CHAPTER TWENTY
It hadn’t even been a full week since the operation, and already, Nick could tell this time around would be different—better. He’d been up and walking the day after the surgery, and now, six days later, he’d made it all the way to town from his parents’ house—that was almost a mile. He might have to call Tess for a ride home, but still, progress was progress.
The best part was that he was down to only half a pain pill a day—usually first thing in the morning when he was stiffest. Desperate to be Vicodin and cane-free as soon as possible, he’d decided to double down on the healing this time. He’d even agreed to meet with Faith the next day to try some of her woo-woo stuff.
He saw Faith every day, but because they were staying on the down-low, they hadn’t had an opportunity to attempt their date again. And other than a few conversations at the bookshop and a couple of shared lunches with Tess at the diner, they hadn’t spent any time alone together either.
It was the third week of September, and the weather had finally turned, hinting fall was around the corner. He’d gotten so cold sitting in the park that he’d returned to the coffee shop for a second cup of joe. Hope was behind the counter and lit up when he entered.
“Hey, Gimpy,” she greeted. Judging by her smile, her burden seemed to have lightened.
“Hi, Hope. How have you been?”
“Good. Started volleyball practices, so I only work weekends now. Americano?”
“Yes, please.” He pulled out his wallet and paid.
“Actually,” she said. “I’m glad you came in. I have a favor to ask.”
“Okay.”
“I’m on student council, and we’re all in charge of getting a chaperone for the homecoming dance next Friday. Would you be willing?”
“Me? Why not your sister? Or your dad?” Or anyone but him.
“Faith’s busy, and my dad’s not ready for that yet.” She did a pouty little thing with her lips that he assumed was her go-to method for getting what she wanted. “Plus, you’re cool and won’t be some fuddy-duddy that wants the music turned down.”
“All right. I guess so. I should even be able to drive by then.”
“Awesome. Thanks. Oh, and don’t say anything to Faith, okay? I don’t want to hurt her feelings that I didn’t ask her.”
“I thought you said she was busy.”
“She is. But, like, I don’t want her to feel totally replaceable, ya know?”
His internal lie detector pinged, but he couldn’t see what she’d be lying about. He side-eyed her, about to start an interrogation, when the barista at the end of the counter called out.
“GVF High Dance Chaperone?”
Hope winked. “I knew you’d say yes. Wear something nice,” she said before turning to the person in line behind him.
The next day, he entered Faith’s office, ready to give her “alternative” healing methods a chance. They sat on the floor, facing each other, as she recapped a previous lecture about the mind-body connection and its importance to healing.
“I’ve changed my mind already,” Nick said, adjusting his leg, struggling to find a comfortable position. Seven days out from surgery and the muscle was still pretty tender.
“Just close your eyes and breathe,” she said calmly, not opening her eyes.
“This is killing my leg.”
She cracked an eye open, then stood. “Let’s get you into a chair. You won’t be able to focus if you’re in pain.” He allowed her to help him up and into the soft chair in the corner. She sat back on the floor in front of him.
“Better?” she asked. And at his nod, continued. “All right. Relax and breathe. In and out.”
He felt stupid, but he’d sworn to do whatever he could to get better fast. He took a couple of hasty breaths, but apparently, she was watching or listening closely.
“Deep, long inhales through your nose,” she said. “Slow, long exhales out your mouth. Like this.” She demonstrated a breath cycle, and he closed his eyes and tried again. After a few good breaths, his shoulders did relax a little.
She spoke softly. “I want you to picture yourself at the summit of a mountain. No cane. No pain. You just climbed to the top. Think about how you got there. Think about the climb. Is it cold or hot? Are you sweating? Is it windy?” Pause. “How do you feel? Breathless? Exhilarated? Is the view pretty?”
He chanced a peek. She sat with eyes closed, legs crossed, back straight, and head held high. She was beautiful. Yes, the view was pretty, but he was sure that’s not what she meant. He shut his eyes and refocused.
Visualization was something he knew about. Or had heard of anyway. Big-time athletes used it to improve performance. And while he’d never tried it, he had hiked all over Green Valley Falls and had a particular place in mind when he thought about a mountain view.
“Okay. Um, it’s fall, and the leaves have turned. Yes, it’s pretty.”
“Good. What are you wearing?” she asked.
“Wait. This isn’t turning into some kinky sexual thing, is it?”
She huffed, opened her eyes, and promptly rolled them at him. “You’re not taking this very seriously. Are you wasting my time?”
“No. All right. All right. I’m trying. This just seems weird.”
“To visualize properly, you have to be extremely detailed. Know what you’re wearing, what you smell, see, and feel. You gotta put yourself there.”
“Fine. Um, hiking boots, jeans, and my favorite flannel.”
“Do you have the cane?”
“No.”
“Good. How does your leg feel?”
“It hurts like hell.”
“No, in your vision. Focus on how you want it to feel.”
He sighed. “There must be a learning curve on this stuff,” he mumbled. It took him a second to relax again, but for an instant, the pain melted away. Maybe the stress and tension were affecting it.
“Your mind affects everything. Your body holds the key to healing. Together, they have profound power.”
“You know, I can think of another way to relieve stress.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she laughed and stood.
“All right. We’re done for today. You were a terrible student, but I recommend you try it again at home. By yourself. Where no one can see you, and you won’t feel so inhibited.”
“Thanks for trying.” He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “You were a fantastic teacher, and I will try it later.” He kissed her until they heard someone coming down the short hallway.
She stepped back just as Ruby entered.
Faith smoothly pretended they were finishing up a conversation. “In conclusion, this stuff’s for your mind. Yoga will help your body. Seriously, you should try a class.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said, passing Ruby on his way out. “Later, ladies.”
His opportunity came the following day. Nick sat, reading on a park bench and minding his own business when he heard them coming. A gaggle of women, toting yoga mats and half-gallon water bottles. As they approached, he saw the age range was wide. Faith led the group and made eye contact as she rounded the path.
“Nick.” Her eyes brightened. “How perfect you’re here. Wanna join us for a yoga class?”
No was on the tip of his tongue, but he remembered his commitment to do anything needed to get better. And the doctor had said it could help his recovery. “I’m not dressed right. And I don’t have a mat.”
She took in his cargo shorts and T-shirt. “You can use my mat. And your clothes are fine.”
“Join us, Nick. You’ll love it,” Mrs. Norris said.
“You just want to check out his ass,” Mrs. Shaw chimed in.
“Hush, you two,” Mrs. Baker said. “Maybe a man in the class will entice us to talk less and work harder.”
Faith looked at him, mirth in her eyes, and pressed her lips together. “We’ll go easy on you. I promise.”
From the looks of things, it was an over-sixty class. How hard could that be to keep up with? He closed his book. “Okay.”
“Really?” Faith’s eyebrows jumped toward her hairline.
“Let’s not make a big deal of it.” He grabbed his cane and fell in line. They walked a short distance to a clearing near the park’s gazebo. The women laid out their mats and stood next to them. Faith put him in the middle of the front row, which meant he was surrounded by a half-dozen geriatric yogis. Of course her mat was pink.
“All right, ladies. Oh, and gentleman,” she called. “Arms up and breathe in.”
“Nick, feel free to take your shirt off,” Mrs. Shaw said. “It’s awfully warm, and we wouldn’t mind.” Hums of agreement came from all sides.
“I’m good,” he grumbled.
Faith started into a warm-up spiel and led them through some simple breathing exercises and basic stretches. He’d never actually done yoga, but he’d seen movies and commercials and understood the gist.
Once they sat, and Faith had them pretzeled up into something called a “Half Cow Face,” he could feel the burn. His injured leg screamed at certain movements, so every once in a while, he had to back off. He abandoned a few of the poses altogether and just watched Faith. She flowed seamlessly into each new pose and made it look effortless. And there was no denying she was easy on the eyes.
Her feet were bare, and her toes covered with pink nail polish. He narrowed in on a small tattoo near her ankle—a basketball beside the number ten. Tess had the same ball but with the number one. The whole team had gotten matching tattoos to celebrate the fifth anniversary of their state championship win.
“Enjoying the view, Nicholas?” Mrs. Baker snickered behind him.
His cheeks warmed at being caught ogling by his fourth-grade math teacher.
“Busted,” Mrs. Shaw sang with a sly grin.
Faith was oblivious—or pretended to be on his behalf—and shushed them.
A minute later, someone broke wind in a not-so-quiet, not-so-lady-like way, which caused some snickering.
“Sorry,” a woman in the back called out. “Knew I shouldn’t have eaten Pedro’s before class. Thought that would be a silent one.”
The group descended into fits of giggles. Even Nick cracked a smile. He sobered quickly when Faith turned and shot them a chastising glare.
“Real mature, ladies,” she said. “Can we focus?”
Everyone regained control, and Faith started the cooldown. The less intense poses felt pretty good. Gave his leg the perfect amount of burn. Hopefully, that meant healing.
At Faith’s final “Namaste,” the women grabbed their water jugs and guzzled as though they’d just finished a marathon. Adequately hydrated, they rolled up their mats, thanked Faith, and started back toward the parking lot, leaving him alone with Faith.
“How’d you do?” she asked.
“Okay, I guess,” he said. “It’s definitely harder than it looks. People make it seem easier than it is.”
“People?”
“You know. In the movies and stuff. You too. You made it look good.”
She laughed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you checking out my butt.”
“Guilty,” he said with a grin. “Wanna get some dinner?”
“Anything but Pedro’s.”
They walked to her car, stopped at the deli for sandwiches, and drove out to an old, abandoned barn. The early fall sun streamed through the trees on the far side of the meadow, and butterflies danced among the wildflowers that grew in patches around the long-forgotten field. Faith spread out a blanket and passed him a sandwich.
“GVF is pretty,” Nick said. “I’ll give it that.”
“Ever think of moving home?” She said it nonchalantly, but there was a hint of hope in her words, and he felt the need to prepare her for what was imminent.
“No,” he said. “In fact, I’ll probably head back to Boston next week.”
Something akin to sadness slid across her face but passed quickly. “Yeah, your leg does seem a lot better. Think you’ll return to work soon then?”
“Might have to start at a desk, but hopefully, I’ll be back in the field before long.”
Talking about work sent a ripple of guilt down his spine. He still hadn’t told her what he’d found out about her biological father. Nor had he mentioned he was actively trying to find and arrest the guy. She hadn’t brought it up again after initially asking him about it, but his lie of omission weighed on him. Thankfully, she changed the subject.
“How’s staying with your folks?” Since she’d moved back in with Tess, he’d been stuck with parental roommates.
“Not too bad, actually,” he said. “Mom’s eased up on the babying, and Dad says he’ll let me borrow the car once I can drive. It’s like I’m sixteen all over again. Maybe I could get an allowance out of them.”
“Will you still be in town for the Fall Festival on Saturday?”
“Yeah. I already told Tess I’d go.” He almost brought up the homecoming thing but decided to honor Hope’s ask that he didn’t. That made two secrets he was keeping from her now.
“Let’s not talk about you leaving,” she said. “There are better ways to spend your last few days.”
“You’re right.” He picked a long-stemmed daisy and handed it to her. “A wildflower for a wild child.”
She smiled and stuck the stem behind her ear. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they watched the sunset. Then made out until the mosquitoes drove them back to the car.
“This is ridiculous,” he said as Faith parked at the curb of his parents’ house. “I’m a grown man. Getting dropped off after a date is terribly emasculating.”
“I won’t hold it against you.” She winked.
“You’re being a good sport about it.”
“About what?”
“The fact that my family is making it impossible for us to ever be alone.” He huffed. “Between my parents here and Tess at your place, there’s nowhere without a Walker chaperone.”
“That is kind of a bummer,” she said. “But maybe they’re saving us from ourselves.” The melancholy tone was back. And he supposed she had a point. They were about to say goodbye, so putting some distance between them couldn’t hurt.
“You’re probably right,” he reluctantly agreed. “See you tomorrow?”
“You know where to find me.”
With a final kiss, he got out and watched as she drove away. Something resembling dread settled in the pit of his stomach. And he realized leaving her might be harder than he anticipated.