I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I’m almost running late by the time I make it to the team’s physical therapy room. Melanie, my therapist, is waiting for me.
“Look who finally showed up,” she says, glancing at her watch with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Right on time. That’s not like you at all.”
I double-check my watch. “I’m not usually on time?”
“You’re always five minutes early. Always. I was starting to wonder if you’d been abducted.” She nods toward the resistance bands with a grin. “Come on, let’s get set up. How’s that shoulder?”
She’s been my physical therapist for long enough to know my routine at least as well as I do. And while she’s professional and takes her job seriously, she’s also easy to work with—which is one of the things I like best about her.
I roll my shoulder back and forth, then nod. “Not bad. I iced it after I got slammed into that wall, but it hasn’t bothered me since.”
“Good. And the knee?”
“All the swelling is gone.”
I start my sets like normal, but it only takes a few seconds for her to pause and tilt her head.
“Hey, slow down a little.” Her tone is still light, but no-nonsense. “You’re rushing through these.”
“Am I?”
She raises an eyebrow. “You seriously can’t tell? What’s going on? Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”
I hesitate, then shrug. “Yeah, actually. I need to get home. There’s a lot I still need to do before?—”
I cut myself off before I can say too much, but one peek at Melanie’s expression tells me that the damage has already been done.
“Before what?” Because now she looks genuinely curious. “What’s happening at home?”
“I’ve got people moving in.”
Now both of Melanie’s eyebrows shoot up. “People? Moving in? With you?”
I don’t think I’ve seen her look this surprised in… ever.
“It’s not like that. They’re not moving in permanently.” I adjust my grip on the resistance band and focus on the stretch in my shoulder rather than her pointed stare. “It’s Noah’s sister-in-law and her daughter. They just need a place to stay for a while.”
“Grant Parker. Mr. I-Live-Alone-Because-I-Don’t-Have-Time-For-Anyone.” She crosses her arms, and I know I’m not getting out of this conversation easily. “You’re having houseguests? That seems a little out of character, don’t you think?”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “I’m just trying to be helpful. Noah’s got a lot on his plate with the baby coming. Having two extra people at home would be too much for him to handle right now. It’s easier for me—I’ve got the space, and I’m not dealing with a pregnant wife and preparing for a newborn.”
She nods slowly, still looking like she’s trying to piece everything together. “That’s super nice of you. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
“It’s no big deal. Just trying to help out the team.”
“Right. The team.” There’s something in her tone—not skeptical exactly, but not entirely convinced either. She hands me the next resistance band and adjusts my form. “Well, however it came about, I think it’ll be good for you. That house is way too big and empty for just one person.”
The rest of our session is relatively quiet and uneventful, which is a nice change of pace after the tension of the past several minutes.
But just because I’m not talking about the growing knot of nerves in the pit of my stomach doesn’t mean they’ve gone away. If anything, those nerves have gotten worse since leaving the practice facility and heading home.
Now I’m sitting in the driveway and trying to picture the imposing, sprawling house from the point of view of someone who is seeing it for the very first time.
It’s big.
Too big, probably. Maybe even intimidating.
When I moved here, I was mourning my parents and busy with hockey. I told my real estate agent I only had two concerns—space and privacy—and this house has an abundance of both.
