About Kismet

14

Thursday, March 14 2019

"Yeah, so the last thing is taking time to deliver because it was on backorder? I called them when I got the notification that it'll deliver on the 27th and that's what they said," Anna complained to Kismet, her voice slightly muffled through the speakers.

Kismet nodded absentmindedly, her attention focussed on the traffic ahead of her. As she cleared the intersection, she glanced at her phone which was held up by a technology that kept it in place.

Anna was on facetime with her, keeping her company as she drove back to work. Her mid-day appointment was cancelled because her patient had other complications with scheduling.

She had gone home then, now driving back in time for Matthew's appointment.

"I'm almost there Ann. I love you, don't worry about the package, my building's mail service is accomodating. I'll talk to you soon," Kismet said to her, stopping at a light only a minute away from the clinic.

Anna waved, "Love you back. You're going to love it! See you," with that, she ended the call.

Kismet parked her car, grabbing the tall cup of Booster Juice she had bought on the way. She made her way inside the building, leaving her jacket in the car so she would only have to endure the hassle of changing shoes.

She was changed and in the room minutes before Mathew wheeled in, Wesley close behind him.

The last few sessions she hadn't seen Wesley, as it was Nate mostly bringing Mathew back and forth for his appointments. One of the days Wesley had picked him up, but he had only been inside the clinic briefly. So, it had been almost two weeks since she last saw him.

Kismet smiled at Mathew, who lifted a hand in greeting, looking tired. Her smile wavered when he didn't verbally greet her, growing concerned.

She signalled for Wesley to meet her outside, "I'll be right back," she said to Mathew.

She walked out of the room, waiting to the side. A moment later, Wesley joined her, his hands safely tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants.

He was standing maybe two feet away from her, his face distressed.

Kismet crossed her arms across her chest, clearing her throat lightly. "Is he okay?"

Wesley sighed, shaking his head. "He tried an exercise you did with him the last session at home and it didn't work out too well. He's feeling weaker and doesn't eat as much either," he explained.

Kismet frowned, muttering, "Thanks for letting me know," as she headed back into the room.

"Are you two done talking about me? I'd like to get this over with," Mathew said as he heard their footsteps re-enter the room.

Kismet ignored him, simply walking past him and re-adjusting some equipment. Wesley, however, exhaled in annoyance, "It's for your own good," he stressed, like a worried parent.

Mathew just grunted, glancing in Kismet's direction. She finished setting up the last of the equipment, facing him with both hands on her hips. She looked at him pointedly, "We're going to continue where we left off on Tuesday."

He nodded, his agitation dissipating slightly.

—

"Fuck," Mathew swore, gritting his teeth.

Kismet stopped herself from reaching out to help him, wanting him to give it a try on his own. During the last few sessions, he had improved his balance and was able to stand on the treadmill-like surface with practised ease.