“Yes. Whenever you can fit me in.”
The doctor pulled down Uma’s sleeves so Uma didn’t have to. Would she ever be able to face her own body?
“And I don’t have money now, but I’d like to pay for—”
“Please don’t worry about that. I am so sorry this happened to you.” Dr. Hadley took Uma’s cold hand in her warm one. Like a lump on the hard vinyl of the examination table, Uma sat, shoulders bowed beneath the weighty legacy of all that ink.
But she’d bared herself to this woman, if only partially, and damn it, she’d survived. To have that person be sympathetic to her plight, to understand at least some of what she’d suffered, without pitying her… It was deeply comforting. She shut her eyes and imagined tears rolling down her face, sobs filling the void.
“I’m glad to meet you, Miss Smith.”
“It’s Uma. Uma Crane.”
“I’m glad you came to us, Uma. I’m George. We’re going to take good care of you here.”
Uma believed her. This woman would take care of her skin, of that she had no doubt.
It was the rest that she worried about—the small, shriveled heart of her, deep down inside. Because that, she knew, was what she’d become. Just a shriveled little raisin of a heart. Despite this woman’s kindness and the relief her promises of help brought, at her very core, Uma suspected that the pain would never really go away.
* * *
Night had fallen, and the lights were on at the place next door when Uma emerged, still shaky, from the doctor’s office.
Great. Unless she’d been bluffing, Ms. Lloyd wouldn’t let her back into the house. She must have been kidding, though, right?
Uma took a couple of steps along the sidewalk, dazed and a little lost. What would she do if her boss didn’t let her back in?
Sleep in my car.
It wouldn’t be the first time—and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Resigned to the idea, Uma moved forward, only to encounter the door to the martial arts place, propped open in invitation.
Should she do it?
Yes, she thought.Do it.
The idea appealed. It would be something to help distract from the pain of digging up all the horror of her life. Something to make her forget it all before facing the long, dark hours of night—whether in a tiny room or a car. She’d just endured one of the hardest hours of her life. She could do this. She could do anything.
This is it. Do it.
Uma walked inside, greeted by a gust of warm, gym-tainted air. It was a universal scent. She’d never been to a gym that didn’t smell of rubber, socks, and sweat. There was no camouflaging it.
The woman at the front desk looked familiar, although Uma couldn’t imagine where she’d seen her, having been in town less than a week.
“You here for the self-defense class?”
“Um, just to get some information, please.”
“You’re in luck! Come on in and take a class with us. I teach it. I’m Jessie.”
“I can’t do it today.” What she really meant wasI can’t afford it, but she wasn’t about to admit to that.
“First session’s free. Come on, try it out. Starts in”—Jessie glanced at the clock on the wall behind her, and Uma’s eye noticed her earring, a small, tasteful diamond—“about fifteen minutes.”
Uma’s hand went automatically to her own naked lobe, and she thought of everything she’d left behind:my entire life. As far as possessions were concerned, Uma was only a few garments from being naked. She’d arrived in Blackwood devoid of possessions. Like being reborn. She almost liked that thought.
“I don’t have workout clothes.”
“You can wear what you’ve got on. Next time, if you decide to come back, maybe some yoga pants and a T-shirt, but you’re fine for tonight.”
