From Head to Toe 3. Moving Up.

We gathered up our supplies and headed to our separate rooms. The first day was pretty easy for myself and a little tough for Molly. Basically, the rundown is that one person would start from head and go to toe and the other person would go the opposite. From head to toe for one person and from toe to head for the other person. We randomly decided that my wife would go for head first and I would go for toe first. There was something terrifying about doing the head first and going downward.

Dr. Cooper was pleased and said that we made some splendid decisions. She gave us our week’s supplies in a nice FH2T Duffle Bags. Mine was cool and had some metallic sparkles to it. Molly’s was more subdued and didn’t have any flash or anything like that. She grabbed hers and I grabbed mine.

Dr. Cooper made a call and announced that we were ready. She instructed us to grab our items. Two staff members came to our door and we followed them down the well-lit hallway to a pair of rooms facing one another towards the end of the hall.

My girlfriend looked distraught as she faced the door and hesitated.

“Second thoughts?” I whispered with a little smirk.

“No way, asshole,” she said as she confidently walked into her room. I could see her removing her hair band from her ponytail and snapping it across her wrist and she shut the door. She tried to slam it, but it was a gentle close.

I headed into my own room. Inside a cooly lit room, there was a nice leather chair and a friendly looking Asian woman in her mid 30s who was rinsing out the basin with some soapy water. She had delicate features and on second glance, maybe she was of mixed race. She had beautiful porcelain skin and her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. She didn’t wear anything interesting except a blue polo shirt.

She glanced over at me and greeted me politely.

“Hello, James,” she said. “My name is Nancy.” I didn’t say anything and she turned around to look at me. I could see on her shirt that it had the logo of the Head to Toe company. She looked at me and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, sweetie, don’t look so worried! You look like a little lost fawn!” She came over and took my bags and dropped them to the floor and put both hands on my shoulders reassuringly.

There may have been some bags under my eyes and I had a good dose of stubble but I was confident that my face didn’t really look that worried. And if I were, I didn’t want to give it away. I narrowed my eyes.

“Look, if you think this sort of thing intimidates me, it doesn’t. I’ve spoken with my sister who is an attorney and we’ve read the paperwork and have done the research so I’m not scared. I just want to get this over with and get these amazing results.”

She looked skeptical as she dried off and finished her collecting and preparing her supplies, but she smiled at me like I was a baby.

“I’m not scared… I’m committed.”

“Of course you are, honey! That’s why everyone comes here. Now come on!” She dried off the basin and instructed me to sit down on the leather chair. I noticed the walls and they were pink and had no modern art on the wall… just a few framed pictures with flowers and a closet with a slatted door.

“I saw your wife in the hallway. She’s very beautiful.” She paused.
And a professor in art history!”

“She is not my wife. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Same thing, right?” she said not in a mocking tone, but almost like something a friend of mine would say to me.

“Well, yes and no.”

Nancy brought out a little satchel.

“Have you thought about colors?” she asked gently.

“Not really…I thought it’s Molly’s decision.

“It is. But she said that you could choose.”

“Really… REALLY,” I raised my eyebrows. I was dumbfounded. Was this how it was going to be?

“Yes, really. She said it was your choice.”

“Okay,” I said as I pondered what this could mean. This was fantastic! If I had choice about this, then this will be a breeze. This month will be over so fast.

“Okay,” I repeated excitedly as I settled down. “Wow.” Nancy rolled up my pant leg. On the request was to wear loose fitting trousers probably just for the ease of rolling them up. She motioned for me to raise my feet and once I did, she placed the basin beneath my feet and again motioned with a downward gesture to lower my feet in the bubbles. I could smell lavender. Or something floral. It reminded me of Mr. Bubble from when I was a kid. Fragrant but not too obtrusive.

“So why aren’t you guys married?”

I closed my eyes partly because it was relaxing having my feet in a feet bath. I had never done this before. She brought over a hot towel and placed it around my entire face and pressed down on my toweled forehead to lean back in my chair. Again, it felt professional and like I was in good hands.

Before I could answer. “There, doesn’t that feel better?”

My words were garbled since the towel was over my mouth and I knew my words would be obscured by the damp cloth that was thankfully cooling.

“Now, I’m going to offer you a nice glass of white wine. It relaxes a lot of people that come through here.” I could hear her walking across the floor and she stopped and something opened. I could hear her uncorking a bottle that was obviously already open. I was hoping it would be good. White wine while getting a relaxing feet bath sounds pretty awesome although I would have preferred a good double IPA instead.

She walked back and placed the glass down on the side table to my right. I started to raise my head, but I could feel her hand once again gently lead my head back down to the head rest on the leather chair.

“Not yet, let’s just relax while the bath softens your legs. You’ll love it.

I could hear a seat being moved right to my left. I heard her sit down and I could smell a sweet smell that wasn’t the bath or the Mr. Bubble. It was from her. It may have been her deodorant or perfume but wasn’t too bad. I didn’t know if I could talk, so I decided to remain silent until she removed the towel.

“Don’t answer this… but what do you think your girlfriend is over there doing? You think she’s having a nice makeover? No. She is fully, 100% committed.”

She stopped speaking and tapped her foot on the ground near mine. “She’s 100% committed to making this work.”

More tapping.

“And you… I would say you are 20% committed. I know which parts you are not committed to. I know it.”

Tap… tap… tap…

“I’ve seen dozens of dudes just like you, coming in here and expecting this to be a breeze while their partners are in it. These dudes get what they got coming to them… in a good way. You see, you may be an asshole. You may be a cheater. You may be a moron. You may be a racist. I have no idea. We just met.”

Tap… tap… and then it stopped.

“But people who come in here are different. They are willing to have faith that two people can work things out. To reconnect, to meet each other halfway, to have what we call…”

And she leaned in closely right against my left ear. I could feel one of a loose strand of her hair that passed by my ear.

“Empathy.”

She firmly took the towel and held it down around my face and then draped it off of my face while rubbing the skin of my nose. The cool air hit my face and it felt good. I touched my nose and it felt clean and refreshed. In fact, I felt clean and refreshed.

“You get me?” she asked.

“I get you,” I told her. I thought about what she had said and what my wife was going through right now and I thought about fairness and about sacrifice and commitment and about inner strength. My inner strength.

I looked down and I said, “Do you have anything in pink? PALE pink…”