“I DID IT!!!!!!”
Emma laughs, clapping her hands together. “Congrats, Austin. But also, play it cool, we have one more test.”
I can hear the words, but it doesn’t matter. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
Finally.
Once our session was done, I spent the rest of my day working on homework and exercises Emma requested of me. She’d explained how the hop test would look and gave me some performance indicators I could work on on my own in preparation. She also asked me to add visualization to my daily routine, something I used to do for mindset work but had dropped to the wayside in my depression around my injury. I’d promised her I would. I want to pass this test as much as I’m sure she wants me to so she can move onto the next victim…I mean patient.
After winding down with an hour of yoga and fifteen minutes of meditation and visualization, I walk into the living room and settle in on the couch, fingering my phone. I could call my mom and tell her, or Levi. But I want to see their faces when I tell them. Part of me wants to call Bex and tell her I’m sorry for how I acted, but the part of me that has received good news knows better. I’ve managed to make her feel unwelcome, yell at her, accidentally splash mud all over her, and now I can add slamming her foot in my door to that list.
Oof. If I were an emoji, I’d be the guy slapping his forehead. What a horrible idiot I’ve been. But this is one idiot who is going to make things right. As these thoughts dance around in my mind, I realize she’d said she was going to check in with me today and hadn’t, and she’s the kind of woman who I feel is true to her word.
Looking around the room, I realize this may be a fortuitous opening so I can talk to her. In no time at all, I’m throwing a sweatshirt on and heading out the door. I have the whole walk across the field to think about my actions. At least I can try to start things from ground zero and not be such a jerk now, right?
Movement across the field to my right catches my eye. When I look, I spot a familiar four-legged creature, charging across the length of the field to make it back home.
“Is she really going to try to tell me that dog isn’t hers?” I mutter, only to scold myself. That was the old Austin. The one who was reeling from his injury. This one, the one I want to be, isn’t bitter. At least, that’s how I was B.A.: Before Achilles.
When I knock on her door, I shouldn’t be surprised that her dog is suddenly at my feet. Hanging out with me like we’re old mates. I want to be right, to point to the animal and go “The dog’s here, so the dog’s yours!” but sometimes being right is really useless. I can’t put my finger on it, but I get the distinct feeling that this is one of those times.
Something moves on the other side of the door. The back porch light comes on, blinding me. Bex opens the door, her line of sight falling to the dog beside me, licking his front right paw.
“I told you, he’s not mine,” she says with a sigh. “If Grumpy Dwarf is angry with the sweet, stray dog, then he needs to talk about it with him. Not me.”
With a roll of her eyes, she goes to close the door. But I’m fast and stick my foot in its path, giving her a taste of her own medicine.
She glares at my foot. “I’d be careful if I were you. I seem to owe you a door slam onyourmetatarsals.”
Smirking, I point to my feet. “Steel-toe boots,” I say as I let a huge grin take over my face. I feel like a Ringling Brothers clown.
She brings that glare up about six feet, slamming her eyes into mine. “As someone once said to me, what’s going on that’s so important you can’t text?”
Sucks when your own words come back to bite you in the backside, doesn’t it? “I deserve that.”
Bex’s eyes light up and she leans against the door frame, throwing the back of her hand against her forehead and feigning as if she’s going to pass out. “I can’t believe it. Your mouth to my ears.”
I feel heat hitting my cheeks, embarrassment beginning to take over. Even though I want to hide, I came over here because I need to stop being a jerk and take responsibility for my actions. And I want to start with Bex.
“Look,” I shove my hands in my pockets, trying to stuff away my own vulnerability. “I came over to apologize.”
“For which part?” she asks, lips twisted in an evil smile. “The poop, the mud, the slamming of my foot in the door, making my life in my new house harder than it needs to be…”
“Okay.” I hold up my hands as if I’m going to surrender. “I get it. I have a lot to say I’m sorry for, but I’m here. Saying I’m sorry.”
“Are you just a boy standing in front of a girl asking her to love you?”
“Love? Who brought that up?” I didn’t say a word about feelings. It’s like we skipped a line at the amusement park. “You got the wrong impression—”
She throws her head back and laughs, the evil sliding off her features as the German shepherd pushes its way past us and makes its way into her house. For a dog that’s not hers, it looks really comfy moving around here.
“I was quoting a movie, goofball.Notting Hill.” She stares at me, then steps back waving her hand with a flourish. “I’m boiling water for some hot tea. Why don’t you come in and have a cup with me.”
I’ve got options here. I could say no, take the time to apologize for all of my sins, then head home to…do what? Sit on my couch? Maybe make some dinner, maybe order takeout? I could call my mom and tell her what Emma said…
The other option is to follow this beautiful, feisty woman inside her home and have that cup of tea. Do what a part of me has wanted to do since I found out she was moving here: get to know her more.
The other option doesn’t open me up to further disappointment, though. It’s safe. It’s how I like to play things and should play them so I can get back on the field as soon as possible. I mean, I can go back home now and make a list of all the things I need to do, like call my coach and see if he’s still as keen on having me around as Levi said he was, then I can see how soon I can get back into practice.
