Chapter 22
Taysom
“To make matters worse,” Charlotte says through the phone, her voice thin.
“I couldn’t get started right after my last client because I’d promised Tracy I’d help her with the mountains of data entry that needs to be done before the center closes.
So that took a while. And then Willa told me she could stay after to help, and she did for a bit, but then she had to go to her fiancé’s grandmother’s ninetieth birthday party. ”
I whistle. “Wow! Good for her for reaching ninety.”
“Yeah. I bet she’s not a redhead. Redheads tend to not live as long as other people.”
I snort. “That can’t be true.”
To my surprise, she hedges. “Well, maybe it’s not scientifically proven, exactly, but we Cheeto-heads know.”
“Which means if you tell yourself something repeatedly, it’s more likely to come true,” I insist.
“Way to invalidate, but whatever.” Her voice is teasing. I think I’ve finally figured out when there’s a hint of a tease in her words. She likes to challenge me, that much is certain.
“Am I invalidating or am I helping you out of your disillusionment?”
She just laughs and I can imagine her shaking her head.
“Hey, I just left a team meeting, which means I’m close by,” I say. “Can I stop by and help? Do you need food?”
“I brought in some leftovers and already scarfed those down in a fit of stress eating, so don’t worry about bringing me food.” She pauses. “But if you honestly don’t have anything better to do, I’d love the company.”
Right as I get there, she unlocks the door to let me in, and I can tell it’s serious. Charlotte’s face is pale. I mean, it’s always pale, but right now, she looks like she didn’t get enough sleep. I wish I could pull her into a hug, and maybe I could. We’re friends, right? And friends can hug.
But I don’t and pretty soon, she’s showing me the supplies and things she’s been gathering.
“Why do you need so much butcher paper?” I ask, pointing to several rolls of white paper propped up against the wall.
“It’s footprint paper. Basically, we roll several feet of it out on the floor, tape it down on the carpet, and then we sanitize the child’s feet and then have them step on what’s basically a twelve inch square ink pad.
And then we have them walk down the paper.
We can measure a lot of things just by doing that. ”
“That’s so cool.”
She shrugs. “It’s old school. A lot of centers have specialized treadmills hooked up to a computer that records and analyzes the gait data. We don’t have that.”
“Yeah, I think our training rooms have something like that.”
She rolls her eyes. “I bet. And I bet the steel behemoth that is the Sports Medicine Institute has that state-of-the art equipment, too.” She sighs. “It’s all good. This way works, too.”
She taps her mouth and glances at a paper list in her hand. “I have the incentive bucket over here with the stickers and little prizes and stuff.” She picks it up and shuffles through it. “And I’ve got two more big bags of the same thing to refill it with. You can never have enough prizes.”
“Looks like you’re ready.”
Charlotte swings one of her legs back and forth, her hands at her waist, her breaths shallow.
“Hip pain?” I ask.
“Just need to loosen up.” She shakes her head and sighs.
“And I hope we’re ready. Thankfully, my colleagues are staying after their caseloads to help.
Did I tell you that Skyler and Willa have gotten job offers?
Oh, and Ron will be there. He’s back at work now, but he can’t do much, poor guy.
I’ve sent them the protocol that we’ll be focusing on, so each of us will be doing something different.
We’ll be at separate stations, and each child will get about ten minutes to go through the whole thing.
By the end, they’ll be evaluated differently by all four of us OTs.
I couldn’t do this without them.” She pauses, her gaze zeroing in on me.
“I couldn’t do this without you, either.
You’ve been generous with your time and your social media accounts and just… everything.”
Something slides across my belly, a pulsing need to soak up this gratitude from her.
“It’s been a great few weeks, Charlotte.”
Her gaze goes to the floor and her cheeks pink up. “It has been fun, huh?” She looks away. “I wonder how Miley’s doing in her throne room?”
“We should get a baby cam so you can keep an eye on her.”
She laughs but nods her head. “Not a bad idea.”
“My sister, Emma, was surprised by how much stuff a tiny baby needs. And the same is true for Miley. She took over your house within a couple of days.”
“Yeah, Miley doesn’t know how good she has it.”
We’ve stopped talking about someone coming forward to claim her. It’s been enough time that Miley just feels solidly ours.
Which is weird. She’s not mine. She belongs to Charlotte. But tell that to my feelings.
“I just keep thinking about MJ,” Charlotte says, rubbing her forehead with both hands.
“The one who has to have surgery?” I ask.
“Yeah. If she’d come to a gait analysis night even a year ago, if there’d been one available to her, she’d probably be wearing a harness right now, not about to go under the knife.” She shudders. “If we can help even just one kid avoid MJ’s fate, this will all be worth it.”
“You’re going to do a lot of good tomorrow night, Charlotte.”
Charlotte is frowning, opening various cupboards in the back room where they keep many of their supplies.
“Looking for something specific?”
“An inclinometer. Mine broke and we used to have like five of them, but I can’t find a single one.”
“What the heck is that?”
“A device that measures the range of motion of a joint. It looks kind of like a little clock.”
After several more minutes of looking and a text to her coworkers, it’s clear: No one knows where the range of motion tester thing is.
“Want me to order one on ? Do next-day delivery?”
“You can’t just get the kind we need on .
Ours are pediatric-sized.” She massages her forehead.
“Ron and Tracy have packed some things up already. I can’t imagine them packing those, but maybe they did?
All I know is, I need one and I don’t have one.
I called Willa, but she says she hasn’t seen one in a while.
“Sorry, Charlotte,” she says. “The center is chaotic these days.”
When I’m off the phone, Taysom is frowning, his brow creased. “Do you think the Institute would have them?”
“I’m guessing so. Unless their state-of-the-art stuff is too highbrow for that. I’m sure everything they have is digital.”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to see if we can borrow one.”
She sighs. “I don’t know.”
“Is it hard to admit the Institute might help you somehow?”
She scowls, then pauses. “Maybe.” A smile curls her lips.
I pull up a contact for the Institute on my phone. I call and it goes to voicemail. I call a couple of other people. “No one’s answering. Let’s just go there and see.”
“We can’t just walk in there!”
“Why not? I have access to the front doors through my phone.”
“Of course you do.”
“They gave it to me last week and will probably take it away. I’m not a diva, okay? It’s because we’re doing a few training videos, so I’ve been going back and forth.”
“You and your videos,” she says, shuffling through a box on the floor.
“Me and my videos got you to the night before your big screening event, so hush.”
She just smiles. Beams, actually. And something happens to my chest. It’s kind of hard to breathe.
I head to the door. “Are you coming?”
“Uh…”
“You have to come. I won’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”
“Fine.” Her tone doesn’t match her expression. Because she’s smiling again.