Melissa: A Hathaway House Heartwarming Romance, Dale Mayer [best motivational books to read TXT] 📗

her trouble. A lot of people said that she was cold, introverted, even though that wasn’t true. She was just not somebody who spoke openly about her feelings or about the hardships that she’d gone through.

It seemed like everybody in the world had hardships, and that made her feel like hers were relegated to the so what category. Although many hadn’t seemed to go through what she had gone through, yet to even think like that sounded like she was making excuses. Like she was coming up with a reason to justify her feelings, whereas what she really needed to do was just accept that they existed and stop trying to justify them. She’d heard that advice time and time again from various people, but it wasn’t the easiest thing for her to let go.

That was part of the reason she wasn’t looking forward to seeing a shrink here. That would mean dealing with a whole pile of history that she wasn’t prepared for.

Just around that time, her bladder insisted on being emptied. Taking a deep breath, she slowly sat up. Then she gingerly swung her legs to the floor. It would take a minute to get some blood circulating through the rest of her as it was, and getting off the bed tended to feel more like a jump instead of just a step. But she made it, finally, in an awkward slide. Standing on her feet, she limped her way to the bathroom.

By the time she was done, she craved a shower. It was early, so she shouldn’t have any conflicting issues with that. Inside the shower stall she scrubbed herself from head to toe, loving the feel of the hot water running over her sore shoulders and neck.

As she stood under the water, she slowly did some stretches that Shane had shown her to loosen some of her muscles. They were surprisingly effective. By the time she was done, dried off, and dressed for the day, she had her shoulder-length hair pulled into a hair clip at the back of her head.

She made her way again to the bed and checked her cell phone for the time. It was just seven-thirty. Maybe too early for breakfast but not too early for coffee. She studied the wheelchair and realized that, as much as she didn’t want to use the wheelchair, walking down there and back again would wear her out before her day had even begun. It would have to be the wheelchair, whether she liked it or not. She got in and slowly pushed herself out to the hallway and down to the cafeteria. With any luck it might be empty.

As she wheeled through the double doors, she saw that it wasn’t empty, but it was definitely calmer and quieter then normal. No food was out on the buffet, so she headed to where the coffee was set up. The man who she had come to recognize as the head of the kitchen area, even if he wasn’t the chef, Dennis, stood there putting on fresh coffee. At the sound of her wheels approaching, he turned, looked at her, and a big smile crossed his face.

“Now that’s a good sign,” he said.

She looked up at him in surprise. “What is?”

“To see you here. Pretty and bright and early.”

“And here I thought it was a sign I had a bad night,” she said drily.

He laughed. “That too,” he said. “But you’re up and active, and that’s worth a lot.”

She wondered at his eternal optimism but was ready to let it go because he seemed so happy. And honestly, that was contagious. “I am hungry.”

“Coffee first,” he said. “Muffins, yogurt, granola, all kinds of easy breakfast stuff, like fruit balls, are on the sideboard,” he said. “And we’ll have hot food out any minute now.”

“That early?”

“We’re running a little behind this morning,” he said, “but not to worry. By the time you get your coffee to a table, I’ll have the pans out.” On that note, he headed behind the kitchen counter and disappeared through the double doors into the back.

She chose a table out in the sun and put her cutlery and coffee down, then turned to go back in inside. And, sure enough, as soon as she was in the line, now two people stood in front of her. Then Dennis came out with a trolley full of trays. She smiled as the covers came off and the trays were put down. Large spoons were put in each, in a very efficient manner, and, all of a sudden, people were serving themselves. They knew how the system worked here. She waited until it was her turn. When she got up to the front, Dennis was there, waiting for her.

“If nothing appeals,” he said, “or if you fancy anything else, just let me know.”

She shook her head. “This is all good,” she said, and she served herself a decent portion, without getting too much. She wanted to make sure that she didn’t waste any food, and yet, at the same time, she could feel the hunger gnawing at her belly.

With a full tray on her lap, she slowly wheeled out to where she’d placed her coffee and cutlery. She was careful not to spill anything, but it was dicey. She wasn’t even sure how people carried as much as they did. She had never had that skill or coordination to do something so economical when moving about, but they all seemed to handle it quite well.

Crash.

She twisted slowly to see one of the guys standing there with crutches, a tray, and a lost look on his face, as he stared down at what had been one of the yogurt parfaits, which was now smashed on the floor.

“See? I told you, Dennis,” he said.

“And I told you that you won’t be the first and you won’t be the last,” Dennis said. Coming around with a mop and bucket, he quickly cleaned up the splattered food, handed the guy another