Healing Hands
Word Count -- 767 Words
The sad ones were always her favorites. Not because they were sad, heavens no. But because, for an hour at least, Bella could make them feel a little better. And so that was why, when a new client walked into her parlor and projected her frazzled energy so far into the space that Bella could feel it in the kitchen, she put on her softest smile and channeled every bit of healing energy she could into her hands.
She was tense through the interview, where Bella asked about health concerns, focus areas, and preferences. The women answered in clipped, short words and didn’t look Bella in the eye. Still, Bella remained patient and spoke softly, smiling when the woman happened to look up. She was tense when Bella led her to the massage room, casting nervous glances around at the walls and the floor. Even when Bella returned for the massage itself, the woman lay face down on the table, her shoulders up around her ears and her arms tight at her sides.
Bella would have to work hard to help this woman, she realized.
“Alright, Samantha,” she softly greeted as a way to announce that she had arrived back in the room. “Are you ready to get started?”
A stiff nod. Bella smiled despite herself.
“Your hands are so warm,” the woman sighed when Bella began working on her shoulders. Bella hummed an affirmative and informed her about the warming oil she used on all of her clients.
“Smells nice.”
“Lavender, tea tree, and rose oils. To help you relax.”
“Does aromatherapy really work?”
“I’ve seen it do wonders.”
The woman made a noise that did not sound entirely like belief, but didn’t speak anymore. Bella worked in silence for a while then, listening to the gentle sounds of the water machine in the room, the soothing music she played, and the increasingly long, slow breaths her client was taking. She worked with gentle hands to coax knots out of her neck, her shoulders, and her back.
Bella had just begun work on her legs when the woman spoke.
“My daughter and I keep fighting,” she offered without warning. Not uncommon for Bella’s clients.
“May I inquire as to what?” Bella was careful to keep any emotion out of her voice, continuing instead to focus her attention on the tight calf muscles in her hands.
“You name it,” her client laughed without mirth. “It’s like she turned 14 and branded me public enemy number one. And we used to be so close…”
“14 is a delicate age for everyone,” Bella agreed gently.
“Whatever I tell her to do, she does the opposite. I’m not even sure if it’s because she wants to do the things that she does, or if she just wants to spite me.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Of course,” the woman hissed, her thigh muscle tightening up in Bella’s hands. Wrong question, clearly.
“I apologize. It’s not my place to ask.”
“No, I’m sorry… I just… she won’t talk to me anymore.”
The thigh muscle softened back up and Bella continued up to her hips, carefully covered with a towel. From over the fabric, Bella worked her fingers into the glute muscles and carefully ventured forward.
“You were a large part of her life when she was younger?”
“I was her best friend,” the woman confessed, deflating at long last under Bella’s hands and with the weight of this sorrow now off of her chest and in the air.
“And you want that again?”
A silent nod.
“Does she know that all you want is to still be a part of her life?”
Silence, followed by a deep, reflective sigh.
“What if she doesn’t want me in her life anymore?”
A good question, but if they were as close asn Bella thought, as Samantha made it seem, then such a fear was unfounded.
“The parameters of her life have changed. As have the roles she needs the people in her life to play. I suspect she changed your role, but forgot to tell you about your new part. I predict that if you ask her what she needs from you to keep her safe, and confide that all you want is a part in her life, things will go smoothly.”
Silence, but Bella could already feel her client relaxing and releasing all of her strain. Bella smiled and worked the rest of the hour in silence.
Later that night, she received a text.
Thank you for your advice.
Bella smiled into her tea and knew, somehow, that they would be alright.
Word Count -- 767 Words
The sad ones were always her favorites. Not because they were sad, heavens no. But because, for an hour at least, Bella could make them feel a little better. And so that was why, when a new client walked into her parlor and projected her frazzled energy so far into the space that Bella could feel it in the kitchen, she put on her softest smile and channeled every bit of healing energy she could into her hands.
She was tense through the interview, where Bella asked about health concerns, focus areas, and preferences. The women answered in clipped, short words and didn’t look Bella in the eye. Still, Bella remained patient and spoke softly, smiling when the woman happened to look up. She was tense when Bella led her to the massage room, casting nervous glances around at the walls and the floor. Even when Bella returned for the massage itself, the woman lay face down on the table, her shoulders up around her ears and her arms tight at her sides.
Bella would have to work hard to help this woman, she realized.
“Alright, Samantha,” she softly greeted as a way to announce that she had arrived back in the room. “Are you ready to get started?”
A stiff nod. Bella smiled despite herself.
“Your hands are so warm,” the woman sighed when Bella began working on her shoulders. Bella hummed an affirmative and informed her about the warming oil she used on all of her clients.
“Smells nice.”
“Lavender, tea tree, and rose oils. To help you relax.”
“Does aromatherapy really work?”
“I’ve seen it do wonders.”
The woman made a noise that did not sound entirely like belief, but didn’t speak anymore. Bella worked in silence for a while then, listening to the gentle sounds of the water machine in the room, the soothing music she played, and the increasingly long, slow breaths her client was taking. She worked with gentle hands to coax knots out of her neck, her shoulders, and her back.
Bella had just begun work on her legs when the woman spoke.
“My daughter and I keep fighting,” she offered without warning. Not uncommon for Bella’s clients.
“May I inquire as to what?” Bella was careful to keep any emotion out of her voice, continuing instead to focus her attention on the tight calf muscles in her hands.
“You name it,” her client laughed without mirth. “It’s like she turned 14 and branded me public enemy number one. And we used to be so close…”
“14 is a delicate age for everyone,” Bella agreed gently.
“Whatever I tell her to do, she does the opposite. I’m not even sure if it’s because she wants to do the things that she does, or if she just wants to spite me.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Of course,” the woman hissed, her thigh muscle tightening up in Bella’s hands. Wrong question, clearly.
“I apologize. It’s not my place to ask.”
“No, I’m sorry… I just… she won’t talk to me anymore.”
The thigh muscle softened back up and Bella continued up to her hips, carefully covered with a towel. From over the fabric, Bella worked her fingers into the glute muscles and carefully ventured forward.
“You were a large part of her life when she was younger?”
“I was her best friend,” the woman confessed, deflating at long last under Bella’s hands and with the weight of this sorrow now off of her chest and in the air.
“And you want that again?”
A silent nod.
“Does she know that all you want is to still be a part of her life?”
Silence, followed by a deep, reflective sigh.
“What if she doesn’t want me in her life anymore?”
A good question, but if they were as close asn Bella thought, as Samantha made it seem, then such a fear was unfounded.
“The parameters of her life have changed. As have the roles she needs the people in her life to play. I suspect she changed your role, but forgot to tell you about your new part. I predict that if you ask her what she needs from you to keep her safe, and confide that all you want is a part in her life, things will go smoothly.”
Silence, but Bella could already feel her client relaxing and releasing all of her strain. Bella smiled and worked the rest of the hour in silence.
Later that night, she received a text.
Thank you for your advice.
Bella smiled into her tea and knew, somehow, that they would be alright.
