that attitude again. Next time check it at the door or you’ll need to find a new attorney. If you act like an ass in the courtroom there’s not a damn thing I’ll be able to do about getting you off.”
Colin returned to his notes and continued to brief Reggie. When he was through, he placed a hand on Shayna’s elbow and pulled her aside. “Reggie, will you wait outside for a moment? I’d like to speak to your sister alone.”
Grunting something unintelligible, Reggie loped off. He had a ticked-off expression on his face, and grumbled something about not being part of the conversation.
Shayna smiled politely, waiting for Colin to say what he had to say. Hopefully it was not more bad news. She just couldn’t take it.
“Are you available this coming Saturday?” he surprised her by asking.
“I might be,” Shayna said evasively. She hated making commitments until she knew what she was getting into.
“I was thinking we’d get a bite to eat at one of the trendy restaurants in LoDo.”
Theirs so far had been a business relationship. But he was one of the rare single men she’d met since moving to Denver. Besides, one date did not an emotional attachment make.
She was familiar with the lower downtown area. It had recently been gentrified and several trendy boutiques and small businesses had replaced the warehouses. Overnight, it had become Denver’s answer to New York’s Soho. When she’d first moved here she’d considered renting a loft in the area.
“Great I’ll look forward to it,” Shayna answered.
“Shayna,” Reggie called from outside. “Are you almost done? We need to go.”
“We’re wrapping up,” she shouted back, rolling her eyes. “That boy’s a handful.”
Colin’s strong fingers circled her forearm. “He’s a teenager. I’ll pick you up Saturday, say around eight”
“Let me give you my address. You’ll need my phone number as well.”
Colin released her to tap a fat folder on his desk. “I have it all here. I’m really looking forward to our date, Shayna.”
“Me too.”
She followed him out. While it wouldn’t be a love connection, a date would help break up the monotony of another Saturday night.
Beau wasn’t ready for this, the vast outdoors surrounding him, wide-open spaces, and no evident boundaries. Sunlight poured through the open van windows as he sat huddled in his seat, trying to forget how exhilarated he felt out on the slopes, the cool mountain air blowing against his face.
He slumped in the back of a leased van, his father in the driver’s seat, his mother beside his dad. Immaculata and an assortment of medical personnel waved to him from the front steps, his occupational therapist among them, but no Shayna.
“Bye, Beau-Beau, don’t be a stranger,” Immaculata called, waving to him. “You come by and visit when you have therapy, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
Beau nodded at her but didn’t trust himself to speak.
He flipped the thumbs-up sign and choked back the bile that was beginning to rise in his throat. His safety net had just been pulled out from under him. Denver Rehabilitation Center had represented organization and structure. It was safe. There, he wasn’t an oddity, just another patient with special needs.
So many here were in far worse shape than he. But thanks to Shayna and that pushy psychologist, he was being thrust out into the world of able-bodied people. A world that viewed the disabled as not quite human.
His mom would be staying with him until he settled in. His dad, busy soul that he was, would remain in his own home but there would be frequent visits. Kelly, his sister, was flying in from Seattle. His brother, Jason, still hadn’t made it to Denver. And in between, Beau would be interviewing a succession of aides, hoping for a good fit
Beau’s bedroom had been relocated to the first floor. Makeshift ramps had been built to accommodate his chair, the presumption being he’d be non-ambulatory the rest of his