Chapter 2 Jesse

" T wo more...one more...and done. Good. Rest for two minutes. I'm gonna grab you some water."

Greg, my physical therapist, wisely left me alone after we finished too few side-step reps. I'd been stuck here for months, and my leg felt no stronger. I was making no progress. My knee ached, my hips were spasming all the time from over-compensating, and I was just fucking done.

I ripped off the resistance band with a satisfying snap and chucked it to the corner of the treatment area. Thankfully, the room was empty because I was either going to yell or cry, and I wasn't comfortable with either.

"Here you go, man," Greg said, handing me a cup of water.

I downed it on the off chance it helped. It didn't.

"I'm out, Greg. I can't do this anymore without feeling better. And I'm not blaming you or anything; I just can't."

My voice cracked on my last word, and I needed to get the hell out of there.

"I know it's frustrating to be stalled in your recovery, but you should—"

"What I should be doing is gearing up to be called to the majors, but instead, I'm here, in Emberwood, limping around because I can't do a fucking leg lift. Jesus Christ."

I blew out a breath and bit the inside of my cheek, hard, to try to settle the anger spewing out of me. Greg was quiet. He didn't look mad, but his pity was worse.

"I'm sorry, man. None of this is your fault... I'm just done for right now."

I grabbed my Emberwood Dragons hat and dragged my leg out of the office with as much dignity as I could muster.

Once the truck door closed, something between a yell and a sob forced its way out of my throat. My hands shook, and my breath came in short bursts. I forced myself to take a few deep breaths and willed my heart to slow down.

You should not drive all the way home like this.

I needed a distraction.

JESSE: Hey, I'm gonna stop by the salon if that's cool

LAUR: Sure. Is everything okay?

JESSE: Peachy

LAUR: I'll have an ice pack ready.

JESSE: Thx

It wasn't the first time I'd hobbled over there after a PT session, so at least she didn't expect me to be in a cheery mood.

A TINY BELL SOUNDED when I opened the door to The Dollhouse , and Lauren was cashing out a customer. She had on some sort of sparkly dress that looked like it came straight out of 1985. It probably had; she liked to thrift. It was late enough that there was only one other stylist working and the place was ready for closing. My sister caught my eye and furrowed her brows at me, concerned, but I waved her off. She sauntered over with an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel when she was finished.

"Bad?"

"Bad enough I don't want to talk about it."

"‘Kay. Do you wanna go next door and get a beer and not talk about it, or do you want me to cut your hair? It's a little past surfer dude and is entering the territory of maybe-he's-a-hippie."

She wrinkled her nose at that possibility, which earned at least a chuckle.

"No haircut today, but soon. It is about long enough to put into a ponytail, and I don't know if I can pull that off."

"You could, but you might need more tattoos and an earring. Maybe a bike and a bandana. We could do a whole makeover."

"Pass. Drinks are fine. I'll go grab a table."

She just nodded and went to clear her station.

The crowd was weeknight-light, so a table was easy to come by. I tried not to let my limp be noticeable even though I clearly had an ice pack strapped to my knee.

"Tell me you're not drinking alone, Jesse Garrett."

The server that came over was a girl I went to high school with, though she was probably two years younger than me. Jenny something. I tried to put on the grin of my former self.

"Ah, not tonight. My sister will be here in a sec. How've you been?"

Jenny prattled on about something until I heard, "...when do you think you'll be back to playing again? I loved going to the Mud Hens games when I was living in Toledo. I told everyone I knew you. Even in high school, we all knew you'd be in the majors someday."

She smiled, and I had no idea what my face looked like. The string tethering me to any type of social niceties was pulled too tight, and I could not deal with a trip down memory lane.

"Oh, uh, thanks. Not sure, still rehabbing the knee."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be back in no time. What are you drinking? First one's on me."

I gave what I hoped was a smile and not a grimace and ordered an IPA, cursing the misfortune of, well... my misfortune.

Thankfully, Jenny Something got the message that I didn't want to talk about the old days, brought my drink, and took Lauren's order.

"She asked about your knee, didn't she." Lauren didn't pose it as a question; she simply flipped her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder knowingly.

"She did."

"Damn it, Jesse, I can't let you go anywhere alone."

"It's been a while. I know people think it's reasonable to ask. Never in a million years did I think I'd be out this long, either. I probably should know what I'm doing by now."

"Sure. Anyway. Wanna hear about my bat-shit crazy client of the day?" Her green eyes widened, and I welcomed her ability to talk with no need for reciprocation.

"I thought you'd never ask."

I sat back and let her tell a story about some woman who wanted a cut without losing any length on her hair. I felt some of the day's anger leave my shoulders.

Perhaps I should see someone about that .

That being the anger that never quite dissipated. I imagined it wasn't healthy to carry it around all the time. For today, though, this was enough.