Page 24 of Forever Flustered

You know what, ignore me and delete both emails.

I’m stressed.

Bye.

Eli

Clicking send, he paused and then re-read both of them before putting his head down in his hands. His fingers were firmly planted in his hair, yanking hair from his hairline that would be receding soon enough if he lost the genetic lottery. He was nearly thirty-five, single, alone, but with two big dependents that hated his guts… and a boss who wasn’t his biggest advocate. Cursing under his breath, he heard his computer ping, notifying him of an email, and he immediately broke out in a cold sweat. Looking up slowly, he let his fingers slide down his face from his hairline, peering carefully between the digits, as he braced himself… and snorted.

SALE! Refillable deodorant, only $4.99 – Click Here for details on how to smell your best during your worst days.

Eli re-read the subject line that popped up and couldn’t help the panicked bubble of laughter that welled up inside of him. He was pathetic, completely overwhelmed, barely hanging on by a thread, and the Universe had jokes regarding the state of his deodorant. If that wasn’t a sign from Above, then what was it?

Hitting reply once more, he knew how pathetic and desperate it would come off to Maureen to receive three emails within the span of five minutes – perhaps it was only four minutes – but that didn’t stop him.

Hey – me again.

Look, I’m not good at this, things, well - any of THIS. You picked a person who has a messed-up past with the trauma scars to prove it. I’ve never dated. I’ve never had a relationship, or a real friend outside of work – and even then, calling it a ‘friend’ is a stretch.

You don’t have to reply.

I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re really nice… but I’m not sure that I can even fill the role of a part-time friend. I think you caught me at a low point, and I’m finally having a breakdown. I just laughed at a spam email about deodorant. I feel stuck, alone, trapped, and completely overwhelmed. I hope you find someone – and I think your eyes are amazing too.

Eli – the loser

Clicking send, he slumped back in his chair and hung his head on the back of the seat, trying to hold some fragment of his world together before it all fell apart.

CHAPTER 8

MAUREEN

Maureen waited patiently as her client got dressed behind closed doors, giving her a chance to check her email. She was hoping someone else scheduled, someone didn’t cancel, or perhaps that Eli would write her back. The man seemed so priggish sometimes, but she was pretty sure that was all an act – in fact, she was willing to bet money that she didn’t have. Rubbing the leftover oil on her palms quickly onto her elbows before pulling off a paper towel from the roll, she made fast work, and grimaced at her mouse – and the oily marks on the plastic.

Hazards of the job, I suppose, she mused and clicked on ‘Send/Receive’ – only to see a bunch of spam, another booked appointment, and three emails from Eli, which completely caught her by surprise. Her eyes were scrolling across the screen quickly, knowing that her time was limited. The moment the door opened, it was back to business.

And it did.

The door opened slowly as a woman with dark hair walked out. She was pulling her tresses into a ponytail and looked so relieved – and exhausted at the same time, before giving Maureen a tired smile.

“I could hug my husband for this,” the woman began, plopping down in a chair and immediately withdrawing her cell phone. “Are you available next Friday at four?”

“Yes,” Maureen replied quickly. Right now her calendar was pretty much open, and this woman meant business – and that was music to her ears. “How long?”

“Can I schedule for two hours?”

Maureen blinked and hesitated. “I usually don’t schedule anyone for longer than an hour-and-a-half…”

“That’s fine,” she replied and smirked. “I know he bought an online gift card, but I need you to put me on your mailing list, because this was an absolute treat. I swear, the ER was giving me a knot in my lower back. I feel like a boiled spaghetti noodle right now.”

“I could tell,” Maureen chuckled, smiling. “You need to stretch your piriformis muscle more, and that will help with some of the tightness…”

“Don’t ‘doctor’ me,” the woman chided gently, softening her words. “I know, but sometimes as a mom and a doctor – you just don’t have time, which is why Joshua bought me the massage. I nearly threw my back out picking up my daughter after pulling a long shift, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He said I was limping and biting everyone’s head off – and I was.”

“Well, I’m glad you are feeling better.”

“Much.”

The two women smiled at each other politely before Dr. Parr rose from her seat – and paused. “It’s none of my business, but I would be happy to hand out your business cards to a few physical therapists and chiropractors that I know.”