Page 62 of Big Stick Energy
“Thank you.” Darcy has been taking care of me in small ways ever since I met her. She does this for all the Legends, of course. But I’m sure nobody ever appreciated it as much as I do right this second.
Then? She walks over to those beautiful windows and draws the curtains over them until the room dims. When she does, I exhale. And then I take the tablets and chase them with a gulp of water.
“All right, E-Train.” She stands beside the sofa. “Tell me where it hurts.”
“Uh, my head.”
She rolls her eyes. “I got that. Butwhereon your fool head?”
Oh. “Here.” I grab the base of my skull. “And other places. Why?”
She pats the empty corner cushion. “Put your head right here.”
In too much pain to argue, I kick off my shoes and swing my legs up onto the sofa, away from Darcy. Then I recline my head at the other end.
Her hands dig into my shoulder muscles a second later, and I groan.
“Too much?”
“No. You’re perfect,” I say through gritted teeth. My head feels like there’s an iron clamp around it. “Everything else is too much.”
“Preach,” she says quietly.
“Don’t you have your class?” I worry.
“Shh,” she says, and the gentle sound is accompanied by more of her skillful touch. “I’ve got a few minutes until I log in. Just relax.”
I try, while her brilliant fingers dig into the tense muscles of my neck. And after a minute or two, her hands venture onto my scalp, pressing and rubbing. It’s more effective than I ever would have guessed.
“Lift up,” she says, tugging gently on my shoulder.
“Hmm?”
Darcy shows me what she means by lifting my head just enough to slide onto the sofa cushion and drop my head in her lap. Then she carries on with her massage.
I’m startled for about half a second. But then her fingers work their magic again, pressing against all the achy places on my cranium.
“There you go,” she whispers.
“And they say weddings are fun,” I mumble.
“Do they?” she whispers back. “Have they met our families?”
I open my eyes, and I’m immediately greeted by Darcy’s blue ones at close range. “I guess not,” I whisper.
She gives her head a little shake and continues to rub my head. “Here’s what I’ve learned about parents like ours,” she saysquietly. “You can’t change them, and it hurts a lot to try. But you can change your reaction to them.”
I think that over for a second. “Huh. I never thought about it like that.”
“It helps me to frame it that way,” she says.
“And that’s why I have a migraine, and you don’t?”
She chuckles. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just unlucky.”
Funny, but I don’t feel quite as unlucky as I did a half hour ago. And there’s only one reason why. I reach up, catching her smooth cheek in my palm. “Hey. Thank you. For everything you do.”
She blinks down at me, startled. But then she smiles. “You’re welcome. Now close your eyes and relax. Stop worrying about other people for, like, five minutes.”
