That was much better, Lisa thought, as Anthing turned, rather more than a little resigned, she noted. She was used to getting her own way, it was true, but in this case she really did have good intentions. She might not be the nicest person in her house to some of the younger girls, but she had real affection for most everyone else, and she liked being useful. After all, she was forever having to ask for help, the least she could do was give back the little skills she had.
Brows knitted in concentration, Lisa moved her hands to the base of Anthony's skull, carefully kneading, and applying just enough pressure, and slowly worked her thumbs along his neck, tracing his spine and radiating out along his pressure points, as her grandmother had shown her so long ago. She moved her hands slowly but deliberately; she did like tasks that were tactile, and she smiled as she worked. "All right?" she asked.