Family Matters Page 13

  “Clear as mud, Coach!”

  “Straight from research at Stanford. Your mind fires your nervous system exactly the same way as if you’re actually doing it. When you picture me making a shot and compare that to what you think you can do, that screws you up, Townsend. You’ve got to put yourself on the line instead of working to minimize your losses.”

  Now, today, as Buddy stood on the edge of the playing field, his own words echoed in his mind. “Put yourself on the line instead of working to minimize your losses.” But he hadn’t listened to his own advice when he’d given up his career playing for the Burn. He had minimized his own losses.

  No wonder Andy couldn’t accept that from him. It was everything she fought against, with every child she’d ever worked with.

  He pulled his cap out of his pocket and slapped it on. Marshall Townsend’s opportunity could very well come on the field today. Buddy had seen the player’s improvement during practice. “Harv asked me what’s gotten into you,” he said in the locker room as Marshall made ready for the game. “I told him that, with you, it wasn’t if anymore. Only when.”

  The Dallas Burn took the field at two o’clock that afternoon. As the play swung into full action, Harv and Buddy substituted players on the fly and adjusted their plans. The afternoon, as always, moved quickly. With ten minutes left to play, Spooner stole the ball from a Colorado Rapids player, quickly moving it outside, then passing right to Kirkland. Kirkland controlled the ball perfectly, moving it toward the far end of the field.

  Spooner freed himself first, dancing forward with a half turn, controlled the ball and shot. Colorado’s keeper deflected it with two hands high over his head. He dropkicked it in the general direction of Marshall Townsend.

  Not yet, Marshall! Buddy thought. But almost! Almost!

  As if his friend had read his mind, Marshall dribbled the ball for five steps, looked straight toward the net and faked a shot.

  Now! Buddy thought. You’ve got it!

  For one moment there might as well not have been anyone or anything on the field except for Marshall, the spinning black-and-white leather ball, the Rapids’ goalkeeper, the net.

  “No!” Harv pounded his palm with his fist. “Not that left long shot again! No!”

  Buddy said simply, “We’ve been working on this, Harv.”

  When Marshall took the shot, the ball shot forward half the length of the field, an inch above the ground, going at least ninety miles an hour.

  The keeper dove. The ball jettisoned past him in a flash of black-and-white. It landed and lodged itself neatly in the left side of the net.

  The crowd went wild.

  The team went wild.

  “Goal! Dallas Burn!” the announcer bellowed.

  No one stopped to count how many months it had been since someone had made such an impossible shot. But Buddy knew.

  “It was Townsend! Marshall Townsend!” Harv turned and gave Buddy a hard high five. “What a play! What a play! So help me, tonight I’m taking that boy for a New York strip dinner!”

  Cody loved his new swimming class. He loved going to the big indoor pool, feeling the water all tingly and cold around him. When he was in the water, he felt almost as if he could swim. But he couldn’t quite manage it, so he just pretended instead, using his hands to push and splash.

  His dad had come home from the office today to bring him. There was a lady that came to his dad’s house during the day to help take care of him, too. But his dad didn’t spend too much time away from the house right now.

  Cody liked it that Mark Kendall had introduced him to the other kids on swim team. He liked making new friends who hadn’t known him before. He didn’t know if his old friends at school would like him anymore since he couldn’t walk around. His new friends were good because they liked him just the way he was.

  In the class they took turns on a kickboard while Mark helped them splash in circles through the water. They played all sorts of water games together, diving for rings and pitching balls and closing their eyes and looking for each other. There was a little girl named Megan who outswam the rest of them. Somebody told Cody that she’d won a race.

  At the end of the class, his dad told him he was really proud. He heard him say to his coach, “I believe in this program one hundred percent. Andy’s been telling us how good it would be for Cody. But I didn’t know it would be this good.”

  “I liked it, too,” Cody told his dad in the car on the way home. “Do you think my bathing suit changes color?”

  “What?”

  “The pirate stuff on the seat. When it gets wet. I think it changes color.”

  “I’m not sure, kiddo,” his dad said, kissing him.

  “Megan thinks it does. She saw a shirt that does it on TV.”

  His dad smiled. “You want to go to the office with me? This would be a good day to come, if you’re not tired. You can meet some of my patients that I always talk about.”

  “Yeah, Dad! I want to—”

  “Okay.” His dad shifted into first gear. “We’re on our way.”

  When they arrived at the office, Michael introduced Cody to Inez, the nurse, and Chris Bell, the receptionist. Cody made friends with the kids in the waiting room and even got to sit in on one of his dad’s appointments. “This is my son, Cody,” Michael said, introducing him to Bill and Marge Josephs. “I didn’t think you’d mind if he sat in with us.”

  “Not at all,” Bill bellowed in his Central Texas drawl. He said “at all” in one word. Atall. “You figurin’ on growing up to be a doctor some day, son?”

  Cody gave him a straight answer. “I don’t think so. People keep asking me that question but I’m not old enough to have it all figured out yet.”

  “Guess what,” Bill said, leaning toward him conspiratorially and pointing to the rows and rows of wrinkles around his eyes. “I’m not old enough to have it all figured out yet, either!”

  “Let’s get this over with, Bill,” Michael said, pointing toward the examining table. “Get right on up there and let me have a look at you.”

  “Good luck catching him,” his wife teased. “He’s moving so fast these days, I have a horrible time catching him. I have a horrible time making him do what I want.”

  “Honey,” Bill said. “It’s all your frame of mind. When there comes the time that I want to do what you want me to do, then I’ll let you catch me.”

  Michael shot a grin at Bill. “Been feeling good, huh?”

  “The best. Like a kid. Got so much energy, I don’t know what to do with it.”

  “Right,” Marge said, winking at Cody.

  “Can’t decide whether to go fishing or go golfing or go dove hunting or just hang out with the boys. And I’ve got these two horses named Dan and Kimbo that need riding all the time.” He leaned down close to Cody. “You like to ride horses? Have your dad call me up and we’ll take you out for a ride.”

  “Hard decisions,” Marge interjected. “Too bad you don’t consider fixing the doorbell as one of your heart-wrenching choices. Or how about finding the leak that’s ruined all my soaps underneath the bathroom sink?”

  “But, Marge,” he said in the exact same tone of voice Cody used when he said “But, Mom.” “I’m retired.”

  “Okay. Let’s check you out now,” Michael said again. Bill hoisted himself up onto the table. “Good.” Marge and Cody stayed silent while Michael noted Bill’s blood pressure and listened to his heartbeat. “Your blood pressure’s lower. Medication’s working,” Michael finally said. “You are taking them like you’re supposed to? And you’re following my other instructions?”

  “He’s doing everything you told him just like he does everything I tell him,” Marge confirmed.

  “Ma-a-arge,” Bill drawled. “Don’t give me away now. Yes, I’m taking those confounded pills.”

  “It’s for your own good, you old coot,” she said.

  “Ma-a-arge.”

  Michael shook his head at both of them while Cody laughed. T
hey put on quite a show. “Bill,” he began. Then he glanced at Cody again. Cody made him see the humor here in its proper perspective. He walked over to his stubborn patient and slapped him on the back. “Bill, you’re in good shape. You’re eighty-four years old, you’ve got a heart that’s getting stronger, your cholesterol level is low and it’s clear that you’re moving fast enough to keep Marge on her toes. I’m not going to lecture you about this, but keep the coffee down to two cups a day if you possibly can.”

  “I can do that, Doc,” Bill said, guffawing. “I surely can.”

  Michael and Cody talked about Bill later on that evening on the way to Michael’s first therapy session with his son. “Dad,” Cody said as Michael lifted him out of the car and carried him to the gym. “That guy was funny.”

  “Oh, he’s a character, all right.”

  Cody’s arms clamped around the back of Michael’s neck. “I liked him.”

  “Me, too,” Michael said, glad to think of something besides the upcoming therapy. For weeks he’d wanted to be a part of this. Now that the time had come, he felt totally inept. He’d performed therapy with Cody often alone in his room. But he’d never been able to arrange his schedule so he could take part in the groups. Jennie had always done it. “A doctor’s not supposed to have favorites but I’ve got to admit Bill’s one of mine. He always makes me laugh when I need it most. He’s a good friend.”

  “His wife made me laugh, too. She ought to do like Mom. Mom always calls the plumber when we get a leak under our sink.”

  Michael’s warning signals shot up. He wasn’t about to let himself be drawn off in this direction. “Bill was very sick a while back. But he had surgery and now he’s doing much better.”

  “Sorta like me, Dad?” Cody asked as they bobbed along.

  “Yeah,” Michael answered. “Sort of like you.”

  Andy met them in the hallway and took Cody’s face in her hands. “Boy, have we missed you around here lately. How are things at home? How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling real good. Dad took me to his office today and I got to meet all the patients.”

  Andy winked up at Michael and instantly put him at ease. “What a great way to spend your first week out of the hospital. Visiting a doctor’s office.”

  “Oh, it was fun. I got to meet Bill Josephs and Dad checked him all over and his wife kept teasing him because he wouldn’t fix things…”

  Other children began gathering for the session. “Come on in, you guys,” Andy called, beckoning to them. Turning back to Cody, she said, “Mark said you did great at swimming.”

  “It was fun.”

  Michael found a chair where he could set Cody down. For the next twenty minutes he watched while Andy showed each child how to paste funny ears and noses on pieces of paper to form faces. Next she led each of them in a rigorous clown pantomime. Michael was laughing and Cody was sweating by the time they finished.

  “Now it’s time for the parents to join in,” Andy said, nodding at the adults. “Bring your son or daughter over here and find a comfortable place on the mats.” She turned on a CD of music and instructed them. “Start with the arms. Like this.”

  Jennie had spent hours writing down these directions for him. He had his written instructions beside him now. But reading directions and actually performing hands-on therapy in the middle of a room full of people were two entirely different things. He grasped Cody’s leg just atop the knee and began to maneuver it. He moved the leg again…again…before his son cried out. “Ouch, Dad! You’re hurting me.” He was shocked to see Cody biting his lip, trying to hold the tears back.

  Stricken, Michael dropped Cody’s leg. Around him the other parents continued to work with their children’s muscles. “Cody, I’m sorry, son.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  A light film of sweat covered the little boy’s face.

  “Your mother never would have let that happen. She knows how to do this better than I do.”

  “Dad, don’t worry. It didn’t hurt that much.”

  “Kiddo. I’m really sorry.”

  Andy appeared at Cody’s side. “Need help over here?”

  “I’m hurting him,” Michael said.

  “Here. Let me show you.” The physical therapist knelt and took Cody’s leg in two competent hands, rotating his ankle just a bit. “When you’re doing a group exercise like this one, you want to work the muscle at this angle. See? Like this.” The leg moved better for her, like a glider on a track, to and fro, to and fro. “Now. You try it.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll hurt him.” Oh, the great doctor who gave shots and pushed on sore muscles and gave more than his fair share of stitches! The great doctor who always said, “This won’t hurt but a minute!”

  “It always seems scarier than it is,” Andy reassured him.

  During the remainder of the session, Andy had to help him through six more exercises. That night, while Cody lay sleeping, his breath coming in light, even waves, his mouth slightly open, Michael sat staring at the wall across from him, his Bible unopened at his side. He felt ashamed of himself, that he’d fought so hard to keep Cody, that in the end it had been so easy, that he had been thinking of his own needs when Cody needed so much from him.

  Father, even in following my faith, have I been relying on my own pride?

  Michael knew now, more than anything, what he had to do. He waited that night until Cody’s sleep became deep and heavy before he summoned the courage to telephone her. He sat in the huge chair beside the hearth and dialed the number from memory, a number that once had been his own.

  It rang four times before she answered. “Hello?”

  “Jennie.” He hesitated. “It’s me.”

  Total silence. Then a quick “Hello, Michael.”

  He didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how to say it.

  She sensed his wariness and suddenly panicked. “Michael? Is he all right? What’s wrong?”

  “Cody’s fine, Jen. Just fine.” But no thanks to me, he thought wryly.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared me. It always scares me now when someone calls.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  His heart started pounding. Why had he done this? Why had he been so all-consumed with this crazy idea of calling her? Without confessing to her how totally inadequate he felt, he had absolutely nothing else to say. “I wish we could go back to Six Flags,” he said at last.

  “Me, too,” she said quietly.

  The silence came again. “I don’t have a sense of my own competence anymore,” he said. “I don’t know what God is trying to show me.”

  “Michael.” He heard it in her voice, then. She was surprised he had confessed such a thing to her.

  So he opened up to her, knowing he couldn’t turn back. “I got lost in the group therapy session today,” he said simply. “I got into that place and I didn’t know how to do anything.”

  Jennie set the hand towel aside, gripped the phone against her ear. “You’ll do better after you practice with him.” She was honestly saddened that the scheduling and the split-up of therapy had worked to Michael’s disadvantage. She couldn’t really picture Michael being incompetent at anything. It shocked her to hear him say he didn’t know what God was doing. He’d always worn his newfound faith like a badge of honor. He always acted like he could do no wrong, now that he was a Christian.

  He sighed, a long, lonely sound that immediately revealed to her how lost he felt.

  There was no stopping it. She knew now what she would do. He needs me, she thought with a triumphant thrumming of her heart. Everything else might be lost to us. But he needs me for this.

  Her question, when it came, came in a whisper as hushed as the flicker of a bird’s wings. And she knew, even as she asked, that she was making herself vulnerable to him again.

  “You want to go together on Friday? I could stand beside you and give you the crash Cody course.”

  She pictur
ed him rocking from nervousness in his huge, comfortable recliner and now stopping, leaning forward. “What about Cody?”

  “You’ll have to explain to him that I’m coming to help him and not to be with you. You’ve got to make sure he understands that. Just tell him it’s because you did so badly in class today and you want to do better. Tell him it’s the only thing we could think of to help you.”

  He gave a little humph of indignation and said softly, “I’ll make sure he understands that much. We’ll have a man-to-man talk.”

  “Be gentle with him,” she said, still quietly. “That’s it, then.”

  “Are you sure this is the best thing to do, Jennie?”

  “Yes,” she said, drawn by his humility, knowing full well everything she was risking. “I’m sure.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As Jennie stood beside the window waiting for Michael and Cody to pick her up, she felt as if she’d stepped into a bottomless chasm that might swallow her whole.

  It had seemed perfect and right, though it had been difficult, when they’d spent time together at the hospital and made decisions for Cody when he was ill. Today, however, signaled a new phase in their relationship with each other, and with their son. Today each of them would stand in the other’s territory, side by side, and Cody would see them doing it.

  She started when she saw the BMW round the corner. She grabbed her purse, trying to quiet the loud thudding of her heart.

  “Hey, Mom!” Cody called as she climbed in behind him.

  “How are ya, kid?” she asked, kissing him. “You look bigger than you looked the other day.” She glanced at Michael’s reflection in the rearview mirror. She saw the gratefulness in his eyes and didn’t know how to respond. “Are you two ready for this?”

  “Yep!” Cody said happily.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Michael agreed. And Jennie decided that Michael sounded happy, too.

  “Good.”

  Cody jabbered all the way to the hospital. He talked about swimming and spending the night with Taylor and his new friends at the pool. He talked about the golden Labrador puppy, Jehosophat, who had moved in next door.