Page 41 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
The whole place was dimly lit, with sage green walls and cream accents. A jug of water with lemon and cucumber slices in it sat on a table with an assortment of teas. Everything was hush hush. Quiet music played.
A teenager behind the counter looked up at me with enthusiasm. “Are you here for an appointment?”
I nodded and gave her my name. She had me take a seat, then she busied herself with the computer, went in the back, came over and handed me a robe and slippers. She pointed me to the women’s restroom.
“You can change in there.”
The restroom was unlike any I’d ever been in before. Warm temperature and low lighting, it had places to lounge, tons of individual toiletries, lockers, and all sorts of baskets for placing towels.
I was all alone.
Still, I looked around as I took off my clothes and placed them in the locker. When I slipped my arms into the robe, I discovered immediately that the “One Size Fits All” didn’t include me. I couldn’t tie it and it barely closed.
Jeez. What a way to make me feel like I was an oddball.
I did my best to cover myself, and grabbed a towel to hold over the open part of the robe. Then I went back into the waiting room.
What happened during a massage? Did I have to take off all of my clothes? Did I need to show them my body?
This was a bad idea. I’d surely be the biggest one they had. Right as I got up to go back into the locker room to put on my clothes, a tiny, dark-haired woman came out and called my name. She gave off this contradictory energy of both excited to see me and immensely calm.
“I’m Clarisse,” she said in a gentle voice.
“Jessica,” I said, and I let go of my robe to shake her hand, hoping I wasn’t flashing her.
She walked me to a small room. When we went inside, like the rest of the spa, it was warm, but not too warm. Dim, but not too dim. Tiny bottles lined up like toy soldiers along the counter. A massage table stood in the middle of the room. Ethereal music played.
“Take everything off and start face down,” Clarisse said.
I was taken aback. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
She looked at me kindly. “Is this your first massage?”
“Yes, my first one ever.”
She smiled. “Then I hope this will be a treat. You might be surprised. Does anything hurt?”
“I hurt all over from starting an exercise regimen.”
“We should be able to work that out. Beware. Massages can work out emotions too, not just sore muscles. We’ll see what comes up. When you’re ready, just leave the robe on this hook and crawl in under the sheet, and I’ll come in and work on you.”
After she left the room, I hung up the robe, shucked off the slippers, and stood in the middle of the room naked. I wasn’t used to going to a business and taking off all of my clothes and standing there.
I ached. I felt fat and weird, naked.
I climbed up on the bed, put my face in a little padded donut covered in terrycloth, and tried to cover myself as best as I could with the sheet.
To my surprise, the table emanated heat below me.
I could fall asleep like this and have a dreamless night. I’d drift, free from nightmares. I already felt peaceful.
With a low, quiet knock at the door, Clarisse reentered.
She started bustling about the table, tucking in the blanket and straightening it.
I was fully covered.
Then she started pulling my arms and legs to put them where she wanted. With a crisp movement, she folded the blanket down, exposing my bare back. I heard a squidgy noise like liquid and smelled lavender. She took an audible breath.
