It sounds like I’ve stuck my head inside a beehive. The incessant buzzing of the oscillating saw as the ortho doc cuts through Levi’s cast fills the room and vibrates in my skull. To be honest, it’s making me nauseated. I keep my head turned away, focusing on the wall of medical posters depicting the inside of the human body as a distraction.
“How can you be squeamish,” Levi questions over the noise, “when you work with this stuff every day?”
He’s got to be kidding, right? Tossing him a look that I hope conveys the depth of my irritation, I attempt to control my voice. “I don’t work with this stuff, Levi. I handle the after care, when all of this stuff has already been handled.” Hence the reason I wasn’t here twelve weeks ago.
I tell him this with a childlike roll of my eyes and a condescending shake of my head as I turn my attention to my phone buzzing inside my purse. I pounce on it, eager to finally have something interesting to focus on because even though logic tells me the doctor’s done this a hundred times and knows what he’s doing, I’m convinced that saw is going to chop Levi’s leg right off, and I just can’t.
“And FYI,” I snipe at him as I read the incoming text. “Your ‘surprise’ sucks.”
Mom: Hey, sweetie! How’s the view from where you’re standing?
The text I get from my mom is teasing and an incredibly cheesy play on my name, and because this day is already heading south, it makes me long for home. My real home. Not the couch I’ve been crashing on in my friend’s studio apartment back in Cincinnati, or the bed so graciously afforded to me by Levi, but the one from when I was a kid—a saggy twin-size mattress stacked on top of a creaky box spring and set on an old metal hospital style frame. The blankets and sheets were mismatched and covered with tiny nubs. It wasn’t glamorous or even particularly pretty, but it was mine and it smelled of home.
Me: View is great. How’s the sun there?
Mom: Hot. But my tan looks fabulous!
Her text is followed by a picture of her dressed in a very classic fifties style navy and white polka dot one-piece lying out by the pool. I recognize the landscape behind her and know she’s at home.
Me: Looking great, Mom. How is David enjoying the weather?
Mom: He’s in Japan until Friday. I have the house to myself.
Me: House party!
Mom: LOL I think I left my wild streak back in the sixties.
Me: Maybe you should hire a detective to track it down.
Unlike many of the rich housewives I’ve been introduced to, my mom is a homebody. The only thing she needs to be happy is her kids, her home, and her husband. She has two out of the three. David Black is a nice enough guy and a decent enough stepfather, but he falls short as a husband.
Before the ink was even dry on the marriage license, he was off on the first of many long business trips. He’s hardly ever home, which leaves Mom alone more often than not, and she doesn’t have many friends to keep her occupied, though not by any choice of her own.
As soon as the women in the community uncovered her humble beginnings, she became the black sheep, unwelcome pretty much everywhere aside from those rare times when she was permitted to accompany David to one of his charity galas or some other snobbish affair.
I know my mother isn’t happy, but try telling her that. I learned long ago that there is no changing her mind. She married David Black and she is determined to make her marriage work. What’s she’s doing is honorable, I guess, but it’s certainly not what I would do. When I get married, it’s going to be to a man who lives for me, because if he can live without me, then he’s not worth the time or hassle.
Mom: How is the living situation? Is Levi being nice?
I grunt to myself, and then type my response. Nice digs. Roommate didn’t work out. Stuffed his body in the incinerator.
Mom: You’re a riot.
Me: Maybe I’m not kidding.
Mom: Hang in there. Only a few weeks left. Be nice.
I can’t believe she’s telling me to be the nice one. Clearly, Levi has her as snowed as the rest of the country.
Me: Oh, I will. *shakes fist*
Mom: Be nice! LOL
I can picture her smiling in my mind and chuckle to myself.
“Who the hell are you talking to?” Levi’s voice comes as a shock, and I jerk my head up to find him watching me with an amused smile. “Your fingers were flying,” he says, pointing to the phone in my hand. “Boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I grumble, then send off another quick text to my mom.
Me: At the doctor’s. Gotta go.
Mom: Is everything ok?
Me: Levi’s getting his cast off. I told the doc to take the leg, but he doesn’t take bribes. *sigh*
Mom: You crack me up. Ok, love you!
Me: K, love you too!
Tucking the phone back in my purse, I sit back in my chair, noticing the lack of noise right away. “You’re done?”
Extending his leg out in front of him, Levi says, “Cracked that baby off five minutes ago. The smell was horrific. Guess you didn’t notice because you were too wrapped up in talking to lover boy.”
“It was my mom.”
His eyes widen. “She’s a boy?”
“You are intolerable,” I reply, scowling.
His expression sobering, he asks, “How is she?”
“Alone.”
Dropping his gaze to the floor, he grows silent, and I welcome it. My mom’s impossible not to love, and we both know what a crap deal she got hitching herself to his father. It’s difficult not to feel sorry for her.
“So are you all set then?” I ask, needing to escape the oppressive feeling talking about our parents stirs up.
“Doc, are we all set?” Levi asks the man in the white lab coat who is busily writing notes in his file.
“You’re set,” the doctor confirms, “but,” he adds quickly when Levi moves to jump down from the table, “I want you to remember that while the bones have mended you still need to take it easy. That means limiting your activities. Nothing too vigorous or strenuous right now. You’re going to have to work up to where you were. Do you have a physical trainer lined up to help you with that?”
Levi tips his head toward me. “You’re looking at her.”
The minute I agreed to be his therapist, David had Levi’s records faxed over, and I got to work putting a schedule together. I meet the doctor’s cool blue stare and nod hello. “I’m up-to-date on his records and have a plan already in place to get him back into top form.”
“Well, then. We’re all done here.”
After exchanging handshakes, the doctor instructs Levi to schedule a follow-up appointment and we head out.
After grabbing a quick lunch in a drive-thru window and eating in the car in the parking lot, Levi drives us in the opposite direction.
“So where to next?” I ask him.
“It’s a surprise.” A smile stretches across his face, and it looks so good on him, it’s a struggle not to stare.
Staring out the window, I droll, “Another surprise? Well, color me excited. I can barely contain myself.”
“Well, try your hardest, princess.” Levi chuckles. “You’re going to love this one. I guarantee it.”
***
“I’m beginning to think you don’t know what the meaning of surprise is.”
The gym Levi brought us to is nice. Really nice. From the outside, I could see through the glass front that it has two levels. From the inside, I can see it’s been outfitted with all of the latest and most expensive pieces of equipment—treadmills, stair climbers, weight benches, ellipticals, even a lap pool, and the list goes on. It’s a personal trainer’s dream. As a therapist, my mind is already teeming with possibilities.
“How are you feeling right now?” Levi asks.
I look around the gym, torn, but because I never expected this, I settle on, “Shocked.”
Tossing his heavy arm around my shoulder, Levi jerks me playfully into his side. “I hate to tell you this,” he says low enough so that only the two of us can hear him, “but that’s the definition of a surprise.”
Planting my palms against his side, I shove him away, but he’s sturdy enough that he barely budges. “You’re such an ass.”
Pursing his lips, he blows me a kiss.
I glare at him.
He laughs.
S.o.b.
“So, where do we start?” Levi’s eyes dance with mischief as he scans the open floor and the collection of machines. “Weights? Leg press?”
Shaking my head, I step past him, taking the lead. “Think smaller.”
One of the corners of the gym has been set up for aerobics classes. Currently, none are being held, leaving the room open for our use. I see what I’m looking for and head for it.
“A Pilates mat? What do we need that for?” Levi asks as he pulls up beside me.
Turning, I see the apprehension in Levi’s eyes as I carry the bright pink mat into the center of the room and unroll it, spreading it out on the floor. “Right now, we need to focus on rebuilding strength and flexibility.”
He makes a face that tells me he thinks I’m short a few marbles. Lifting both arms up, he flexes his biceps. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, princess, but I have plenty of strength and no one has ever complained about my flexibility.”
“Neither has anything to do with your leg,” I inform him with a roll of my eyes. Despite it being a non-displaced fracture which—considering its location—is rare and incredibly lucky, it still needs to be dealt with properly to reduce the risk of further injury. Something I’m sure he knows, but I feel the need to remind him. “You did a lot of damage when you fractured that bone, so now it’s a matter of restoring full functionality. Unless you want to hurt yourself even more, we need to do this smart.”
“Are you suggesting I’m not smart?” Levi’s devilish smirk is firmly in place as he approaches the mat, scratching his bearded chin and eying it skeptically.
In response, I give him an arch look, letting the silence speak for itself. Honestly, I know Levi isn’t as shallow or aloof as he pretends to be. As much as I would have preferred her not to, my Mom has kept me just as informed about his life as the tabloids.
Playing for Duke—it hasn’t escaped me that he was a Blue Devil—I know he graduated with honors and was accepted into MLS. His skills on the field have not only inspired whispers of a possible shot at the Olympics, but it’s provided him with a lot of corporate sponsorship in which a good portion of the money he receives from endorsements go to charities.
I also know that the main reason his father called me in is because Levi is in the middle of working out a very lucrative contract with one of the top selling athletics companies in the world, and he needs to be able to walk the walk as well as he talks the talk. All of this Levi keeps under tight wraps, though I’m not sure why. Maybe he just enjoys the life of billionaire playboy a little too much.
As soon as he’s planted himself on the mat, I go into full-on therapist mode and kneel down in front of him, unlacing and removing his shoe. “Let’s start with extending your legs and flexing your foot so I can gauge your range of motion.”
He does what I say, and it doesn’t escape my notice when he twinges. His cocky demeanor evaporates instantly and he gets real serious, real fast.
“Good, now press your toes toward me,” I continue. “Now side to side.” We continue with the rotation and add in some simple stretches with an elastic band. After some time has passed and I’m satisfied with his progress, I stand up and head back to where I got the mat from and pick up the simple piece of equipment that reminds me of the planet Saturn.
“Come sit down over here,” I tell Levi, indicating the polished wooden bench lining the mirrored wall.
“What in the world is that?”
“This,” I say as I bend down and set it at his feet, “is your new best friend—a wobble board. Put your feet on either side of the ball. The idea here is to rock it back and forth in nice, slow, controlled movements.”
That doubtful look crosses his face again, but Levi follows my instructions without another word. I can tell it’s a little uncomfortable for him—someone with so much energy—having to slow his pace, but maybe this experience will teach him a little patience in the process.
“This was not what I intended when I brought you here,” Levi says as he stretches his muscles. With my arms folded across my chest, I continue observing him in silence. Looking up at me, he forges on. “I had this plan. After the doctor appointment, I figured we’d come work out together, I’d show you my prowess, and then you’d strip off all your clothes and beg me to fuck you.”
My lip curls in disgust. “And why would you think I would do that? No, scratch that. Why would you want me to do that?”
“To prove to you that you still want me, because ever since the moment you saw me again you’ve been fighting your attraction to me.”
I snort. “You must have hit your head a few too many times on the field.”
“Probably,” he concedes, “but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Am I?”
My mouth opens to tell him just how wrong he is, but the words freeze in my throat. As I stand here, staring into those tropical blue eyes, I can’t make myself tell the lie. Disturbed by this, I gather up the mat from the floor and toss it back into the pile with the others. “That’s enough for today. We’re done here.”
Scrambling to catch up, Levi follows me back out to the car, reaching past me to open the passenger door. I climb in, buckling my belt and staring out the windshield while he pauses there, holding the door open as he stares down at me. I refuse to look at him. I don’t want this, any of it. I just want to get through this month and get out of here.
But Levi is determined to make it a nightmare. Just before he closes the door, I hear him say, “You’re wrong, princess. We’re not even close to being done. We’re just getting started.”
FML.