"I mean, if you want to try it, I could show you, maybe tell you about the massages my mom does to help when his arthritis is really painful."
The attention he gave me then was a little unsettling and I didn't know what to make of it. There was a smile, though it was a little forced and a fire lit in his eyes, the means of which I couldn't quite make out. As habit, I slouched a little and rested my elbow on my bag while Isaac kept on watching me. Suddenly the bag slipped from the table, and I nodded a thanks to Isaac when he grabbed it for me, our fingers touching for a second before he handed it over.
Every move I made was a weak attempt to distract myself from how closely he watched me, how I must have seemed like the oddest person in the world to him. He'd only been away from Georgia and all the realities of that life for a year. I'd overheard Lenny pleading for Isaac with Mr. Welis, the cleaning crew manager. He'd fussed at Isaac being late, something Isaac swore had happened because he'd gotten the bus schedule wrong. Lenny promised their boss that Isaac was still adjusting, still trying to figure out where he fit in here in D.C. or if he fit in at all. Mr. Welis was a nice man and hadn't been too irritated by Isaac's tardiness. He'd even been the one to ask if I could help Isaac with his application despite how loudly Isaac had complained. It had taken a solid month for Isaac to return the "good afternoon" or "have a nice night" greetings I sent his way. It had taken another month for him to give me direct answers when I asked them, trying to start up our first real conversation had provoked a response under his breath containing an insult I was sure he didn't mean for me to hear.
"Damn woman could talk the devil right out of hell."
"Well, that's true, I guess, but I wouldn't want him following after me." That little unexpected come back had actually made Isaac smile and gave me my first full glimpse at the way his face would light up and how his odd eyes sparkled when he wasn't sullen and ignoring the world around him.
"You think that would help me?" he asked me now, wiggling his hands to remind me of the offer I'd made. "That is, you don't think it would be a waste of time?"
"Not at all." I twisted around in my chair, abandoning the task of packing away my things to face him. Our knees almost touched and I pushed down the hem of my skirt more closely to my knees before I held out my hands. "Extend your fingers, as far as they can go, just like this." I stretched my fingers until the ligaments felt tight, then balled them into little fists that whitened the tips of my knuckles.
Isaac made an effort, covering a wince with a half-smile when he tried mimicking my stretching movement. Then that half-attempted smile disappeared and two of Isaac's fingers locked up, making him curse low under his breath.
"You okay?" I didn't wait for him to answer. I didn't do much thinking at all. I only reacted as how my parents had taught me. You see someone in pain, anyone at all, and you do your best to help them.
Isaac froze, body utterly still when I grabbed his hand. His fingers did not relax, neither did any other part of him as I held his hand between my fingers rubbing out the joints and knuckles, focusing on the movement of my fingers as I kneaded his brown skin with the pads of my thumbs. He didn't try pulling away from me, but he also didn't seem too eager to relax under my touch, something that caught my attention when I turned over his hand, working the massage on his palm. A long, deep exhale went from him then, gently moving the hair along my forehead. It was only then that I looked up from my work, coming to myself with a small shock at what I was doing.
"Miss Riley … " he finally said, glance moving over my face like he was trying to map my features, to gauge the slightest hint of warning or caution that might have surfaced. But there was nothing there, I knew that, nothing but surprise at how forward I'd been, at how many assumptions I'd made without his permission.
I eased his hand down, laying it on the table before I swallowed and pulled away from him, unable to keep the shaking from my fingers or the tension from my belly. It was an awkward, strange moment, one that I'd never had with Isaac since I'd barged my way into his life with stupid smiles and dumb questions about the weather and what he used to clean the floors.
"Isaac … I'm so sorry. That was forward of me, and I don't usually … "
"I … I think maybe I liked it." His expression was a little amused, the corner of his mouth twitched and he lifted the massaged hand up, stretching the fingers and knuckles as though my brief touch had done some good at least. "Fact, I'm sure I did."