Gallows Humor
Page 17
“Seeing someone, actually.” Anna’s face brightened. “She’s been right in front of me for a long time.”
“Yeah?” Corey grinned. “That’s great. Anyone I know?”
“Um, Megan from my office.”
“Megan, your secretary? You’re sleeping with your secretary?”
“Administrative Assistant,” Anna corrected. “And she got promoted, so stop judging.” Anna tried not to smile.
“Oh, okay, then.”
“What about you? I saw a picture of your doctor friend on the news. The one that was there with you.” Anna whistled in appreciation. “What’s going on there?”
“Oh, uh…” Corey sucked in a breath. “It’s complicated.”
“She married?”
“What? No.”
“Straight?”
“No.”
“You don’t find her attractive?” Anna suggested, mockingly.
“Come on.” She didn’t want to be teased about Thayer.
“Then what’s complicated about it?”
Corey stared at the ground and massaged the back of her neck, absently. “Me, I guess.” She finally looked back up. “I complicated it.”
“For a good reason, I’m sure.”
“Pride? Vanity? Self-absorption?” Corey shrugged. “Pick one.”
“About the shittiest reasons there are. Can you fix it?”
Corey paused. “I think so, yes.”
“Do you want to?”
Corey’s throat closed, tears threatening as she thought of how badly she missed Thayer, how empty her bed felt, though they hadn’t yet done more than kiss and hold hands. How badly she missed her laugh and the way her golden eyes sparkled when Thayer looked at her right before she teased her. All she could do was nod.
“Oh, wow.” Anna smiled, sympathetically. “It’s her, isn’t it? She’s the one?”
“How could I possibly know that?”
“How long have you known her?”
“Oh, um, we just met right around the time you and I ended, I guess.”
Anna did some mental math. “So, three weeks?”
“Well, I haven’t seen her since I’ve been out of the hospital, and I was in the hospital for a week and not really able to… Well, let’s say I’ve had better days.”
“So…” Anna wrote imaginary numbers in the air and stuck her tongue out comically like she was concentrating. “…carry the two…one week. That sound right?”
Corey blew out a breath. “Is that all? God, it feels like I’ve known her forever.”
Anna smiled, knowingly. “And that, my friend, is your answer.” She gave her leg a gentle squeeze and rose to her feet before extending her hand and helping Corey to hers. “Now I’m late for a client meeting.”
“Thank you for coming by. It means a lot.”
“Can I give you a hug?” Corey raised her right arm and invited her closer, Anna wrapped her arms around her gently. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re happy with Megan.”
Anna stepped back and gave Corey a stern look. “I meant what I said. When you find her, treat her better. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Thayer linked her arm through her grandmother’s as they started on the familiar path that ran around the small pond at her assisted living home. She didn’t the need the help. She was small and she shuffled slightly from the partial paralysis, but she was still the most capable woman Thayer knew.
Whenever Thayer wasn’t working these days, she was sleeping or nurturing the relationships in her life she could still protect. “Do you want to go all the way around today?”
“It’s only half a mile,” her grandmother scoffed. “Why? Are you going to have trouble?”
Thayer laughed. “I was just asking.”
They were quiet for several minutes as they picked their way over some roots at the start of the path. “You haven’t been around much the last couple of weeks, Jo.” Her grandmother, while honored at her daughter’s name choice for her only child, had felt it silly to call her granddaughter by her own last name so she used her middle name, Josephine. “Is everything all right?”
“I know, I’m sorry Nana. I’ve been working a lot.”
“And spending time with that strapping young woman, Corey, I hope. When are you going to bring her by so I can meet her?”
“Strapping?”
“Is that not how you would describe her?”
“It works, I guess.” Thayer cleared her throat. “But no, we haven’t seen much of each other since she got hurt.”
“Oh, my, she’s not still in the hospital is she?”
“No, nothing like that.” Thayer considered her words carefully. “She just wanted to prioritize her recovery over starting a relationship.”
“Hmm.” Nana was quiet a long time. “And what did you want?”
“I guess I thought we would heal together.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I did. I mean, I think I did. She was sensitive and self-conscious about being hurt and needing to rely on other people. She was angry.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that now, would I?” Nana chuckled and squeezed her arm.
“I told her that didn’t matter to me. She was still the same woman I fell…that I, um… I let her know I wanted to help but she didn’t want it. Not from me.”
“Did you tell her you needed her help too?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean when you’re overwhelmed and scared and feeling like you can’t do the things you used to do, it’s nice to hear—you need to hear—how valued you are. That someone needs a thing only you can provide. That’s why, since I moved in here, we now have a beautiful butterfly garden.” Nana paused and stared out over the pond to watch a heron fishing for lunch. “Maybe you can tell her that.”
Thayer swallowed hard. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Now, I’m certain that’s not true.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because you’re a real dish, Jo.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Corey looked up and watched as Rachel banged open the front door of her condo and tore through the entryway into the living room. She had quit staying over shortly after Corey’s first trip back to the gym but held on to a key in case of emergency. There had been two since, both on days after Corey had grossly overexerted herself, once physically and once emotionally, in her quest to get back in shape and get healthy.
With her return to the gym came her resolve to heal in mind and body. She worked out daily, and her increased strength decreased her headaches and need for medication.
“Corey!”
“I’m right here.” She leaned on the kitchen counter.
Rachel moved into the kitchen and stopped when she saw Corey packing up a cooler and dropping items into a shopping bag. “What? What the hell? Are you all right?”
Corey straightened. “Yeah, fine.” She grinned. “Can you help me load up my truck?”
Rachel gaped at her. “Shit, Cor, I thought you were dying.”
“What? Why? All I said was could you come over and help me.”
“ASAP,” Rachel yelled. “Come over ASAP.”
“Shit. Sorry.” Corey grimaced. “I was running short on time and I didn’t realize how that would sound.”
“Christ.” Rachel ran her hands through her hair, standing it on end. “I have a date, Corey.”
“You do? Who with?”
“This guy, Jude.” Rachel’s face softened. “He’s been coming into the shop the last week or so. I thought he was a real creeper at first, but he’s got the cutest dimple so I could hit that.”
“Yeah?” She fought a laugh. “What’s his deal?”
“Don’t know yet but I’ve seen him pull up in a hearse and that’s kind of rad.” Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Wait, do you know him?”
She grinned. “He’s a good guy.”
r /> “I feel like sex in a hearse is something I should—”
“Dude, no.” She shook her head.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Rachel still seemed to be thinking about it as she hefted the cooler. “What the fuck is in this?” She grunted as Corey raced around her and got the door.
“Dinner for two.” Corey ran back and grabbed the shopping bags.
Rachel paused on the walkway. “You called Thayer?”
“Not exactly.” She set the bags on the passenger seat of her truck and ran around to lower the tailgate.
“Texted?” Rachel grunted as she heaved the cooler into the back and slid it in.
“Um, no.”
“What then?”
“A surprise?”
Rachel sucked in a long breath. “A surprise. Are you fucking crazy?”
Corey stared at her a long moment. “Oh, I have an idea.” She pulled out her phone and started searching something.
“Corey.” Rachel snapped her fingers. “Focus.”
“What?”
“Are you having a stroke?” Rachel gaped at her. “How do you know she even wants to see you?”
“I guess I was hoping you would tell me if she didn’t.” She shrugged.
“How the hell should I know? All she does is work. I’ve sent her texts but if I get a response it’s just a word, two if I’m lucky.”
Corey pursed her lips. “Well, I guess I’ll find out then, won’t I?” She climbed into her truck, wincing slightly. “Will you lock up for me? I have to roll.”
“Wait. How are you going to get this stuff unpacked?” Rachel yelled as she backed out.
“I’ll manage. Have fun with Jude.”
Corey chewed her lip as she headed out to Thayer’s. The only thing she knew for certain was that Thayer was going to be home tonight. As if the hand of God herself had come down to slap some sense into her, Dana had called her out of nowhere that morning and left a message letting her know a new schedule had come out and Thayer was not on it until Monday.
Now Rachel’s words rattled around in her head. Maybe she was crazy or having a stroke. Every day for the last two weeks she wanted to call Thayer. It was all she could think about but every day she would find some reason not to. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t strong enough. She had an appointment. She wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t know what to say.
Corey had never had a panic attack but she felt like she was having one now. Her heart raced and her hand sweated on the steering wheel, her breath coming hard and fast. She hit her hazards and pulled over on Old South Road, not three miles from Thayer’s house, and prayed no one would drive by.
She rested her head against the steering wheel and wiped her palm against her jeans to dry it, concentrating on slowing her breathing. This all seemed like such a great idea this morning—dinner, drinks, and a heartfelt apology, but now she knew it wasn’t enough. How could it ever be enough when Thayer had done nothing wrong? In fact, she had done everything right and Corey had let her go, pushed her away and rejected her offer of help—rejected her.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” She banged on the steering wheel before throwing open her door and stepping out into the afternoon sun on the desolate road. She needed to pull herself together and get back to the place in her head where she was so sure she could make this right.
The universe wasn’t playing around anymore. Everywhere pointed her back to Thayer, every conversation and every thought, but it wasn’t until she first met her physical therapist that she was able to get to where she was today, on her way to Thayer’s place with steak, chicken, and shrimp ka-bobs that she’d spent all day marinating and awkwardly skewering one-handed.
She’d sat on an exam table in the PT room in the basement of the hospital, not far from the morgue, though she’d never known it was there. She was waiting for whoever was assigned to her case and mindlessly swinging her legs. She stared at a wall with a Henry Ford quote: “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t—you’re right.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A man in his mid-thirties came around the corner and strolled over to Corey, arm extended, a warm smile on his face and a chart tucked under his arm.
Corey assessed him. He was tall and muscular with floppy, sandy-brown surfer hair, a nice tan and two prosthetic legs. She couldn’t help but stare and quickly snapped her gaze to his face and shook his hand.
“I’m Dan Lloyd.” He saw her eyes flick back to his legs. “I’m a double amputee. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry.” Corey smiled apologetically. “Corey Curtis and I sleep with women. There, now it’s all out in the open.”
He grinned. “I do too, and I know who you are. I have to confess there was a bit of a tussle over who was going to work with the Valkyrie.”
Corey rolled her eyes. “And you drew the short straw?”
“We fought over your chart, actually. Everyone here has heard what happened and what you did. I can’t believe with our workplaces so close we haven’t met before, but I wasn’t going to miss out on meeting you this time.”
“Dan, you said?” Corey started to laugh.
“Yeah, why? What’s funny?”
“Nothing. I was just talking to a friend not long ago about not knowing anyone named Dan and here you are.” Corey smiled wistfully. “I’m glad it’s you.”
“So today I just want us to spend some time getting to know each other, talk about your current health and expectations and I’ll check you out and see where we are. Sound good?”
“Yeah, great.”
Dan set the chart aside. “Take off your shirt for me. Will you be comfortable lying on your stomach on the table? I want to get a look at your back and neck.”
Corey pulled her T-shirt over her head, unselfconsciously, though she rarely wore a bra these days because she couldn’t get one on. “Yeah, I’ll manage.” She stretched out and after some fidgeting found an acceptable way to position her cast that didn’t aggravate her ribs too much.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He pressed his fingers into the muscles along her spine and walked his way up, feeling for tension and hot spots. “You may benefit from chiropractic care as well. If you’re interested, I can recommend someone really good.”
“Great.” Corey sighed as he dug his thumbs into the hard muscles of her shoulders and the back of her neck.
“Where do you work out?” Dan manipulated her head carefully back and forth.
It took her a moment to understand the question as whatever he was doing was putting her to sleep. “Uh, Women’s MMA Warehouse.”
“Oh, yeah.” He dug underneath her shoulder blades. “I know it. That place is badass.”
“Not doing much fighting these days, but my workouts have been getting better.” She sucked in a breath when he hit a particularly tight spot in her neck.
“Sorry.” He eased back on the pressure. “How often are you getting headaches?”
“Um, one, two, three in the last ten days, I think.”
“Pain scale?”
“Anywhere between three and nine where nine is going blind, throwing up, and passing out.”
“That sounds awesome. What’s ten then?”
“Being flayed alive, probably.”
“Yeah, I get that. You can endure it all when you have to.” He continued palpating her back. “What have they been lately?”
“Five or six, I guess.”
“Good. And they start in your neck?”
“Yeah, usually. Like tension headaches.”
“Yeah, I can feel how tight you are. There are a lot of myofascial trigger points. Your muscles are pulling hard on the right too because you’re favoring your left side still. We’re going to have to straighten that out and get your posture and gait back to normal. Have you tried massage?”
“Uh, no. I haven’t been to anyone.”
“Even a nonprofessional would help and I
’m sure your girlfriend would know what she was doing better than most.”
“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh. What about Dr. Reynolds? Wasn’t she there with you?”
“She was, yes.” Corey cleared her throat. “But we’re not together. I mean we were, maybe, I don’t know, but now after everything we’re not.”
“I’ve only ever seen her but some of my team have gotten consult requests and taken referrals from her. From what I hear, and believe me pretty much everyone is talking about her, I’d have a hard time believing she couldn’t handle what happened. You can sit up.” He helped her around on the table and handed her shirt to her. “What happened?”
“She was great. It was me that couldn’t handle it.”
“Let me guess. You got bitter about what happened to you and the unfairness of it all, and in a fit of raging self-loathing you pushed her away.”
Corey laughed humorlessly. “Pretty much nailed it.”
“Yeah, I tried that too.” Dan nodded. “And?”
“And what?”
“You’re just going to let her go? I’m sorry, Corey, and don’t get me wrong, because I am a happily married man with baby number two on the way, but if even half of what I’ve heard about her is true, and a woman like Thayer Reynolds was into me, I’d walk through fire to hold on to that.”
She raked her hand through her hair. “Yeah, well I think about it every day and then more time passes and I’m afraid it’s too late and I don’t know where to start.”
He cocked his head and looked at her. “Was she okay after what happened?”
“She wasn’t hurt, thank god.”
“That’s not what I meant. I saw the same news as everyone else. Her life was threatened. That must have been terrifying for her. And she watched you get hurt, yes?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled. “I can’t really remember.”
“You didn’t ask her?”
Corey stared at him, trying to process his words. “No.”
“Well, maybe that’s where you start.” He shrugged. “And, not to sound too cliché, but I’m the guy who got both legs sheared off when I flew off the front of my bike at eighty miles an hour and hit a guardrail.” He rapped his knuckles on one of his prosthetics. “It’s never too late. Well, unless you’re dead—which we are not.”