by DL White
“You should feel improvement within a few sessions and daily therapy will limp you along until the election is over and until I can see you again. I’ll be going on vacation at the end of next week, so I’ll need you to keep it together on your own until then. Alright?”
He nodded and so did I, but I was more interested in long term treatment. “But after that—”
“After that, I’d like to do another MRI to check out the ACL. My diagnosis, though not official, is that the repair was poorly done and has torn. I treat a great many professional athletes and I’m good at what I do. With my techniques, I don’t see reinjury. I’d also like to remove some of the scar tissue so that you can have full movement. With physical therapy, you should be like new in a matter of months.”
My chest swelled with the huge breath of relief I sucked in. It looked like things were going to be okay… not immediately, but soon. Soon, I could handle.
“And, I’m well aware of your request for a treatment that doesn’t require narcotic pain pills. I respect this request greatly. While you’re here, you’ll receive IV pain meds. Once discharged, you be prescribed Tylenol 3 and cryotherapy.”
“So, what about now, Dr. Irons?” Leslie asked. “He can’t stand or bend his leg.”
“R.I.C.E.,” he spelled out, poking out his fingers with each letter. “I’m sure you’ve heard this from team doctors. Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation— ”
“You’re not going to tell me to put a bag of peas on my knee, are you?”
He chuckled. “No, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea. Get yourself a good, big ice pack that straps to your leg, a compression garment and rest with the knee elevated. You should get your cryotherapy machine as soon as—” He paused, then perked. “One moment.”
He slid his chair out from under his desk, then stood and rushed out of the room. Puzzled, Leslie and I glanced at each other. Then he rushed back through the door with a box under his arm.
“You’re in luck. I ordered one of these for a patient, but he’d already purchased one and it’s been sitting in a closet for months. Until you get your own, you can use this one. It’s top of the line.”
He handed me the box, which was surprisingly small and light. “As soon as you get home, set up a treatment. Remember, at least forty-five minutes. Then put on the compression garment and leave the knee elevated as long as you can. Understand?”
His dark brown eyes moved from me to Leslie and back again. Once he was sure we’d understood his orders, he clapped his hands together and stood. “It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Cavanaugh. I cannot conclude this meeting without saying that I was a big fan. I have already expressed my thanks to Mr. Newsome for his recommendation. I look forward to treating you.”
Leslie stood and took the box from my lap so I could maneuver myself out of the chair. We inched out of the door and back to the waiting room, where TC and Kendrick were still sitting.
“Sorry, ya’ll. I was expecting him to drag out scheduling the MRI and CAT scans. Didn’t know he had all that stuff on site, but at least I don’t have to come back.”
“You don’t have to come back?” TC repeated. “So no surgery?”
We walked out of the clinic together, Kendrick and Leslie in front, TC and I falling behind. “Not right now. We’re going to try cryotherapy, rest and elevation. That should get me through the election and then we’ll take it from there.”
“Did you like him? Was he nice? Did he seem knowledgeable?”
I laughed, looping my free arm around my sister, my caretaker, the person who knew more of my business than anyone. “He was great, T. Really. Leslie came through the good recommend from Dwayne. He said he was a fan.”
From her expression, TC didn’t seem impressed, but that didn't mean anything. She was built to see through bullshit. After so many years of handling my affairs, she could spot a doctor trying to scam free tickets and NBA gear from a mile away.
TC and Kendrick left to get the car. Leslie was trying to read the directions that came with the cryotherapy machine. I dipped my head to drop a kiss on her cheek.
Her head popped up, turning toward me, so I grabbed a taste of her lips before she could open them to say something.
“Uh…” She blinked a couple of times, and then smiled. “What was that for? I mean… thank you. But… are you okay?”
I gave her a deep, resolute nod. “I’m more than okay. I wanted to say thanks for being here with me today. I’m glad you came. I’m glad you made me make this appointment, and did all the legwork with getting the recommend and everything. And taking the day off, considering your salon is poppin’ lately.”
Leslie rose up onto her toes so her lips could capture mine. The kiss was interrupted by a loud honk from the Escalade. Kendrick was driving, and pulled it up close to the curb.
“Ya’ll two get in back with all that cakin’,” he called out.
I was happy to climb in the backseat, prop up my knee and lean against Leslie for the ride back to Potter Lake.
“KC, I’ll bring your wings to you, if you want to relax in the living room. You don’t have to sit there with your leg propped up and the machine running.”
Monica smirked from the kitchen, apron tied around her body, elbow deep in wings coated in Thai Curry Lime sauce. I hadn’t had her wings in months. The girls wanted to get together to watch the finale of some silly dating show, but Leslie didn’t want to leave me to fend for myself. Somehow she talked me into inviting everyone to watch the show — which I would only allow if wings were on the menu.
So I was posted up at the dining room table with Erik and Kendrick and we had a good poker game going while the tempting scent of wings filled the air. Leslie arranged a stack of pillows on a chair so my leg could still be elevated and the cryosleeve was running, sending a current of freezing cold, compressed air around my knee. It was unnerving at first, but after the first few treatments, it felt good, to the point where I craved it and couldn’t wait for my next treatment.
I wished I’d had the option back when I was playing, because it was working. I could stand and bend my knee a little… enough to function, but still not full strength.
“Nah,” I said, arranging the poker cards I held in my hand. “I want to be close to the greatness. Besides, I don’t want to get sauce all over my couch.”
“And he wouldn’t dare leave his poker hand, considering he’s hot tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m hot.” I tossed a poker chip into the center of the table. “I raise y’all sorry asses five.”
Erik grimaced, staring at his hand, but tossed a chip in. “Ay, just keep in mind that my bank account doesn’t look like yours.”
“We’re not playing for real money, dumbass.” Kendrick tossed in a chip and rearranged his cards. He glanced down at the slumbering baby in the Bjorn he was wearing before asking, “Right? KC?”
I laughed, not answering, and plunked down a card. “Depends. How lucky are you feeling tonight?”
Tamera came from the living room and stood behind Erik, bent over his shoulder. She plopped a noisy wet kiss on his cheek, then stole a look at his cards. “Ooh, I hope you’re not playing for real money. Erik ain’t got shit.”
“Damn!” He threw his cards down onto the table in front of him. Kendrick and I burst into laughter. “I was trying to bluff, Tam!”
“Well, you suck at it.” She bent to give him another kiss and walked past him to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, uncapped it and look a long sip. “The Suitor is about to start, Monica. You still slaving away in here for these men?”
“Hey, Tamera, Leslie didn’t tell you? There’s a water tax, now. Five dollars for a bottle. Pay up.”
I thought she’d ignore me like usual, but she didn’t. She stared right at me as she brought the bottle to her lips and drank a few more gulps. Then belched. I shook my head. “You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”
“Yup,” she answered, sauntering past the table ag
ain, stopping to cup Erik’s chin. “And he loves it.”
“I do, actually,” Erik muttered.
“You know Erik is a little touched in the head, right?”
She moved a few steps over and stopped right in front of me. “Stop being mean to me, KC. Or I’m going to tell Leslie, and you don’t want that. Or do you?”
“I ain’t scared of—”
“Les, come get your man and his big mouth!”
“I didn’t even say anything to you!”
“If I have to come in there I am kicking asses!” I heard from the living room. I snickered. “Tamera! Monica! The show is starting. Get in here!”
Monica untied her apron and laid it on the counter, shouting orders as she rushed through the room. “When the timer goes off, pull the wings out of the oven. Paper plates and napkins are on the counter.”
Erik and Kendrick grunted their agreement. Erik had picked up his cards again. “Yo, I thought you folded.”
He angled his head, and screwed his lips to the side. “If I look at my hand with my good eye… I might can make something of it. Let’s play.”
After a few more rounds, I’d eaten a plate of wings and taken all of their chips. Though we really weren’t playing for money, it was still a blow to the ego. The cryotherapy had long since finished. I needed to switch to the cold pack ice sleeve but Leslie was still watching her show. Erik, who actually watched The Suitor, had escaped to the living room after the last brutal beating.
I ripped the velcro ties off of the leg-length sleeve and disconnected the tubing, wrapping it up neatly in the machine. “You mind grabbing my other sleeve out of the freezer? Getting around is a pain in the ass.”
“No problem,” Kendrick offered. “I’ll clean up some of this mess Monica made, too.” Kendrick started to get up, but Amerie, who had been peacefully sleeping all night, started to stir.
Without even thinking, I reached for her. I’d never reached for a baby in my life, but my arms automatically opened. Kendrick looked at me… then looked again. “Do you even know what to do with a baby? You know you don’t bounce her around like a basketball, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t break her, I promise.”
He unhooked the Bjorn and pulled the baby out of the contraption that had held her close to him all night. She was a tiny little Hershey’s Kiss with dark curly hair and an itty bitty nose and huge brown eyes… so fragile but amazingly one whole complete human being. I held her in the crook of my arm and stared at her. She stared back like she expected me to say something to her.
So I said, “Hi, Amerie.” She cooed and squirmed and balled up her fists, but didn’t cry. I considered that a victory.
“You want me to put this on?” Kendrick asked, holding my portable sleeve.
“Yeah, man, if you could. I’m busy choppin’ it up with your baby girl.”
“I knew it. I knew it!” Erik came storming into the kitchen. “I knew that Boris Kodjoe look alike asshole was gonna win. With his corny ass—”
I punched him in the arm as he walked by me, then pointed at the baby. “You mind? Young ears.”
“She can’t understand me, man. She’s a baby.”
“Delicate ears, then. Shut up.” Erik sucked his teeth and tiptoed to the refrigerator.
“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to watch the finale if he made it—heyyyy.” Leslie had come from the living room and stopped cold when she saw me. Her left eyebrow cocked up and she asked, “How did you end up with the baby?”
“I needed my ice pack. Kendrick got it so I said I’d hold the baby. I promised not to break her.”
Leslie bent over me to peer at Amerie, who was getting sleepy again. “She’s beautiful. And so little.”
“Yeah. She’s lighter than a basketball.”
Leslie giggled, then kissed my cheek, then whispered in my ear, “I kind of like you with a baby in your arms.”
I knew for sure that she wasn’t expecting me to say it, but when I opened my mouth and, “we better get busy making one,” fell out, she jumped back, eyes wide. Then her lips twisted to the side and she smiled.
“In time, Mr. Cavanaugh. Mayorship first. Then… other stuff.”
Tamera took a seat at the table next to Erik. Both had helped themselves to a beer. “Beer is even more expensive than water. Like $10 a bottle. I hope ya’ll are planning to pay up before you leave.”
“Stop it, KC,” Leslie called from the kitchen. “You know good and well beer is only $7.”
Later that night, after we’d ushered everyone out and, for real, hassled Erik for $7 for the beer he drank, Leslie helped me hobble up the stairs. “Its funny how I was so worried about my mom getting around in this house and I need you to get up the stairs.”
Leslie laughed, both of her arms around my waist so I could lean on her as we made our way down the hallway and then into the bedroom. “We made it,” she said, heaving a breath and falling out across the bed. Much more slowly, I maneuvered myself to the bed and laid next to her.
“Hey Les... earlier… I mean…”
Leslie rolled over, looping a leg over mine and grabbed my face, turning my head toward hers. She moved in for a long, slow kiss that I really, really enjoyed. “I’m not holding you to the babies comment,” she said softly. “So relax. It was a moment and it was cute. But we should really talk about stuff before we make big decisions.”
“I was serious, though. I know things between us are so different, so fast. And I’m not trying to rush or anything. Just…if you want that—”
“I know,” she whispered, laying a finger over my lips. “But like I said… first things first. Let’s not get caught up. Let’s make wise decisions. When it’s time to make them.”
“Les… do you doubt that this is good? That this is real?”
She shook her head. “I don’t doubt a thing. Really. I just want to be ready.”
“And you’re not. Okay. I got it.” I sat up and busied myself with pulling off my t-shirt.
“Are you really having a temper tantrum because I’m not acting like all your groupie girlfriends, practicing using your last name and poking holes in your condoms so I can have your baby and be set for life? I didn’t say I wouldn’t ever be ready. And I’m not saying I’m not wildly happy right now, because I am.”
She sat up and scooted next to me, then looped her arm around mine and leaned her head on my shoulder. “I’m just saying…” Her soft lips played on my skin as she spoke. “We have a big fish to fry. The biggest ever. Let’s get through that. And then let’s make all the plans and decisions we want. I want you to be focused on this election, KC. It’s important.”
I hung my head, knowing she was right. But I’d spent a long time thinking about her, wondering about her, wishing I could talk to her. Now I had her in my arms and didn’t want to lose her.
But she was already in my bed every night and had pretty much moved into my house. She had a key and a spot in the garage and a security code. She was getting mail already, somehow and the neighbors greeted her like she had always lived here. She probably… likely… possibly wasn’t going anywhere.
“Aight, then. We stick a pin in it for now. But win or lose… we win. Right?”
Leslie offered her pinky for our patented pinky swear. “Right. Now let’s get you ready for bed. You have an interview tomorrow and I don’t want bags under your eyes.”
Chapter 26
Leslie
* * *
“That girl was dumb as a sack of hair. Everybody knew all of her business, and if they didn’t know, they were as dumb as she was.”
One of my favorite customers, Sylvia, sat in my chair, angled so that she could regale the place with a hilarious story about one of her former coworkers at the textile mill. Every chair was occupied and there were a few people waiting for a spot to open up.
The chairs KC had “lent” us had kicked off a small facelift for the shop. Erik, Tamera and I had spent a weekend priming and painting the interior of
the shop, giving it a fresh coat of brilliant white paint. I’d ordered posters and frames online and hung them, interspersing them with a few vintage photographs of some of Potter Lake’s oldest residents, including Grandy and Earline. Nothing kept her from her weekly hair appointments and she was less salty as time went by, especially when she learned that KC wasn’t planning to hire a new secretary. If she wanted to work for the new Mayor, she was welcome to stay.
We had business coming out of our eyeballs and I couldn’t be happier about it. Tamera and I had both been coming in early and staying late, just to serve the additional clients. We hired Patrice, the girl whose hair we had rescued from a dye job gone disastrous, as a part time shampoo girl. Her grandmother figured it would keep her busy, and working at a salon would teach her about how to better care for her hair.
Evonne was an official full-time stylist and she was busy, too. Gisele, thank goodness, decided to look for a job in Healy. Last I heard, she was working a chair at a Dominican salon and the grapevine told me that she wasn’t doing well. I rejoiced that she wasn’t my problem anymore, and once I got rid of the space she occupied, I had more room for spa services. I was on the hunt for a masseuse to come in a few days a week and I had my eye on a couple of spa pedicure chairs.
And then Frank Crawford walked in with an air conditioning unit under his arm. It was one of those that had to be installed in the window, but I was a beggar that was not choosing. The fall season was well under way but some days with people, hair dryers, plus the hot utensils and the machines in the back, the temperature still rose above a comfortable level.
“You and that young man been doing so much for this side of the lake, lately,” said Frank, “I thought it would be nice to repay you with a little something.”
I was moved beyond words, and though I suspected KC was involved, he swore on everything that he had nothing to do with the generous gift.
So on days like today, when I’d been on my feet serving customers since early that morning, at least I was cool and comfortable, which I appreciated as I ran a hot flat iron through sections of Sylvia’s shoulder-length hair.