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sixteen
Constance said she worked out of her basement, and had given Tabitha the address. Tabitha drove out deep into the recesses of Dogwood County, mostly untouched by development, taking a long, winding country road to Constance’s house. She parked in the gravel driveway of the wooden two-story home, which was getting on in years but kept freshly painted and in good order. The entrance to Healing Touch Massage was marked with a sign on the back gate, which opened to a flagstone path lined by dogwood trees whose white flowers with green centers had probably bloomed and died off a couple months ago. Stretching their necks in between the trees were orange tiger lilies and patches of impatiens. A sign on the glass door indicated that Healing Touch was open.
Tabitha stepped inside the cool air-conditioning and was met by the aromas of eucalyptus and lavender. Soft music played over hidden speakers, punctuated by the squeak of Tabitha’s sneakers over the wood floor. The entire space had been decked out professionally, including a sofa and chairs that surrounded a round table with a spread of magazines. Tabitha sank to the cushions and lifted one about fitness. She tried to read an article about the “Five Best Stretches for a Woman’s Hips,” but she couldn’t focus.
The problem with massages, or things like getting your hair done, or your teeth cleaned, was you had to let people lay their hands on you, touch your body, get inside your head. On top of that, Auntie El had raised Tabitha to “do for herself” as soon as she could walk. It wasn’t an easy thing to allow a stranger to floss her teeth, massage her scalp or rub oil into her skin. She didn’t even like eating out, because telling the waiter what she wanted to eat for dinner seemed too intimate.
Yet, here she was, sitting in Constance’s waiting room, on a nice plush sofa, bathed in the sounds of spa music. Delaney had talked her into it, had texted Tabitha yesterday after her own massage and told Tabitha she’d be crazy not to take Red up on her offer for a free session. Tabitha agreed, only because she thought it would take a while for Constance to fit her in, but as soon as Tabitha texted, Constance found an opening for the next day. Now here she sat, regretting that impulse. Twice, Tabitha almost got up and left, but she kept herself rooted when Trinity gave her a huff each time. How the dog could possibly know such things, Tabitha had no idea, but she’d come to trust Trinity implicitly. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll stay.”
Trinity settled down, head between her paws, just as Constance appeared around the corner. She looked smart and professional, which was pretty much how she looked at the gym. The only difference was she wore navy blue scrubs, like a nurse, instead of fitness gear. She had her hair back in her usual ponytail and carried the same calm, open aura that seemed to start deep inside of her and radiated outward. “Tabitha!” She smiled wide. “You’re here. I’m so glad.”
Tabitha wondered if Constance greeted all of her clients that way. When people made appointments, they were expected to show up, yet Constance’s tone hinted at a whole lot of pleasant surprise. Tabitha tried to imagine her dentist getting that excited over her showing up on time, and she had to stifle a laugh.
“And Trinity.” Constance stepped closer to the dog without attempting to pet her. “Good to see you again. I remember when you were just a pup, fighting Neo and Morpheus for nipples.”
Now Tabitha did laugh. All the building tension left her body in an eruption of chuckles as she pictured the characters fromThe Matrixfighting for nursing rights.
Constance laughed with her, then nodded at her computer. “I looked over your intake form.” Constance took a seat across from her. “And everything seems to be in order. Not pregnant. Not sick. No allergies.”
Tabitha shook her head to all as her laughter wound down.
“Anything you’d like to focus on today?”
“Ummm.” As the rest of her humor died off, Tabitha started to sweat. Her palms got clammy and her armpits damp, which then made her anxious that she’d have sweaty armpits for her massage, which then made her sweat more.
Constance walked over to a sink in the corner and proceeded to wash her hands. “Any preference for how we start the massage? Face up or down?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Depends,” she said, over the rush of the water. “Some people prefer to start face up so that any anxiety they may have will be massaged away by the time they have to flip over and put their face in the cradle.”
Tabitha sorted through that comment and realized that Constance had just masterfully told Tabitha that if she had any PTSD—about her military experience or anything else in her life—then it would be just fine with her if Tabitha had trust issues and didn’t want her back exposed in a dark room while someone she didn’t know very well touched her bare skin. Except she hadn’t put it like that, because putting it like that might’ve made Tabitha uncomfortable. Looked like Constance was as meticulous with her client intake as she was with her handwashing, scrubbing backward and forward and up to her elbows, like she was getting ready for surgery.
“I was thinking we’d start faceup.” Constance spoke in a strong, low tone, not giving Tabitha time to answer, like she’d sensed the instant tension, and maybe even the sweat. “We can start with light pressure, see how things go, and just go by feel.”
Tabitha’s heart slowed immediately. She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Great,” she said. “That works.”
Constance dried her hands and walked over. “Come on.” She gestured toward the door at the far end of the room. Tabitha and Trinity followed. They entered a dimly lit room with a massage table, white linens turned back and pretty pink lamps glowing in the corners, and the eucalyptus smell intensified. “Get undressed to your comfort,” Constance said. “Then get under the covers faceup. This is your hour. You are not required to talk to me, but can if you wish to. I recommend you just relax and pretend I’m not here, unless you need to give me feedback. I can read your reactions pretty well, but if I miss something, feel free to speak up. Otherwise, your job is just to lie there and do nothing.” Constance gave a little shrug. “Just be.”
Tabitha nodded. Just be. She could do that. Right?
Question was, could she do that without all the thoughts and images and feelings invading her mind like blood dripping slowly over a white canvas?
As soon as Constance left, Tabitha settled Trinity in the corner and stripped off her shirt and shorts. She folded them neatly and laid them in a pile on the chair next to Trinity. Then she removed her jewelry and laid it on the table next to the chair. She debated on her bra. The underwear was staying put, but what about the bra? The straps would be in the way. But how naked would she feel without it? Finally, Tabitha unhooked the bra and added it to the clothing pile, then slid on the table and pulled the covers to her chin. The room was cool, but the table was heated. She’d expected to be uncomfortable but it felt like heaven. Plus, Trinity was there, the warmth of her furry body almost palpable in the cozy space. Tabitha closed her eyes and braced for Constance’s arrival.I’m so stupid, she thought.Most people would dream of a free massage. And here you are, tensing up like an idiot.
A soft knock came. A second later the door opened and Constance said, “All good?” her voice low, like a mom peeking in on her slumbering child.
“All good,” Tabitha whispered back. She waited for the sudden pressure, followed by the elbows and the pain and the tensing and the wincing, wondering why the hell she’d come here. Instead, a soft, warm cloth, smelling of lavender, draped over her closed eyelids. Tabitha drew the scent into her lungs and her pulse slowed. An indeterminate amount of time passed. Could’ve been seconds or minutes, but whatever it was, it gave Tabitha time to equalize. She got used to lying there. To nothing bad happening. To feeling okay in this space. Eventually, there was light pressure on her shoulders, like someone resting their hands. It was a comforting feeling. The mother she’d never had, letting her know that she was there, in the dark room, chasing away all the demons so that Tabitha could sleep. Tabitha settled deeper into the covers and the heated table. Her breath and her pulse chased and slowed until they caught and matched. The air got heavy, but not in a suffocating way. More like an old quilt, resting, sinking to her bones, protective.
At some point Tabitha became aware of hands on her neck, her arms, sliding between her and the table to reach her back. But that was background noise to the hazy disassociation that had happened somewhere along the line. A long, fuzzy line that Tabitha slipped into without a fight.
She was no longer waiting for the blood on the canvas. The explosive sound, that wasn’t really there. The sudden, jacked heartbeats with no explanation. Her lungs sucked of air for no reason. Tabitha was vaguely aware of her body, like she was floating in the big, white fluffy clouds of a sunny, summer day. Or maybe the waves of the ocean, licking over her body under a bleached blue sky. The world buzzed around her, like she lived inside a beehive and was sustained by the murmur of the workers, keeping her alive with the beat of their wings.
Tabitha didn’t remember anything after that. At some point, she woke. The room was cool and quiet. She was still on her back, had never flipped over, but could tell that her entire body had been massaged because all her muscles felt like they’d been gently rolled. She sat up, holding the covers over her chest, but nobody else was in the room except for Trinity, asleep on the floor next to the chair and Tabitha’s clothes. At the sound of Tabitha rustling the sheets, Trinity’s ears perked, then her eyes opened. Tabitha let her head get used to the feeling of sitting up before she swung her legs around, over the edge of the table. She sat there a moment, enjoying the wrung out feeling of her muscles. Her skin tingled pleasantly, her breath and pulse surprisingly even and slow.
Eventually Tabitha settled one foot to the cool floor, then another. She finally let the sheets go, knowing nobody was going to come in while she was dressing. She took her time getting to the chair, collecting her clothes, putting them on with deliberation. Trinity sat up and waited. Tabitha stroked her head. The last thing to go on was Tabitha’s watch. Even though she’d wondered what time it was, there was no clock in the room. A quick glance revealed that well more than an hour had gone by.
Tabitha drew one final deep breath before she cracked open the door and was met by the brightness of the afternoon sun. Constance sat at her desk, in front of a computer. She glanced over her shoulder as Tabitha emerged.
