Touch

by Kris Bryant

  “Hello, beautiful girl. How are you doing today? What are we building?” I drop to my knees next to her and watch as she struggles to stack the blocks taller than herself. Alaina is one of my favorites. She fell out of a second story window after climbing up on the windowsill and leaning her full body weight against the screen. Thankfully, a tree under the window broke her fall. We’re working on getting mobility back after she dislocated her shoulder and elbow. The bruises are already starting to fade.

  “Hi, Miss Hayley. I’m going to make this taller than you.” She bites her lip as she concentrates and wills her body to stretch so she can keep stacking.

  “Have you stretched the right way today?” I look to Matt, the other pediatric therapist, who nods. He gets my patients ready when I get lost in paperwork. I don’t think she’s ready for the miniature rock wall yet so, after a few more minutes stacking blocks, we head over to the soft, climbable zoo animals that are the biggest attraction of the therapy room. Judging by the way she is scampering over the zebra and hippo, I think Alaina’s PT will be over soon. I’m sad, but glad to be a part of her healing. I work with Alaina for another thirty minutes until her session is over and spend some time with her parents. I like the whole family. They were the first ones to volunteer to help out at our fund-raiser for the Children’s Dream Maker organization. We raise a lot of money every year as thankful patients and parents donate time and money to help us. It’s an end of the summer carnival with fun things for kids to do including game booths and low impact bounce houses. We don’t have rides because they are too much of a liability, but the kids have fun with the simplicity of what’s available. Alaina’s parents are in the restaurant business and are donating most of the food. Some of our patients donate money. It’s open to the public, but a lot of our patients, existing and past, bring their friends and it’s so wonderful to see. Kids being kids again, injuries gone or in the process of healing. The Children’s Dream Maker organization sends over ambassadors with a few Dream Maker children who are able to participate as well. It’s a feel good event on every level. I’m in charge of drinks, the kid-friendly kind only. The hard stuff comes out when we are cleaning up afterwards.

  “I’m so excited to be a part of this,” Desiree, Alaina’s mom, says. The sincerity on her face is unmistakable.

  “It’s always so much fun. The kids have a great time and it’s for a good cause,” I say.

  “Do you need anything else from us?” she asks.

  I remember the flyers Gloria created and hand her a stack. “If you put these somewhere in your restaurant where your patrons can pick one up, that would be great.”

  “Oh, we can even pass them around the neighborhood,” Desiree says. I refrain from hugging her.

  “You have done so much already. Thank you,” I say. If all of this goes well, I think this will be the biggest turnout yet.

  Chapter Four

  I’m actually nervous. It’s almost three thirty and I know that Stone will be here any minute. Since our initial sessions will be mainly stretching her out, I’m having her meet me in therapy room A. Gloria said I need to work with her, but she didn’t specify where. Matt will be working with his last patient of the day, an adorable eight-year-old who lost his leg due to a severe infection. Watching Davis walk with a prosthetic leg truly puts things into perspective. Maybe Stone will see that there are worse cases than hers. I grab my clipboard with the measurements and stats that we collected last Thursday and head down to the kid-friendly workout gymnasium. Stone is already there, sitting at one of the kids’ tables, her cumbersome boot stretched out in front of her. I watch as she observes Davis out of the corner of her eye. I give her a few minutes, probably more than I should, so that I can watch her and gauge her reaction to him. When I do open the door, Stone looks directly at me, those blue eyes still blazing, but this time they are a little softer.

  “Hello, Stone. How’s the leg?” I ask.

  “Miss Hayley. Hello. Look at how well I’m walking,” Davis interrupts. He walks over and high-fives me.

  “Davis. Look at you! I almost didn’t recognize you with the way you were racing around here.” I’m rewarded with a huge smile.

  “I can jump now, too.” He hops up and down and I can’t help but clap. Children really are resilient. I turn back to Stone after he hops off to work with Matt again. Her face holds very little emotion, but I have to think that entire exchange affected her.

  “Are you ready to get started?”

  She nods. “I did everything you told me to over the weekend. I spelled the alphabet with my ankle, kept my leg elevated and on ice. I was the exemplary patient.” This time her smile is sincere and it almost takes my breath away.

  I stumble over my words a bit. “Fantastic. Let’s get started. I’m going to start off with a deep tissue massage. This will help your ankle a lot, I promise, but you will hate it while I’m doing it. It’s designed to prevent scar tissue.” She gasps when I dig my fingers into her ankle. I’m more careful with her leg. I quickly realize that Stone isn’t easily distracted when I chat so I stay quiet. By the end of the twenty minute massage, she’s sweating and not in a good way.

  “I deserve something special after that abuse.” She groans, but then she winks at me. I roll my eyes, but I give her a break for ten minutes while I treat her to an ultrasound. It’s painless and soothing.

  “You were so right. I hate you and love you at the same time,” she says.

  My breath hitches at her warm and gravelly voice. “Patients get excited about the massages until they actually receive one. It takes a little bit of time to get used to them, but by the end of this, you’ll be putty in my hands,” I say. I avoid all eye contact because that sounded way more sexual than it was supposed to.

  We exchange only a few words over the next forty-five minutes. Sweat beads on her brow. She has worked hard and wants to push herself even harder, but I have to pace her. We finish with the stretches and I tell her to lie back on the table for a cool down exercise.

  “I know this is frustrating as you get used to walking and bending again, but you just have to trust me that I know what you need.” Stone raises her eyebrow at me and I have the decency to blush. We’re quiet for a few minutes while she rests and elevates her leg.

  “So what happened to that kid?” she asks.

  “Davis? He had a bone infection. He’s been coming here for weeks and has proven to be one tough little dude,” I say.

  “Do you have any kids of your own?”

  “Me? No. I don’t know that we will. Alison doesn’t really want them.” I inwardly groan. I can’t believe I just shared something so personal with a patient.

  Stone snorts and then quickly apologizes. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m just shocked. I mean, you work with kids and from what I’ve seen, you’re good with them,” she says.

  I shrug. Before Alison, I wanted at least two. She convinced me that kids would be a burden and we would lose ourselves in the process. “What about you? Are you planning on having kids?”

  She laughs. “Well, I haven’t really given it a lot of thought. I’ve been pretty busy with hockey the last twenty-four years of my life.”

  “No girlfriend?” Again, I scold myself for getting personal.

  She shakes her head. “No time really. Most of my relationships take place off season.” That makes me sad. Her whole life has been hockey. I help her put her boot on, satisfied that the swelling is minimal.

  “Okay, you’re all set. Stay elevated tonight. Same time tomorrow, okay?” She slides off the table and grabs her crutches.

  “Thanks, Doc. See you then.” I watch as she hobbles over to the doorway.

  I find myself still smiling minutes after she’s gone. I understand why Gloria wants me to work with Stone. She’s eager like a kid and just as unaware. I have a feeling she would push herself too hard and would reinjure her leg. Tomorrow, we’ll have to talk about her limits. I’ll draw up a timeline of where she should be in the
healing process and when she can do certain activities. I’m sure she’s itching to get back out on the ice, but she’s weeks away from even trying it.

  Chapter Five

  “Why am I so sensitive to touch?” Stone is sprawled out on the table and I’m giving her the dreaded massage. I’m sure she thinks I’m trying to kill her.

  “Your leg is still healing and you have to learn how to feel again.” Why does everything I say sound sexual? “How did it feel when you got your cast off?”

  “Unbelievably stiff. Is that normal?”

  “Your leg was in a hard cast for weeks with zero mobility. Yes, it’s perfectly normal and exactly what you needed to heal the bone. The hard part is done. Now we need to focus on getting your ankle to move your foot up and down, to the left, and to the right. It’ll take time. I know it’s frustrating, but you are kind of learning how to do things all over again.” She makes a grunting noise before falling back on the table.

  “I hate that this is taking so long,” she says. I feel bad that this is only the end of the second week. She’s entirely too competitive to hold back.

  “How about some good news? I have two patients who are starting water therapy next week. I think that might be good for you. Are you a good swimmer? We would start off slow and just see how well you handle it.”

  “I learned to swim before I could walk.”

  “You have a swimmer’s build. Why did you pick ice hockey over swimming?” Again, I’m getting too personal with Stone. Did I really just mention her body?

  “I like going fast. I can swim fast, but only as fast as my body will let me. On skates, I can reach speeds up to fifteen or even twenty miles an hour. It’s such a freedom. Besides, here in the northeast you’re practically born with skates on. Are you from here, Doc? Did you skate any as a child?”

  The thought is foreign to me. “I’m from here, but my passion growing up was always dance. I took tap, ballet, and ballroom lessons.”

  She looks me over. “That’s about right.”

  “What does that mean? I don’t look like a badass hockey player?” I grit my teeth and snarl at her. She laughs and playfully touches my arm. Her hand is warm and makes me inwardly shiver. Not professional, I scold myself. This is just friendly banter.

  “You are entirely too nice to be a hockey player. I can’t imagine you getting checked against the wall.” I assume she means brutally crushed up against the side of the rink. Those checks always make their way to the news during the hockey highlight reels.

  “Are you kidding me? Do you know who I am?” I’m rewarded with a hefty laugh.

  “Stop. What damage could you do? You are so slight,” she says. I shiver again when I watch her eyes slowly travel over my body.

  “I’ll have you know that I’m a red belt in tae kwon do, thank you very much.” I put my hand on my hip and glare at her.

  “Huh. I didn’t think you had it in you to kick some ass,” she says.

  “You’re not the only tough one here.” I lift my eyebrow at her. “My father insisted that I learn some form of discipline, besides dance, and some self-defense. Tae kwon do was the answer.”

  “Do you still practice?”

  “I haven’t in years, but it’s like riding a bike. I just need to get back to it.”

  “Why don’t you then?”

  “I’m kind of busy right now with patients and planning a wedding,” I say.

  “When is the big day?”

  “October twentieth.” I hand her the ice pack and tell her to relax for a bit. Today’s exercises were hard, but she pushed through them with minimal complaining. She really isn’t as difficult as Gloria portrayed her to be.

  “That’s coming up. That’s the start of our season,” she says. Sooner than I’d like. I take a deep breath. I really need to get those invitations out in the mail today. I keep forgetting to do that. I wheel over to the desk and make my notes in Stone’s file. “Are you getting excited?” I frown because I’m not, but then I smile weakly at her.

  “There’s a lot going on so it’s hard to say if I’m excited or stressed.” At least I’m being honest. She grimaces at me.

  “Where are you having your wedding? Where’s the venue?”

  Simple questions. I like that. “We are staying local, the Grande Theatre. Contrary to the name and place, it really is a simple wedding. I would have been happy eloping.”

  She nods. “Yeah, I’m all for running away, too. I’ve seen so many weddings in my life. My parents run Stone Orchard and it’s amazing how many people want to get married there.”

  “You’re kidding. I love that place! I actually was going there after work to pick up some cider and apples. I bake when I’m stressed.” She laughs when I groan and smack my forehead playfully. “I should have connected the names.”

  “I grew up there. It’s a great place for a kid. Forty acres of apple trees and barns. And it’s just up the street from the practice rink,” she says.

  We’re quiet again for a few minutes. I’m very aware of the silence and I can feel when she’s looking at me. My pulse races. “So why do you go by Stone?” She leans on her elbows so she can face me. I forbid myself to look at her body even though that pose—one knee up, breasts pressed against her T-shirt—is sexy as hell.

  “Coaches call you by your last name. Even the players do. Also, I’ve never acted like an Elizabeth.” She pushes her messy hair back. “If you want, I can give you a tour of the orchard.” We both look down at her leg in a brace and her crutch nearby.

  “No, it’s okay. You need to rest anyway.”

  Stone laughs. “We have an all-terrain vehicle. A golf cart on steroids. We can take that.” I waver. I don’t like for my personal and professional lives to cross and I think Stone might be a red flag in both. “C’mon. It will be fun. I promise not to monopolize your time.” She looks so hopeful.

  “Okay. If you don’t mind, that would be nice.” So much for listening to my own reasoning and all of the dangerous warning signs going off in my head.

  “Do you want to just leave from here? Or is that Elite taboo?”

  I don’t think that’s a problem. I silence the tiny alarms again. “I can drive. Is somebody picking you up though?”

  She quickly types something on her phone. “Not anymore.” I’m so happy I’m sitting down because the devilish smile she gives me is extremely suggestive. I quickly look down at my paperwork and write down miscellaneous notes in the margins to look busy. This is going to be a long evening.

  Chapter Six

  “You are probably so tired of apples, having lived here your whole life.”

  Stone plucks an apple off of a nearby low hanging branch, studies it, and polishes it against her sweatshirt. She hands it to me. “There are so many things you can do with apples. I love to bake and cook. The trick is to find different things you can do with them,” she says.

  “Do you work here, too?” I ask.

  She laughs. “Oh, God, no. It pained me to temporarily move back when I busted my leg. I love my parents, but once you leave home, it’s hard to return. In all fairness, my mom has been fantastic with me. It’s just hard, you know?”

  “Where do you live?” I ask.

  “Why, Doc, are you into making house calls?” She playfully raises her eyebrow at me. I blush and stammer. She saves me. “I live in the city in a decent condo. It’s not a place for crutches and my mom insisted that I stay with them. It hasn’t been too bad. Like I said, it’s a lot closer to the practice rink up the street.”

  “Is that where the whole team practices?” I don’t remember it being grandiose enough for a professional National Women’s Hockey League team.

  She shakes her head at me and laughs. “How do you not know a single thing about hockey? You’re the only lesbian on Earth, all of Earth, who doesn’t.”

  I laugh. “It’s just not my thing. I’ll tell you what. When I think you’re ready for skating, we can have our PT session at the mysterious rink up the stree
t from the orchard.”

  “It’s just a local rink. I just go there for extra practice time. The team practices on the same rink we play on, Bushnell Arena, which is downtown. Also within walking distance of my place.” Hockey really is her life. “Wait, so if we have our session at the rink, does that mean I will get you on skates?”

  I lean back and wave my hands at her. “Now, I didn’t say that. I would just monitor you and your movements.”

  “So, you want to watch me?” My face is now the same color as my shirt, bright red. She’s so flirty and for just a brief moment, I forget that she is my patient. A few seconds later, I realize this dalliance isn’t acceptable.

  “You know, watch your leg and ankle, make sure you are strong enough for your weight again and see how you move on ice. That won’t happen for at least another week or two, so don’t get any ideas.” I wisely ignore her innuendo. I pretend to be really interested in something ahead of us on the trail instead. I think she realizes she crossed the line because she slips back into apple orchard tour guide. It’s getting dark out.

  “Let’s swing by the store and get you some apples.” We’re quiet on the trip back to the barn. I patiently follow her to the front door. She is now down to one crutch and walking surprisingly well.

  “Do you sometimes use your crutch as a hockey stick? Or do I even want to know this?”

  “Only on the pets,” she says. My jaw drops open and she laughs. “No, Doc. I’m just teasing. I love the pets here. Besides, the stick is completely different than a crutch. Although when I was a kid and I got mad, I would head out to the orchard and hit the apples on the ground with my hockey stick. Great anger management, and gave me a killer upper body workout.” Her arms are incredible. Toned and sinewy. No, wait. I scold myself. It’s just nice to see a woman in the shape Stone’s in. Obviously, she takes care of herself. She probably hates carbs, too. “What kind of apples do you use to make pies?”