Another Reason To Live (Watty Awards 2014)

Chapter 26

Chapter 26:

As we left the physical therapy center, Frank kept teasing Gerard about his leg boot was perfect for him, since it was black.  “It’s like they custom made that for you,” he joked.

Gerard smirked.  “Hey, at least I’m out of that damn wheelchair,” he said, making his way down the ramp on his new crutches.  He was still somewhat clumsy with them still, but he had plenty of time to get used to them.  Three weeks, to be exact.

“So what do you guys want to do now?” Frank asked as we approached his car.  He spun his keys on his pointer finger and looked at us over the top of his sunglasses.  “Because there’s no way I’m going back to work yet.”

“Frank, it’s only two thirty in the afternoon.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “but I got my friend Jeff to take over for me.”

Gerard laughed once the word ‘Jeff’ left Frank’s mouth.  “Seriously?  You actually got Jeff to get off his lazy ass and work?”

Frank grinned and unlocked his car.  “I said I’d give him fifty bucks to do it.”

“Frank, he doesn’t even actually work there.  He doesn’t even know how to run a cash register,” Gerard laughed.

Frank only shrugged.  “Not my problem today.  As long as he doesn’t set the place on fire, he’ll be fine.  Now c’mon, I want to get some ice cream.”

We piled into Frank’s car, with Gerard in the back seat so he could lay his leg across the bench seat.  His boot was rather clunky and wouldn’t fit very well in the front seat.  So I rode shotgun as Frank floored it down the street and to an ice cream shop.

Once we got there, Frank helped Gerard get settled with his crutches before we went inside.  It was pretty much empty when we got there, except for an older couple in the corner.  The walls were pained a pale green and had white marble pillars that extended from floor to ceiling, making it feel more like a bank than an ice cream shop.

“Oh man, guys, there’s this cookies and cream ice cream here that will blow your mind,” Frank gushed as we approached the counter.  There was a glass window that allowed us all to look at the variety of ice cream flavors, which Frank smudged with his fingers as he pointed out all of the interesting flavors.  He wiped them away with the sleeve of his gray hoodie.

We all took turns ordering our ice cream dishes and after, we all wandered over to the row of tables and chairs for us to choose from.  Gerard chose one against the panel of windows and put his crutches on the table.  I looked over at Frank, who was starting to put a cigarette in his mouth.

“Frank,” I nervously laughed, “you can’t smoke in an ice cream shop.”

He grinned at me before taking it out of his mouth.  “I know, I was going to step outside real quick.”

“Wait,” Gerard exclaimed with a laugh, “get a picture of this.”

He joined Frank at his side, who had replaced the cigarette back in his mouth.  I retrieved my phone from my pocket and flipped it open.  Gerard added, “We can call this ‘Fuck Your Rules’.”

I took the picture as Gerard flipped off the camera and Frank gave a smug look as the cigarette remained balanced in between his lips.

I laughed and showed them both the picture of them, which of course, made them laugh.  Frank stepped outside to smoke his cigarette, so when the cashier called out our order number, I went back up to the counter and got our ice cream while Gerard sat down at the table.