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Chapter Nine
After stopping by the Delta Airline’s counter to get Greg’s boarding pass and check his luggage, Lillian stood beside her son heading toward the security check-in.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Greg.”
“Mom, you won’t know the difference. I’ll text often, and I’ll call you every week the same way I did from Seattle.”
Blessing God that he was a loving son, she nodded. “I can’t wait to hear how you adjust to your new work environment.”
“I’ll probably be very busy the first few weeks, as happens with any new job, and then I’ll enjoy the adventure. By the way, if you have a chance to go to St. John Island, don’t miss it. Like my project in England, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
Not wanting to argue for the few minutes they had left, she hastened to agree. “You’re right. I’ll give it serious thought.”
They’d reached the security point. Greg hugged her. “Take care, Mom. I’ll text as soon as I arrive.”
Keeping her arms around herbabyfor a few extra seconds, she swallowed her tears and hurried to the exit. She called Steve, grateful he’d dropped them and would be back to pick her up. In her current emotional state, she was unable to drive.
A few minutes later, his car pulled up to the curb, and she slid into the passenger seat.
“All went well?”
Lips pursed to avoid crying, she bobbed her head.
He tossed her a penetrating glance. “Would you like to stop somewhere and have coffee?”
“No, I want to go home.”And lie on my bed and try to sleep and forget everything.She rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
Attentive to her mood, Steve drove silently. They reached her house in record time.
“Thank you. I’m sorry, Steve, but I won’t invite you to come in for a drink. I’m completely worn-out.”
He peered at her face. “You look exhausted. I’ll come upstairs for half an hour, give you a medical massage, and leave.”
She frowned, but he didn’t let her utter a protest.
“All professional, Lillian. I don’t want to leave you now, not in the emotional state you’re in. You’ll end up crying for hours, tossing and turning.”
How well he knew her. She sighed. “I won’t be a sociable hostess.”
“You’ll be my patient. No socialization needed.”
She shrugged, slipped out of his Mercedes, and punched in the security code to open her garage door. In the kitchen, she indicated the liquor cabinet. “Pour yourself a drink if you want to. I’m going to change.”
“Wear something you can open easily for me to massage your back,” he said, using the same blank tone he would with one of his patients. She twitched her lips but didn’t have the energy to laugh. All she needed was a good night’s sleep.
In her room, she changed into pjs, wearing the jacket backward and leaving the buttons undone. “Is that acceptable, doctor?” She walked to the kitchen where he stood with a glass of scotch on the rocks in his hand and spun showing him her naked back.
“Perfect.”
“Where do you want me?”
“On the family room sofa. Lie on your stomach and put a pillow under your head.”
“All right.”
He set his drink on the cocktail table, sat near her legs, and placed his palms on her back. She’d given hundreds of massages to her patients, but had never received one. Covering her upper back, his hands felt warm, firm, and safe. Every nerve in her body quivered, yearning for more. She buried her head into the pillow and sighed. His palms pressed deep into her flesh, slowly rotating and kneading her muscles.
“Relax,” he murmured. “You’re all knotted. Let go of your worries. Think about Greg’s future, a successful young man. Think about a vacation on a beach where the sand is golden and the ocean turquoise. Think about the sun burning your skin and the waves surfing over your body.” His voice, soft and soothing, lulled her. She visualized the scenes he described, felt the sensations he suggested, and unwound under his deep massage.
