by Nella Tyler
I told myself that there was nothing different about the latest session with Mackenzie, that Landon was just the same as he had always been and so was Mackenzie, but ever since Landon had asked me if I thought Mackenzie looked like his mother, something had been eating at the back of my mind. I sat on one of the benches, watching the two of them as they went through one exercise after another, talking like they always did. She doesn’t look anything like Joanne. Nothing at all. I watched Mackenzie guiding Landon through another exercise, encouraging him with her soft voice full of enthusiasm. “You’re doing great, Landon,” I heard her say, patting my son on the shoulder. “Two more of these and we can take a break.”
Landon told Mackenzie about his school day as he caught his breath, and I listened in too, even though I’d gotten all the news from him as we’d driven to the center from the school only a few minutes before. “One of the third graders said that Jessie is my girlfriend,” Landon told her; that was one thing he hadn’t mentioned to me.
“Oh? Did you ask him why he thought that?”
“He said it was because I always spend recess with her, and I share my afternoon snack with her.” Landon made a face. “She’s just nice.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Mackenzie advised him. “I doubt that third grader boy even know what he’s talking about.”
“But he’s so much bigger and older!”
Mackenzie shrugged. “I’m bigger and older than him, aren’t I?”
Landon considered the question and then nodded and I stifled a little laugh. “You must know a lot more about boyfriends and girlfriends then,” my son concluded.
“I know a little bit,” Mackenzie admitted. My heart beat a little faster in my chest with a kind of dread; I just knew Landon was going to ask a question that I’d have to talk Mackenzie’s way out of. “I’ve had a few boyfriends in my time.”
“Did you share your toys with them?”
Mackenzie laughed, leading Landon over to a new machine. “When I had toys to share, yes, I did,” she said, nodding sagely. “But a boyfriend or girlfriend is really just a special kind of friend, a different friend. Is Jessie different from your other friends?”
“Not really,” Landon said after thinking about the question for a moment. “She’s just a normal friend.”
“Then she’s probably not your girlfriend,” Mackenzie said. I didn’t know why, but I was glad she wasn’t taking the tactic of telling my son that he was too young to have a girlfriend; that was exactly where most people’s heads would have gone—hell, it as where mine went—but the way she was explaining it to him made so much more sense, and she dodged the issue of things that weren’t right for him to know yet. She works with kids all day, I reminded myself. She probably hears all kinds of talk about boyfriends and girlfriends, especially in the older kids. There were a couple of pre-teens in the area with us, working on balancing exercises, and I could tell that the girl was making eyes at the boy.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
My stomach dropped to my knees at the question. Oh god, Landon… it was exactly the kind of question that I’d hoped Mackenzie’s explanation would avoid. I’d hoped that Landon would move onto something else before he thought to ask it.
“Landon, that’s not a good question,” I started to say. “Mackenzie is…” but she glanced at me, humor in her big, bright eyes, and held up a hand.
“It’s okay,” she said, laughing a little bit. “I don’t mind being asked about it. Kids are always curious. I’d rather have kids asking me than adults anyway.” She turned back to pay attention to Landon. “I don’t have a boyfriend right now,” she told him. “Can you hop on up here for me?” Landon did as he was told, and in minutes they were back on task, the question of Mackenzie’s love life forgotten.
Except by me. I wondered why Mackenzie was single; was it by choice? She was a beautiful woman, and obviously patient and kind, as well as smart. If I had ever really thought about it, I would have probably just assumed that she was seeing someone—maybe someone in medicine like she was, who would understand her stress and her lifestyle. A guy would have to be really special to deserve a woman like that. If she wasn’t single by choice, then what was wrong with her? She didn’t seem to have any red flags—no crazy vibe to her, nothing awkward about the way she talked to either me or Landon. She seemed fine.
I made myself forget about the question and focus on what Landon and Mackenzie were doing. I thought she might be going through some evaluation of him even while they went through the exercises together; she kept looking at a clipboard and marking things off on it that I couldn’t see. I couldn’t help but wonder what verdict she was coming to.
Landon was full of energy, and he got through the exercises easily; even the stretches that normally bored him. He asked Mackenzie about a wide array of subjects as they went through the session—but thankfully he didn’t touch on the subject of her single status ever again. In spite of what she’d said, I couldn’t imagine that Mackenzie was really all that okay with the fifth degree about her love life. I knew I’d get irritated if it came up for me.
Instead, they chatted about movies and video games.
“I don’t really play that much anymore,” Mackenzie admitted. “But I was a total champ when I was in school.”
“What kind of games do you like to play?” Landon had only liked video games a little bit before his broken leg; but I’d bribed him with a few new games when he’d had to keep off of his leg for a few days, so I could get him to stay on the couch with his leg propped up to help it heal. Ever since then he’d been more and more into them.
“I like puzzle games,” Mackenzie said.
“Dad likes those! Don’t you dad?”
I laughed, standing up and joining them at one of the machines. “I like all kinds of games,” I said. “I even like card games.”
“Dad is so good at Uno,” Landon told Mackenzie. “I can only beat him sometimes, not all the time.”
“Well that’s pretty impressive then,” Mackenzie said, glancing at me. I could see she was fighting back the urge to laugh. “I could never beat my dad. But my mom was always really easy to beat—she hated to make people mad at her by making us draw four or anything like that.”
“I love those cards,” Landon said excitedly. “I win by using them every turn for like, five turns!”
“That will definitely help you out,” Mackenzie agreed. “Not a bad strategy. Maybe I’ll use that the next time I play against my dad.”
Eventually the session came to a close and Mackenzie gave Landon permission to use the restroom as she went back to her desk. “I’m really pleased with Landon’s progress,” she told me, sitting down.
“He seems to be doing well,” I agreed. I felt weirdly awkward and didn’t know why; I’d been attracted to many women before, it wasn’t like Mackenzie was any different. You’re awkward because Landon asked the weird question. That’s the only reason.
“I don’t want to get your hopes up too much,” she said slowly, “but he’s actually beating my original expectations. He may finish PT early by a few sessions.”
“That would be great,” I said, smiling. It occurred to me that if Landon did recover completely ahead of schedule, that I wouldn’t have an excuse to see this woman several times a week anymore; part of me thought that was for the best, while the rest of me hated the idea.
“Dad! We have to go home! We’re going to miss the show!”
I turned to see Landon hurrying as much as his still-weak leg would allow him, coming up to me from the restroom.
“Did you wash your hands?” I asked him.
He held his hands up for inspection; they looked clean, but of course I didn’t have a positive way to know whether they were or not. “I’m going to trust you this time,” I told him, and Landon dropped his hands at his sides, swinging them a little bit. I turned back to Mackenzie; she had picked up a bottle of water and was in the midst of taking a sip from it. “Thank you so much f
or the good news,” I said, at a loss for anything else to mention.
“It’s my job,” Mackenzie said with a little smile. “And with a patient like Landon it’s a lot of fun.” She set the bottle down and stood, gesturing that she would follow us to the door leading into the lobby. “I’ll see you guys again soon; I think maybe tomorrow, right?” She looked at the woman in charge of the front desk.
“I think that’s right,” I said, nodding. “Let’s get going, bud. Mackenzie has more work to do.”
I helped my son up into the back seat of the car and made sure his seatbelt was buckled properly before climbing into the driver’s seat to start back from home. I had a lot of shopping ahead of me; in addition to Landon’s Christmas list, I had other families I had to buy for, and I thought I would probably order most of it off of Amazon if I could—that way I could have it giftwrapped and make sure I got it on time.
“Dad, I want to add something to my Christmas list,” Landon told me from the back seat.
“Is that so? You know I’ve already started shopping for you,” I said. “But maybe Santa can work something out, depending on what it is.”
“I don’t think Santa can do it,” Landon said, his voice surprisingly serious. “It’s not a toy.”
“Sometimes Santa makes things that aren’t toys,” I pointed out. “Remember last year he got you that fish.”
“Yeah,” Landon said. In the rearview mirror I saw him nodding thoughtfully. “But this is different.”
“What is it?” Landon pressed his lips together.
“I’ll ask Santa.”
I frowned. If there was something my son really wanted, I definitely wanted to know what it was—and if I could get it for him, then I would. Anything that Landon was this serious about, if it was really possible, I wanted him to have.
“What’s on your mind buddy?” I changed lanes to avoid a snarl in the traffic and bit back the angry comment that rose to my lips at a near miss. I’d made a promise to myself that Landon would never see me having road rage—I didn’t want him to ever feel afraid in the car, and I didn’t want him to inherit my tendency in that respect.
“I was thinking,” Landon said after a moment. “I have a lot of things on my list, right?”
I shrugged; Landon’s list seemed to be fairly standard to me. He had about five items he had told me he really wanted, and a few more that he “only sort-of” wanted on top of those. It would be pretty easy to get them all.
“It’s a respectable list,” I said.
“I want to bet you something,” Landon told me.
“Oh? That sounds interesting.” I was torn between feeling amused and worried about the fact that my son wanted to make a wager with me.
“The thing I want to add to my Christmas list is a mom,” Landon said quickly. “But Santa can’t bring me that, can he?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not really in his wheelhouse.”
“So you’d have to get it for me.”
I cringed slightly at the unfortunate phrasing. “You want a mom for Christmas?”
“I want a mom,” Landon confirmed. “If…if you could find me a mom, I would be willing to not have the rest of my list.”
“Really?” It hadn’t occurred to me that Landon could be that interested in having a new mom.
“So I want to bet that you can’t find me a mom,” Landon explained. “If you can find me a new mom by the New Year, then I’ll…”he hesitated. “I’ll give my toys from my Christmas list to someone else.”
“Like a charity for other kids?” Landon nodded. “That is a good thing to do. What if I can’t find you a mom by the new year?”
“Then you have to get me double the toys,” Landon said quickly.
I laughed. “That’s a fair bet,” I told him. I thought about Mackenzie without quite knowing why. Her beaming smile and bright eyes just appeared in my mind. “I’ll take that wager,” I told my son. “If I can find you a new mom by the new year, you donate your toys to a charity, and if I can’t, I will buy you double your list—but the second half will be in the new year. Deal?”
“Deal!”
Chapter Nine - Mackenzie
I was the last one left in the office; I’d stayed late after Landon and Patrick left, and even after the other PT staff left, so I could catch up on a few things that absolutely had to be done in the files on the computer—no way to take them home, because of confidentiality laws. So even as everyone slowly made their way out of the building, calling out their goodbyes as they made for the door, I sat at my desk and filled in reports and evaluations and updates to files for each of my patients, including some information that would have to go to insurance companies.
Even with the pile of extra work on my plate, I was only willing to stay after hours for so long. I started to think longingly about getting a hot chocolate from the café one block down from the building, and drinking it in my nice arm car while I made my way to my apartment. “Maybe I’ll make some stroganoff for dinner. Or reheat some of that chili I made last week,” I said to myself in the empty office. As December wore on it was getting colder, and there was enough snow outside that I didn’t really want to do any Christmas shopping that night—besides, I was exhausted. Maybe, I thought, I could make a mug of spiced wine when I got home, and I could drink it in the bathtub, soaking and getting the cold out of my bones, relaxing until I was ready to get some sleep.
The thought started sounding better and better in my mind, and I decided to wrap everything up for the evening and get into my car before it got much colder out. I started shutting everything down, getting my things together, making sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. Just when I was about to pick up my purse and head out of the office, I heard my phone ringing.
I slipped my hand into my pocket as I gathered up my purse, yawning slightly. The number on the screen was familiar—but it wasn’t one of the contacts I had in my phone; there was no name assigned to it. I decided it must be someone I knew, if the number looked familiar to me, and tapped accept.
“Hello?”
“Hey Mackenzie.”
This time—unlike the first time that he’d called me—I recognized Patrick’s voice.
“Is something happening with Landon?”
I felt a little flurry of apprehension at the possibility that the cute little boy who was making so much progress might have gotten injured.
“No—I mean, he’s fine,” relief from the worry flowed through me. “He was complaining earlier that his ankles hurt sometimes.”
“Oh—that’s probably normal,” I said, sitting down in my desk chair as I thought about Patrick’s almost-question. “In addition to the fact that he’s working muscles that he hasn’t done a whole lot with in his life, he is a growing boy. Is it a sharp pain, or is he just achy?”
“I think he’s just achy,” Patrick told me. “If it happens again I’ll ask him.”
“You can also check and see if you notice any swelling or bruising around his ankles or feet, if it comes up,” I explained. “If he injures himself—playing on the playground, or something like that—we can take a look at it. Otherwise, if the pain is bad enough for him to notice, get him to rest for a bit, keep his weight off the ankles for a while.”
“That’s good to know,” Patrick said. I heard a weird sort of hesitation in his voice, and wondered what was on his mind. “Hey—so, Mackenzie, I just wanted to apologize again for Landon prying into your personal life.”
I grinned to myself. “It’s no big deal, really,” I told Patrick, shrugging even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Kids are always curious about the adults in their lives, and by now Landon probably sees me the same way he does his teacher. I’m used to getting personal questions from kids.”
“Then let me apologize for the fact that I’m kind of glad he asked,” Patrick said, I frowned to myself. “Not—not that I would prompt him or anything like that, you understand. But since you’re single, I was wondering: wo
uld you maybe like to get some coffee sometime? Or maybe catch a movie?” My stomach gave a lurch inside of me, and I felt my cheeks burning.
“I—I—thank you, Patrick, but I’m not supposed to date patients’ parents,” I said weakly, even as my heart began beating faster and faster in my chest. “It’s not anything personal, I just—it’s an ethics thing. I could maybe get in trouble for it.”
“I thought that specialists couldn’t date patients; you’re not treating me.” I looked around the office, grateful for the fact that I was the only one there.
“I think…” I remembered Amie’s comments. “I—it’s not that I don’t like you, Patrick.”
“If you like me, and I like you, then what’s wrong with grabbing a coffee? I swear, I won’t push for anything more than you want. I just thought…” he went quiet for a moment. “I wanted to do something nice together.”
“Maybe?”
I bit my bottom lip. I couldn’t deny that I found Patrick easy on the eyes—and he was charming to boot. He obviously loved his son, and I put a lot of credence on the way that parents treated their kids. “I don’t know, Patrick. I don’t want to…to mess up the relationship between us.”
“It’s just coffee, Mackenzie,” Patrick said again, his voice wheedling. “I swear if it’s weird and awkward and bad, I’ll never pester you about it again.”
“When would you want to go out?” I looked at the calendar on my desk; it was empty, of course—save for the holidays when I would be with my family, I didn’t have any plans for the month. I hadn’t had any solid plans for almost half a year. The calendar really only ever saw professional stuff—never anything personal. Sometimes I wondered why I even had it.
“How about tomorrow night? It’s the start of the weekend, we could get started in style.”
“Let me check,” I said. I’ll be damned if I let him know I have no social life. At least, I’m not letting him know right away. I flipped through some papers on my desk, blushing at the silliness of what I was doing. I was even more grateful than before that there was no one in the office with me. “I think I can make tomorrow night,” I said finally. “I should be able to get out by five?”
