Full Contact (12 page)

And to top it off, he was feeling emotions he'd never felt before. A peculiar attachment to Ellen that defied definition or explanation. Was it a response to her uniquely needy and at the same time nurturing nature? The fact she'd suffered from a crime similar to his mother's? Some chemical sexual thing?

Whatever it was, Jay was drawn to her. And that didn't sit well with him.

E
LLEN WAS LOOKING FORWARD
to Saturday morning's session with Jay. Afterward she had a hundredth birthday party at work, and then was scheduled to meet with a family about enrolling their mother at Big Spirits. Whether someone was better off living in residential care or not, there was no way that she knew of to make the transition easy for the families. Or the residents. A not so fun part of her job.

She had talked to Josh that morning. He was off to Las Vegas to play at Circus Circus. Ellen had never been to Vegas and wasn't particularly thrilled to have her five-year-old son exposed to the city of sin.

She wanted her son home in Shelter Valley with her. Where they both belonged.

But as only one of Josh's parents, she couldn't prevent him from going. Not when he was on his father's time.

All in all, half an hour in her peaceful garden sounded fabulous.

Jay was in the waiting room, motioning her in before she'd scarcely cleared the door.

“How are you?” she asked quietly. She'd thought of him all night long. Wishing he'd had a friend to share the darkness with him.

Maybe wishing she could have been that friend.

“Fine.”

“Did you find anything in the tennis team archives?”

“No.”

Taking her cue, Ellen remained silent the rest of the way to his room. He left her, as usual, telling her to take her time getting ready.

She went through her now-familiar routine and was waiting for him after a few moments.

It took him a full five minutes to return.

“I'm going to do a bit of light massage today,” he said softly. “The same thing we've been doing with a little bit of kneading.” His low voice, speaking slowly, blended nicely with the music.

He pulled the sheet up to her neck. “If you have a problem, please let me know immediately. We'll try to talk our way through it.”

She settled in and let the music take her to her special place.

Jay's touch was soothing, gentle, his fingers working her muscles with a light, rhythmic pressure. The music was there. She could hear it. And the dimly lit floor looked the same in a comforting way.

Pressure against her shoulder at the base of her neck.

The walls moved a little closer. Ellen tensed.

“You okay?”

Jay's voice.

“Yes.”

More pressure. Jay's hands. She could see his thumb, tapping rhythmically against the car door yesterday. He'd been a grown man…and a little boy, too.

A human being trying to understand how a parent could desert him. Parents were partial to their kids. Parents loved their kids more than anyone on earth.
Parents were security in a changing world. Safety in the midst of danger. Reassurance during sickness and encouragement in health. It was the natural way of things.

Pressure. Pressure. Pressure.

Jay had missed all of that. No safety. No security.

She could see him in her car. She cared.

His hands moved lower, edging along her spine next to her shoulder blades.

He was her therapist. Not a man she cared about.

Pressure. Kneading. Like she was a loaf of bread.

She wasn't a loaf of anything.

Josh was going to Las Vegas.

Jay. His hands. His hurt. She cared.

More kneading.

She could handle it. This was Jay. She had her music. Her flowers. The private garden in her mind. Peace.

Kneading. Kneading. So much needing.

Life was hard.

Strains of music filtered in. Speaking to her. All she wanted was peace.

“Let's talk about it.”

She couldn't talk. She was sobbing.

She wanted to go home.

“Try, Ellen. Talk to me. Talk through it.”

He stroked her lightly. As he had on other days. Gently stroking. Back and forth. Bringing peace.

Invading her space.

She didn't want to be touched.

But she couldn't tell him. Telling him would mean failure. She was normal. She wanted a normal life.

Tears dropped to the floor.

She heard his steps as he moved away.

“Take as long as you need.”

She waited for the click of the closing door. Then curled into a ball on the table and sobbed.

 

J
AY STOOD OUTSIDE HIS
treatment room. Strategizing. Planning. Determined to make Ellen like other clients he'd helped through difficult times—determined to focus on the job at hand.

Tension built from the inside out. He couldn't fail her. Couldn't stand here and watch her walk away. If she came through that door and told him she was done, he couldn't not go after her.

Five minutes passed. She was always out within two. Seven minutes. No sound emerged from the room.

Eight minutes and Jay's hand was on the knob. He turned it slowly. Gave her time to notice. To stop him. To claim her privacy.

Ellen wasn't standing. Or even sitting in the chair where she'd left her purse. She was still on the table, huddled like a child.

In that moment he knew this woman would never be just another client to him. She was a client. She meant that much.

But so much more.

He'd known her only a matter of days yet it was as though he'd known her his entire life.

Her sobs tore at him and he approached the table, even though his training told him to keep his distance.
“I'm here, Ellen,” he said, keeping his voice soft, rhythmic. He didn't touch her. “Talk to me.”

She hiccupped. Jay waited. There was nothing else to do. He wasn't going to leave her there alone.

“I'm a freak.”

“You are not a freak.”

“I—I am.”

Talk her through it, man. Work. Do your job.
“What makes you a freak?”

“I— People love…massages. I can't…even make it…through one.” Her voice was muffled against her hands.

“You know why. You were hurt. We're healing that.”

“What if it doesn't work? What if I never get better?”

What-ifs were no-win situations. Once allowed, they would insinuate themselves into every corner of the mind and eat it alive.

“Tell me about today. What happened?”

“I don't know.”

“When did it go bad?”

“I don't know.”

“We need to talk through it. To take the sting. To take away the mystery. To take away its power over you.”

She moved, unbending the slightest amount. She was still curled, but her head was not pushed so tightly against her chest.

“I couldn't relax. From the beginning,” she said, her voice calmer. She had stopped crying.

“Okay, do you have any idea why?”

“No. I found out this morning that Josh is going to Las Vegas with his father.”

“And that upset you?”

“Well…yeah. I mean, it's Sin City and he's only five.”

“Okay.” He didn't push her. Let the music and the dim lighting do their work.

“I—I can't handle a simple massage and Josh is going to be in Las Vegas.”

She was afraid and feeling powerless. He understood that. But he couldn't quite put the Las Vegas part together with the reaction.

“Let's talk about the massage,” he said. “Can you tell me when the touching went bad for you?”

“I don't know.”

“How did you feel?”

“Like the walls were closing in. Like I had to and I didn't want to and I couldn't do anything about it.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did it feel good?”

“I don't know. I— My mind wandered and I got confused and…I don't know. It all went bad.”

“Do you want to take a break?” He wasn't going to give up on her. But pushing too hard could do more damage than good. “Try again in another week or so?”

“No.” Ellen sat up, her voice firm. “I'm not going to live like this my entire life. I hate having you see me this way. I'm an ugly freak and I don't want to be. Not anymore. So I'm not going to run away.”

His hand moved before his mind did. With the tips of his fingers he pushed the hair from Ellen's face, wiping her eyes then her cheeks with his thumbs. “You are not ugly, Ellen Moore.” Those teary brown eyes gazed at him with such longing. “For the first time in my career, I find myself struggling to ignore how beautiful the woman on my table is.”

What in the hell was he doing?

Ellen stared at him and something entered her eyes, her expression. Something he'd needed to see.

But she closed her eyes, and turned her face into the palm of his hand.

She didn't push herself into him. Didn't so much as move her lips. She simply rested against his palm. A moment. Two.

She slid off the table, and quietly collected her purse.

Next time she was there he'd have her take off her shoes. Only her shoes. A slight disrobing. He'd do her feet. And nothing else. The plan presented itself to him as she moved toward the door.

“Thank you.” She glanced at him over her shoulder for the briefest second then she was gone.

But he knew she'd be back.

He knew something else, too. He had to have a talk with her before he worked on her again.

He'd crossed a professional line that he shouldn't have. He had to tell her.

Then Ellen had a choice to make: to trust him to be able to help her heal.

Or not.

 

E
LLEN THOUGHT ABOUT
J
AY
for the rest of the day. Alma, the woman celebrating her hundredth birthday, cracked a joke that had the whole room laughing and Ellen wished Jay had been there to hear her. He knew Alma.

She chose a brownie over a vanilla cupcake and wondered if he would have made the same choice.

And when she counseled the Mercer family—a son, a daughter and a son-in-law—about admitting their mother, Joan, to Big Spirits because the woman kept wandering away from home and they were afraid for
her life, she thought of Jay. Of the fact that he would never have to go through moments like these. Never have to face a family crisis.

She thought about how unfair life had been to him. How lucky the Mercers were to have the security of a family unit to lean on while facing life's challenges. And how lucky she was to have her family—both the blood family, and the adopted family she had in the people of Shelter Valley.

Jay had never had a home.

Ellen had never known a single moment without one. Even in her worst moment, she'd had a home to think about—and to eventually run to.

Jay deserved to know what a home meant. How it felt. What it stood for.

She had to help him find his father. Then, hopefully, he'd let her help him integrate Cole into his life, as well.

Beyond that she couldn't think. She had no idea where he'd be once he'd completed what he'd set out to do. One thing was very clear. He wouldn't be staying.

And she would never leave.

That impasse occupied her thoughts as she left her office following the session with the Mercers. She would meet with them early next week after they had considered their options over the weekend.

“Hey!”

Ellen stopped when she heard the voice.

Clara Larson was in her room, sitting in a chair adjacent the window. The ninety-two year old had family in Tucson. The same place where Jay's father had deserted him. Clara's family had all but deserted her, visiting only once a year. Did they have some nonfamily chemical contaminating their drinking water?

“You need something, Clara?” Ellen stepped into the room.

“I need to talk to you is what.”

“Okay.” Ellen pulled up a chair and took the older woman's frail hand, careful not to squeeze too hard and bruise her. There were more veins than skin visible these days. “What's up?”

“The new girl—the one they hired last month—I don't want her in here anymore.”

“Tell me what's going on.”

“My body is old and useless, my brain is not.”

Smiling, Ellen said, “I can certainly attest to that.” Clara had beat Ellen in a game of Scrabble a couple of days ago. They kept the game set up in a corner of Clara's room and Ellen played at least one word a day.

“The girl treats me like I'm a moron.”

“And that's completely unacceptable,” Ellen said. “I'm glad you said something.”

“That's what you're here for, ain't it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“So…you'll see that she doesn't come back in here?”

Ellen couldn't promise to choose aides' schedules based on the likes and dislikes of residents, but…

“Let me ask you this,” she said. “If she apologizes, can you give her one more try?”

She knew the staff member—Lacey Barnes. A single mother with a two-month-old infant, Lacey was living with her parents and struggling to make ends meet. The job at Big Spirits worked for her because she could still breast-feed her baby who was next door at Little Spirits.

Clara didn't answer.

“I give you my word. If her behavior doesn't change
immediately, I won't ask you to be patient a second time.”

She harrumphed. Then, with a petulant look, she nodded. “All right. But I want that apology.”

“You'll get it,” Ellen promised.

She sought out Lacey's supervisor to make good on her word as soon as she left Clara's room.

Back in her small office, Ellen packed up her bag then headed out the side door of the facility. At the same time, Jay walked in. She stopped.

He did, too.

“You got a minute?”

He was still wearing the jeans and T-shirt he'd had on that morning. “Yeah.”

“I need to see Hugh. But if you'll wait, I'll be right out.”

Ellen nodded. What did he need to see her about? She wasn't up for discussing her breakdown this morning. But maybe Jay had word on his father or needed her help.

She could have left. He'd allowed her time to leave.