CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I was never so relieved to be done with customers for the day. Mali had asked me to take a walk-in after that confusing session with Kael. I don’t know if it was my general distraction or if it was the client, but nothing I did was good enough for her. The pressure was too light, then it was too heavy. The room was too cold. Could she have two blankets—but when they made her feet too hot, could I take one away? And could I please blow out the candle because the fragrance was giving her a headache?
And though the session felt like a test from the universe, she could do little to keep me from thinking about Kael. My mood had improved and my imagination started to invent a sympathetic story about this woman. I made every accommodation and even tried to rationalize her behavior: was she overworked or in a shitty marriage? Maybe this was the only time when she could let her anger out. Better me than her kids, or family, or even herself. I started feeling sorry for her; everyone has a bad day. Even when she said my nails needed to be clipped . . . but then she left without giving me a tip and I may have flipped her off as she walked out the door.
The new client Mali gave me for one o’clock was okay, thank goodness. The walk-in after that was fine, too—a pretty young woman from the yoga studio the next block over. Her skin was soft and she fell asleep almost as soon as she lay down, no tense muscles to work out.
I was happy to call it a day and to be heading home.Thank God.Mali had offered me some ibuprofen, and that helped turn down the volume in my throbbing head. But I still felt like complete crap. I was anxious and annoyed and nothing was helping. All I could think of was flopping down in bed with the blinds drawn and the covers over my head. After a full day of appointments and such an emotionally turbulent week, I craved darkness and quiet.
I walked along the alley and as I rounded the corner to my house, I saw him waiting for me on the porch. My biggest problem and biggest relief wrapped up and delivered directly to my front door.
Kael.
He seemed distracted by something, sitting there with AirPods in and a faraway look in his eyes. He was so in his own world, he almost didn’t see me approach.
“Did you come for a refund?” I asked, trying to keep it light. I wasn’t at all bothered that he was there. I wasn’t nervous. No, I wasn’t. Nope. Not at all. I was cool. I hadn’t let him get to me, not the way he thought he did. Not me.
“No refund,” he said, shaking his head. “I think we should finish our conversation.”
“Oh? And which conversation is that?” I was playing it coy and he knew it. Cat and mouse.
“About last night.” He waved a hand between us.
“We definitely finished that conversation. Drama-free friends, remember?”
“But did we finish it?” He paused, then said quietly, “It felt like you wanted something more.”
“What?” I laughed at that. “We’re not dating. We don’t even have each other’s phone numbers,” I said through a forced, fake laugh, reminding myself and him.
Kael pulled his phone out and mine started to vibrate in my pocket. The familiar 706 area code appeared with a number I didn’t recognize.
“I got yours from your boss.” He smiled. “I think she has a sweet spot for me.”
I was shocked that Mali would do such a thing. “Mali doesn’t have a sweet spot for anyone! And that’s illegal.”
“Technically, yes.”
“Well, anyway, illegal or not, we’re definitely not dating, that was my point.” I backpedaled, sort of wishing I had let it go and moved on.
“Agreed. But what do people who are dating actually do? I mean, besides sex, obviously.”
I shrugged. “They run errands together. They pick each other up from doctor’s appointments and airports. They grocery-shop. And do things to make each other’s lives easier,” I explained, acknowledging to myself that we were already slipping into these domesticated routines.
Kael held an orange in his hand. It was a big orange, but small in his hand, with the little Sunkist sticker still on it. He was massaging it gently with his thumb, but hadn’t broken into the peel yet.
“Have you never dated anyone?” I was curious.
“Yeah, I’ve dated. It was enough to last me a lifetime.”
“Oh, that much?” I asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as that news made me feel.
He responded quickly. “The Army and dating don’t go well together.”
“So you’re telling me you never considered getting married? Everyone else does it.”
“That’s hardly the reason to tie my life to someone else’s. Getting married has to be about more than easy benefits and a better paycheck. It means something more to me.”
“Good point.” At least we were on the same page when it came to the casual marriages around us. “So did you stop dating when you enlisted?”