Coming Home(153)

And then she asked if he would help her do it.

He knew what she was doing; if he was helping her, it was an excuse to exist in the world again, to enjoy his time with her without feeling guilty.

She was absolving him of any culpability for moving on.

She had one of the most beautiful souls of anyone he’d ever known, and Danny wondered if he’d ever stop being amazed by her compassion.

The following weekend Danny went with Leah to Zen Day Spa, and just as he had committed himself to sitting in the waiting area with his phone and a magazine for a few hours, the receptionist called both of their names. They spent the next hour getting a couple’s massage, and after that, Danny was sent to the sauna while Leah got a pedicure. By the time he came out, he felt heavy and sedated, and beautifully unwound for the first time in weeks.

And then they went to the reflexology room.

Danny had no idea that pressure points in a person’s feet could affect the function of their internal organs, and even their mood. In fact, he wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t experienced it himself, but as the woman began the massage, he could feel his headache disappear for the first time in days, the slight but constant nausea he’d been feeling slowly melt away.

Before they left the spa, Danny purchased a book on massage and reflexology from the front desk, and he and Leah spent the rest of the weekend reading it and practicing different techniques on each other.

He could think of worse ways to spend his weekend than with his hands all over Leah.

After that, Danny started spending every night at her apartment. His own place was gradually becoming unlivable as he began breaking it down and putting his things in storage, but in reality, he could have made staying there work. It was just that she had managed to wake him from his fog, and in resurfacing he found himself needing her like air.

He didn’t want to be away from her any more than he had to.

The following weekend, Leah surprised him by taking him to Per Se. They ordered a ridiculously expensive dinner and drank quality wine and spent the night making love on her living-room floor with Leah’s Ray LaMontagne CD playing on repeat in the background.

And now, Danny had arranged for Leah to cross another “Right Now” off her list—she told him she wanted to learn how to do something on a car that most girls didn’t know how to do. Something useful, like changing a tire.

So he explained to her how to do an oil change, and when she passed his “verbal quiz,” he decided she was ready to come down to the shop and put her new knowledge to use. She was hesitant at first, but now, as he watched her stick her head out from under the car and reach for the new filter Jake held, he could see that her confidence had won over her anxiety.

He couldn’t believe how quickly the days were disappearing. Time was a relative concept—Danny had always been aware of that. What he couldn’t understand was why the relativity never seemed to work in a person’s favor. For a specialist working to disarm a bomb, a minute is a mere blink of an eye—a fleeting breath. But for a mother waiting to hear her baby’s cry for the first time, a minute can be a lifetime, an endless stretch of anxious silence.

In a little over two weeks, he’d be standing in a courtroom, waiting for the decision that would dictate the next several years of his life. Just two more weeks. It might as well have been tomorrow, considering how quickly the past three and a half weeks had gone by.

And yet somehow he was sure time wouldn’t grant him the kindness of speed once he was locked away.

He watched Leah slide out from under the car, an oil-soaked rag in her hand as she ran the back of her forearm over her forehead, leaving a smudge of oil as she swiped the hair out of her eyes.