Keith (Hathaway House #11) - Dale Mayer Page 0,46

lot about him. On the other hand, Keith was prepared to learn and to grow and to move on in reclaiming his life and his health. Anything to keep Ilse at his side. That brought up something else, as in what he would do for a job. He remembered the suggestions from the discussion with his shrink before and wondered about it. He could also ask somebody else in his condition about what kind of issues there were in this transition from naval life to civilian life, in this transition from his first career to his second one.

As he pondered it all, a knock came on his door, and a tall stranger walked in. Keith looked up with a nod and said, “Good morning.”

The man walked forward, reached out a hand, and said, “I’m Iain.”

He stared at him in surprise. “Robin didn’t tell me that you were coming.”

“I didn’t tell her,” he said easily. “I know she’s worried about your reaction to me.”

Keith smiled and shook his head. “Robin has always been a force unto herself. She will do whatever she thinks is right, but, at the same time, she’ll worry in the background.”

Iain grinned. “Isn’t that the truth?” He looked at Keith. “I didn’t know what time was good to catch you.”

“Right now isn’t bad,” Keith said. “I just came back from getting coffee, and it’s not quite breakfast time yet. You’re here pretty early, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he said. “I came to do a bit of carpentry work downstairs at the vet clinic for Robin and Stan.”

“Good. It’s got to feel pretty decent to be in a position where you can do that now.” He frowned as he noted the huge envelope Iain held up now.

“I brought these for you,” he said. “Not that you’ll care necessarily, but I thought I’d give it a try.”

Keith pulled some pictures out. The first was of Iain when he’d arrived. Keith recognized a lot of similar things in the photo of Iain as compared to Keith’s own photos, but the most profound element was the look on Iain’s face. Like Robin had told Keith, Iain had been here—depressed, down, almost surly, and looking at the world as if nothing would ever change. Keith barely even commented on Iain’s physical body. “Man, that face,” Keith said. “I so recognize that look.”

“Right,” Iain said. “I was such an idiot for the way I traveled here.” He shook his head as he stared down at the man that he had been. “I was in such a narrow mind-set, and I couldn’t see beyond it. We get locked up with all our pain, our depression, and our emotions that are just not quite clear, and it’s painful to look back on it now.”

As Iain reached for another photo, Keith was still struck by the fact that the man standing before him was the complete antithesis of the man in the first photo. Keith didn’t even really need to see the next photo, but, when he did, he saw not just the pride on Iain’s face but also the muscle growth, the development, the calming down of some of the angry muscle tissue, the vibrancy of his spirit. Keith looked up at the man in front of him. “I can see why you hang on to these photos.”

“Nobody ever believes me,” Iain said, pulling up a chair with a grin. With a single hand, he flipped it around and sat down casually, a man who was once again in control of his body.

“I’m not there yet,” Keith said boldly.

“You haven’t been here long enough,” Iain said. “You’ll need months, depending on the damage. Sometimes the surgeries are the easiest, but it’s the muscle rebuilding that takes the longest.”

“That’s what I’m finding,” Keith said with a wince. “Just when you think you get progress, you also have a setback.”

Iain’s booming laughter rang across the room. “It can, indeed. Of all the stages of life I’m glad to have over with, it was leaving here. Don’t get me wrong. This is the best place to be for rehab, for recovery, for success. And I owe everything to my time here. It gave me a life back. Some of the staff are really tough, and they make you work but, when they do, wow.”

“Are you talking about Shane by any chance?” Keith asked with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve screamed at him and cried with him. You know when you get to that breaking point, and there’s nothing else left?