Arthur’s lips press together, but not in the sharp, irritated line I’ve seen from him before. This time the corners twitch, fighting a smile. His eyes catch mine, dark and steady, and the amusement there makes my pulse skitter in a way I don’t want to acknowledge.
“Noted,” he says, the word low and deliberate, as if he’s tucking it away for later.
I step back quickly, trying to recover some semblance of professionalism. At a safer distance, my head clears, my pulse steadies. It’s easier to look at him when I’m not standing close enough to feel the pull of his presence. Easier on the neck too.
“I assume you’ve done physiotherapy before.”
“You assume correctly.”
“And?”
“It didn’t work.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Like I said. The plan won’t work if you don’t. Did you follow the physiotherapist’s plan?”
His eyes scan the room like they’re looking for the answer to my question. “Yes.”
I’m not buying it. “How closely?”
“Fairly closely.”
“Fairly?”
He shifts on his feet, redistributing his weight. “Reasonably closely.”
“Which was it, Coach? Fairly or reasonably?”
His hand comes up to scratch the side of his jaw as he appears to be considering my question. “Fairly reasonably.”
I huff a laugh, shaking my head. “Okay. I’m going to be straight with you, and in return you’re going to be honest with me.”
He nods warily.
“I really think I can help you but it’s not going to be a quick fix. It’s going to take time.”
“How much time?”
“Realistically? Months. Several months.” I watch the muscle in his jaw tighten. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. I’d like to start slowly with a combination of stretching, massage, and functional movement. Focus on reducing your stiffness and discomfort. Move on to regaining ankle mobility and strengthening your calves and glutes. And, eventually, work at improving your gait. You could even come to my aquafitness class, if you’d like. It’s great exercise for injury recovery. I know it sounds like a lot, but you’re young. You’ve got the time. You’ve got the resources. At the end of the day, whether this happens or not doesn’t come down to strength or talent, it comes down to attitude. So what’s it going to be?”
I see the moment my words land because his body transforms in front of me. The slumped shoulders draw back, the curved back straightens and his expression goes from doubt to pure conviction.
“Let’s do this.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Well, not the aquafitness class. There’s no way in hell I’m doing that.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, I walk him through the exercises I want him to start with. Neither of them are new to him. Eccentric heel raises and towel stretches are classics for a reason. They work. Even though he rolls his eyes at the elementary exercises, he does them without complaint.
“So, you’re going to do them every day?” I ask him for the third time as he’s getting ready to leave.
“Yes, Boss.”
I’m pretty sure he’s making fun of me, but as far as nicknames go, I love it.
“I’m serious. I’ll know if you don’t.”
He buttons up his coat before heading out the door. “Sure you will.”
