Chapter 134

Liz and I were already in her office when Dayton popped his head in to let us know that Clayton Boudreau, the last person we were interviewing to take over my rehab, had arrived.

“Right on time, ” Liz said.

The man we’d interviewed earlier in the week had shown up 20 minutes early (and seemed put out when he had to wait because I was on a call). The woman had arrived 10 minutes late (and seemed put out that we’d mentioned that punctuality was important to us).

But this guy had seemed to understand that nine o’clock meant nine o’clock. I was impressed that he had chosen to dress like this was an interview for a professional position. Again, he compared favorably to the two we’d met earlier – both of whom had arrived looking as though they had to be at the gym in 26 minutes.

Clayton wore a light gray suit that seemed to fit his Creole coloring. He shook hands with Liz and then with me. He didn’t try to crush my fingers and he didn’t treat me like an invalid (or a nonentity since Liz was in the room).

“Thank you for scheduling this on a weekend, ” he said.

“Saturdays are always available as workdays for us, ” I said.

“Having this today has actually helped, ” Liz said, gesturing for the man to sit down. “Things have been a little crazy up here this week.”

“Oh?” the man asked.

“Music business stuff, ” I said.

“I don’t really follow it, ” Clayton admitted. “I … I listen to music, of course. But the day-to-day operation is a bit like Trigonometry. I’m glad somebody else understands it because I most certainly do not.”

“Exactly, ” I said. “I tend to focus on what I know and leave the rest of it to smarter minds.”

I used my thumb to gesture to Liz.

She gave me an eye roll and a head shake. I was on a roll.

“Dr. Montanez sent a glowing recommendation for you, ” she said.

“I’ve done a lot of work with his clients in the past, ” Clayton said. “Most recently, I’ve been working with a player from the WNBA. That commitment ended yesterday.”

“So you wouldn’t be required to give notice or find another therapist for a client?” I asked.

“No, ” Clayton said. “I have had a few other inquiries but …”

He closed his mouth and looked sheepishly at Liz.

“We believe in speaking honestly even if it is something we might not want to hear, ” Liz said.

It was a partial lie. We did believe that but it didn’t keep us from getting pissed off when it happened.

“I am tired of dealing with the egos of professional athletes, ” he said.

I bit the inside of my lip to keep from commenting.

“How about the egos of … what was it they called you, Travis?” Liz asked with a raised eyebrow. “Oh yeah, a washed-up professional baseball player. That was it.”

“Or a puffed up pop star princess?” I added.

Clayton looked from me to Liz before smiling.

“I’d done a fair amount of research on each of you before I sent a resume, ” he said. “I … I’ve seen clips of you together and separately. I’m certain both of you are proud and you both have a right to be proud. But I didn’t get the impression that either of you take yourself too seriously. I’m glad. Although, I did wonder if I’d walked into the middle of a personal argument.”

“There is a lot more yelling in our personal arguments, ” Liz said.

“And the occasional throwing of objects, ” I mentioned.

“Once!” Liz said. “And that wasn’t because of you. I swear, you’d think I’d clubbed a baby seal instead of throwing a beer bottle.”

Clayton laughed again.

“My job is to make physical fitness and rehabilitation fun, ” he said. “I try to do that by interjecting humor … a few pratfalls … even some practical jokes into the mixture. I won’t put liniment in your Jockey shorts or trick you into trying to lift 400 pounds but I’m not afraid to poke fun at myself … or at my client – if the client can take it. I’ve found that most have no sense of humor.

“Healing an injury can be something besides work. Staying in good shape doesn’t have to be a chore. At least that is my opinion. But … I want to be clear that I do not shirk my responsibilities. I just don’t see why exercise can’t include learning to walk on your hands.”

“Count me out on that one, ” I said with an exaggerated cringe.

“I’m sorry, ” Clayton said. “Perhaps I’m not as funny as I sometimes think I am.”

Liz nodded and gestured to me with a thumb.

“He can tell you all about that one, ” she said.

“Still, I should have thought that comment through a little better, ” he admitted.

“It’s fine, ” I said. “It’s one of those things. If I didn’t laugh about it I’d probably cry. I’m interested in your qualifications.”

“I am a licensed physical therapist with a specialization in athletic orthopedic injuries, ” he said. “That means I tend to focus on arm and leg injuries that stem from … activities that caused yours.”

“But you also do general fitness?” Liz asked.

“Yes, ” Clayton said. “There is no federal licensing agency for physical trainers. That is handled mostly on the local level. But I am certified in a variety of disciplines. I don’t focus exclusively on strength training or cardio training. I’ve done high-impact training with activities such as step and jogging; I’ve done low-impact things such as yoga and even line dancing.”

“Line dancing?” Liz asked.

“My background is varied, I’ll admit, ” Clayton said with a hint of chagrin. “I worked my way through college by working in a fitness center. They had multiple activities and employees had to be versed in each area. I even have a background in the martial arts.”

“Not judo?” I asked.

“Um, no, ” Clayton said. “Tai chi.”

“Thank God, ” I said.

“We had a member of my staff that was a national champion in judo, ” Liz said. “She didn’t work out and we had to let her go.”

“Tai chi is not a contact sport like judo, ” Clayton explained. “It is more about relaxation and balance than … breaking boards with your hand.”

“Have you reached instructor rank?” I asked.

“Yes, ” Clayton said. “I can give you the number to the national organization that maintains records if you’d like.”

“I’d like to learn that, ” Liz said.

“I can help you arrange instruction even if you don’t hire me, ” Clayton offered.

“Thank you, ” Liz said.

She glanced at me.

“We’re … we’re a pretty close group out here, ” I said. “We pick on each other but we also look after each other.”

“As your shoulder attests, ” Clayton said.

“Well, yeah, ” I said. “Liz is the only drill sergeant we need.”

“Hey!” Liz interjected. “I’m not that bad.”

“I don’t think he meant it as an insult, ” Clayton said. “The drill sergeant is the top of the organizational chart. He sets the goals and expectations of the group. He gives the orders.”

“That is exactly how I meant it, ” I said. “We aren’t bringing in somebody to take over Liz’s organization. We’re bringing in somebody to make sure that the four of us that got hurt can heal as well as possible and to help the rest of the staff keep the level of fitness they wish to keep. None of that will require yelling or insults. Now, sure, if we start to slack off, we expect to be called on it. But you’re not going to just be working with me and Liz. You’re going to have three other people rehabbing various injuries.

“Two of them are decorated combat veterans that were injured in the military before coming to work for Liz – and getting injured during the attack a few months back. The other is a former lineman for the Tennessee Titans football team. These men are the integral cogs to Liz’s security detail. They all understand dedication and commitment.”

“Anyone that couldn’t see that is a fool, ” Clayton said. “I told you that I don’t follow the music industry but I know what happened. I can assure you that I have the utmost respect for why you require my services right now.”

“That’s all we ask, ” Liz said.

“But, ” I interjected, “you will also be responsible for formulating a reasonable plan for maintaining the general fitness level for other members of Liz’s staff. It is a varied group. We have two other combat veterans that comprise the close-protection detail. Their workouts will be different from what Liz, her road manager and her personal assistant will need.”

“Of course, ” Clayton said.

“Am I forgetting anyone?” I asked.

“Just the rest of your entourage, ” Liz said with a wink. “At various times, we have several people that come out to use our workout facilities.”

“We should note that many of these people are recognizable, ” I said.

“They are, ” Liz agreed. “They may or may not ask for your assistance. If they do not work for me, you are under no obligation to offer it.”

“Although we would appreciate it if you were considerate when you turn them down, ” I added.

“Yes, ” Clayton said. “Of course. Is it impolite to ask who these people might be? Again, it comes back to my aversion to dealing with egos.”

“We’ll keep Melissa at home, ” I promised.

“Travis!” Liz said. “Kimberly Rose lives nearby. She is an actress and she is preparing for a role that requires physicality. It is also very likely that Conny Woodson and Melissa Shepherd will be periodic visitors.”

“The Girl Squad!” Clayton said with a laugh.

I bit back a laugh.

“I said I didn’t follow the industry, ” he said when Liz rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say I lived in a cave. I can’t foresee any issues. If something were to arise, I would certainly bring it to your attention. Ultimately, I would be your employee. If you want me to go down to Main Street and offer jumping jack lessons to strangers, that would be your prerogative. I think we all understand the situation. You want someone that understands that your job is not my job. You have other priorities and those priorities will sometimes interfere with your fitness regimen. I understand that.”

“The rehab takes priority over everything else, ” Liz cut in. “Everyone that you will interact with has alarms on his or her phone that lets us know when Travis, Dom, Brian and Ryan had to be elsewhere. And everybody understands that ignoring that alarm is not an option. You’ll find that we often will track them down to make sure they didn’t miss their alarm or get waylaid by somebody that won’t let them go.”

Clayton gestured in my direction with his head.

“You look out for each other, ” he said, repeating something I’d told him earlier.

“We do, ” Liz said.

“If I am hired, I will do the exact same thing, ” Clayton said. “Just sitting here this morning, I can see that the two of you are … nice. That’s not a word that I generally use to describe those I deal with. They might be athletic; they might be professional; they might be driven. Just from my visual examination of your general fitness, I can tell that you fit those bills, too. But there is more to you … a closeness that you offer to those around you and that you expect in return. I like that. It will certainly be a different situation than I’ve dealt with in the past. I am very interested in working here.”

As the man spoke, I glanced at Liz. She looked back at me and closed her eyes just a moment longer than usual. We had never developed a system of shorthand to let us communicate without words. We’d never needed to. It had developed on its own. She knew what I was thinking and she was offering her silent agreement.

“Before we move forward, do you have any questions for us?” I asked.

“The questions I have are perhaps more … personal … than you’d like to get into right now, ” Clayton said.

I caught Liz shifting in her seat.

“As in?” I asked.

“They revolve around your medical situation, ” Clayton clarified. I assumed he had caught Liz’s uncomfortable movement.

“I think that is relevant to any decision that needs to be made, ” I told him. The other applicants hadn’t asked, perhaps thinking it was confidential or perhaps thinking it wasn’t important to what they planned to do.

“I will try to keep things general and I will not be the least bit offended if you tell me that you’d prefer to wait until you make your decision before revealing the information to your therapist, ” Clayton prefaced.

“That sounds reasonable, ” Liz replied and I nodded in agreement.

“I would suppose that I have as much experience working with shoulder arthroplasty as anyone you will find, ” Clayton said. “Have you experienced a significant setback in your therapy? I ask only because most clients are out of their sling for long periods of time by this time in their recovery.”

“I have not had any setbacks in the rehabilitation process, ” I said.

One corner of Clayton’s mouth drew upward as he pondered my response.

“I see, ” he said. “That leads to my next question I suppose. Who has been handling your recovery thus far?”

“We contracted the services of Vanderbilt’s sports medicine department, ” I answered.

“A very good program, ” Clayton said.

“It is, ” I confirmed. “My exercise was developed by the program director, William Black, and implemented by Mr. Black and one of his student assistants after input from my physician.”