Chapter 7: The Girlfriend vs. the Partner

TARA AND JENNIFER came over to spend Christmas Day with us and stayed with us through Tara’s twentieth birthday on the twenty-seventh. I went crazy trying to figure out what to give her for Christmas/birthay and Sunday, Christmas Eve, after our workout, Mikey took me to Southdale to shop for something special. We’d only been dating for just over a month, so I knew that items of clothing and jewelry were out of the question. As were things that were really expensive. I set a fifty-dollar max on what I should buy her.

I knew what kind of cell phone she had and considered getting a cool protective case for it, but Mikey said those were as personal and intimate as jewelry and clothing. Sheesh! Then we passed one of those kiosks that aren’t in any store, but stand alone out in the mall. It had some really beautiful candles. They’d been hand-dipped and shaped out of multiple layers of wax and one was shaped almost like an abstract couple embracing with one lifted up. I knew that as soon as it was lit, the illusion would go away, but I liked it. Mikey approved.

I knew Jennifer liked to read, so Mikey helped me pick out a new release. I certainly wouldn’t have just walked into a bookstore and picked up The Fairytale Life of Dorothy Gale on my own. But Mikey assured me that this takeoff on the main character from The Wizard of Oz was a sure winner. I bought it.

I learned a few lessons about what I could do with a girlfriend over the holiday. Tara and Jennifer stayed with us for three days and we all headed for the gym together on Thursday. In the meantime, we played games, watched movies, cooked, and went through old family photographs. Tara couldn’t believe how scrawny I was before I started my gymnastics training.

When we got to the gym, Jennifer told me to change clothes and meet her at the therapy room. I figured I’d be helping massage Tara’s legs again. Jennifer had more in store.

“We’re going to progress slowly and you’ll work on Tara’s back today,” Jennifer said. “Eventually, after the two of you become comfortable with it, I want to teach you to do full body sports massage. I’ve talked to Coach Dawson, and he agreed that the gym could use a massage therapist. And you need a job.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to work while I’m keeping up with school, cheer, and our routines. Plus, Madison and Coach Daniels. If they have anything to do with me after the vacation.”

“Oh, they’ll be waiting for you, I’m sure,” Jennifer said. “She’s not the kind that lets people just walk away from her.” We went into the therapy room and I saw Tara stretched out on her stomach on a massage table with a sheet over her. “Now, we’ll start with extremities to get you used to touching Tara without getting lost in the sensations.”

I was already lost in the sensations. Jennifer pulled a corner of the sheet back and exposed Tara’s shoulder and arm. Bare shoulder. Tara wasn’t wearing anything under the sheet. It took me a minute to keep from hyperventilating as I let that soak in.

“Tara’s arms do the normal work of a gymnast’s arms, which you know is a heavy workload in itself. But they also do at least half the work of her legs. I’m sure you’ve noticed how strong she is,” Jennifer said. I nodded. “So, it makes sense to pay special attention to her arms and shoulders in a massage. Here’s where you’ll start.”

She began showing me how the muscles connected and where tension was likely to build up. I followed the instructions and before too long, I was able to concentrate on the muscles and tension, and not so much on who all that skin was connected to. I could hardly believe Tara was willing to let me touch her like this, but as long as I kept the principles of therapy and care in mind, everything was okay.

When we’d finished working on her arms and shoulders, Jennifer pulled the sheet down farther so we could work on Tara’s upper back. Man, was Tara strong! I had a reasonable understanding of my own strength. My back, shoulders, and arms were built to support my body on bars and rings, to vault, and to propel myself in floor exercises. I routinely held Tara above my head, and before Christmas had held Madison on one hand above my head as she did a needle stand—that’s vertical splits.

I could certainly understand why Tara needed this kind of massage work with the extra work she put on her upper body.

We moved to her lower back and I was a little relieved to encounter the top of a pair of panties. She wasn’t completely naked and that made me relax more. Of course, when we moved to her legs and butt, I discovered how minimal those panties were. I did close my eyes for a moment as I was massaging her gluteus maximus. Then I was able to let the feeling go as I moved down her legs and massaged her feet.

I was released from the massage room to go warm up for our routine and get a workout in before Tara joined me, while Jennifer turned Tara over to massage her chest and abs, and down the fronts of her legs.

We got a good workout in and made some progress on our routine. Jennifer wanted us to get to the point at which Tara could actually lift her legs to a vertical handstand. She could support them okay, but balancing them was the problem. She wore lightweight knee braces that helped to hold her legs straight.

The biggest difference between Tara’s routine and that of Madison was that Tara couldn’t jump to get started on a lift. As a result, she had to press herself up using just her arm and torso strength, like I did on the rings. Once you were on the rings, you couldn’t swing. Everything had to be a controlled movement.

I had to support Tara’s weight steadily in my hands, but it was Tara who had to lift her weight over her head. We were working on her coming straight up with her feet above her head. We worked the exercise repeatedly as Jennifer moved around us, spotting and helping as needed. She gave advice and encouragement. We finally reached the point where Tara was straight up on my hands with my hands at shoulder height.

Then the unthinkable happened. Her left arm started shaking and before Jennifer could move, she collapsed on that side, dropping toward the floor head first.

Dad sometimes told a story about Mikey when she was a toddler falling backwards down the stairs. Dad, who was across the hall from her at the time, managed to get under Mikey on the stairs before she hit. He considered it to be a gap in time that allowed him to move through space faster than gravity was drawing Mikey. He couldn’t explain it any other way.

I understood now. There was no time to think about what I should do. Part of my training for the past seven years had been to enhance my reflexes, but I don’t think that affected the faster than life move I made to get myself under Tara and hold her to my chest as I fell to the mat and she landed on top of me.

The wind was knocked out of me, but I managed to scramble around and gasp, “Are you okay?” as Jennifer quickly checked us both over.

“I’m ... I’m fine!” Tara said. “I’m not hurt! You didn’t let me fall! Paul! You protected me. Are you okay?”

“Just a little out of breath. Oh, Tara. Thank God you weren’t hurt.”

I gathered her into my arms and kissed her like my life depended on it. At that moment, I thought it possibly did. She was safe.

“Uh ... I appreciate the enthusiasm, but that isn’t really appropriate in the gym,” Jennifer said. I thought there was a little shakiness in her voice. It had all happened so fast that we were all in shock. “Now, can you tell me what we learned from that.”

“To always stay under my partner, no matter what,” I said.

“Um ... Not to try to scratch my nose while I’m in a handstand,” Tara breathed. The draining of adrenaline from our systems finally left us in giggles.

“I think you also learned there’s a limit to the number of times you can try a move in a row,” Jennifer said. “I think we’ve reached the limit for this practice. Locker room, Tara. I want to check to see if you’re bruised. Paul, use the mirrors and let me know if you spot any significant bruises. You didn’t hit your head. We should be okay.”

Tara and Jennifer were treated like family and stayed New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day with us. Jennifer brought her boyfriend, Bob, with her. He was a nice guy, around fifty or so, I guess—my parents’ age. Of course, so was Jennifer. Mom and Dad weren’t going to object to her having her boyfriend with her and we had plenty of room.

We aren’t usually big partiers—except Mikey. She was off to a New Year’s Eve party and not expected to come home before the next day. So, the six of us—Mom, Dad, Jennifer, Bob, Tara, and me—had a pretty laid-back New Year’s Eve. It ended up being the oldsters upstairs, playing cards at the dining table, while Tara and I watched a movie in the entertainment room downstairs.

Around eleven, Jennifer had me bring Tara upstairs so she could get ready for bed, but then I took her back to the basement to count down to midnight. Everybody else gave up and went to bed. Yeah, real party people. Neither Tara nor I was eager to leave and go to bed. I had an arm around her and she leaned against me, holding my hand in hers.

At midnight, we kissed. And then we didn’t really stop kissing.

We’d been working together for almost three months and dating for a month, but we hadn’t really spent more than a few minutes at a time making out. We did things on our dates. We went out to eat or went to a movie or went to a concert. We spent a little time in the car kissing, but even over Christmas, we hadn’t just stayed in the entertainment room making out.

Tara was in her pajamas. There is something really different about holding a girl dressed in jeans and a shirt with a winter coat on and holding a girl who was in just her pajamas ... with nothing underneath them. I mean, I’d been massaging Tara’s bare skin all week. Saturday, Jennifer showed me a draping technique that kept Tara’s modesty while I worked on the front of her legs.

But holding her and kissing her and running my hands up and down her back and side was a new and exciting experience. I think it was true of both of us. She was so soft and squeezable I was lost in the sensations.

“I can definitely feel you squeezing there,” Tara whispered.

“Oh, my God!” I breathed, trying to snatch my hand back away from her breast. “I’m sorry!”

“Kiss me more,” she said, holding my hand to her breast. I did.