She hesitated. “Am I?”

  He nodded. “You are. People say things all the time, but, in your case, I think you really mean it.”

  “I do,” she said. “I would think everybody here does.”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “I don’t have to deal with everybody. Shane is a huge part of my world—and you of course—but outside of you two and maybe a couple others, I don’t deal with a whole lot of the actual staff here,” he noted. “In a way, it’s too bad because I’m sure other very special people are here that I would enjoy meeting, but there’s also only so many I can keep track of and can work with at the same time.”

  She laughed. “Otherwise it’s information overload.”

  “And emotional overload,” he added. “When you add one more person to your world, you’re also adding their hopes and their dreams and their wishes and their likes and dislikes,” he explained. “So you have to add people carefully.”

  “Is this because you’ve been discarding other people, as we talked about?”

  He looked at her and shrugged. “I hate to see it as a discard,” he began, “but I’ve certainly been thinking about who and what I’ve been calling a friend. And realizing that a lot of the people I would have claimed were friends just aren’t. I haven’t had anything to do with them in years, and even now I don’t feel as if I could necessarily pick up the phone and call them because so much time’s gone by.”

  “Right, so then they’re not necessarily friends.”

  “Exactly, and, if they’re not friends, then I put them into the acquaintance category, and that’s a whole different story because it means I would have to get to know who they are again. And I have to actually want to do that.”

  “Which you don’t really want to do right now, is that it?”

  “Right, that’s not my focus right now,” he said, with a smile. “I’m still trying to deal with all the rest of this stuff happening.”

  She laughed. “And there’s no pressure to do it now either.”

  “You’re right. I was looking at all these people who, I thought, were friends, and a couple in particular who, once they found out about my accident, even though they were also in the navy, I wouldn’t consider my friends now,” he admitted, “because, let’s just say, they didn’t respond positively.”

  “And sometimes,” she replied, with a slight warning, “you have to understand that they don’t know how to treat you. You’re now the one who has changed,” she pointed out, “and not everybody’s good with change. Yet nobody gets away without having some changes in their lives.”

  “That’s an early lesson, isn’t it?” he asked, with a smile. “When you have a major accident, you need somebody out there who warns you that everybody sees you now as something other than human.”

  “That sounds a bit harsh,” she noted, “yet definitely you’ve changed. You’re now injured, and that is a condition all on its own.”

  “I prefer to say able-bodied,” he corrected.

  “I like that too,” she agreed. “So many people here are used to it, so much so that, if we see people in town on crutches or in a wheelchair, it doesn’t bother us. Yet, for many other people, they see mostly the crutches or the wheelchair. Those people have never encountered such injuries as that and don’t know what to do with that. Most of the time they feel embarrassed because they want to actually see what you have for an arm, but they know that they can’t do it without staring, so then they keep casting these furtive glances to try and get a better look.”

  “And yet wouldn’t it be nice if they would just say, Hey, can I take a close look at your arm?”

  “If that happened to you, what would you say?” she asked curiously.

  “I don’t know. It’s never happened,” he stated, with a smile. “But, if I thought I could get a normal response from people, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if I had a Kat design, I would want to show it off.”

  “True.” She had to smile at that.

  As it was, an incident happened later that week that made everybody in the center stop, and, in her case, smile. She walked out to the front lobby to see a family waiting to visit with a resident here. She smiled at them, as she moved into Dani’s office. “Wow, that waiting room is full.”

  “Yeah, they’re here to see Benji,” Dani shared.

  As Alba stood here in the doorway, she cast another glance at the family and noted that the little girl didn’t have an arm. She was carrying a booklet under her one arm and chatting away to her mother. “Oh, that’s nice to see,” Alba said.

  Dani came to the door, took one look, and then nodded. “Right? That tyke was born that way, so it’s an easier adaptation. But it’ll never be easy,” she murmured.

  “No, you’re right,” Alba agreed. “Now, if we could get Wesley up to that level of self-confidence, up to the level of this little girl, we would be doing just fine.”

  “Maybe you should call him down and have him see her.”

  “I don’t know if that would be a benefit or not,” Alba replied. “I suspect that he would be both upset and happy.”

  As it was, Wesley walked down the hallway on his prosthetic, busy looking at his e-tablet. When he looked up and saw her, he headed to her. “Hey, I came to talk to the admin because I’m having trouble with my e-tablet here.” He held it up, looked around at the waiting room, and his gaze landed on the little girl.

  The little girl looked up at him, beamed, put down her book, and raced over to him. “You look just like me,” she cried out.

  He stared at her and then slowly nodded. “You know something? I think I do. Although maybe I’m luckier than you,” he added and pointed to his leg.

  She stared at it in fascination. She looked up and asked, “Could I touch it?”

  “Sure,” he said. He looked at her missing arm. “What happened to your arm?”

  “My arm? Oh, nothing. This is the way God made me.”

  From Dani’s office, Alba watched the conversation and saw almost the physical blow to Wesley’s heart when the little girl had said that. Alba walked over casually and joined the conversation. “Hey, I hear you’re here to see Benji, your dad.”

  She looked up and smiled. “Did you see his leg?” she asked in that same chatty voice, pointing at Wesley’s new prosthetic. “Isn’t that cool?”

  “It is cool, and he’ll get something for his arm too, but it won’t be anywhere near as cool as that.”

  The little girl nodded. “I have a couple at home. I don’t really like them though.”

  Wesley asked in a soft tone, “Why not?”

  “Because they don’t work. They’re okay,” she muttered. “Sometimes I wear them when we go out to stop people from staring, but, most of the time, I don’t care enough,” she said, with a shrug. “People stare anyway.”

  “And does it bother you?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, it doesn’t bother me. My friends don’t care,” she shared, “and my family doesn’t care. They love me just the way I am.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds like you have a special family.”

  She looked up at him. “Doesn’t your family love you the way you are?”

  Such sorrow filled her tone, probably expecting Wesley to give her the wrong answer, and she would burst into tears for him. He gazed at her and shook his head. “My family loves me just the way I am.”

  “Good then,” she replied, “so it doesn’t matter, does it?”

  And, with that, one of the nurses called out to the family, and her mother said, “Annabelle, come on.”

  Annabelle waved and said, “Bye.” Then she raced after her mom.

  Wesley turned and looked at Alba. “Dear Lord, talk about messages from the angels.”

  And then obviously shaken, he turned and slowly walked back to his room.

  *

  In his room, Wesley sat down on the edge of the bed, almost consumed with what he had just heard and seen. Why had it taken him so long to understand, and yet that little girl got it right away? Then again, she was living with that missing arm, living with the outcome of how God had made her. He loved that phrase, loved that she was totally okay with the way she was. Obviously there were times when she would have gotten frustrated or angry or upset, but she didn’t let it hold her back.

  Yet Wesley couldn’t see that it was just one challenge. He still had his full faculties. He could still walk. He could still function in so many ways, and yet it had taken a little one-armed girl in the waiting area, asking if she could look at his leg and could touch his prosthetic for Wesley to see the naturalness of what she looked like. And her joy when she saw somebody else who looked like her. They were a minority in this world and a minority that he hadn’t asked to be a part of, but now that he was here, he had absolutely no reason to be ashamed of it. He let out a heavy sigh. “What a fool,” he murmured.

  “Want to talk about it?” Alba asked.

  He looked up to see her standing at the doorway. He smiled a little ruefully. “Nothing really to talk about,” he muttered. “I just need to process.”

  “Processing’s good.”

  “Annabelle’s adorable, isn’t she?” he asked.

  “She is, indeed,” Alba murmured. “Her dad’s a patient here.”

  “Ah, and will her dad look like her too?”

  “Yeah. When I was talking to Dani, she mentioned that her father lost an arm and both legs.”

  “Right,” Wesley noted, with a wince. “That would probably help them both bond very well together.”

  She nodded. “When you think about it, that little girl can help her dad a lot. Help him to adjust. Help him to see who he is now.”

  “She’s good at that,” he admitted. “I feel like such a fool.” That confession burst out of him. “I’ve been sitting here, whining about my missing arm, and she’s had just one arm for all her life. And you know how mean schoolkids are.”

  Alba nodded slowly. “They can be brutal,” she agreed. “Any group can be, but they don’t have to be.”

  “Right, and she wears her arm sometimes when they go out,” he shared, “but most of the time she can’t be bothered.”

  “Meaning that, in other words, she’s already adjusted, and, if people have things to say that she doesn’t like to hear, she ignores them.”

  He smiled and nodded. “That’s an attitude I need to cultivate.”

  “It is one you’re cultivating,” she pointed out, with a bright smile. “You just aren’t aware of it yet, but you’ll be fine.”

  “I guess,” he replied. “And every time I feel sorry for myself, all I need to do is picture Annabelle.”

  She laughed. “Well, I’m glad Annabelle came today then. Seems it was a worthwhile visit from our perspective, even if not from yours.”

  “Oh, it was a worthwhile perspective on mine too,” he declared. “If nothing else, it’s a reality shake-up that I needed.”

  “Good,” she whispered.

  As she went to walk away, he asked, “Hey, you up for going to the pool later tonight? I feel as if I need to go.”

  “Sure, anytime. Maybe just buzz me when you want to meet up.”

  “Sounds good—and thanks.”

  She turned to smile at him. “You know that you don’t need to say thanks, right?”

  “Maybe not,” he replied, “but, right now, it feels very much as if I do need to say thanks. So I might overdo it for a while, but it’s, again, a process.”

  She smiled. “In that case, it’s all good.”

  Chapter 13

  Later that evening, as Alba walked to the pool, after arranging a time to meet Wesley, she stopped to look up at the sky. From the pool she heard Wesley call out to her. She pointed up and said, “A storm’s coming.”

  “Good, hopefully some rain comes with it. We could use it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right there. It’s definitely been a little bit too dry.”

  “It’s always dry,” he noted, and then he yawned.

  She looked at him. “Sounds as if you’ve had a full day.”

  “I think it’s the emotions as much as anything,” he admitted. “Who would’ve thought meeting a little girl would send my feelings off the wall?”

  Alba chuckled. “Annabelle was quite a sweetheart, wasn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, with a sigh. “Just one of those sweethearts, with some pretty powerful messages.”

  “That’s how angels come,” she agreed, with a gentle smile.

  He nodded. “I just hadn’t really noticed before, but I got the message this time. … Come on in and enjoy the water. It’s a beautiful evening, at least for the moment.”

  “If the storm breaks overhead, and it gets ugly, we’ll have to get out.”

  “That’s okay. All the more reason for you to get in here soon.”

  And, with that, she dropped her towel and stepped into the water and dove under. When she surfaced, he was floating alongside her. “You’ve become quite adept in here.”

  “Right. Now I want to see Annabelle in here and see what she does.”

  “You know something? I’m sure she’ll move through the water like a dolphin,” Alba guessed, “if not a porpoise, if not a fish. There’ll always be somebody like her out there to show you the way.”

  “But you don’t always get the message that easily,” he noted, with a good-natured complaining tone.

  “And you have to recognize the message when it comes,” she added, laughing. “In this case you got the message.”

  “Wow, did I ever. If I thought you had set that up, I would be mad, but I know you didn’t.”

  “No, I sure didn’t. And I wouldn’t have set it up,” she stated. “However, if arranging to talk to somebody else who’s missing an arm would have given you that paradigm shift in your viewpoint, I would have done it in a heartbeat.”

  He smiled. “And like so many others in this place, you’re very good about doing what you need to do for others.”

  “It’s why I’m here,” she said. “Helping you to adapt, to adjust, to become the best you can be. How could I do anything less?”

  “Not everybody’s quite so selfless,” he noted. “Not everybody is quite so willing to step out and to do more than is required.”

  “It’s not more than is required, but it is nice that I can do something to help. Not everybody wants to help others. Not everybody is here to be with somebody,” she noted. “However, it’s nice when you get an opportunity to help somebody turn on that lightbulb.”

  He chuckled. “And there we go again because I’m part of that lightbulb comment, aren’t I?”

  “Let’s just say you had a lightbulb that needed turning on,” she said, with a smile. “And thankfully Annabelle came by today as an angel in disguise.”

  He nodded as he kicked gently, floating alongside her.

  “Just look at yourself now,” she said. “You’re so relaxed in the water, so comfortable, and it’s a far cry from the way you started.”

  “At the time, I was petrified I would sink and afraid I would never swim again.”

  “And it’s all about just getting comfortable in the new reality,” she murmured.

  He nodded. “Like so many other things in life,” he added.

  “It’s all about accepting the changes that are happening and adapting,” she said, “being flexible, seeing what comes up, what happens, and going with it.”

  “After the emotional hit I got earlier today, I should sleep well tonight,” he shared. “Just so many emotions were involved today. And releasing all those emotions wore me out.”

  “It can be harder than anything,” she said. “Just knowing that all those emotions are flowing can make life pretty special. It can also be a catalyst to other changes, other things that you need to accept, other issues in your life that you hadn’t been quite ready to look into.”

  He looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Not sure I have too much more I can deal with,” he replied, “at least not tonight.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said, her smile even brighter. “Just think about it. Once you open that door, so many things can happen. But not today, not tonight,” she repeated. “You get a reprieve and a chance to assimilate this new you.”

  “Good. In that case I’m almost ready to call it quits.”

  Just then came a clap of thunder overhead.

  She laughed. “Time for us to go anyway.” She waited until he got out and got into his wheelchair and asked, “No leg tonight?”

  “No, I didn’t want to put all that stuff back on. So it was all about just getting down here and enjoying the water.”

  “Good, that sounds like progress too, knowing when not to wear the prosthetic.”

  He laughed, and, as he slowly wheeled away, he called out, “Have a good night.”

  “You too,” she murmured, smiling as if she hadn’t smiled in a very long time.

  When progress happened, it was special, and, when progress happened to somebody you cared about, it was beyond special. And, with that, she headed back to her apartment on the property, a bright smile still on her face.

  *

  Wesley slept better last night, to put it mildly. When he got up the next morning, everything felt relaxed, almost settled, in his mind. Such an odd feeling, and he didn’t even care to put his leg on because he knew that he would be doing a ton of exercises with Shane later. So Wesley hopped into his wheelchair, ready to roll down to breakfast. As he went to leave his room. he remembered the pouch that Alba had sewn for him, and he rolled back inside, secured the pouch in place, tucked in his cell phone, adding his notepad and a pen because he always wanted to jot down notes. He admired the fact that the pouch was as useful as it was and then rolled his way toward the dining room.

  As he got in line, Dennis looked up at him. “Bright and early this morning.”

  “Yep,” Wesley said, “and hungry.”

  “Good man.” Dennis gave him a big smile. “Go grab a table.”

  “I wanted to get food first.”

  “You have to wait a moment,” he said, “unless you’re hungry right now.”

  “No, I could grab a coffee first. I didn’t realize I was that early.”