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twenty
The things that we love tell us what we are.
~St. Thomas Aquinas
When Tabitha arrived at Hobbs’s place, she noted that his truck was gone, which would give her and Hannah all the privacy they needed. Hannah greeted her at the door, holding a tiny green quilt with a pine tree in the center. Gracie did circles in the foyer, her natural playfulness heightened as she spied Trinity through the glass.
“I think it’s a little small,” Tabitha said, smiling as she hauled her massage table and rolling suitcase over the threshold. Trinity followed, and Tabitha immediately told her to break and go play with Gracie. As the dogs bounded away, Tabitha added, “I’m clearly no expert, but you know that won’t cover anyone, right?”
Hannah laughed as she closed and locked the door behind her. “It’s for George,” she said as she followed Tabitha into the living room. “I made it.” She held it up between her hands. George appeared out of nowhere, like he’d heard his name, screeched a meow, then did what could only be described as a gallop as he raced across the kitchen and into the room with the dogs.
Tabitha set her table down and took a second look at the miniature blanket. On close inspection, it was rather impressive. The quilt was made of squares that alternated in light and dark greens. Right in the center was the pine tree, in a different shade of green, which had been pieced with triangles, including a rectangular brown trunk. “This is really cute,” she said. “You made this?”
Hannah nodded, clearly excited by her gift for the cat. “I’ve always been into sewing,” she said. “My grandmother taught me. She made a lot of blankets and even clothes, whenever she had the time. I did stuff like this with her before she died.” Hannah’s excitement fell a little bit, like she was thinking back to her youth. “My mom let me bring her sewing machine with me. Along with George and Gracie, it’s keeping me sane.”
“Does George like his blanket?”
“He’s hairless,” Hannah said, like nobody had noticed. “So he definitely needs his sweaters and blankets. Especially in the cold weather. When he lies down with Gracie I put the quilt over him and he doesn’t move.”
“That’s adorable. Lily certainly nailed it when she chose you to foster that pair.” Tabitha unzipped her bag and hauled out the table. She’d decided to try a full massage for Hannah, and not just a quick chair treatment. She got the table set up, then plugged in the heating pad she’d splurged for. Red had told her the pad was worth the investment, especially in winter. The salt lamp followed, then the spa music on her phone. Tabitha located the switch for the lamp that burned on the end table and clicked it off. There. The room was perfect now.
“What should I do?” Hannah hugged herself, like she was nervous.
“You’ll undress to your comfort, then get under the blanket. I’ll go wash up and when I come back we can decide what you’d like to focus on.”
Hannah smiled, but still looked nervous. “Okay.”
Tabitha went into the bathroom to wash, to give Hannah privacy. The room smelled like cinnamon, which likely came from a small potpourri on the sink, plugged into the wall. The sink was spotless, the faucet shining. Small, perfectly folded blue towels lined the towel rack over the toilet. The matching blue rugs on the floor were fluffy, the tile clean. As Tabitha washed her hands with a foaming soap that smelled just like the potpourri, she briefly wondered what this bathroom had looked like before Hannah got here. The last time Tabitha was here she’d washed in the kitchen sink because Hobbs hadn’t undressed beyond his shirt. It was possible, though doubtful, that Hobbs was a neat freak, but the odds of him having a mini-Crock-Pot full of cinnamon potpourri were minimal.
As Tabitha dried her hands, she took a look at herself in the mirror and drew a deep breath. Her eyes looked tired, but also bright. The black scrubs she’d bought looked comfy and professional. Her nails were trimmed and smooth. Her conversation with Red at the gym yesterday came back to her. Everything from the birthday candles down to the job Red had suggested for her over the upcoming holiday—to volunteer massage for the wounded service members at Fort Belvoir, where Red had spent a lot of free hours. “It’s a matchless experience,” she had said. “It’s a different kind of massage, but one I think you are particularly suited for. It’s entirely different from massages at a spa, or on your fellow students. And my contact told me there’s a recent client who has fibromyalgia. You’ll get good practice.”
Tabitha hadn’t registered for Semester 2 of massage school yet. How things went with Hannah and the wounded service members would determine whether she was cut out for this or not. She eyed her reflection one more time and reminded herself that Hannah had suffered some kind of recent trauma. An abusive boyfriend, Hobbs had said. That, Tabitha felt particularly suited for.
She left the bathroom and found Hannah faceup, covers up to her neck. Tabitha realized she hadn’t directed Hannah to lie facedown, but in hindsight, this was a good mistake. Without direction, Hannah had chosen to lie faceup, probably because it was a less vulnerable position.
Trinity had settled near the couch, on the floor, but Gracie was doing circles around the table. She stopped near Hannah’s face, put her paws on the table and pulled herself to her hind legs. She licked Hannah’s nose and Hannah gave a gentle laugh. “I’m starting to win her over,” Hannah whispered, as though in reverence to the quiet room. “She still prefers Chris but that’s the real reason I’m making quilts for George. If I win George over, I’ll win Gracie over. Kind of evil, huh?”
Tabitha laughed. “Definitely. Smart, though.” She almost called Gracie down, who was nuzzling into Hannah’s neck, but then thought better of it. This wasn’t a clinical setting. This was Hannah’s home, and Gracie made Hannah feel good. If anyone could understand that, it was Tabitha.
Tabitha moved to the head of the table and closed her eyes. She took several slow, deep breaths and just let Hannah get used to them all being in the room together. By the time Tabitha opened her eyes, Gracie had settled on the floor, near Hannah’s head.
“Oh.” Tabitha stifled a laugh as George appeared out of nowhere, his pink, hairless body looking creepy by the orange glow of the salt lamp. He gave a long, drawn-out meow, then leaped to the floor and settled behind Gracie’s back. Tabitha spied the quilt Hannah had made lying on the couch, so she fetched it and draped it over George’s body.
Hannah watched quietly, her face slowly relaxing. “Look how cute they are,” she murmured.
Tabitha made a decision where to start, grabbed Hobbs’s ottoman and pulled it over behind the head of the table. She sank down, diminishing her height so she wasn’t looming over Hannah, and laid her hands on Hannah’s shoulders, still under the sheet and blanket. She squeezed with light pressure. Hannah’s shoulders relaxed.
She moved her hands up over Hannah’s shoulders, then to her upper traps, then slid them beneath her back. Hannah sighed and sank deeper into Tabitha’s hands. The music in the background was a soothing mixture of harps, flutes and birdsong that filled the room and softened the edges of everything. Hannah’s breathing deepened, and as Tabitha glanced down, she could see that Gracie’s ribs rose and fell in tandem with Hannah’s, as well as George’s, like the entire room was connected, feeding off the same pulse.
“Chris told me you were in the navy.” Hannah’s voice was almost a whisper, her eyes still closed.
“Yes, for a while. I enlisted when I was eighteen.”
“So did Chris. In the marines.”
“What a coincidence.”
“Why did you join?”
