CHAPTER SIX

MARCUS

Despite another dreadful parking situation, a lightness fills me that I can’t recall experiencing before. I even found myself singing along to the radio on my way over. My mood is so good that when a few children point and stare at me, it rolls right off my back.

Plus, they’re kids. It’s natural for them to be curious. I would rather their parents simply explain about my wheelchair and why I might need it, then hiss at the children not to stare or slap at their hands. Nothing is going to change if they aren’t allowed to ask questions. It’s long been argued whether compassion and empathy are learned or innate.

Not having children myself, my experiences are mostly limited to my time with my nephew. He was so young when I had my accident, but he remembers I wasn’t always confined to a wheelchair. Dan’s a great kid, never shy with questions or offering to help me out. A lot of adults could learn from him.

That goes for me as well.

After our date, a myriad of emotions and questions plagued me. Even when Alice messaged me about lunch, I was torn. Delight and wariness warred within me. I was already quite invested in seeing where things could go with Alice. I wasn’t dreaming of white picket fences and happily ever afters. That’s not my nature.

But I was mulling over the opportunity to have a relationship with her. To learn more about her and how wonderful it would be to spend time with her.

Insecurities went hand in hand with those positive thoughts. The fear of rejection was a harsh reality for me and one I could be facing again. Was I prepared to get attached or possibly fall in love knowing that my heart could be utterly destroyed? I hadn’t had a true long-term relationship since that fateful night six years ago. Could I really go there again? Did I have it in me to be the man a woman like Alice deserved?

It took the sight of Dan’s gift still sitting on a chair in my office to make me realize that yes; I was ready. I was tired of being excluded or sitting on the sidelines while life went by. My nephew was turning ten, and I was rapidly approaching forty. Having a family of my own wasn’t completely out of my reach.

But only if I made the effort.

Things might not work out with Alice. And I would definitely be disappointed by that. I also couldn’t pin all my hopes and expectations on her, though. That wasn’t fair and was asking a lot.

Having a relationship with a person that was physically disabled wasn’t an easy thing. Even couples that were together before a life-altering event struggled with their new normal. Divorce rates shot up when one partner suddenly faced an epic health crisis.

And here I was asking a woman to take on me, problems and all.

What would she really be getting out of being saddled with my grumpy ass? I had to sell myself and put my best foot forward, so to speak.

A quick glance at my watch shows I’m running far behind schedule. Not a great way to impress her. Hopefully, the gift I brought will help smooth over any hurt feelings.

My arm muscles burn as I propel myself over the bumpy pavement of the walking trail. Thankfully, I spy Alice’s bright blonde hair up ahead and the sight of her waiting spurs me to go faster, my hands going through the now-familiar motions of the long smooth strokes along my handrims that get my chair flying.

I didn’t wear them on our date, but today I’m wearing my black leather wheelchair gloves. I really don’t feel like getting my hands dirty since we’re out in nature and eating lunch together.

Plus, I’m always worried about the strain on my hands, and these relieve that. If anything were to happen to my hands, I honestly don’t know what I would do. It’s one of those fears that sneaks up on me at odd times and I have to work hard to shove them to the back of my head, so they don’t leave me in a cold, anxious sweat.

Slowing to a stop next to her, she looks up and continues munching on an apple. My mouth goes dry watching her white teeth sink into the firm red apple. I watch a bit of clear juice drip down her plump lower lip and lick mine in response.

“Rude not to wait for me,” I say, pushing down on my brake levers and locking my wheels in place.

“Rude to be so late,” she snips back, taking another big bite of her apple and crunching it loudly.

I grin and reach over, smoothly transferring myself from my chair onto the bench beside her. Her eyes widen at my movement. I wanted to be closer to her without my wheelchair. Just something that makes me feel more like a regular guy out on a lunch date.

Reaching into the blue backpack strapped to the back of my chair, I pull out my lunch and peel off my gloves, placing them in the backpack. “Couldn’t find a parking spot,” I say, taking out my sandwich. “It’s the bane of my existence.”

She stops eating, her blue eyes fixed on me, and I smile and wink. “People ask me what’s the worst part of being disabled is and I tell them it’s the parking.”

“Really?”

“No! It’s a joke. A bad one,” I mutter. “Not being able to use my legs is obviously the worst part.” I hold up my hand and point the yellow banana in it at her. “But parking is up there too. You wouldn’t believe how many jackasses park in the handicap spots despite not needing them.”

“I’m sorry.”

My brows arch. “Do you do it?”

Alice jerks back and frowns. “No!”

“Then don’t be sorry. Stay being you.” I take a bite of my sandwich and wish I had put some spicy mustard on the ham, but on the off chance I got to kiss her, I didn’t want to my breath to turn her off.

She finishes up her apple and packs her trash back into her purple insulated lunch bag.

“This has to be one of the cheapest dates I’ve ever had.”

Her entire body trembles with her laughter and I could watch her smile and laugh all day if given the chance.

Shaking her head, her long blonde hair dances around her shoulders and she smiles. “You’re welcome.”

Praying I don’t have food in my teeth, I smile back and ask, “Do you work near here?”

“I do. I like coming here for lunch any chance I get. What about you?”

Before I can answer, she hurries on. “I don’t even know what you do.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a professional football player.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m a financial advisor.”

“Is your office around here?

I laugh. “My office is my house.”

“Is it far from here?”

Grinning, I peel my banana. “No, it’s not that far. Besides, I like to drive.”

“You drive?” she asks looking incredulous and then immediately blushes a bright red that would do a cherry proud.

My grin widens. “I do. Even after the accident, I couldn’t wait to get back to driving. I just wanted something to be normal again.”

Emotions flicker across her face as she nibbles on her lower lip.

“You can ask,” I prompt, expecting her to ask about the accident.

She surprises me, though.

“How do you drive? I thought-” Pausing, she gestures toward the wheelchair. “I assumed you couldn’t use your legs.”

“I can’t.” I thump my right leg. “I have extremely limited sensations. They’re sporadic and more annoying than useful.”

Taking a final bite of my banana, I drop the peel on my bag and hold up my hands. “Thankfully, my hands and fingers work just fine. I use hand controls in my car.”

Grinning, I stuff the peel and my sandwich baggie back in my lunch bag. “Lovely invention, hand controls. I think I cried the first time I used them.”

My mind flashes back to that day and my smile grows. “Good thing Jake the installer must be used to people blubbering because he didn’t even bat an eye. He patted my arm and told me to fire the engine up because he didn’t have all day.”

Alice’s lips part and a laugh bursts out.

And I chuckle along with her. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

I’m getting ready to tell her about my first misadventure driving when two women about Alice’s age stroll by and they practically trip over their own feet as their eyes bounce between Alice, me, and my wheelchair. One look at my stick legs barely filling out the material of my pants and it’s easy to tell who the chair belongs to. It’s just as easy to read the shock on their faces and I can practically hear their thoughts. What’s a woman like her doing with a guy in a wheelchair?

My grin slips and my good mood goes along with it. “Take a picture, it will last longer!” I yell out.

Looking like they’re late for a sale, the two women take off.

But I can’t escape the thought that they’re right. What is she doing with me?