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“Let’s warm up with stair training,” I said, holding open the glass door.
Cam looked like she wanted to lean over the desk and smack me. She and I both knew stair training wasn’t part of Rowan’s treatment plan, and rarely something I did on the actual stairs. We had a step box that achieved the same exercise without risking a fall down a stone staircase. If Cammie suspected something was off between Rowan and me, I’d just confirmed it.
“You can leave your things here,” Cammie said to Rowan with a smile.
Rowan handed over her large bag, which meant she planned to return to the office after our conversation. I smiled at her as she walked through the door, but her face remained blank. Once we were out of sight of the glass door, Rowan whirled around and shoved her finger in my chest.
“Did you also have a bet with Cammie about when you’d take your physical therapy out of the office?”
“What?”
“You know,” she said, motioning her hands over my body, “physicaltherapy.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. She was so adorable when she was flustered.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” she said, her eyes growing watery.
“No, Rowan.” Before I could stop myself, I pulled her close. She was stiff in my arms at first but then melted against me with a shuddering breath. My chest tightened. I’d hurt her, that muchwas clear, but I had no idea how or why she thought I’d made a bet with Cam.
“Cammie said I owed her five bucks, so I paid her. I don’t know anything about a bet. I assumed I borrowed cash from her at some point and forgot to pay her back.”
“Did you tell her what happened between us?”
“No,” I said. “Why would I?”
I thought that’d put her at ease, but she tensed in my arms and took a step back. “Of course,” she said, wiping her eyes. “So, stairs.”
“I’m sorry. I should have stopped by yesterday.”
She waved her hand. “I misread the situation. Of course, you didn’t tell Cammie about what happened the other night. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“About that,” I said, taking a step closer. She straightened her spine, and all the warmth bled from her mossy green eyes. Everything stopped. My feet. My breath. I swear my heart stuttered. I backed away from her and pulled my tablet from my scrubs. “Let’s see how you manage a flight or two before the heat mat.”
She nodded and dutifully walked to the top of the stairs. On the rare occasion I did this type of exercise, I stayed beside the patient in case they needed help. This time, I remained on the top floor and watched her work down a flight, turn on the landing, and climb back up.
“Should I go again?” she asked, slightly out of breath.
“No, that’s good.”
She walked past me without a word, and I followed her into the office. Cammie looked between us and frowned. Rowan shuffled to the first table and laid face down. I ignored Cam’s frantic hand gestures summoning me to her desk and grabbed the heat mat instead.
“Are you ok?” I asked, placing the mat on Rowan’s back.
She closed her eyes. “I’m fine. Let’s just forget about the other night and focus on fixing my back.”
Which would be the sensible thing to do. Instead, I pulled the stool as close as I could to the table and took a seat beside her. “You know, when I was a kid, I never would have imagined I’d become a physical therapist.”
She opened her eyes but didn’t say anything. I figured that was enough permission to keep talking. “I switched between wanting to be a professional football player and a firefighter until I was twelve. Then, I decided I’d get a business degree and join my old man’s real estate firm if pro-ball didn’t work out. When I didn’t get recruited for college, I knew my chances of joining the NFL were slim, so Dad and I had a long talk about the work he did, and the classes I should take.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “Then, I shattered most of my right side in the accident.” Her eyes softened, and I had to fist my hands on my knees to keep from reaching for her. “The doctors said it’d be unlikely I’d ever walk without a limp. I went through four surgeries, and after each, I’d go to physical therapy. At first, I didn’t work very hard. Then, after I got Skye, I wanted to be able to run with her, so I did whatever the therapists asked, then I asked them for more. Little by little, I got stronger. Eventually, I could walk again. Then walk without a limp. By the time I finished PT, I could run, and I knew exactly what I wanted my life’s work to be. My dad supported my decision all the way, and I’ve never looked back.”
“Don’t worry, Dr. Cardoso,” she said closing her eyes again. “You keep training Chris, and I’ll keep attending my sessions.”
“I didn’t tell you that story because I’m worried about my job,” I said. “There’s only one reason I ever talk about that time in my life.”
I waited until she opened her eyes again to continue. “Sometimes I tell patients who are struggling, the ones who can’t push through the pain to do the work they need to improve.But that’s not you. From day one you’ve been motivated to get better.”
She nodded. “So why tell me?”
“Because” I said. “I want you to know me. I want to tell you things I’ve never told anyone. Like how when the classes got really hard in college, I thought about Logan. He wanted to be an oncologist, and he would have been a great one. He was the smartest person I’ve ever known. He would have helped so many people, but he didn’t have a chance. And for whatever reason, I did. So, instead of getting upset when I thought I had more work than I could do, I brewed some coffee, which I hate, by the way, and studied harder. I want you to know that. And I want to know more about your dad, and if it ever gets easier to miss someone. I want to know everything about you. I’m not sure what that means. You’re still my patient. And you’re only here temporarily, but I like spending time with you. I hurt you this morning, and I never want to do that again, so I guess I’m asking what I need to do to make things ok.”
