I WAS WAITING FOR KAEL when I got Elodie’s text with the Buzzfeed link. She was the queen of “Is It Your Fault You’re Single?” quizzes, and “Are Women Taking Over the Self-Employment Industry?” articles. This one was “25 Things You Need To Know About Target” I was one click away from finding out something new about Pringles and Tide PODS, or maybe how to spot the quickest checkout line, when Kael appeared in the lobby.
“Hi,” I said. “Hope everything was okay.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he answered. I rang him up and handed over the credit card slip to sign. I’d never felt anxious seeing a client scribble his name across that little black line before, so this was new. And, of course, Kael wasn’t giving anything up, which left room for me to fill in the blanks. First I wondered if he’d come back for another massage. Then it was, What’s going to happen after he stops crashing on my couch?
He left me a twelve dollar tip on a forty-five dollar massage. It was more than generous. Certainly it was more than I usually got. I felt a little weird about it, like he was giving me charity or something. Or paying for my time, which I guess he was. But I did need the money, so I took it with a smile. Ok, the smile was mostly forced, but he couldn’t tell. At least, I didn’t think he could.
I thought about how I had talked through half of his massage. It probably didn’t make for the most relaxing experience.
“Sorry I talked so—”
Kael cut me off before I could finish. “No,” he said, and offered me a friendly shrug of his shoulders. “It’s cool.”
I was learning him, but I still couldn’t tell whether he was lying or not. Wouldn’t he be at least a little annoyed by all my nervous chatter? Ok, he asked me a question or two, but I was the one who talked about my shifts and how my brother was causing me major stress over his second arrest. I almost spent the next few minutes talking about my brother and how I was worried about him, but for once, I didn’t want this to be about Austin. Maybe I wanted to seem more mature than I was, or maybe I wanted to protect Austin from a stranger’s opinion. Whatever the reason, I moved on to something else.
“What color should I paint the walls in here?” I had asked him.
“What color do you want to paint them?” he’d answered.
And …
“Is it overly decorated in here?” I’d asked.
“I didn’t notice,” he’d answered.
And …
“Do you feel like you’re in an expensive spa in a big city, instead of here, in this strip mall?”
Shrug.
Kael answered with a word or two now and then, but mostly it was my voice that filled the room. We were in the lobby now—not exactly a therapeutic space—but he was still playing the strong, silent type.
“Do you want a receipt?” I read the prompt from the credit card machine.
“Of course.” He held out his hand.
“Of course? Such certainty over a credit card receipt?” I teased him. I was beginning to love doing that. He reacted differently nearly every time. It was fascinating.
“Responsible,” he said. He almost smiled as he tucked the receipt into his wallet. It was leather, light brown and obviously well-used.
“Sure,” I snorted. “Whatever you say.”
“Better hope you don’t get audited.” No smile this time, but he did give me a raised eyebrow.
Mali was watching everything closely. When Kael came out into the lobby after his session, she had been busy nearby, humming to herself while wiping the fingerprints from the glass door. Now she’d given up even the pretense of cleaning.
“See you tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah. For sure.”
He waved to me and said a polite goodbye to Mali, calling her ma’am and all. The door closed and she turned her attention to me.
“Mhm?” I knew what she was thinking.
“What mhm?” I closed the cash register and stuck the tip in my pocket.
Her eyes fell on the door again and a Cheshire-cat grin spread across her face. “Oh, nothing.”
“Stop gossiping,” I told her as I disappeared down the hallway.