Page 4 of The Sunny Side (Rojo 2nd Generation: Rojo Police Department #3)
“It took us a bit to adjust to each other, but he finally started coming out of his shell. Since then, he’s been a big help with my recovery process. It’s like having a nurse around day and night.”
“I would ask if you’ve already trained him to fetch you a beer from the fridge, but we both know that alcohol isn’t good for your recovery.”
“It was so hot the other day that I would have killed for an ice-cold bottle of beer, but I managed to resist. I felt I deserved a reward for that, so I went out and bought something else instead.”
“What did you buy?” Lana asked as she pushed the door open and held it for me to walk outside ahead of her.
“I wandered around the game store and ended up getting an old-school console and about ten games I haven’t played in forever.”
Lana perked up and asked, “Really?” When I nodded, her eyes got wide, and she asked, “ Pro Skater 3 ?” I nodded again, and she gasped. “Tony Hawk was my first love.”
“When I went to bed last night, Lyric was asleep in the sunroom, and Crow and Phoenix were playing Grand Theft Auto III in my living room. When I woke up this morning, they were all still sleeping in my house.”
Lana burst out laughing and said, “That sounds like old times. I don’t remember playing inside during the summer, but when it was cold, we’d have video game marathons that lasted for days.”
“I guess my house is the place to do that now, and I don’t mind at all. I keep telling myself it’s good socialization for Max, but in reality, I get really sick of hanging out by myself while everyone else is out riding.”
Lana touched my arm and said, “I’m sorry, honey. You’ll be able to ride soon. I promise.”
“I can’t wait,” I told her honestly. “I miss being outdoors so much that I go out to my parents’ sometimes, sit on their rock, and just watch the clouds.”
“I bet your mom loves that.”
“She’s half the reason I’m doing so well. You know she can’t sit still. She’s had me working out with her almost every morning.”
Lana winked before she said, “I know she has. She came in and had a meeting with us to determine which poses would be beneficial for you and which ones she would need to avoid.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Of course she did.”
Lana turned around and locked the door behind her, ready to go home since I was the last patient of the day. “Where are you going now?”
“I was planning to grab something from a drive-thru and go home.”
“Any chance you’ll let me pick up the food and try to kick your ass in a skateboarding competition?” she asked hopefully.
“Get tacos. Lots of tacos.”
◆◆◆
TWO MONTHS AGO
“Did you pick up your toys?” Max nodded, a new trick we’d been working on, so I said, “Go get a stuffie, and put it by your leash.”
Max bounded off, and I went back to strapping myself into my latest torture device, although I had to admit that this one looked much less bulky and, for lack of a better word, angry than the ones before it.
Even though I felt like I could do almost anything at this point, Lana insisted that I keep working at a steady pace and not skirt any of the rules she’d put in place - the most important one of which was to wear this brace unless I was sleeping or in the shower.
Of course, I had a different brace that I had to wear while I was sleeping, and I also now had some handy-dandy bars attached to the walls of my shower to match the shower chair and the non-slip mat that was apparently essential for people who were recovering their balance.
I probably would have skipped the bars and maybe even the mat, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
That’s what happened when your parents had a key to your house and a direct line of communication with your doctor and physical therapist. So much for HIPAA and all that entailed.
Apparently, it didn’t apply when it came to parents.
I heard a loud whistle and shook my head as I stood up.
Max was excited and was letting me know in every way possible.
Today was our first day back at work, and he had noticed the change in our routine.
There was another whistle as I walked down the hall toward the living room, so when I walked in, I said, “We still have to pack your bag for the day.”
Max looked down at the buttons spread out on the floor in a honeycomb pattern and used his paw to press the ones that said, “Hurry!” and “Please.”
“Come take your vitamins,” I ordered as I walked into the kitchen and opened the tray that I used to sort out his daily vitamins for the week.
I set them on the stool he used for his food before I warmed up a pint of home-canned beef bone broth and poured it into a bowl for him to have while I packed his bag.
A six-pack of bottled water, a collapsible water bowl, a sack of kibble, an apple, and a container of freeze-dried fruits and vegetables I used as treats went into the soft-sided cooler.
Max’s supplies occupied most of the space, but I managed to put in another apple for myself along with a container of leftover lasagna my mom had dropped off earlier in the week.
Every time I packed Max’s bag for the day, it reminded me of my childhood and watching Mom pack our lunches after dinner for school the next day.
I’d always wondered what kind of father I’d be and had realized since Max came to live with me that I might not be too bad in that role.
He was training me for the job as intensely as I’d been training him on different things.
Max sprinted out of the kitchen, and I heard my voice say the words “Ready!” and “Now!” as he pressed more buttons. I laughed as I put his bowl in the sink.
I walked around the corner and saw Max was almost vibrating with excitement as he stood beside his word panel waiting for my response.
I said, “Get your leash and your stuffie, and let’s go.”
Max sprinted to the front door and skidded to a stop within inches of the wall before he picked up his short leash and the stuffed animal he’d chosen for the day and then looked up at me with his tail wagging a mile a minute.
“Good boy. Let’s go to work.”