We all wave.
“She did great. Surgery went perfect, and the ankle should heal well. She’s in the recovery room, and a little loopy, but you should be able to take her home in a couple of hours. She’ll have a sheet that tells you everything you need to know about caring for her. She’ll have a boot on and I’m giving her a prescription for a medical knee walker so that she can get around. There are a couple of places to rent them if you prefer—might want to ask your insurance what they cover. But you can go in and see her in a moment.”
“Thank you, Doc, really appreciate it,” Gio says.
“She’s requested the ladies first . . .” the doctor says. “A nurse will be out soon to escort you in.”
? ? ?
You dinn’t tell him . . .” Teresa says groggily when Lynne and I come in the room.
“Of course not,” Lynne says.
“I said it was my fault, I was trying out some new exercise programs, and you guys were just helping me out.”
“Did he asssh what kind of class?” she asks.
“He didn’t, but we should know one, just in case . . .” Lynne says, turning to me.
“I’m signed up for Zumba at Lakeshore Fitness tomorrow morning?” I admit sheepishly.
“Perfect,” Lynne says. “Just the kind of fast dancing old klutzy here could injure herself on. T? That registering with you?”
“Yesh. Zuuuumba. We were Zumbaing and I twisted my ankle and fell on it,” Teresa says sleepily.
“Excellent. We’re gonna let your boys in. We’ll check in tomorrow,” Lynne says, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
“Try and get some rest. Talk to you later,” I say, squeezing her hand, and Lynne and I leave the recovery room and head out to send in her family.
? ? ?
Ouch!” Shawn says when I relate the details of her injury on the phone. “That is a bad one. Ankles are hard—however optimistic the doc was, they often never really fully heal. She’s likely to have some residual pain and weakness pretty much permanently. How did she do it?”
I pause. I think about telling him about the bet, but then I think it might make it look like I’m only going out with him for that, so I chicken out. “Exercise dance class. I’m trying out a whole bunch of new things to try and get into better shape, and they were keeping me company.”
“I like your shape just fine, doesn’t look like it needs any improvement from where I sit.”
I blush. “Well, thank you, but I’m sure you understand as a former athlete, when you start to think you’ve really let yourself go, it doesn’t feel great.”
“I know what you mean. You spend all those years focused on your body, conditioning it to do what you want it to do, and when that stops being its primary function, you have to figure out how to feel healthy while balancing that with more normal life.”
“Exactly! At first it feels like getting away with something to not work out as much, or as hard, but for me it was too easy to get out of the habit altogether.”
“When I was in med school, it was okay, because I could study on the treadmill, and I had a buddy who was a gym rat too, so we would quiz each other and do flashcards as part of our weight reps. But when I got into my residency? The only exercise I got was running around the hospital. I took the stairs, biked there when the weather was nice, but getting to the gym? Didn’t happen.”
“You were better than me. I finished physical therapy, went to college and did just enough to maintain my recovery, and then I moved to France and most of my exercise was walking somewhere close to eat something delicious!”
He laughs. I love his laugh. Deep and resonant. “Well, if being healthier is important to you, as a medical professional, I support all of that. You said you are trying a bunch of stuff—anything you like so far?”
“I seem to do the best with swimming and water-based activities. I know water aerobics sounds like the most popular class at the senior center, but I love the weightlessness, and how easy it is for me to stretch in the water.”
“I recommend water classes for a lot of my patients. Just swimming in general is a great workout. I enjoy it myself. In fact, if you like, I’m a member at East Bank Club and sometimes I do their Power Circuit Pool Workout. It’s really good. Only on Wednesdays from six to seven in the morning. Want to meet me and we’ll do it together and then have breakfast before work?”
My heart stops. East Bank? The city’s toniest health club, full of hard-body trainers and tiny little exercise-obsessed women who glow instead of sweat? Morning isn’t exactly my best time, plus, water? This means a bathing suit and no makeup and wet hair and . . .
“No pressure, I mean, if you don’t want to . . .” he says.
“I do!” I don’t! Why did I say that?
“Great! It’s a really fun class, challenging, but the instructor is cool. And the Grill makes some very tasty omelets.”
“Sounds like fun, thank you.” Sounds like a nightmare. And it sounds like I have to buy a new bathing suit ASAP.
“I’m just excited that I get to see you two days in a row. What do you think about steak for Tuesday night? Since we’re going to be all athletic Wednesday morning . . .”
I can’t be too upset when he is already locking down a third date before our second date even happens. “I never say no to steak.”
“Have you been to Boeufhaus yet?”
“Not yet, but I hear great things.”
“Well, then, let’s give it a shot!”
Simca gives a little bark at the door. “Speaking of exercise, looks like someone is in need of a walk before bed.”
“I will let you go. Busy day tomorrow?”
“Yep, groceries bright and early and then at the Farbers’ all day getting the week organized.”
“I’ll let you work, and check in tomorrow night if that is all right?”
It’s more than all right. “Sounds good.”
“Have a good night, Eloise.”
“You too, Shawn.”