Peggy was putting away her things when a man came to the door,
"Miss Tomorrow Jones, I'm here to take you to rehab," he announced, drawing her attention away from her mother's fussing around her room putting away her things. She figures she better pay attention so she could find her belongings later.
She had been sitting on her bed in the new place watching her mother scurry around making sure she had everything put away where Tomorrow could find it.
Eight weeks of lying in bed had made her weak, but she was ready to get out and start her new life. She had a degree in marketing that she never used. She and Billy had been together the whole last year of school. Him with a business degree and she with a marketing degree and they accomplished nothing once they graduated. His father downed him for any job he found, and he did the same to her. We can do better, he would urge, and she would quit and spend time with him. They lived in the starter home his parents built on land east of town. His parents paid the bills, and they lived sparingly. He had a truck his parents gave him for graduation, and she had her sports car she bought with the inheritance she received after her father's death.
They lived under their noses under their thumbs. A dozen times, his father, John, told him he could do better. She was sure he had told him the same about her. His attitude had changed after one loud blow out at the big house. She only heard raised voices and slamming doors. When Billy came home, he was vicious and rude, and he stayed that way for a year. She got glimpses of the old him but only glimpses these past few months. She left him twice and he begged her to come back. Then three weeks later, she was ready to go again. Now they are rolling her down a hall to be able to walk again after he showed her how much he loved her.
How prophetic this was, she did need to walk on her own again. She can't depend on anyone to save her. She had been a fool depending on him and his parents for everything. When her father died, she received a trust fund, and they spent it freely. Now she is alone and only has about a hundred thousand left. Her beautiful sports car is gone. Her jerk is gone. Moving back home to my mother is depressing. She was thinking when a handsome smile brought her out of her funk. "Oh, Gentry you have such bad timing," Tomorrow advised as she was pushed toward him.
"I see that now, but I had to stop by," he said, squatting in front of the wheelchair. He told her, "You look wonderful."
"Thank you, kind Sir. This fine young gentleman is taking me to therapy," she told him, waving her hand towards the man pushing her wheelchair.
"Yes, lunch time is a good time to visit or later in the evening," the young man suggested.
He smiled at Tomorrow. "Could I come and see you tonight?"
"It might be better tomorrow. She is going to be exhausted this evening. We work them hard," the therapist told him.
"No Gentry come tonight if nothing else you could talk to me until I fall asleep," she told him, reaching out her hand he took it and stood by her side to walk along with them.
"Ok, I'll come back tonight." He bent at the waist and kissed her forehead, "tonight."
She watched him walk away as long as she could. He has a nice ass, he is tall, straight, and a handsome man she ascertained. The helper rolled her into a room filled with old people and strange looking equipment. Everywhere she looked, she could see some type of frailty and disfigurement. A woman sat in the back with a similar scar on her head, but she was drooling, and her eyes were vacant. Half of her hair was cut off but grown out longer than hers.
Tomorrow jerked around in her wheelchair and looked at the man pushing her. "This is not me, I'm not that bad, am I?" Tomorrow questioned the fear in her eyes. Was she living in a fantasy world and didn't know she was messed up?
He stopped pushing her and walked to the front of the chair crouching down he said, "Miss Jones, No you're not as bad. Some of these people have been here for months. Our plan for you is to have you out of here in three weeks. All you need is to get your strength back. We also want to make sure there are no lasting effects from the accident. We all expect great things from you," the man assured her and patted her knee. A very skinny knee.
Tomorrow was already a willowy girl, tall, thin, with long blond hair. People teased her that she should go to New York and become a model. That didn't appeal to her at all. She had never been one to do drugs and that world was filled with them. Besides, what would a Texas girl do in the Big Apple? The idea scared her to death. But now she was too skinny and had to eat and gain back to her old skinny self.
They put her to work. Three different people introduced themselves and gave her different exercises to do. Slowly the room emptied, and a young black girl approached, "Miss Jones, would you like to come to lunch."
"Yes, I would. I was beginning to believe that part of gaining my weight back was just a dream," Tomorrow joked as the girl pushed her to the dining hall.
It was a large room nicely decorated in a green and mauve color scheme, very nineties. It was also full of old people. Now Tomorrow didn't have a problem with old people, she just wasn't used to dealing with them. No grandparents on either side.
"Mr. Cabot, would you like to have some younger company?" The girl asked as she rounded the table. A handsome man with piercing blue eyes looked angry at first, but that floated away at the sight of Tomorrow. She smiled tentatively unsure if she wanted to sit with him. "Mr. Cabot, this is Miss Jones. She came this morning. I thought it might be nice to talk to someone your own age."
"How kind, I thought you were bringing another one I had to take care of."
"Mr. Cabot, you didn't have to take care of Violet, she was capable of feeding herself. I think she just wanted your attention."
He smiled, "maybe," he said, looking across the room at a younger woman slowly raising her fork to her mouth.
"I believe I can feed myself; I would like to eat with you if it is Ok, everyone else looks scary," Tomorrow said looking around the room.
"You're right, they are and with any luck we will look like them someday."
He turned his head to scan the room and had a scar on his head, but much smaller than Tomorrow's. The aid pushed her up and handed her a menu and a pen. "Just circle what you want, and I will bring it to you."
Her dining companion watched as she circled a number of things, she went to circle a dessert, and he cleared his throat. Tomorrow looked up and he shook his head. "Mr. Cabot, she may like the fruit cup," the aid admonished.
"It is canned and gross," he told her with a reassuring shake of the head.
"Thank you for the warning," Tomorrow circles a cookie and hands the paper to the Aid.
"I'll be right back."
Everyone else was eating except Mr. Cabot and her, "Are you not eating today."
"Yes, they just haven't brought my food out yet. I usually come late, and they know to make me a big portion. I have been known to throw a few fits," he told her and looked embarrassed at his behavior, "they feed me like I'm eighty-two and I'm not," he told her, watching the door for his food to come out. "I'm wasting away in this place," he complained.
"So, what happened to you?"
"Oil rig accident," he said, reaching up to his scar. "A pulley came loose and conked me on my head. Yours looks much worse than mine," he told her looking at her scar.
"It seems like it. My car went off the road and down into a creek."
"That does sound worse. You just got the conk on the head?"
"No, I broke my arm and was in a coma for a couple of months. But I'm much better now. I just need to get my strength back."
"Yeah, that is me, strength and coordination. Mine seems a little off. I reach for something and it's not exactly where I think it is. Poor Violet got poked with a fork a few times," he told her with a laugh.
"How long have you been here," Tomorrow asked as his food was brought out. It was piled high. He looked satisfied at the portion.
"A few weeks and I believe I have a few more to go."
She watched him place his hands on the edge of the table and concentrate on reaching for his fork. Considering her injury, she was lucky she didn't have those problems. Mr. Cabot was a handsome guy who looked like he had been a strong, hardworking man. He had the residue of a dark tan poking out of his tee shirt. She could see on his arms as he moved the whiter skin under his shirt, the way his blond hair was sun bleached, and it was growing out much darker. He sat in a wheelchair and rocked back and forth. He looked like he was frustrated, expelling his nervous energy. He wanted to get up and go, but he couldn't. She knew how he felt, but she had footrests on her wheelchair and couldn't move herself even back and forth in frustration, but it looked like it would help.
"Mr. Cabot, my name is Tomorrow Jones if you like you can call me by my first name."
He set his fork down; it seemed he couldn't do two things at once.
"Tomorrow, hum nice name, I envisioned Lorie or Lisa. Mine is Dante."
"Oh, I love that name Dante, Dante yes, it is a strong name. I like yours; it suits you," she gushed. She didn't know why but she was enjoying the conversation and his company immensely.
Dante sat up straight and smiled. "Thank you, I'm glad you're here, you have brightened my day."
"No, thank you I might have had to feed Violet if you hadn't let me sit here," they both laughed. People turned to see what was so funny and they laughed again.
The aid brought Tomorrow her food and she dug in. Considering the liquid diet, she was on in the hospital, this was heaven. She gave a little hum and sat back in the wheelchair, chewing something at this point she didn't care what it was. "This is the first solid food I have had in two months or more," she said, savoring the taste.
"My, you have been sick," he nodded and picked his fork back up.
"I was left for dead for three days."
"Oh, I remember you, your boyfriend ran you off the road."
"Yeah, some boyfriend. He cared oh so much about me," Tomorrow said, sounding disgusted, she stabbed at her green beans wishing it was Billy's face.
"What a jerk. If you were my girl and you left me, I would have said oh well and let you go. There is no need for violence."
Tomorrow smiled and laughed a little. "Thanks, I guess. At least show a little sadness, I was a good girlfriend."
"You know what I mean. No one should die over a breakup," he told her and went back to eating. "I hear he tried to hire a hitman to kill you while he was still in jail."
Moving her potatoes around on her plate she said, "yeah, I heard that too. I guess I didn't know him as well as I thought. He was rude, sometimes taking his frustration out on me, but never violent. I don't know I guess he snapped or something," Tomorrow told Dante deep in thought. How had she gotten so wrapped up in a man like that.
"Well, as I understand he won't be getting out of prison for a long time."
"That is good."
"I have to go." Dante said as he sat his glass of water down a little too hard. "Whoops, I hope to see you at dinner. Don't come too early, they have all the really bad off ones here around 5 o'clock. If you come after 6 o'clock it is a better atmosphere around here."
"Ok, I'll see you around 6 o'clock, then, it was nice to meet you," Tomorrow called out as he rolled away. A pretty young therapist stood by the dining hall door and smiled as he rolled towards her. It looks like he has charmed all the girls around here.
*
"Tomorrow sweetie, so glad to find you," she glanced up and Doctor Kennard stood at the side of her table.
"Oh Hi, I'm having lunch, join me."
"I only have a second, we had a lull in emergency so I thought I would run down here and see you."
She looked him in the face, and he was sweating. "Oh, silly, you shouldn't have done that, it is too hot," she told him, passing him a glass of water and her napkin. "Well, it didn't seem bad at first," he told her, dropping down in the seat and taking a big gulp of water. "So how is it going?"
"Good I worked out this morning and they are coming to get me soon to keep going."
"You look good, you have more color in your cheeks."
"And you have too much. Don't do that again, you'll have a stroke, and I will never get my night," she told him, reaching out her hand and cupping his cheek as he breathed deeply. "Save your energy I have been told I'm too demanding," she told him and ran her thumb under his ear.
"You are a bad girl."
"No, I'm not, but I would like to be," she smiled and brought her hand down and picked up her cookie, "want a bite," she asked, taking a bite with a sexy grin.
"Your trouble," he said and looked at his phone at a text that just chimed.
"Hospital?" Tomorrow asked.
"Yeah, I have an incoming injury, I have to go."
"I'll see you tomorrow?" She suggested.
"Not tonight?" His plan was to come and see her.
"My family is coming," she lied, she had to quit playing this game with him because she really was not interested. It was fun to play with him though.
"Are you up early?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe give it a few days and let me find out my schedule."
"OK I'll call you on Wednesday night and hope to see you."
He cupped her cheeks and kissed her lightly. "Yum sugar cookie," he turned and ran out of the room.
He turned back and flashed her a bright smile and disappeared down the hall. How cute Tomorrow thought, but his kiss didn't set off a spark as Gentry's did. Maybe it is the place, the time. She will have to give it another chance. She knows her mother would be happy if she hooked up with a doctor.