Quinton, page 5
“If Shane finds out, you can give up on that idea.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” she agreed, wincing. “He won’t be a happy camper if he finds out the amount of work they sent me either.”
“Do you have many current cases right now?”
“Not going to trial soon—thankfully,” she noted. “And I haven’t really been doing the type of work that I hired on to do either. We had a bunch of people leave, and we had all kinds of problems with staffing, so jobs were shuffled around,” she explained. “Honestly, I’ve been rethinking what I want to do.”
“Of course you have,” he agreed. “Nothing like readjustments in life to find out what’s really important.”
“And finding out what’s really important isn’t necessarily what you thought was so important,” she noted. “I still want to do an awful lot with my life. It’s a matter of finding something that I can do to pay the bills, that makes me happy, and that still allows me the freedom to do other things.”
“When you find out what that magical thing is,” he stated, “please share with us because you never know. A whole pile of us may want to jump on board.”
With that, she burst out laughing. “Oh my, if you had to leave your animals for even a few minutes,” she said, “I think you’d be absolutely devastated.”
“I don’t know about that,” he replied. “What I am is exhausted, looking forward to having Aaron here,” he murmured. “He’ll give me much more help in the clinic, and I can step back a little bit, take a breather, and see what’s next to be done. Right now it’s just go-go-go-go, and I don’t get a break. He comes back on his holidays and helps out for a while, but he’s still got a bit longer to go before I get that full-time assistant.”
“And that will be really nice for you,” she noted. “I know that Dani is looking forward to having Aaron around full-time too.”
“Of course, yes, and the two of them are a great couple,” he said warmly.
“And it seems,” Quinton added, as she looked around, “that an awful lot of couples are happening here. That really surprised me.”
“So many.” Stan nodded. “So, so many. Back then it was different, all prim and proper, stricter rules. Plus, just so much was going on while I got busy downstairs building my practice,” he shared. “So I followed the rules, never really socialized too much, brought up the animals to visit with our human patients, helped everybody along a little bit. Then all of a sudden love started happening, and now it’s like, Okay. Somebody changed the rules. And they forgot to tell me.”
She smiled. “And I’m sure it didn’t take you very long to figure it out,” she teased, with the gentlest of smiles.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Sometimes I think I’m still trying to figure it out.” He gave her a bashful grin. “But now, milady, it’s time for our dinner.” He motioned toward the big dining room doors. “Any idea what you’ll have?”
“I know the menus are on my iPad, but I haven’t been looking at it,” she admitted. “So I have no idea what’s even offered for dinner.”
He grinned. “Neither do I. Shall we find out together?” And, with that, they entered the dining room.
Chapter 5
Quinton was pleased at just how helpful everyone was. Stan rolled her into the dining area, as other people had been busy opening doors, stepping out of the way, and helping them along. Apparently Stan also garnered a lot of respect here, and, for that, she was happy for her old friend. As she got closer and closer to the buffet, she told Stan, “There are tricks to carrying trays—whether in a wheelchair or on crutches—but I never really was very good at it.”
He chuckled. “Tonight you don’t have to carry your own tray. I’m here.”
“And who’s going to carry yours then?” she asked, with a note of humor.
But Dennis heard her. He popped his head over the glass case and said, “Me. Me, me, me,” and he held up his hand, like a schoolboy looking for a treat.
“You,” she said, with a big grin, “don’t need extra work from anybody else.”
“It’s not work,” he argued. “It’s being of service, and the people who don’t recognize that being of service to another is actually a joy that we can share are missing out on so much.”
And such sincerity was in his voice that she had to stare at him. “You know that, in some ways, you’re a bit of a relic.”
He laughed. “In all ways,” he agreed, “and I know it, but that doesn’t change the fact that, if we can do something to make another person’s life easier, there’s no reason we shouldn’t be doing it.”
“Maybe not,” she admitted, “but I don’t think the rest of the world would agree with you.”
“Isn’t it a good thing that I’m not part of the rest of the world?” he teased, with a shrug. “I’m part of this Hathaway House world. And this world is where we all try to help each other. Now dinner? And, by the way, where were you for lunch?”
She winced. “I knew that you would call me on that, but the truth is, I fell asleep.”
“And afterward?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “You really haven’t eaten all day, have you? You know what Shane is going to say when he finds out.”
“Shane is going to give her a talking to,” said Shane, from behind her.
She went to twist around and then hesitated and replied meekly instead, “Hi, Shane.”
“You could have asked for a food delivery, you know? That pride and stubbornness of yours won’t take you everywhere.”
“No, not everywhere I want to go, apparently,” she confirmed, “but I knew I was coming here for dinner, and I wasn’t terribly hungry earlier. Plus, my stomach was still not too impressed, so it’s all good that I waited.”
“It is, as long as you promise to eat tomorrow,” Shane stated.
“I promise.” She looked over and saw beautiful filets of baked salmon. “Oh my, I so want one of those.”
“Done,” Dennis said, with a big smile.
And by the time they were seated, their table had grown by many people. Some she knew; some she didn’t, but all were friendly; and all were jovial. She looked over at Stan, who sported a big smile and appeared to be enjoying himself. A part of her wouldn’t have minded a quiet dinner with just Stan. But this place? This was all about acceptance. And she badly needed that.
She looked over at Stan and whispered, “This was a great idea, thank you.”
He nodded. “How about breakfast tomorrow, just the two of us?”
She nodded, and her heart jumped.
The next morning Stan woke with a smile on his face. He’d had a wonderful time the previous evening, and it seemed like she’d thoroughly enjoyed dinner, and so had he. He hadn’t realized just how many friends he had here at Hathaway House until he started naming them all for her.
She also knew a bunch of the people here, but she didn’t know everyone, and it was such a joy to see the acceptance on everybody’s face as Stan had introduced or reintroduced them to her. A few people were looking for an explanation, but also a few were just completely happy to see that they were gathered here and spending time together. Nobody made any rude comments or joked in any way that embarrassed her, and that was important too.
Stan didn’t know what he and Quinton had together—didn’t know that they had anything. He was hoping that they did, that it was more than one-sided. What they needed was time.
After dinner, when he’d taken her back to her room, she’d looked quite wiped out. He worried about her all night and had even waylaid Shane this morning, asking if she would be okay. Shane had reassured him in generic terms that she would be eventually, but that it was early days yet. He wasn’t still fully convinced about what had gone wrong for Quinton and what would be entailed to put Quinton back to rights, if indeed that could be done;and that had not been good news.
At the same time, Shane was a good person, a qualified physio. He was on her medical team, so Stan had to trust him.
And next he went to Quinton’s room and wheeled her to breakfast. They ate out on the deck again, just the two of them. “I’m being selfish, but I like having you just to myself for a meal.”
“Me too,” she agreed. “We always did get along, didn’t we?” she asked him, serious, staring into his gaze.
Stan nodded, gathering up his courage.
“And it feels like we resumed our relationship, like we just left it yesterday,” she added.
“You are so right. That’s exactly how I feel. It seems like our time apart didn’t stop what we have.”
“And what do we have?” she asked, again with that direct stare of hers.
“I think we have something great, something we should continue, but this time we need to have real discussions, I think, to share our feelings more.”
She frowned. “Real discussions about what?”
“Your hopes, dreams, fears, wishes. Even discussions about what we’re all told not to speak of.”
She gave a brittle laugh, putting her hand to her heart. “Like what?”
“Politics, religion, money, sex.” At that, he waggled his eyebrows at her.
She burst out laughing about that. “Okay, I can handle that.”
“Good.”
“So you want to get to know me better?” she asked.
Stan smiled, nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I want to know all about you.”
Then Robin appeared by his side, announcing, “We have an emergency downstairs, probably a surgery.”
With that, Stan touched Quinton’s hand and said, “To be continued. I’ll have Dennis get you back to your room.”
Before she could argue, Stan took off with Robin.
Stan worked through the morning, and, at lunchtime, he raced upstairs, hoping to catch Quinton. But, when he walked into the dining room area and didn’t see her, he walked up to Dennis and asked, “Has Quinton been here for lunch yet?”
Dennis immediately shook his head. “I’m afraid she’s crashed again. And she’s too polite to call and get something delivered when she needs it.”
“I know for sure that she won’t accept help, no matter how many times I try to convince her otherwise. And I fear she feels like a failure for having to return here—even more that she may think that she is taking a bed from somebody else,” Stan suggested in a low tone.
Dennis winced. “Of course she does. I’ve seen it many times. She figures that she’s had her time and now doesn’t deserve it anymore. And that’s pretty rough too because people who were patients here previously can still need help afterward.”
“I know she’s got a few days off work, but I don’t know how long she can stay here because, like the rest of us here,” Stan noted, “she has a full-time job and a career that she struggles to get back to.”
“I wonder how much she enjoys that career,” Dennis said. “Sounds like it’s pretty stressful.”
“It’s very stressful for her, and she mentioned she’s considering her future work options. Yet she has no clue what else to do.”
“Just like everybody else here at times,” Dennis agreed, with a glance behind him. “Nobody here has easy answers in that department. If she looks deep enough, I’m sure she’ll find something.”
Stan walked to her room but found no sign of her, so that was a surprise. When he heard voices, he looked over to see her in the hallway in her wheelchair. He walked toward her and noted she was talking to her brother. Stan stopped and hesitated, not sure he wanted to interrupt them. Her brother had a bad rep at the moment. Stan didn’t know whether or not Ryatt had improved enough to get over himself.
It was tough in a place like this because everybody knew who the troublemakers were, and you didn’t really want to be labeled one of them either. Then again Stan didn’t know the cause of Ryatt’s behavior, and, in this place, that could be anything. But, as Stan waited for Quinton to look up and notice him, Ryatt saw Stan first.
Ryatt motioned behind her and said, “Looks like Stan’s here, waiting for you.”
Immediately she pivoted in her wheelchair, her smile breathtaking when she saw him. “Hey, I was hoping to head down for lunch, wasn’t sure what you were up to.”
“I checked in the dining room for you first. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” He motioned to her brother, who was already turning away and heading down the hallway. “Does he want to join us?”
She turned back, frowned, and then shook her head. “No, I did mention it earlier, but he isn’t quite ready.”
“Is he ever going to be ready?” he asked in a low tone.
“I don’t know,” she replied softly., “I keep hoping so. Right now he’s going through a rough time.”
Stan loved the fact that she understood where Ryatt was coming from. “It’s not easy for anybody being here.”
“No, and I’m not finding it easy being here again either,” she murmured. “I feel like such a fraud. It’s such a weird feeling because it’s not something I ever really thought about before. But because this is such an important part of so many people’s lives, I just feel like I’m taking something away from others. I already had my chance.”
“Just because you had one chance,” he argued gently, “doesn’t mean you don’t get a second chance.”
She looked at him, smiled, and nodded. “That is a lovely way to put it,” she murmured. “I can’t say I was thinking about it in quite those terms.”
“They have made it very clear that you’re more than welcome to be here and that they’re working on a treatment plan for you,” he stated. “So I really don’t think that you need to worry about being here.”
“So why do I feel bad?” she asked, as they slowly made their way down to the dining room.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe you should answer that question yourself.”
She looked up at him and shrugged. “It’s never quite so easy.”
“It never is,” he murmured. “We know that, but, at the same time, it’s up to you to figure it out too. Everybody here just wants the best for you.”
“And I know that,” she said, with a gentle smile. “And it’s appreciated. Everybody here’s been wonderful.”
“That’s good because you know that they would all feel terrible if they knew how you felt.”
“Well, it’s … it’s so hard,” she shared. “I was doing so well.”
“And you will again,” he told her immediately.
She frowned, as if afraid to face him, and asked, “And what if I don’t?”
“Ah,” he murmured. “Fear raises its lovely head again.”
She winced.
“Right?” he asked.
Quinton paused. “What … I mean, what if I don’t improve? What if I don’t get better again? What if this is where I’m at, and what if there’s been some breakdown somewhere along the line, and I just won’t go back to the way I was?”
“And maybe you will,” he suggested, “and maybe you don’t want to?”
Startled, she looked at him. The double doors to the dining room opened ahead of her. “What do you mean?” she asked. “I’m not trying to be in this wheelchair.”
“And I’m not saying that at all,” he replied instantly. “I’m just wondering if you want to go back to the same job, the same type of work you did, and deal with the same kind of stress. I highly suspect that stress contributed to where you’re at right now.”
“That would be a very tough move, if I did choose that,” she murmured. “I do think sometimes about changing my career, but that’s not an easy adjustment either.”
“Sometimes the good things aren’t easy—but that shouldn’t discourage us from doing what’s best for ourselves. Like, with your current profession, you’re a lawyer, but can’t you do different kinds of lawyer things?” he asked, with a shake of his head. “And I guess that probably sounds pretty foolish, and I don’t really know what I’m saying, but surely you can practice in other areas, right? I mean, something of your own choosing?”
“Maybe I could.” She shrugged. “Obviously there are other specialties. I just … I mean, I never really looked at it for me.”
“And maybe it’s time for you to think about just you,” he noted. “So how hard a thing would it be for you to do this? To switch areas of law?”
“I don’t know how much trouble it would be. Different areas of law are governed by different rules,” she murmured. She looked around, smiled, and added, “Being here does give one a different perspective, and it does remind me just how lucky I am. I mean, I have most of my body parts,” she said, with a chuckle. “And most of what I’m missing isn’t necessary.”
“Are you missing organs too?” he asked.
“I lost a lobe off the liver, and I lost my spleen,” she shared. “A chunk of my small intestine but not a big piece. They managed to patch that back up again. So, all in all, I’m doing very well. It just doesn’t feel like that at present. … And I think maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m suddenly now in a very stressful job again, and it doesn’t look as if there’ll be any improvement in the immediate future.”
“And that can be a huge hindrance to your healing, both mentally and physically, as well as emotionally,” he noted. “Just think about it. It’s not that you can’t do something, but it makes it hard to imagine doing anything different.”
“And yet maybe I need to.”
“It’s definitely something to think about,” he suggested. “I’m not trying to tell you to change your profession. I’m just saying that you should consider where your stress levels are at and how you can minimize that.”
“Noted,” she said, “and thanks. Thanks for looking after me.”
And, with that, they moved into the dining area. As they walked in, Dennis looked up, smiled, and greeted them. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that he found you.”
“Yep, he did, indeed,” Quinton said. “I was trying to convince my brother to come down, but he’s avoiding the dining room crowd.”
