Pops was probably my all time favorite person. He always had been. He had been more consistent in my life than my dad was. Plus he was just a cigar smoking, motorcycle riding, excellent handyman, super cool old guy.
He was currently underneath the kitchen sink replacing the faucet. I was sitting there, off to the side, holding the directions he definitely didn't need.
"If it was up to your dad this place would just turn into rubble." He muttered. "How long has this damn thing been broke?"
I shrugged, since before my accident. Which surprised me it went broken as long as it had. Usually Nan would bitch about it, undoubtedly go home and bitch to Pops about it who would show up the next day while no one was home and my dad and I would come home and everything would be fixed. Not a trace of Pops anywhere. Basically my dad was borderline useless except for making money. Which I guess was important but not nearly as much as he thought it was.
"I don't know, couple weeks maybe." I finally said.
He grumbled something I couldn't hear, tossing a tool to the floor with a clank. I let out a yawn, watching as he wiggled himself out of the cabinet. His black hair had long since gone silver, but he kept it immaculate like he always had, his chin speckled with a shadow he hadn't shaved off this morning.
"Are you tired son?" He asked, straightening himself out.
He looked massive now that I was stuck in a chair all the time. Broad shoulders, a little belly from Nan's cooking, tall like the rest of the Savas men.
"Yeah, a little." I told him.
He nodded toward the living room. "Go get some rest, I can finish up on my own."
I smiled slightly, nodding my head in agreement as if I had been doing anything to begin with.
"Do you need help?"
That was the other thing about Pops that I liked. He wasn't overbearing and he always asked rather than assumed I needed help. Unlike everyone else. Maybe he realized my dignity had been flattened and he was trying to give me some of it back.
"I think I got it." I said.
Transferring from my wheelchair to my bed or vice versa was a little more difficult then transferring to a chair but I also needed to get better at it. And this was a rare opportunity where I could try it on my own without Jase breathing down my neck or Nan babying me.
"Alright, holler if you need something. Want me to wake you up before Jase shows up?"
"Yeah that'd be great." Anything was better than Jase waking me up.
He gave me a nod, taking the directions from my lap and discarding them on the counter. They'd stay there until they found their way to the garbage during clean up. I started rolling away, my right arm significantly weaker than my left.
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I sat there, staring at the wall. I hated coming to therapy. Especially with Jase. I had been in a relatively good mood up until Jase showed up and Pops left. He'd rushed me out into the car and then into my chair once we got here, never once asking if I wanted his help. Actually he never asked me a damn thing now, not even how I was doing. So as I sat there staring at the walls, trying to escape my own thoughts as they plummeted down a dark and depressing hole, I didn't even see anyone walk up.
"Ready to get started?"
My eyes darted over to the owner of the voice that intruded my thoughts. She wasn't smiling like all of them normally do. Too nice and too happy because they're trying to hide their pity.
She raised her eyebrows at me, light green eyes staring back. I'd never seen someone with eyes so light green and clear. They left me at a loss for words.
"I'll take that as a yes." She said on a defeated sigh, disappearing behind me.
I felt the brakes unlock, my chair pushing forward. She pushed me in silence down the hallway and to the therapy room. I stared as the carpet rolled beneath me. Too annoyed and bitter to be bothered.
She spun me around, the two of us backing into the room where I'd spent more time then I wished I had. The fluorescent lights were blinding, the paint a disgusting pale yellow, the white tile covered in black mats for when one of us would undoubtedly fall. It was fucking depressing, all of it.
"So how have you been feeling?" She asked, the brakes locking on the wheelchair once more.
Her green eyes met mine as she sat beside me at a table, waiting for me to answer.
I was fucking angry.
But I didn't say that.
"I'm fine." I muttered.
She let out a breath. "And how has your pain been?"
My hands were tingling, like they fell asleep, more often than not, I had a lovely sharp pain that'd flair up in my shoulder blade areas now and again, if I stayed too long in one position everything just fucking throbbed and then there was the whole thing of not being able to move. Luckily for me I'd managed to hang on to the majority of my sensory function so I felt a lot. Sarcasm had become my best friend.
"It's fine." I muttered again, staring at my hands folded in my lap.
I caught her green eyes rolling out of the side of my eye, my eyes narrowing. What kind of fucking therapist was she?
"And have you been working on any of the therapy exercises at home?"
"Yeah."
But not because I had the choice. Jase was over more than he wasn't and he was always forcing me to do them. It didn't matter if I was in pain or I was too tired or if they triggered spasms. Or if Nan and I had already done them.He was typically relentless and he didn't understand that this was it. I wasn't ever going to be the same.
She mumbled something under her breath, my eyes snapping up to her defensively. Her blond ponytail swinging behind her as she shook her head.
"What?" I snapped.
"Nothing." She grumbled. "I'm just going to go find..."
"No, what did you say?" I demanded, my voice rising.
Her green eyes met mine, not an ounce of pity in them. "It's just amazing."
The words caught in my throat a second as I stared at her. I'd gotten so used to everyone pitying me or talking around me like I wasn't even there, I'd forgotten what it was like to see someone who didn't.
"What is?"
She laughed to herself, an unhappy smile spreading across her features. Her eyes darted off somewhere and I knew the conversation that had barely even started was over.
"Hey Owen!" It was Sarah. I blew out a breath. "I see you met Mina. How are you doing today sweetie."
I shook my head, not bothering to hide my distaste for Sarah's overly chipper attitude.
"I'm fine."
"Mina is going to be helping me out today. I think you guys will get along great, she's your age." Sarah explained, pulling a ball from a drawer.
I shifted my gaze to Mina. How did someone my age get a job at a PT place? I filed the question away for another time as she deliberately looked away from me, her eyes rolling. Yeah, we were going to get a long fucking awesome.
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