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“I understand that. I’m asking if it’s possible.”
He’s able to feed himself, the tremors in his hands aren’t gone but are far better, thanks to therapy and medication. He can walk unassisted, bathe himself, dress himself. Maybe we can do this outside of a hospital setting.
Dr. Gable switches from talking to me back to Oliver. “You could suffer another seizure. The panic attacks you’ve had are mostly brought on by overstimulation and stress. When you’re overwhelmed, you can get disoriented. It’s not safe for you to be alone.”
“He wouldn’t be alone.”
My response makes Oliver lift his head.
“Do you trust me?” I ask him.
He nods and whispers, “You’re the only one I trust.”
“Then I have a compromise. You aren’t ready to be on your own yet. I know it sucks, but the doctor is right about that. Come and stay with me while you continue your recovery.”
Tori and I have spent time recently discussing what to do when Oliver gets out of the rehab center. The hope was that he’d have his memory back and could move back to his home while we checked in on him. Even if he stays another month or two here, that may not happen. Both of us agreed that it would make more sense for him to stay with me once he’s released, since I have a guest room and live alone. She and Paul would both help as needed. I’m just putting that backup plan into action early.
“Ms. Booth, with all due respect, he needs a nice peaceful place to recover before he’s eased back into his life."
“I can give him that. I’m grateful for all that you and the staff here have done for him. But I think his mental health is important too, and he isn’t happy here.”
Dr. Gable isn’t thrilled with the idea. “Oliver, is that what you want to do?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll still be leaving against medical advice, and I’ll need both of your signatures confirming that. But I’ll arrange for you to be treated through our outpatient program. You won’t be able to fill your prescriptions until tomorrow so I’d strongly recommend you remain until we can get things in order in the morning.”
“I will. Thank you,” Oliver replies.
As soon as the doctor leaves, Oliver takes a deep breath, and his shoulders drop a little. He’s the picture of relief.
“Does your head hurt?” I ask.
“No, I’m just tired.”
“Well, you’ve had a busy day giving the staff hell and fighting your way out of here,” I tease.
He looks up at me and a tiny grin cracks his lips. “Thank you, Ella. For everything. I know I have to be interrupting your life.”
He stands up and I pull him into a hug. “You aren’t interrupting anything. I think this will be good for both of us. My house is too lonely. Plus, I live in the neighborhood we grew up in, across the street from your childhood home. When you’re ready, we can visit some places you used to go and see if that helps your memory.”
Freya enters with Oliver’s nighttime meds. “We’re going to miss you around here, but I think you’re in good hands.”
She stays to chat with us for a few minutes. Once I’m sure Oliver is okay and isn’t going to dart out the door like an escaped cat, I promise to be back early in the morning and start home. Suddenly, I have a ton of things to do.
CHAPTER16
Oliver has been in a much better mood since I picked him up from the rehabilitation center a few days ago. Tori and Paul are a huge help to both of us. They volunteer to stay with Oliver when I work or have to run errands that are too overwhelming for him. I manage to reschedule all my client’s appointments to the mornings so that I can be with Oliver most of the day. It works out since both Tori and Paul work evenings.
My guest room is now Oliver’s and he seems comfortable here. I drop him off at the rehabilitation center three mornings a week for cognitive and physical therapy before heading to work. If I’m still working, Tori picks him up afterward, around noon, and they have lunch at my house while waiting for me to return.
It’s just past one when I get home today to find the three of them laughing in the kitchen. Paul sits at the table beside Oliver while Tori stands at the stove.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” I ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.
Oliver’s lips tilt up. “Ask Tori. Paul is in trouble.”
“I’m a grown man. I don’t get in trouble.” Paul scoffs. Tori gives him a look and he scoots his chair farther away. “I warned you I didn’t like kids.”
