Page 44 of Moms of Mayhem
Hey Emmy,
Hope you’re doing well. I heard you’ve got your studio up and running in Linwood—congrats!
Quick question: I got a call from an old contact about an athlete currently staying near you during his recovery, and the Denver Yeti would like someone to do daily PT progress checks while he’s there. Nothing too intensive—just eyes on mobility, pain management, and adherence to the plan they lay out for him.
Would you be interested in taking that on? They’re offering $1,750 a week, but I think you can ask for even more, and they’ll say yes. Seems like a desperate situation. This athlete is insisting he won’t go back to Denver until he can practice with the team, so you’d be looking at eight weeks, at least.
Let me know your thoughts, and I can send you the details.
Best,
Jordan Riviera, DPT
I brushed a hand over my face, reading the email again, then again. There was no doubt in my mind Jordan meant Beckett, unless some other Denver Yeti player was insisting on recovering in teeny, little Linwood, Colorado.
“Fourteen thousand dollars,” I whispered, and Shannonlifted her head to look at me with a quizzical look. I waved her off, then looked up at Stevie, still sleeping peacefully, and back at my computer.
My finger hovered over the reply button, unease eating me alive. Avoiding Beckett would be a lot harder if he wasn’t only coaching my son’s hockey team but also required to check in with me daily for his PT progress.
I hit the button, still not sure how I was planning to answer. Professional? Friendly? Emotionally dead inside? Because there was no version of this where I’d survive watching Beckett do slow, controlled hip work every morning while I pretended to take notes instead of experiencing a full-body spiritual crisis.
Labral tear rehab was basically just a 10-week thirst trap, and I was one deep breath away from prescribingice and celibacy.
Yeah. Totally fine. Definitely qualified for this. Very above it all. Probably.
Subject:RE: PT Check-Ins – Linwood Athlete
Hey Jordan,
Great to hear from you, and thanks!
See if they’ll up their price to $2,000 a week, and I’m in.
Sincerely,
Emmy Hudson Meyers
Elevation Pilates
My computer made a littlewhooshsound as my email was flung into the virtual ether, and a high-pitched delighted squeal sounded from the back of the room.
Stevie jerked upright like she’d been electrocuted, her hand over her chest. “Oh, my God. I fell asleep.I’m so sorry.”
I grinned, then put my computer to the side. “The way I see it, you just tapped into that deep breathing like I told you to. So, job well done.”
Stevie chuckled, then covered her face with both hands. “This is so embarrassing. We were supposed to be on a first friend date, and Ifell asleep.” Her hands dropped and her eyes went wide. “Shit, I just said we’re on a date out loud, didn’t I?”
I snorted and walked around her reformer to sit on the mat beside her, curling my legs under me like we were at a sixth-grade sleepover. “If it makes you feel better, that’s how I’ve been thinking of it in my head too. I even considered bringing matching friendship bracelets but figured I should play it cool.”
“That actually does make me feel better.” Stevie laughed, then looked toward the playpen, where her daughter and Shannon were having what could only be described as a tiny rave—butts were shaking, hands in the air, while knees bounced to a beat of a song about bananas.
“Don’t tell my husband, but this might be the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
I dropped my chin to my chest, trying not to grin like a lunatic. “Your secret’s safe with me. But fair warning—I’m the clingy type. You fall asleep on me once and I’m already giving us a couple’s name. Stemmy has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Or maybe Evie?”
Stevie’s hands shot up, her face lit up with excitement. “How about the Moms of Mayhem instead?”
A little gasp came out of my mouth, and I bounced on my knees. “Yes. That. Should we make shirts?”
