Page 27 of Hot for the Hockey Player
He shook his head.“Not for fun.Shit happened with my girlfriend Raina’s son.Guys kidnapped him, I … got him back.”
My mouth dropped open.“You’re kidding?”
Sliding a sideways glance at me, he snorted.“I’m not the type to walk around with a cane as a fashion statement.”
“Right ...I’ve never had acupuncture, believe it or not.I’ve had IMS, and dry needling, but never acupuncture.”
“Freaking love it, man.Same with cupping,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his knee with his right hand.“Suvi treats me like a human pincushion and balances my chakras, chi, and stops my knee from making this horrible clicking sound.”He stuck his left leg out and bent it a few times where it did, in fact, make a nasty clicking noise.
I made a face.“You might want to get that looked at.”
His throaty chuckle was interrupted by a short, curvy, Indian woman coming around the corner.“Jagger, are we ready?”
With the help of his cane, Jagger slowly got to his feet and spread one arm wide.“Do your voodoo magic on me, Suvi.I’m ready for you.”He glanced over his shoulder at me.“See you later, Mav.”Then the bearded giant with blue eyes and round wire-rimmed glasses followed the woman half his height into one of the treatment rooms.
“You’re Maverick?”the receptionist asked.
I slid my gaze her way and smiled.“I am, yes.”
“And you filled out the forms online, correct?”
“I did.”
“Maz will be with you shortly.He’s just preparing the therapy room.”
“Thank you.”
I returned to my phone, reading the highlights from last night’s game and smiling mostly to myself that we beat Detroit, two-nothing.Woodman scored one of those, and assisted on the other.I shot him a quick congratulatory text.
“Maverick?”asked a deep voice, with a thick Eastern European accent.
“Yes.”I stood up and shook Rolph’s hand.
“Nice to meet you.I’m Maz.Please, follow me.”
I released his big hand and followed the broad-shouldered Ukrainian man down the terracotta-colored hallway toward a wide-open, exercise gym-style space.There were several yoga mats, a few treatment tables, yoga balls, various resistance bands, a few treadmills, recumbent and stand-up stationary bikes, and more.Everything you would expect from a rehab and physiotherapy center.
“You can have a seat on the table if you’d like, so I can first examine you,” Maz said, holding out his hand toward the table.
I did as I was told.“I really appreciate you taking me on,” I said.“I’m sure your schedule is pretty full.”
“I have a very good work-life balance.I never take on more clients than I want or can handle.My peace is very important to me,” he said, walking behind me.“I’m going to examine your back now.”
“You want me to take off my shirt?”
“Please.”
I yanked my dark-gray Henley over my head and set it to the side.
He gently probed my back around where my small surgical scars were and hummed a few times.
“I bought a dozen of your eggs yesterday and had a couple for breakfast this morning,” I said, not particularly liking the silence and feeling the need to fill it with mindless chatter.“They were delicious.The yolk was as orange as a pumpkin.”
He hummed some more.“It is because we feed them pumpkin.And other nutrient rich foods like red cabbage, greens, yams, and carrots.They are very happy chickens.They follow my wife around the yard like little fluffy shadows.They love her so much.”
That made me smile.“I could sense their happiness in the eggs.”
His laugh was a quick one syllable through his nose.“Okay.We’re going to do some simple stretches today.I will get you to join me on the floor on a yoga mat.You can put your shirt back on.”
