Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

I was surprised it had all the comforts of a town car. With the crutches stowed in the back seat with Ghost, his dog, we made our way down the drive.

“Sorry about how hard it was for you to get into the truck and all,” he said. “I work on farms and need a rugged vehicle to drive into the fields and off-road.  I could borrow a car if I need to drive you around.”

“No, don’t change things for me. With your help, I made it in fine. Maybe someday soon, I’ll be able to spring into the cab all by myself.”

“For your sake, I hope that day is soon.” He made a wide turn as we swung onto the main road. The momentum gently threw me against him and I got a whiff of his good, clean smell. No sweet cologne or sweaty odor for this man.

He braked softly. “Sorry about that.”

The movement of the truck unnerved me a little. I still wasn't comfortable being in a car, or truck, no matter who was behind the wheel. I tried to breathe and concentrate on my hands. I caught him trying to catch a glimpse of me. Once, twice.

Finally, I had to ask. “What, what is it? Why do you keep looking at me?”

He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Sorry, I was trying to figure out if you’d mind if I said something.”

“Go on, say it, say whatever you want.” I was getting nervous as we headed to P.T.—physical therapy—or as I called it, Pain Today.  I turned toward him and was struck by the sad, almost puppy-dog-look on his face.  “I’m sorry. I’m nervous about starting with a new therapy practice. All they seem to do is hurt me. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

He glanced at me again, then grinned. “Maybe what I was gonna say is good for you to hear.”

“So…?”

"Okay, first, I want to say that you don't have to hold on for dear life. I'm a good driver and we'll be able to see any trouble coming a mile away on this road if it's gonna come at all."

Beating down my fear, I peeled my fingers away from the bar and clasped my hands in my lap.

“That’s better. Now, what I was going to say was that I’m impressed that you didn’t blow off the appointment. You could have. You had lots of reasons for not going, like being late, no driver, too tired from the move—”

I stopped him. "I can’t do that. I hate not being able to do what I want to do. This is hell for me. I'm used to being on my own, relying on myself. I want to get better. I have to get better. That's why I came down here, and to preserve my sanity. Make me a deal. If I ever try to back out of P.T., make me go. I might not appreciate it at that moment, but I'll thank you later. I promise."

His tanned face moved into a big smile. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Good.”

I nestled into my seat to try and enjoy the ride. The Cottage was a magical place to be, but it wasn't immune from giving me cabin fever. Out here, there were no buildings of concrete and glass to block my view of trees still green with the life of summer and the gentle waters reflecting the blue sky. In spots, I could see for several miles. The land had been ground flat by the massive glaciers of the Ice Age. When they'd finally melted, they flooded the Susquehanna River and created what we know today as the Chesapeake Bay. Here, it was free and open. A wave of happiness went through me, something missing for a long time. I felt like dancing, but that would have to wait until I could stand on both legs.

A memory cropped up that might be very appropriate to share with TJ. “Going to P.T. like this reminds me of the times my dad took me to see the doctor when I was a little girl.” A giggle escaped. “That’s how I knew I was going to get a shot or something equally awful. Mom would always cry when I cried, so Daddy always took me. Then he spoiled me terribly.”

“What did he do?” TJ turned down the air-conditioner.

"Oh, he'd buy me a toy or…" I hoped to plant a suggestion. "Or he would take me someplace special afterward, like the ice cream parlor, the playground, someplace that would make me forget the trauma I’d just experienced.”

“That’s nice,” TJ said.

The guy couldn't take a hint. I tried again. "Since you think I was so good about coming to P.T., what about a reward?"

“Okay, I didn’t think you’d be interested in a playground, but there’s one—”

“No,” I cried, “Not a playground!” Was this man dense… or teasing me?

“Okay, okay, I was just playing. Where would you like to go?”

“Is there a place where I could learn about the history of this area?” I asked.

He shot me a strange look. “What kind of history? Do you want to go to the Talbot County Historical Society?”

I stared at the road, trying to think. “That might be a possibility.”

"No, that won’t work. They're moving or something. I heard all the files are packed away."

Why is everything so hard, I almost screamed?

“Would the library do?” he asked. “There’s a special reference area called the Maryland Room. You might find what you’re looking for there.”

I wanted to cry out with delight but, hoping to sound only vaguely interested, I said, “Yes, that sounds fine.”

His next words made me tense up again. “What