Page 17 of Tethered Hearts

Brie

“This feels so weird,” Brie said, talking over the car’s hands-free speaker. She tilted the AC vent toward her face and neck, hoping to calm her nerves and dry the sheen of sweat on her skin before she walked up to the house. She felt like a stalker sitting in her car parked out the front of Helen’s low-set abode. She only hoped the neighbours didn’t get the wrong impression and call the police.

“You’ll be fine,” Melanie replied. “You’re keeping the guy company, that’s all. It’s not like you’re going on a blind date.”

As much as that was true, it didn’t stop her stomach churning with apprehension. “How will I be fine? I can’t help but think Helen has higher expectations for this than what’s possible.” What did Helen expect anyway? She wasn’t a qualified counsellor to coax Matt out of his slump.

“You’re going to a dog park,” Melanie said as a blast of cheerful music sounded from the television in the background, and Hayden’s voice asked for a snack.

“I know. But it’s hard to forget how silly I was about him for all those years, not once thinking I’d ever meet him in person, let alone treat his injuries.” She’d followed Matt on social media, admiring his posts from exotic locations such as the Greek Islands, or Venice during breaks in his training, and being secretly jealous of how the other half lived. And now here she was, sitting in front of the other half’s aunt’s house, wondering why she’d opened her mouth to offer to do this.

She glanced down at her clothing – a grey t-shirt, denim shorts, and worn sneakers. Her favourite white cap with ‘Yale’ stitched across the front in blue sat on the passenger seat. Her attire was simple and comfortable. Nothing fancy at all. Yet it still took her a good half hour to decide what to wear, which was ridiculous, given that the whole idea was to get Matt out of the house, not to win his attention. So, why did she have to overthink things? It shouldn’t have mattered, given that they were only going to a dog park. But this was Matt Dallimore! Meeting him in his own space was completely different from treating him in the clinic.

“What do we even talk about?” Brie asked, scanning the wide street to make sure no one was peeking out through their windows and taking down her registration number. The longer she sat there, the more suspicious she would look.

“I can’t believe you have to ask that,” Melanie chuckled. “If anyone knows how to talk or what to talk about, it’s you.”

Her friend was right, of course. Brie had a reputation for being able to talk to anyone about anything. She was a born conversationalist. Had even been told she would be able to talk underwater, or cement, given the chance. But there was no professional façade for her to hide behind now. No talking under the guise of being his clinician. No rambling on as she worked his muscles. Conversing in the clinic had been easy in her role. It was her job to keep clients’ minds off their injuries and their pain. Now she had no buffer.

She sighed. Who would’ve thought even a year ago, when she’d seen Matt run at the Commonwealth Games, that she’d be getting ready to spend an afternoon with him while their dogs played together? She’d been hoarse from cheering him on at the track. And now here she was, outside his aunt’s house, with an entire colony of butterflies flapping madly in her stomach. “Wish me luck,” she said. “No, not luck. Pray for me, please.” She’d need some serious divine intervention if she was to get through the afternoon with her dignity intact.

A wet nose nuzzled her neck, and she reached up a hand to pat Rocky. Switching off the ignition, she opened the door, reminding herself this was her idea, and she was here to help Helen. That was all.

Deep breaths, Brie. He’s just another client.

With a deep sigh, she stepped out and opened the back door to an excitable Rocky who almost bowled her over in his eagerness to get out of the car. “At least someone’s excited,” she mumbled, attaching his lead before he dragged her up the path toward the house.

After commanding Rocky to sit, Brie rang the doorbell and took a moment to admire her surroundings. White cladding and grey trim around the windows gave Helen’s house a modern appearance. A spacious lawn with pops of colourful blooms in the garden beds added to its street appeal. Two potted white rosebushes stood sentinel on either side of the front door. Just as Brie bent over to inhale the heady fragrance, the door swung open, and Helen stepped outside.

“Thanks so much for coming, Brie. Did you have any trouble finding us?”

“None at all. And it’s really no trouble being here.” Although her stomach would beg to differ. Those butterflies were relentless.

“And who’s this gorgeous boy?” Helen ran a hand between Rocky’s ears, who nuzzled into her appreciatively.

“This is Rocky.” She tugged on the lead, a warning not to frighten Helen with his overt friendliness. She was used to his goofy personality, but it could be a little overwhelming for those who weren’t.

“He’s so big compared to Winston.” Helen laughed. “But I figured a smaller dog is more suited for what Matt needs now.”

As though sensing they were talking about him, tapping sounded on the hardwood floors before a white blur darted onto the porch. Rocky lurched forward, tugging on Brie’s arm.

“Winston,” Helen scolded, bending down to scoop up the fluffy pooch. “Be nice to your new friends.”

“Hello, Winston. Aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Brie patted the other dog who eagerly sniffed her hand and looked ready to launch out of Helen’s arms. He was adorable.

“Matt!” Helen turned toward the open door. “Brie’s here.”

Her cheeks warmed and she lowered her gaze, avoiding the glimmer of hope sparking in Helen’s eyes. The woman’s announcement made her feel like an awkward teen waiting for her first date, and she fully expected Helen to lay down some ground rules for behaviour and stipulate a curfew.

Dull thudding drew near. Black sneakers appeared in the doorway followed by a pair of crutches.Matt’s on crutches?Pride bloomed in Brie’s chest at the upgrade in mobility aids. There was no greater triumph for a physiotherapist than to see their client make progress. It hadn’t been that long ago when he was struggling with the walking frame. Since then, he must have been doing something right for Tom to upgrade him to crutches. She contained her desire to launch into an enthusiastic cheer or give him a congratulatory embrace. Instead, she gripped Rocky’s lead and smiled. “Looking good. You’re on crutches. That’s great!” Her gaze travelled up over his jean-clad legs, his biceps straining as he gripped the crutches, and the grey t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. Damp hair curled from beneath his faded baseball cap, and at least a three-day growth covered his jaw. He made casual look good. Far too good. She forced down the lump of nerves in her throat and offered a smile.

“Hi.” His gaze briefly met hers before shifting back to the ground.

“I’ve just met Winston. He’s very cute.” At the mention of his name, Winston squirmed in Helen’s arms, clambering to get down.

“Yeah.”

Great. We’re back to Mr. Not-Interested-In-Talking.Was this how the rest of the afternoon was going to play out? Hopefully, there would be other things to distract them at the park, and the lack of conversation wouldn’t matter.

---