Chapter 1
"There's a drive to deep left field, Harris on his horse, way back... Oh, he's down on the warning track! It's off the wall, that'll go for a triple! And Harris is still down..."
The tears in my eyes were not so much for the considerable physical pain I was in, but more for the fear that it was all over. I had been sprinting back for a deep fly ball, and when I hit the warning track, my ankle gave way with a sickening sound, and I went down in a heap. I thought my career was over, before it really had begun. After college, I'd passed on a solid Engineering job to pursue my dreams of glory in the Major Leagues, and I was doing pretty well in Rookie ball in Everett, just 30 miles from my Mom's house. I was the best outfielder on the team, but I kept my ego in check because I was the only "College Boy" there. College grads usually went straight to Class-A.
"Well, son, you're in luck. You won't be needing surgery," the doctor said, peering at the X-ray. "But you'll be out six to eight weeks, depending on how hard you work at the physical therapy. I can give you a list of Physical Therapists we've worked with, or you're free to pick your own."
My Mom's a nurse, and she had her own recommendations. I ended up going with the daughter of someone she worked with. Mom took me over to Mrs. Salyer's house, where I not only met Susan, the Physical Therapist, but also Joy, another daughter. Joy was about my age, petite with dark hair and dark eyes. She was absolutely beautiful, tiny and delicate, without seeming fragile. It didn't take long to figure out she wasn't the sharpest member of the family, but her naivete was endearing and her gullibility a favorite target for her sister's wit.
Susan was a few years younger, blond haired and blue eyed, and had a larger, more muscular frame, including a rather impressive rack, if you're into that sort of thing. Although I thought she was attractive, I could sense she compared herself to her sister, and found herself wanting. It was funny to see them side by side, they looked so different. Susan was dressed in jeans and a football jersey, which she filled out quite nicely I might add, while Joy was dressed in designer clothes. Susan was very sharp witted, and not just compared to her sister. When Joy made some totally illogical comment, her sister rolled her eyes.
"Stan, please believe me - we're not blood related!" Susan smirked.
"What?"
"She's adopted," Joy said, "and whenever I say something dumb, she makes sure everybody knows it!"
Susan and I exchanged grins at her unintentional double meaning.
Both girls were very attractive, but I was initially drawn to Susan's big... brain. She could talk intelligently about anything, including baseball and science. But her Mom made sure I knew that Susan had a long-time boyfriend, whereas Joy was, at the moment, available. Now, I'm not too comfortable asking girls out, my mind always seems to desert me. But Mrs. Salyer's comments made it seem rude for me not to ask, and hard for Joy to turn me down, so I asked her to dinner. I guess I bungled it though, because I ended up taking both daughters.
It was actually kind of good that both of them came, it took the pressure off me. I felt kind of strange, proud to be seen with these two girls that I thought were attractive, yet aware that to others one was very beautiful, and the other... some euphemism for overweight. That's fine, but it bothered me that I cared a little bit what other people thought, seeing me with them. I didn't think much of it at the time, though, I was just having a good time.
Joy was very animated, pulling me out of my shell, and Susan was just hilarious. Despite the natural competition between them, it was clear that they loved each other very much.
Chapter 2
Initially I was seeing Susan a lot more than Joy, an hour every day for physical therapy. I was going out with Joy just on the weekends. Even then, half the time Joy invited Susan along. Susan quickly became a good friend, but things were moving pretty slowly with Joy. We were good friends too, but we were supposed to be dating, and the romantic part was going very slowly.
"So, how're things going with Joy?" Susan asked while manipulating my ankle.
"Oh, pretty good I guess. I really like her, and I think she likes me."
"Oh, she likes you all right..." I sensed an unspoken "but".
"What?"
"I don't know if I should say anything."
"Well, you've got to now!"
"Yeah, I guess. I just think you should know that there's an ex-boyfriend still lurking around."
"What do you mean, lurking?"
"Oh, she never sees him, what I mean is, he's still in her head, I think. She won't admit it, though."
"Maybe I can make her forget about him."
"Maybe. I just don't want you to get hurt. Either of you. You do seem to make her happy, though."
"What about you? Does what's-his-name make you happy?" What was that? It's like I was jealous or something. I hope it didn't sound like it felt.
"Yeah, or used to anyway. I don't see him much when school's in session."
"Are things good when you do see him?"
"The answer to that varies according to my mood."
"A woman's prerogative."
"Sometimes I think the relationship isn't as important to him as it is to me. Then other times I think maybe it's not that important to me, either."
"Gaaah! Be careful, there!"
"What, I wasn't even touching your ankle!"
"No, but when you move my leg like that, it kills my hip."
"Where?"
"Just the left one, like right on the socket."
Susan began pushing and probing, and soon it was clear that my shorts were getting in her way.
"Sorry, but you're gonna have to lose the shorts."
"Uhhh..."
"What's the matter? Most jock types can't wait to show me what they've got. Like I'd be impressed that they can get an erection with a total stranger."
"You're not a stranger, though. You're my girlfriend's sister."
"I'm your Physical Therapist. I'm sure you don't have anything I haven't seen before."
"But... It's a no-win deal for me. If I have an erection, I'm one of those 'Jock Types' you hate. And if I don't... I... well, I wouldn't want you to think you're not attractive, because you are."
"Yeah, right. Joy is the attractive one. I'm the fat one, remember?"
"Oh, don't do that. Of course you're attractive. I think you're beautiful!"
"And I think you're delusional. By any objective measure..."
"But that's just it, you can't measure it objectively. I think..." I think I'm getting myself in trouble here.
"Enough already, just can the chatter and strip, okay?"
