can handle. He can hide the prosthetic leg. However, the arm is damn-near impossible to make look normal. And being normal mattered—or so he thought.
Alba is a therapist at Hathaway House, helping the patients come to terms with their new reality, in order to have the highest-functioning future possible. Wesley is on her roster, but, as their sessions progress, a connection builds that is hard to resist—or to ignore. But she has to stay professional. Yet, when she points out a few issues to help him change his perspective, their friendship hits a rocky spot. Needing to find her balance again, she pulls back.
Only when Wesley accidentally meets a young girl, visiting her father at the center, does Wesley get the paradigm shift he needs. The transformation is there within his reach, if he makes the effort. And the results will be worth it. He knows that. As Alba once again returns to his inner circle, he realizes just how much effort he’s willing to put in to get everything he wants.
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Prologue
Wesley Broden stared at the inside of the ambulance. He couldn’t believe he had to travel this way. It was a six-hour drive, but he couldn’t find anybody else to take him, so this was about the only way to go. It wasn’t necessarily a true ambulance. It was more of an interfacility transfer vehicle.
The paramedic looked down at him. “You doing okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I had hoped to find somebody with a truck to get me there.”
“Not advised,” he replied. “Anybody in your condition will find it very painful to go that far for six long hours.”
“It is much more comfortable to lie down,” Wesley admitted.
The paramedic nodded. “That stump of yours is pretty sore, isn’t it?”
“Both of them.” He nodded. “They were doing better, and then they weren’t. I tried to … I wore the prosthetics too much,” he shared, hating to admit it. “I just was really happy to get back up and to have some mobility. And then, of course, I pushed it.”
“Yeah, that happens,” the EMT noted, “especially on your left arm.”
“Yeah, I don’t have much of a stump.” He had about four inches down from the shoulder. “I was really trying hard to make the prosthetic work because I hate not being independent,” he said, his tone letting through a tinge of anger.
“And yet there’s times when you need help, like all of us.” The paramedic lifted his pant leg and showed him his lower leg, which was a prosthetic.
Wesley stared at it. “Well, that gives me hope,” he said.
“Don’t ever lose hope,” the EMT declared. “I lost my leg when I was sixteen in a motorcycle accident, and I thought my life was over at the time,” he admitted, “but it’s not. It happened long ago, and I survived pretty fast. I had to have surgery and rehabilitation,” he added, “but it is what it is. I’m fine with it. My wife’s fine with it. My kids think it’s cool.”
Wesley laughed. “I can see that too. That almost sounds like fun when you’re a kid. I’m probably not a whole lot older than you, but, at the moment, I think my arm amputation bothers me more than the leg.”
“Of course. At Hathaway,” he offered, “you’ll do just fine.” He pointed out the window. “You can see the grounds just coming up here. I’ve delivered a couple people here, and every time I think what an absolutely incredible place it is. I’ve looked it up a couple times, and the reviews and awards it’s won are just incredible,” he shared. “You’re in good hands here.”
Wesley nodded. “I hope so. Sometimes you just want to give up.”
“Don’t give up,” the EMT stated. “I’m proof that you can have a life after amputation. Even double amputations,” he added. “Find something you want to do with your life and stick with it and don’t let anybody tell you differently.” And those were definitely words to live by.
“Do you know anybody who works there?” Wesley asked him.
“Several people,” he replied. “Dani, the co-owner, I’ve talked to her a couple times. I’ve had a friend go through here. She mentioned Dennis in the kitchen—apparently he’s quite a character. I don’t know anybody else right now, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot.” As he pointed out the window again, he said, “Look. Somebody is out riding horses.”
Wesley shifted so that he could look outside. “Wow, I would love to get back to horseback riding.”
“They have training here for the patients too,” the EMT offered.
A couple people were out there. Wesley watched the woman, with her long red braid bouncing behind her, as she moved the horses at a great clip.
“Well, if nothing else,” the paramedic added, with a big smile, “you’ll have lots of good things to look at.”
Wesley wasn’t sure whether the EMT meant the woman or the horse. But, in truth, the two of them moved as one and looked absolutely stunning. “I used to ride like that,” Wesley muttered.
“And you can again,” the paramedic vowed. “Don’t worry. Have a little faith, and it’ll take you a long way.”
And, with that, they pulled into the driveway and up to the front of Hathaway House and the new beginning of Wesley’s life.
Chapter 1
Wesley looked up at the ceiling of his room and released a slow, relaxing breath. He’d survived his first night at Hathaway. Now, there was both excitement and trepidation as to what was coming. He’d had everything explained to him last night, and that was all fine and dandy, but explanations were not the same thing as reality. He understood there would be a day of rest but also some testing, if they could work that in for today. As long as it was not strenuous, he was okay with it.
As he rested on the hospital bed, he was surprised at how well he’d slept. He hadn’t slept well for a long time. Maybe a sign of good things to come. He shifted and reached out for his phone, grateful that he could get it all set up with numbers for his team and got it charged last night. He checked to see several texts from friends, one asking how Hathaway House was and another from his mother, asking how the trip was.
Holding the phone on his lap with his bed now adjusted, so he was sitting a little bit higher, he carefully answered. He was still adjusting to not being able to hold his phone properly, what with one arm and no prosthetic on the other. Right now, he had to lay down the phone and text with his good hand. He could use voice commands but he was just stubborn enough to want to improve his physical abilities that he put up with being slow on his phone for the moment.
It took time, but he answered everybody, while looking up at times to check the view out his window. He could tell that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it so much to himself, he was looking to see if that woman he’d seen on his way in was out there riding again. She’d looked so at home on a horse that he figured she had to be somebody who either worked with them all the time or at least got out and rode all the time. Something he would love to do, and seeing her out there had given him hope that that was possible here. Still, he was a long way away from that yet.
He threw back the covers, grabbed his crutch that he kept close by, and hobbled to the bathroom, thankful that his missing arm and his missing leg were on opposite sides. Done with that, he eyed the shower, wondering where his strength level was at but figured that he would be okay, so he went through the process. He wasn’t bad at handling some things on his own, but other things he really sucked at.
Yet he was getting better all the time. And seeing his paramedic on the way here with his own prosthetic—and farther down the road than Wesley currently was—had given him something to think about. Of course many veterans and others had a missing leg, but nobody ever seemed to have a missing arm.
However, that wasn’t true. He’d certainly met a lot of people who had an arm missing and even some—like him—who had both missing. It seemed easier to blame the circumstances, saying that things were different because he had a unique situation. Yet really everybody was unique. It was all how they utilized what they had.
Wesley wanted to get proficient or better than proficient at doing without two limbs. And that was a problem. Because, so far, every time he’d tried to get back on his prosthetic leg, he had sored up his stump. The surgeries had put him back under but had built up his leg stump and his arm stump with a thick layer of muscle-bound skin. He had high hopes for both areas now, but he still hadn’t been cleared to get back up on his leg prosthetic.
That, he knew, would make a huge difference in his mental outlook. Just something about being vertical was inspiring, but it wouldn’t help any for his missing arm, and he knew it. He’d already heard all those platitudes about, Hey, be grateful you still have one arm, be grateful that it’s your left arm that’s missing and not your right, on and on, blah, blah, blah, blah. And they always came from people who had two arms.
As much as Wesley understood why they were doing it, it was also hard to listen to that over and over again. He had other things in his life besides that to deal with, but he was working on getting to the point where it didn’t bother him as much. He wasn’t there yet, and he knew it. But maybe, just maybe, he would get there.
When a knock came at his door, he called out, “Come in.” He pulled the sheet up over his stump and hips. He was just wearing his khaki pants. A woman stepped in, and he vaguely remembered her from last night. “Hey.” He gave her a smile. “I think your name’s Dani.”
“Yep, good memory.”
He shrugged. “I saw a lot of new faces last night,” he admitted, “but I don’t remember what your role is.”
“That’s fine,” she replied gently. “I came here to see if you are up for going down for breakfast.”
He nodded. “I’m kinda hungry.”
“Good.” She walked over and pivoted his wheelchair and pushed it toward him. “Let’s go. I’m hungry too.” When he frowned at her, she shrugged. “I run the place, so I have breakfast here too.”
“Oh, right, you’re that Dani.”
“I don’t know that there’s another Dani here,” she teased, “but, yep, I’m definitely that Dani.”
Flushing and feeling a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t remembered that part, he added, “I think I saw you when I first came in yesterday, out with the horses?”
“Yes.” She smiled and nodded. “We were out for a ride.”
“Yeah, another woman was with you,” he noted blithely, “a redhead.”
Dani laughed. “Her name’s Alba. She works here too.”
“Does she?” He looked up at her in surprise.
She nodded. “She’s an old friend of mine from high school, and, when an opening came, I convinced her to come.”
“And what does she do?”
“She’s one of the counselors on board and is just completing her PhD in psychology.”
“Interesting. So is that somebody I’ll possibly talk with regarding my issues?”
“It’s possible,” Dani replied. “I would have to see whether she’s on your team or not. Is that a problem if she is?” He shook his head, but maybe shook it a little too fast because her grin flashed in his direction. “Glad to hear that. Now, get your butt in here.” She pointed at the wheelchair, a big grin on her face.
He threw back the covers, and, with her firmly holding the wheelchair, he hopped over and sat down. He grabbed his T-shirt nearby and pulled it on.
She looked at his empty pant leg. “Do you want it pinned up?”
“No, I generally just roll it, like this.” And he showed her as he rolled it and tucked it underneath.
“As long as it’s comfortable for you,” she noted. Then she stepped behind him and pushed him forward.
“I can roll on my own,” he protested.
“You can, but today’s a long day of testing for you,” she shared. “So today you get the treatment.”
“Okay, but, just so you know, I am perfectly capable.”
“Glad to hear that,” she said cheerfully. “A lot to be ready for today. So just be aware that there will be lots of situations that might throw you off.”
“Got it, so, in that case, I’ll accept the help gratefully.”
“Good. Around here, we encourage everyone to accept all the help offered,” she stated.
As they went along the hallway, he asked questions about the various places on the floor.
“Yep, this is an open sitting area for everybody,” she murmured. “There’s also a pool table, some Ping-Pong tables.”
“Ping-Pong.” He had to laugh. “My reflexes are not up to that.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t be soon,” she pointed out.
He hesitated, then didn’t say anything else.
After a moment she looked at him and asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Just this question is in the back of my head, but it seems foolish, so I’m trying to argue with myself about asking it.”
“Ask away,” Dani urged. “The only stupid question is the one you didn’t ask.”
He laughed at that. “I guess what I really want to know is, does anybody …” He hesitated again, and then the words came out in a rush. “Does anybody ever fail here?”
“Fail?” she repeated, rolling the word around her tongue. “I don’t know that failure is really a word that we ever use here. … We have people who do phenomenally well. We have people who do great. We have people who do well. We have had a couple people who returned to the hospital because they’d overdone it, and we have had people who’ve gone to hospital because other conditions came up, and no way we could fix them here,” she explained. “I don’t think failure is exactly something that I’ve ever heard used.”
“So do you ever send people away because they’re not showing progress? Do you send people away because they’re too difficult to get along with?” He again paused. “I’ve heard a lot about this place. The paramedic on the way over had a lot to say, and it was all good and positive, but it’s like all those reviews on the big online stores. You read them all, and then you wonder how much people got paid to write them, and you start to get jaded.”
“I understand that,” she admitted. “It’s one of the reasons, when I come to reviews, I tend not to read the one stars. Those are usually people pissed about a product and either didn’t do anything to fix it or didn’t return it to be replaced or whatever the reason. I usually go to the three-star reviews and see what criticisms people have.”
Wesley nodded. “I’ve done something similar too. But it is a bit of a concern that everybody’s got all these glowing reports about Hathaway House. And then you come to the point where you’re wondering if you’ll match up.”
“Meaning that you might be the one person who doesn’t make it?” Dani asked, frowning.
He looked over at her. “I guess that sounds foolish, doesn’t it?”
“I’ve heard that worry quite a few times from our patients.”
“Really?” he asked, twisting in his seat to look up at her.
“Yes, and glad to see you don’t have any back problems.”
He looked at her and realized that his mobility told her a lot. “Me too. Generally my back isn’t too bad. … The problem has been lack of muscle on the stumps, so they don’t interact well with the prosthetics.” He tapped his little wing. “This causes me the most trouble.”
She nodded. “According to the medical records, it’s sored up from use, but it’s usable. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but I don’t have the strength in the arm to carry anything with it.”
“I’m sure Shane can work on that,” she mentioned.
“Shane?”
“Your physiotherapist. Well, he’s the head of physiotherapy, so you might have somebody else in that department working with you. However, he’ll be the one who overlooks the team.”
“Ah, and this friend of yours, Alba, what does she do again?”
“She’s a counselor,” Dani replied.
“Right,” he muttered, feeling foolish.
