Chapter Ninety-One

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Chapter Ninety-One

The next four months flew by for everyone involved with Blake's rehabilitation. Early on, it was discovered that Blake had nerve damage in his right hand and arm, causing it to shake frequently with over-use. Rumor's spread around St. Micheal's that Dr. Hansen would soon be looking for a new job. Alice, however, insisted that with enough physical therapy, the shaking would go away. But, after several months of work, Dr. Tunstall was only able to make the tremors subside.

The month of May brought with it new joy as Blake was finally cleared to leave the hospital's premises. The second the papers were signed, Alice grabbed a wheelchair and tossed Blake a jacket. “Come on, Lazy-Pants. I don't have all day.” She said, helping Blake tie his shoes.

“Where are we going?”

“For a little walk. You need fresh air and sunshine.”

Alice pushed Blake down into town, slowing only as she passed her favorite coffee shop. Once she had inhaled enough of the sweet aroma, she picked back up her pace and continued on until she hit the park. She found the bench that Blake had sat on during their first visit there, and plopped down in a huff. “You're heavy.” She said, enjoying the cool breeze that was blowing in from the cove. Blake slowly looked around, taking in the beautiful view in front of him.

“I know this place.”

“Of course you do. It's only your favorite park in New Coven.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, you're the one who brought me here. You tell me.” Blake shook his head, unable to remember what made the park so special.

“It might have something to do with that story your father used to tell the tourists. Do you remember it?”

“Something about a place called New Coves? And storms, I think.” Alice took her time, retelling Blake the story. Blake sat silently, nodding his head every so often as he recalled small bits and pieces of it. “You tell it well.” He said, once she was finished.

“Maybe I made it all up.” Alice teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Nah, you sounded like my dad. At least, I think you did. The story sounded right anyway. Do you ever think I'll get back to where I was?”

“Yes.” Alice said, not giving it a second's thought.

“I hope so. It still frustrates me that I can't seem to remember you. I mean, I've gotten to know you, and I've heard the stories about what happened to us. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I get flashes of you. But, every time I try to focus on them, they disappear.”

“We had a strange start, that's for sure.” Alice laughed nervously, looking for a chance to change the subject.

“Tell me about us.” Blake said, making Alice all the more edgy.

“It's a long story, so maybe some other time. We should probably be getting back anyway.”

Alice stood up and went to move to the back of Blake's wheelchair, only to be stopped when Blake grabbed her wrist. She tried to yank her arm free, but Blake held on tight. Feeling his hand begin to shake, Alice stopped fighting and sat back down on the bench. “I deserve to know the truth.” Blake said. He knew that his nurse had been edging around the subject from day one, and he was getting tired of playing her game.

“Okay fine, I'll tell you my version of it. I'm biased though, so take it with a grain of salt. I woke up from a four year coma in St. Micheal's. You know that, right?” Blake nodded his head and let Alice continue. She didn't stop talking until the sun began to set. While she had left some parts out, Alice had honestly done her best to retell their previous life to the best of her ability. Blake sat back in his wheelchair, soaking in the story as best as he could. “Whew, I'm thirsty. You want a coffee?” Alice asked, itching to leave.

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