Page 39 of Top Shelf
I realized I was making a weird noise deep in my chest. I shook my head, but he ignored me and walked over. His hands hovered above my shoulders like he wanted to touch but didn’t know how.
“Ferris,” he said again.
“Don’t touch me.”
He didn’t move. “Are you sure?”
I was lying. I wanted to be touched. I wanted to be held so tightly that I couldn’t breathe, but no one ever got that right. I shook my head, and he set his hands on either side of my thighs, fingers digging into the cushion of the exam table.
“Can you help me?”
“Tell me how.”
This was also not professional. This was not part of his job. I must have said that aloud because he sucked in a breath.
“That doesn’t matter. Something’s happening, and I want to help.”
“I need to scream, but I don’t want anyone to hear me.”
“I don’t think anyone’s here but…” He paused, then shoved himself between my parted legs and wrapped his arms around me. “Against my chest.”
“Tighter,” I told him, unable to stop myself. I was trembling all over.
He obeyed, and the tighter he held me, the more I couldn’t hold on. It was a volcano erupting. A dam breaking. A hurricane making landfall. Pressing my face into his chest, I let it all out. My throat was already constricted from the tension in my body, so all that came out was a raspy shout, but the longer it went on, the more I could feel my lungs relax.
Tears were falling now—I wasn’t crying, but they were just sort of dribbling from my lower eyelids. I took in a trembling breath, then coughed as I continued to shake. Then I realized no, I wasn’t shaking. He was rocking me—not too hard, but not too gently. It was side to side, then forward to back.
“I’m okay,” I said, my voice more of a gasp than anything. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
“You are. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I made just enough room between my face and his shirt to wipe a hand down my cheeks. His scrubs were dark with the tears I’d left behind.
“I’m so sorry. I knew that was going to be hard. I just didn’t realize how bad it would get.”
He eased back a little, letting me go and putting his hands back down on the table. His eyes searched my face. “Was it the pain?”
“And nerves. I was anxious about what to expect, and it was different than what I pictured in my head. And then you were there, and I was not expecting you.”
“I wasn’t expecting you either,” he admitted. But surely that was a lie. He must have seen my name. I didn’t call him on it. “What can I do to make it better for next time?”
Managing something like a smile, I eased back and shook my head. “No, it’s okay. Next time will be better. I’ll know what we’re doing.”
He frowned, then stepped away from me so I could hop down to the floor and grab my crutches. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“I’m going to give you a tour and explain what you’ll be doing on Monday.”
That…oh. That was nice. That was helpful. And very unexpected, but in the best way. He held the door for me, and I walked with my crutches into the corridor, turning left when he pointed. He walked a few paces ahead of me, leaning heavily on his cane, but he didn’t force me to have to catch up with him either.
There was another room at the far end of the hallway with two double doors. He swiped his badge, and they opened to a dark room that was much larger than the one I’d just been in. I watched his hand fumble against the wall, and then the light flickered on.
It was and wasn’t like they had on TV. Massage tables lined the far wall, and there were little bridge-looking things with short stairs, and on the opposite side of that, a row of exercise machines. The floors weren’t padded, but I could see huge mats lined up along the windows, and there were parallel bars and floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
“We do a little bit of everything here,” he said. “This is the main clinic, where you’ll be getting the rest of your treatment. We’ll work on stretching,” he added. “Balance. That’ll be a big focus for getting you back into skates. With your progress right now, I fully expect your ankle to regain full range of motion.”
“Are you being honest or just trying to make me feel better?” I couldn’t help but ask.
