CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED AND NINETY-FOUR
Friday morning — 9:12 a.m.
Sitting in her bed in Seth O’Malley’s “healing room,” Sandy listened for any activity outside the room. Aden was traveling to check on a sewer and road project outside of Center, Colorado. The kids were at school. Ava was in Grand Junction working on a case. Seth was in New York for a meeting with the World Jewish Restoration Organization and a team from the US Holocaust Museum in Washington. He’d taken his father, Bernie, with him. Maresol had left a half hour ago to join them for the weekend.
Sandy was completely alone in the house.
She’d promised that she would be “good.”
She’d promised that she wouldn’t “hurt herself.”
But over the last week, the items from the Polish salt mine had started to arrive at the house. Last night, with the help of Teddy, Noelle, and Nash, they’d opened the crates that could be opened to take a look at what was inside.
Sandy had been too exhausted and in too much pain to see what they’d uncovered. She’d sat in impatient frustration as the kids talked about the paintings and swords, books and a whole host of marvelous things. Within weeks, many of these items would be returned to their rightful owners.
If Sandy didn’t look at them now, she might never get a chance.
Today was her day. This was her private time.
She could do this!
She had it all planned. She’d taken her meds at exactly the right time so that she was in exactly the right level of pain management. She’d done her PT exercises for weeks.
By God, Sandy was ready to walk again.
Nodding to herself, she strapped on her leg brace, ankle brace, and grabbed her canes. She was going to walk out of this room and into the den where most of the art was being stored for now.
It wasn’t even very far.
The floor was smooth oak so easy to slide across in her sock slippers.
She rotated so that her feet hung off the bed.
“Yowl!” Cleo the cat said. She stepped across the bed to where Sandy was sitting.
“Now, none of that,” Sandy said. She smiled at Cleo and ran her hand over the cat. “I can do this.”
Sandy slipped off the bed. Her feet hit the floor and she stood up.
“See,” Sandy smiled at the cat.
“Yowl!!” Cleo said.
Shaking her head at her worrywart cat, she made sure her canes were solid in her hands.
“Here goes nothing!” Sandy said.
She planted a cane and took a step.
“So far so good,” Sandy grinned.
She took another step and another step. Sweat began to drip down her back. Pain ripped through her body and pulsed in her brain.
“I’ve totally got this,” Sandy said out loud to cheer herself on.
She took another step and her leg went out. She crashed to her knee. Years of core work allowed her to catch herself with her hands. She collapsed face first to the ground making sure to protect her still healing jaw.
Panting from the pain, she rested her cheek on the cool floors.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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