The Walk Read Online Free PDF Page B

you selected a model?”
    I ran my fingers through my hair. “No. I scheduled a model search for Thursday.”
    “Thursday, as in tomorrow?”
    I had no idea what day it was. “Sorry. Can you handle that?”
    “I’m always up for a model search.”
    I exhaled. “I’m sorry to drop all this on you, Kyle. I just can’t go back to that world.”
    “You don’t need to worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everyone. By the way, has Falene called recently?”
    “This afternoon.”
    He paused. “What did she say?”
    “Not much. She just asked how McKale was.”
    “Oh?” He sounded surprised. “Good. That’s good. Well, I better let you go. Give McKale my love.”
    “Thank you, Kyle.”
    “My pleasure.”

CHAPTER
Nine
    The more someone assures you that everything is okay, the more you can be assured that it’s not.
    Alan Christoffersen’s diary
    The next day McKale was released from the ICU and transferred to the rehabilitation wing of the hospital. I spent the next three weeks at McKale’s side. I stayed until she fell asleep every night. One night I was so exhausted, I started to leave before she was asleep, and she begged me to stay. She was afraid, and she clung to me like a man clings to a limb at the edge of a waterfall. Maybe for the same reason.
    I hated rehabilitation. I hated the name of the place. It was false advertising. Nothing was being rehabilitated. I don’t think it was meant to do anything other than get McKale used to a life in a wheelchair, which proved more difficult than we hoped since she lacked the upper body strength to do much of what was required.
    In addition to the physical therapy there was “emotional support” as well. A slew of counselors spewed out more promises than a late-night infomercial.
You can do anything, mountains just lift us higher, you can live a normal life, your life can be just as full as it was before, rah,
rah, rah.
    McKale called it a “sorry excuse for a pep rally.”
    She wasn’t buying any of it.

    Those first weeks after the accident, the only calls I received from the office, outside of those from Kyle and Falene, were repeated calls from two of my clients, Wathen and Coiffeur. Every time they called, I texted Kyle and asked him to take care of them. I just couldn’t live in two worlds. Still, as much as I appreciated Kyle’s covering for me, I knew it couldn’t go on much longer.
    By the end of the third week, as I made arrangements to bring McKale home, I began to prepare myself mentally to return to work. I called Kyle for an update on our accounts and was surprised when he didn’t answer his cell phone. This went on for the next three days. By the end of the week, I wondered if he’d lost his phone. Friday afternoon I called Tawna, our receptionist, to find out where he was.
    “Madgic, Falene speaking.”
    “What are you doing answering the phones?” I asked. “Where’s Tawna?”
    “She’s gone.”
    “She left early?”
    “No, she quit. Everyone’s quit except me.”
    She might as well have been speaking Chinese for all the sense it made to me. “Quit? What are you talking about?”
    “Kyle and Ralph started their own company. They took everyone with them.”
    I was stunned. “Kyle and Ralph left?”
    “He and Ralph started their own agency. Craig/Jordan Advertising.”
    “What about our clients?”
    “They’ve taken them all. Kyle told them Madgic was going under,” she said angrily. “I did the best I could to save them. I convinced Wathen and Claudia at Coiffeur to call you first, but they said you wouldn’t return their calls.”
    “We lost them all?”
    “Every one.”
    I rubbed my face with my hand. “I can’t believe it.”
    “I don’t want to believe it. Tell me what to do.”
    My head felt as if it would explode. “I don’t know, Falene. Just hang tight. McKale comes home Saturday. We’ll get together Monday morning and strategize. How are we for money?”
    “I called Steve about payroll. He said