Page 46 of Shamed
Mom’s sigh is soft. “Because I know my son.”
I hum, neither confirming nor denying. “How’s Tatiana doing?”
Tatiana was recently assigned as Mom’s night nurse, and since Mom usually loves everyone who takes care of her, I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say.
“Trying to distract me with another topic?” There’s amusement in her voice, but she answers me, despite knowing it’s a tactic, “Tatiana is such a sweetheart and funny. Goodness, shehas me giggling like a young schoolgirl every night she comes in.”
I take a bite of my food, chewing while Mom continues to talk about her new nurse.
“I know I’ve thanked you plenty of times,” she continues. “But I truly am grateful that you got me in here.”
“And it only took a thousand feet pics to do it.”
“Mase Turner,” Mom gasps. “You did not sell pictures of your feet!”
I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. “Relax, Mom. I was joking.”
A huff sounds through the phone. “I even knew that, and still, I got myself all worked up.”
“Sorry.” Lifting my bare feet onto the opposite chair, I smile softly. “And you’re welcome. I’m glad you like Tatiana as well.”
“I really do. Now back to what I was saying earlier . . . I just don’t want you to feel obligated to call me all the time.”
“Mom, you know I never feel obligated.” It’s so much more than an obligation. “And that’s never going to change.”
She lets out a soft hum. “Well, are you calling to let me know you’re coming by again today?”
“No, actually. I’ll be going to work shortly.” Not to mention that I never see Mom and Trix on the same day. It’s just . . . wrong.
“So, you just wanted to hear my voice?” she teases. “I do wish you’d find a lovely girl you could call just as much.”
The last swallow almost gets stuck in my throat, and I grunt. Not going to happen. “I’m fine with the way things are.”
Mom gives her usual soft sigh before thankfully changing the subject again.
We chat for a little while longer while I tidy up the kitchen, then it’s time for me to leave.
I quickly put on a tank and a jacket, then add some gym shorts to my duffle bag and throw it over my shoulder before heading to my old pickup. She rumbles to life at the turn of my key, then it’s a twenty-five-minute drive to the gym.
Thoughts of that woman,Jayne, from the seedy club have been pushing to the front of my mind since I walked out of there. It’s been bugging me that I can’t pinpoint why she seems so familiar. It’s not from one of my classes; I know that for sure.
After parking, I walk into the gym where I’m both a personal trainer and an instructor for self-defense classes for women who have been assaulted or who work in fields that make them feel vulnerable.
We offer drop-in classes from Tuesday to Thursday evenings, where one can learn basic maneuvers, or they can register for a more in-depth eight-week course that I teach on Friday evenings.
We have an arrangement with the local women’s shelter to send them my way, but I often offer one-time complimentary classes to people like Jayne who work in places likeTease.
That’s why I was at the club last night.
I’ve been told that, quite often, the women at those clubs want to feel like they can protect themselves if needed. Out of all the women I saw there, I hope Jayne accepts the free lesson I offered her. Something tells me she needs it.
“Hey, Mase,” Carol greets from the front desk. She and her wife have ownedFit for a Lifetimefor about ten years. They’re both in their early forties, and though I’m bigger than them, some days I think they could kick my ass if they wanted—not that they want to, of course.
“Hey, how was last night? Did you end up taking Danielle on the river cruise for her birthday?”
Carol grins. “Yeah. I took the old lady out.”
“Who are you calling old?” Danielle calls from inside their shared office behind the desk. “It was a good suggestion, Mase. Thanks.”
