Clay and Callan quickly settled into a new routine. She stayed home with him in the mornings, took him to doctor and therapy appointments, ran errands, and did whatever needed to be accomplished around the house. Afternoons, his mom generally came to visit while Callan went into the convention center to work.
If Callan had an event to attend or a client meeting, one of their family members would spend the evening with Clay. He would have preferred being alone, but everyone wanted to help. He swallowed down his annoyance at being treated like an invalid and smiled graciously as they kept him company.
The day finally arrived when Callan drove Clay back to the hospital to have his cast removed and see what the specialist, Dr. Greene, thought. David was also present when the cast finally fell away.
Prepared for the worst, Callan tried hard not to flinch when she saw Clay’s leg. The flesh looked shrunken and pale, especially in comparison to his other leg. Angry, red scars ran up his shin and across his thigh. The entire leg appeared frail and weak. Wondering if it would ever look like the other leg, Callan didn’t care. Clay was going to be fine. He could walk, and that was the only thing that mattered right now.
After a glance at his leg, Clay couldn’t stand to take another look. He wasn’t happy Callan stood beside him, intently studying it. She used to think his legs were… what was her word? Magnificent. Now, he could only imagine what she would think of this one.
Would it bear his weight? Would it work like it should? Would it look like a shriveled stick for the rest of his life?
David and Dr. Greene looked at each other and smiled. The leg had healed better than they expected. Dr. Greene arranged for Clay to undergo therapy with a physical therapist in Tenacity so they wouldn’t have to continue making long trips into the city.
Not wanting to waste any time, his first appointment was the following day.
After his first therapy session, Clay had no doubt that he would be maimed for life. He wasn’t convinced he could go through with the therapy. Beyond the pain he’d endured, they’d saddled him with a drill sergeant for a therapist.
The fifty-something slip of a woman, Miz Larsen, as she informed him she liked to be addressed, was an evil, driven maniac.
Clay refused to allow Callan to witness his misery, so she sat waiting for him in the reception area before driving him home.
As they left the parking lot, Callan chatted excitedly, much to Clay’s dismay. “Wasn’t that Ms. Larsen nice? She seems very competent. You were fortunate to get her as your therapist. I’ve heard she’s the best in town. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Great. Just great.” Clay hoped Callan noticed his sarcastic tone. He’d already decided he’d refer to the therapist as The Warden and prayed his time spent under her supervision would be brief.
As the weeks flew by, Clay’s leg grew stronger and he, albeit grudgingly, agreed that The Warden was a wonder. The day he traded his crutches for a cane, he insisted Callan get rid of the crutches and any other medical equipment in their home.
On the first day of fall semester, Clay limped into his classroom and stood in the doorway as the students jumped to their feet and applauded. He felt so blessed to be back doing something he loved so much.
The day he had his last therapy appointment, Callan and Clay hosted a big barbecue in their backyard with all their close friends and family to celebrate his release from The Warden.
As he watched Audrey and Emma chase Cully while Callan laughed at something Josh said, he leaned back in his lawn chair, feeling content and peaceful.