Soul Caress. Kim Shaw

forward to waking up in the mornings. Even the grueling physical therapy she endured was a welcomed part of her daily routine and she pushed herself to get stronger.

      The cast was removed from her leg and replaced with a thinner, more flexible one. To her astonishment, she had extremely limited strength and mobility in that leg. Everything she tried to do hurt, including the stretching exercises that the therapist put her through twice a day for a half an hour at a time. By the time she finished working out, Kennedy was a sweaty, teary-eyed mess, but that did not deter her from coming back for more.

      Instead of giving in to the desperation and hopelessness that had nearly crippled her since the accident, Kennedy had now found a dogged determination in getting better. There was no doubt that the change in her mood was partially due to Malik Crawford.

      They began to spend a great deal of time together. Malik visited her during his hours on duty, as well as in his leisure time. He brought sandwiches from the deli and shared his lunch break with her, either out on the grounds or, during inclement weather, seated on the floor in her room for an indoor picnic. He knew that the unspoken rules of Stillwater stated that client/staff interactions outside of caregiving should be limited, but he could not help himself. He had seen how depressed and discouraged Kennedy was when she’d first arrived and for some inexplicable reason, he felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to her.

      Kennedy was unlike any other client he’d ever worked with or any other woman he’d ever encountered. There was a strength and inner beauty that attracted him, called out to his spirit, and he could not ignore it. Still, he knew that he had to be discreet and without saying anything specific to her, Kennedy understood the same. In the presence of others, they were client and patient. Alone, as they strolled along the winding paths or sat in her room tossing grapes into the air and trying to catch them in their mouths, they laughed and talked, sharing confidences and becoming friends.

      With pride she boasted about her family and the accomplishments of her ancestors. Malik learned that Kennedy came from one of the most influential clans in North Carolina, with a staunch reputation dating back to the early abolitionist movement. He was enthralled by the way her face lit up as she shared with him stories of firsts in her family—the first black banker in a town, the first black store-owner in a city and the first black lawyer in the state. Malik couldn’t help but be equally impressed by her family legacy. It also made him uncomfortable. Secretly, he wished that he had the same stories of significant successes to tell about his family tree, but he knew of no such accounts to share. His reservations were shattered, however, in the face of Kennedy’s interested prodding and gentle sweetness, and he felt compelled to share what he did know about his family.

      Malik’s parents, Fred and Joyce Crawford, spent their careers as blue-collar workers. The Crawfords raised their family—Malik, an older brother, Malcolm, and an older sister, LaToya—in D.C.’s rough Northwest district. Malik was proud that his parents had managed to stay together for thirty-five years and counting.

      While Kennedy talked about summers spent traveling abroad, Malik laughed as he remembered his summer days spent splashing around in front of the fire hydrant on the corner of his block. The more they talked, the more they realized that they had very little in common in terms of their upbringing and lifestyles. Yet they also realized that that fact made them all the more interested in one another.

      For Kennedy, spending time with Malik helped her to focus on something other than the devastation the accident had caused to her life. He made her forget to find time to cry each day. He made her remember all the things that she should smile about. She found being with Malik easier than talking to anyone else, quite possibly because he did not know her before the accident. Her parents always talked about when she got better and after her eyesight came back, as if there was no room for any other possibility. They were constantly reminding her of her job at Morgan Stanley, all of her accomplishments and the bright future she had in front of her. To her, their words were an insinuation that she could control her recovery, and that they expected her to bring about a positive outcome. Nothing less would be acceptable to the Daniels.