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I am not a religious man. I remember going to church with my mother once. At least I think it was a church. I remember the rounded wooden pews, and the red carpet running down the middle of the room. I remember singing that made me cover my ears, and her simple black shoes. Other than that day, I don't think I ever set foot in a church. I've never prayed.
Today, while this very quick woman speaks in rapid-fire Vietnamese to her friend and wields the nail clippers with terrifying efficiency, I pray. Please, God, don't let her cut me and give me a deadly foot infection.
I grip the arms of my massage chair tightly, and check in on everyone else. Janey and Bree are chatting, both looking completely at ease.
"Oh my god," Declan says, "look at that!"
I shouldn't have looked. On the towel next to his feet are chunks of...stuff. I don't know what. I can't stop them. The dry heaves and gagging start all by themselves. My brothers laugh hysterically, and I press my hands against my eyes, trying to wipe away the image, but of course, my brain wants to play it for me in a technicolor loop. I gag again, and again.
My brothers are gross. Always have been. And I've learned to handle a lot of gross, but the toe jam might be my downfall. Janey's soft hand touches my bicep. I use one hand on the side of my face as a blinder, and drop the other back to the arm of the chair.
"Hold my hand...please," I beg her. I won't survive this pedicure otherwise.
Her hand closes around mine, and just like that, she's all I can think about. I rest the left side of my head on the chair, and open my eyes. Janey's worried face is the first thing I see. Then a bright yellow tray is dropped in my lap, with Florence's very stern instructions not to 'vomit'.
"They're taking the towel away now," Janey says soothingly, a hint of laughter in her tone.
"Dude, yours were just as bad," Declan says. I eye Janey, waiting for her nod before turning to glare at him.
"You had a decade of dead skin in there. Mine were not that bad. You're nasty."
"Really? You sure about that?" He locks his eyes on Florence, who's at the sink across the room "Florence, show Jonas his towel, please."
She pins him with a glare, and points a finger at him. "No vomit!"
Wisely, he puts his hands up, and settles back in his chair. "Why haven't we done this sooner? We've been missing out, man."
"I don't know. The water is nice. So far, I can't say I love the rest of it." At all.
"What part is the hardest?" Janey asks, still holding my hand.
I shrug, and filter through all the sensations coming at me. "I actually kind of like the way it feels when she's digging around my toes. It's a firm pressure, and that feels good. I like the swirl of water from the jets. But I don't like my thoughts right now very much."
"Thoughts about what?"
"I want to Google ingrown toenails, gangrene, and foot infections. Just so I know what to look for later. And I'm wondering when the health inspector was here last. And how long they have to go to school before working here."
Janey frowns and tightens her fingers on mine. "That's a lot of worries. Is this a regular thing? This level of worry, I mean?"
I stare down at our joined hands, at the pale of her against my tanned skin. "Yes. When I'm doing something new, especially. I like to have time to plan and prepare. Then I can run through all the worries at once, and find answers to them."
"What kind of answers?"
"Like the treatment for Gangrene. Or the highest-rated nail salon in the city."
She purses her lips, and stares at my shoulder. Her lips are distracting. “What about yesterday, for our wedding...what did you worry about?"
"I worried that you would change your mind. That you might run out the back." Her hand wobbles in mine and she gives me a shaky smile. She almost ran, I'm sure of it.
"What was the plan if I did run?"
"I don't want to answer that question."
Her eyes narrow, and she tilts her head. "Why?"
I use the excuse of the nail ladies sitting down in front of Declan and I to not answer. I don't think she's ready to hear the answer to her question anyway. Because if she wasn't going to run before, my answer would send her packing immediately.
She doesn’t need to know that I had Declan get me a map of the building. Or that I had most of the exits locked before we got there. I wasn’t planning to kidnap her, just slow her down a bit until I could catch her.
