Refugees - 2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

David’s first few evenings at the physical therapy office were quiet, except for the first one. He was un-packing his office when he ran across a picture of himself and Andy. He glared at it. “You lying… drama queen! You bitch!” He ripped the photo from its frame and tossed it into the trash.

David closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. “He isn’t worth it anymore. He left me. It’s over with.” He picked up the empty frame and slid it into his top desk drawer. It’ll be okay, he told himself. I’ll be fine.

He’d been at the clinic now for two weeks. He’d developed a good routine and begun a steady diet of coffee. He brought in a radio to listen to talk programs. He loved the shows, especially the political ones. They served as a wonderful distraction for the heartbroken man. On this night, he sat quietly in his office; it was 7 o’clock. Only one more hour to go. His emerald eyes stared off into the distance, completely barren. His face was unshaven for the past three days and he’d grown quite a beard. He felt calm, very tired, but oddly placid. It was like the calm before the storm.

Suddenly there was a knock at the window. David was startled from his chair. He ran over to the reception area and opened the glass door a mere two inches. He peered at the customer.

“Can I help you”? David asked in a tired tone.

The man tried to be friendly. “Yeah, hi. Dr. Nathan Clark referred me here for some hand therapy.”

David frowned and looked down at the appointment book on the desk. “Do you have an appointment?”

The man’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, I thought my doctor’s office made it for me. Can you see me as a walk-in right now?”

David held back an amused smile. “I guess I could do that. I need to do an evaluation first. Here, fill this out and then come on back”. David handed him a clipboard with the generic paperwork attached.

“Okay. Got a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Here. Just knock on the window when you’re done.”

The man nodded. “Sure thing. Oh, hey, what’s your name?”

David paused for a moment. He felt like he was asleep. “What? Oh yeah. David. David Griffin.”

The patient smiled back. “Hi David, I’m Robert Marshall.”

“Nice to meet you. Well, just lemme know when you’re done.” David slapped the glass window shut.

Robert sighed, sat down, and filled out the forms.

About ten minutes later, David brought him back to the exam room. Robert took in the therapist’s height. He was a tall guy to his mere 5’10”. His blond hair was mussed. He had at least three days’ growth of whiskers on his chiseled face. His shirt had the first two buttons open, which revealed his pale, muscular chest. His extremely pleasing appearance was overshadowed by the overwhelming stench of coffee. It looked like he’d been sleeping at his desk. Robert hopped up on the exam table and tried to look past the flaws. He was very attracted to the man; but he knew there must be something very wrong in his life for him to look so slipshod. Using his diplomacy skills, he tried to engage the therapist in an actual conversation.

“Working the late shift?”

“Uh-huh,” David replied in a monotone.

“Must be boring as hell.”

David shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Robert rolled his eyes. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Been a therapist long?”

“A while.”

Robert sighed and pursed his lips. He knew something was bothering the man, it was clear as day. In the hurt state he was in himself, Robert had an insatiable desire to hear someone else’s troubles other than his own. He tried humor. “Do you know any complete sentences”?

David stared at him coldly for a moment. Robert could see the pain in the emerald eyes. He felt the eyes were cold and barren. No life at all.

“I have… issues”.

“Well I can see that. I have major ones myself. I’m a good listener….”

David raised a brow for a second, but let it disappear. “I… no. No, I don’t know you at all.”

“Well, I think we’ll be working together awhile. Maybe later,” Robert offered.

David shrugged. “Yeah. Later.”

The exam continued. Robert’s fingers were badly sprained; he couldn’t make a fist at all. David recommended at least a month’s worth of therapy. Robert smiled to himself. The evaluation was over.

David walked to his computer to set up the next appointment. “This time good for you?”

“Yeah, I don’t work late. What day do you have open?”

David paged through a couple of screens and finally answered. “Two days from now, how’s that?”

“Fine with me.”

“Well, we’re done for tonight. Take it easy until then. See you in two days.”

Robert smiled lightly. “See you then. Good night, David.”

“Night.”

Two days later, Robert showed up right on time. Again, it was quiet as a tomb. He rapped on the glass door. “David? I’m here. It’s Robert.”

“Oh, hey. How ya doing? How are the fingers?”

“They hurt pretty badly tonight. Had to do a fair share of typing today.”

David directed him to a therapy bed; Robert sat down. “Let’s see what we can do for that.”

Robert took in David’s appearance again. He looked far better than he did that first night. His hair wasn’t mussed, he was clean-shaven, and he looked awake. David held Robert’s hands gently. He was a real pro. Robert found the smoothness of the therapist’s hands soothing. Robert was about to ask a question, but David cut him off.

“So, married?”

Robert was startled. He replied honestly. “Uh, no. Not anymore. I was engaged briefly, but it didn’t work out.”

David met his gaze for the first time. He felt a connection at last. “I’m sorry.”

Robert smiled at him. He felt that David sounded sincere. “It’s fine. How about you?”

David sighed. “Not much to tell. Always a groomsman and never a groom. Well, I was once, but it was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry. Can I ask what happened?”

David hesitated. After a long moment, he scowled and put Robert’s hand down. “Oh no! I poured out my soul to my ex. He threw it in the fire. I won’t go through that again. I barely know you!”

Robert caught David’s hand. “David, I’m not him. Please, just tell me. Who was he?”

There was a long silence as David looked over Robert’s shoulder into his office. His eyes wandered to where the picture should’ve been of himself and Andrew. A happy photo of two men deeply in love and just promised. There was no photo, no happiness. Just anger.

David looked at his patient again. “Look, let’s get on with your session shall we?”

“David….”

“No! I’m not discussing it. Never happened,” he growled.

Robert tilted his head. “Ah, king of denial.”

David glared at his patient. “Let’s just get on with this. You have exercises to learn.”

“Fine. Continue to suffer in silence.” Robert looked away from the hot but rude blond, then down at his hand. He held back tears; he’d been so hurt that anyone being mean to him was like another wound he couldn’t bear.

David smoothed his skilled hands over his patient’s arm. “Robert… I’m sorry… it’s just been a really bad month for me. Can you forgive me?”

Robert looked up and smiled. He was relieved when David did the same. “I accept. Let’s just get me better so it doesn’t hurt like a bitch to type anymore.”

David nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

They changed the conversation to that of medical matters only. Robert was sent home with three sheets of exercises to do along with therapeutic putty.