Finding Liberty

by B. E. Baker

  Geo’s smart, funny and sophisticated, so I’m not sure why I reduced her friend to a caricature in my mind. I certainly didn’t expect him to school me on horticulture, and I had no idea he’d match me, barb for barb. His willingness to take criticism and accept it straight up floored me.

  Which is the reason why, when he asked me out, something went haywire in my brain.

  I haven’t been out with a guy since before the accident. Which means I haven’t been on a date in almost five years. Things may have changed some in that time, but one thing I know for sure must be the same. Hot Marines do not ask out paraplegic girls. Ever. I have no idea what he was thinking. How could he not know that? He must’ve asked me out from some kind of surge of pity. Or maybe curiosity. Or maybe he felt obligated, since I’m Trig’s sister.

  No matter his motivation, Mr. Graham couldn’t have asked me out because he wanted to kiss me. No one would find me irresistible, much less someone who looks like him, which means he couldn’t possibly want to date me for real. No one who takes that much care with their appearance and physical fitness wants to chain a bowling ball like me around their neck and hop into the middle of the Pacific Ocean that is my life now.

  I wheel outside to the front curb where my driver’s waiting and signal that I’m ready to go. He pulls into the handicap spot so I can transfer into the back of the sedan. It’s harder to transfer into the back seat, especially in a car I’m not used to. It’s annoying to shove all the parts of my wheelchair next to me in the seat too, but it’s not my first time doing it. When the driver runs around to try and help me, I flinch. He has no idea how to do any of it, and he’ll just slow me down while drawing attention to me.

  I don’t need his help, and I sure don’t want his pity.

  I don’t blame him for trying to be nice. No one knows how to react, after all. His mom surely taught him to be gallant and chivalrous and kind, and someone else in my circumstance might not wave him off. People usually mean well. They’re often dead wrong about what I want, but then again, I frequently don’t know what I want until the wrong thing is presented. For example, I’m currently sick to my stomach with myself for turning Rob’s invitation down. Which is insane and delusional and utterly ridiculous.

  Nevertheless, I totally wish I was going on a date with super foxy Robert Graham tonight.

  Tears well up behind my eyes and I blink them back rapidly. I clench my fists and look at my knees so that the driver won’t notice I’ve gotten all emotional. First I sobbed in a doctor’s office yesterday over my lost Olympic dreams, and today I’m about to bawl because some guy asked me out and I intelligently turned him down. What’s wrong with me lately? It’s not like any of this is new. I gave up on hot dates years ago.

  I want to call Trig or text Geo, but I can’t ask either of them about Rob. They don’t even know I’m in town. And I just lied and told their friend I was here for a meeting. He’s sure to mention something to them, which is when things will get weird, and I’ll look stupid. I need to at least do damage control on that before it comes back to bite me.

  “Don’t leave yet,” I say to the driver.

  I whip out my phone and call the main line for Franklin Graham Honda. “Rob Graham, please.”

  “Does he expect your call?” the receptionist asks.

  “No, but tell Stacey to tell him that the woman who just left his office is calling back. My name’s Brekka.”

  “Hold please.”

  Less than thirty seconds later, Rob answers. “Hey! Any chance you’re rethinking your complete shut down earlier?”

  I’m actually only calling to explain that my meeting was a secret and he shouldn’t mention it to Trig or Geo. But suddenly that seems like a conversation I should have in person. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? That’s the best noncommittal word I’ve ever heard. Are you still here? I’ll be right out.”

  So I can struggle with my wheelchair in front of him, transferring to and from his car? Absolutely not. If he asked me out because he’s curious about the girl whose legs don’t work, I won’t perform for him. I’m not a zoo exhibit.

  “We’re already on our way out.” I point at the driver, who pulls out of the parking spot and toward the exit, bless him. “Name the place and I’ll meet you there.”

  “We?” he asks. “Please tell me now if you came here with your hunky boyfriend.”

  I snort into the phone.

  “Did he take the phone from you? Or are you choking?”

  “Uh no,” I say. “I mean, there’s no boyfriend. We is me and my driver.”

  “Oh, that’s the second best news I’ve heard today. Now if I can just get that maybe upgraded to a yes…”

  I can’t suppress the smile that takes over my mouth. “Fine. Yes. Dinner can’t hurt, right?”

  “With the bar set that low, I feel reasonably confident I can stumble across it. What kind of food sounds good to you?”

  “I eat most everything,” I say. “As long as it doesn’t try to bite me back.”

  “Beautiful Brekka likes her steak well done,” he says slowly, like he’s writing it down. “Got it.”

  I giggle, which horrifies me. It’s like I’ve climbed into a movie reel for a ghastly, poorly written teen love story. I clear my throat. “How about Italian?”

  “I make better Italian than any restaurant in the area.” Rob’s voice is deep and rough and I imagine sitting across the table from him at his house, a candle between us, his bed in the next room. My stomach executes a strange flip and flop move that I don’t like at all.

  “Actually, I’ve been craving sushi lately.”

  “Doesn’t want to be lured to a strange man’s house on the first date. Got it. Well, Sushi-ology is my favorite raw fish place, and it’s on my end of town.”

  “Can you text me the address?” I ask.

  “If you’re brave enough to give me your cell phone number.” Rob’s voice drops even lower and my stomach somersaults again.

  I may need to see my doctor soon. Something is definitely wrong with my intestinal tract. “Duh.” I rattle off my number.

  “Perfect,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

  “Great,” I say. “But it’s only ten minutes until five. When did you want to meet me there?”

  “If you head that way now, so will I. I’ve got some plans later that you’re welcome to join me for, but an early dinner makes them easier.”

  Plans I can join him for? That sounds ominous.

  “You might actually enjoy coming along tonight. I’ll fill you in at dinner and you can decide.”

  He’ll explain at dinner. A dinner date with a hot Marine. “Semper Fi,” I say without thinking, like a complete idiot. I don’t even know what it means. Always true or something. “Uh sorry. That sort of just popped out.”

  Maybe I’m suffering from otherwise asymptomatic heat stroke. Atlanta’s much warmer than Denver, and it’s the only explanation for me accepting his invitation to dinner and then blurting out the Marine’s motto to him, with no explanation or segue. Please let it be heat stroke.

  I need a lemonade, stat.

  He chuckles. “I’m a former Marine. Did Geo tell you that, or did you notice the tattoo?”

  And now I can’t think of anything except where he might have a tattoo. I need to see it, although if he thinks I might already have seen it, it’s probably not somewhere especially interesting. “Geo mentioned it, yeah.”

  “Well, you can rest assured tonight’s plans aren’t anything dangerous. Totally not military business.”

  I need to end this call before I say something stupid about his hands. “Well, I’ll head that way as soon as I get your text.” My phone buzzes in my hand and I realize he’s talking to me from a landline. “Which I’m guessing you just sent.”

  “I did. I’ll see you soon, Brekka.”

  The way he says my name, carefully, purposefully, sends a shiver down my spine. Hanging up feels like self-preservation.

  I immedi
ately read his text.

  SO GLAD YOU RECONSIDERED. Then an address.

  I give the address to my driver and tell him to get there as quickly as possible. I need to arrive before Rob so I can already be waiting when he reaches the table. I wrack my brain on the way for reasons I might have to be here without telling Trig.

  Maybe I’m making this too hard. Why can’t I confess to Trig that I came to chew Rob out? Especially since it worked. Rob’s going to leave Geo alone. Oh, right, because I told Rob I was here for business. Think, brain. What could I need to do here?

  I text Trig. FLEW IN TO ATLANTA TODAY. FIGURED WE COULD GO OVER THE NUMBERS FOR STARFIRE, AND YOU CAN FINALLY SHOW OFF YOUR NEW HOUSE.

  Dots while he’s typing, and then, *$^%#*@ YOU’RE REALLY HERE?

  I’m a little offended by his shock. I haven’t declined his invitation that many times. YES.

  I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! LET’S GET DINNER. WHERE ARE YOU?

  Dangit. I MIGHT HAVE STOPPED OVER TO CHEW ROB OUT FIRST, AND NOW I’M STUCK EATING WITH HIM TO MAKE SURE HE’S NOT OFFENDED BY MY SAGE SISTERLY ADVICE. GOOD NEWS: HE AGREES WITH ME AND HE’S BACKING OFF.

  YOU DID WHAT???????

  Oh good grief. Sometimes Trig can be such a little girl. DID YOU READ THE PART WHERE IT WORKED?

  I ONLY WANTED TO COMPLAIN. YOU’RE SUCH A GUY SOMETIMES, SWOOPING IN TO FIX THINGS INSTEAD OF LISTENING. I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO FIX IT.

  Which I totally knew. MAYBE I NEEDED A WIN TODAY.

  ARE YOU OKAY?

  No. But I can’t tell Trig that. He’d worry about me instead of enjoying his new life with his beautiful fiancée. YES, I text instead, I’M FINE.

  AFTER DINNER WITH THE NEANDERTHAL, YOU’RE STAYING WITH ME. NOT IN A HOTEL. TEXT ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE.

  DEAL.

  When my driver pulls up in the parking lot across from Sushi-ology, I reassemble my wheelchair and transfer into it. The only wheelchair access to the restaurant is in front of a barre workout place. I’m glad I don’t need to make Rob follow me all the way to the ramp and then loop around past the nail salon just to get inside. This sushi place is small, but it looks fairly promising. Before I can open the door, a woman in black pants and a dark blue shirt opens it for me.

  “Welcome to Sushi-ology,” she says, her smile barely faltering when she takes in my wheelchair and the fact that I’m all alone.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’m meeting a friend. Could you show me to the table first, though?”

  “Of course,” she says. “There are only two of you?”

  I nod.

  “That’s good. We have a wait for more than two, but I’ve got a small table open right now.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Once she’s grabbed menus, I follow her to the back corner. Perfect. She shifts the chair out of the way and I roll into the space it previously occupied.

  Before the waitress has even handed me a menu, I notice Rob at the hostess stand. When he sees me, he beams and nods his head at her. He heads straight for me. My hands shake a little, so I grab my napkin to give them something to do.

  When he reaches the table, he holds up one hand as if to forestall some action. “Oh, don’t stand up, not for me. We’re past that kind of formality at this point, don’t you think?”

  My jaw drops. He’s making jokes about my inability to stand?

  He drops into his seat. “Too soon for me to tease you?”

  The twinkle in his eye does the trick and a belly laugh bubbles out of me. Not even Trig makes jokes about my incapacity. Somehow, poking fun at me for not standing makes me happy, not angry. He’s acting like it’s just part of who I am, like he doesn’t care. Like he doesn’t need to walk on eggshells just because he can walk. And somehow, his joke actually pushed our relationship past the awkward formality of a typical first date, because he felt comfortable teasing me about it.

  I slug him in the shoulder and he pretends to be injured. “Ouch. Give a guy a break. First dates are stressful enough, and you turned me down the first time I asked. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.” He leans closer to me, near enough that I can feel his minty breath on my face. “I promise to behave from here on out. In fact, I won’t even try to kiss you tonight. Scout’s honor.”

  Why does that disappoint me so badly? “Then why are you chewing gum?”

  He looks skyward. “You see right through me, but the polite thing is not to draw attention to it.”

  My grin is back. He’s flirting, with me, like he asked me out because he’s really interested, not out of some sense of pity or obligation.

  “What do you like here?” I ask.

  “Other than the company, you mean?”

  Heat rises in my face. “Okay, okay, enough flirting. Let’s order right away, because I’m starving. I might have skipped lunch in my haste earlier. Someone needed to be yelled at.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “I thought you came for a business meeting.”

  I bite my lip. “I might have made that up.” Why am I confessing to him? I had this covered!

  The glint in his eye has my stomach somersaulting again. Or maybe it’s doing that to keep from digesting itself.

  He grins. “So you did come out just to see me.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Did you miss the part where I said I came to yell at you?”

  “Right.” Rob reaches for the menu and his hand brushes mine. He doesn’t jerk away. If anything, his hand moves back even more slowly. “I’m glad you did. For future reference, you can yell at me whenever you feel the urge. I can take it.”

  “You’re bad,” I say. “And you can’t really mean that.”

  He shrugs his broad shoulders and I look down at my menu to keep from staring. What could he possibly be doing here, flirting with me? What’s his angle?

  “I have three sisters and a very vocal mother. You could say I’ve been prepped for criticism from stunning women my entire life. And to answer your question, normally, I think the more things a restaurant has on its menu, the less chance that any of it will be good. If, for instance, a restaurant serves tacos, pizza, and hamburgers, I’m going to turn around and head right back out the door. But somehow Sushi-ology serves ramen, sushi, and teriyaki, and they pull it off. I love the ramen here, and the crunchy yellowtail rolls are close-your-eyes-and-sigh amazing. The spicy tuna’s memorable, too.”

  Food. Right. I gulp and focus on my options. “Maybe we better try them all.”

  He lifts one eyebrow. “You look like someone who won’t be able to finish a single roll order.”

  I square my shoulders and meet his gaze. “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “What if it is?”

  “I’ll eat you under the table, mister.”

  “I very much doubt that.” He beams at me. “But I’d be extremely impressed.”

  I’m sure he’ll eat more than me, but as a very small person I’ve learned the importance of talking a big game. Even if you have to stuff a few pieces of sushi into the dirt of the potted plant next to you, people take you more seriously when you don’t back down from challenges.

  In the end, Rob orders a bowl of ramen, and we order five rolls to share.

  “So how did you end up finding this place?” I ask. “Geo mentioned you live in Marietta, near where she and Trig just bought a house.”

  “I do, which is only twenty minutes from here. But have you heard of Kennesaw Mountain?”

  I shake my head, an uneasy feeling settling across my shoulders.

  “There was a huge battle there during the Civil War. I’m not much of a history buff, but the trails are gorgeous, and the weather is usually really nice during the hot summer months. I found this place after spending most of the day hiking Kennesaw.”

  That’s what I was afraid of. Of course hot Rob, with his bulging muscles, loves hiking and outdoors activities. Which means I really would be an anvil around his neck, just as I suspected. “Cool.”

  “I’m sure you have much nicer mountains out in Colorado,�
� Rob says.

  “We do boast some huge piles of rocks.” Not that I ever climb any, not anymore. I glance down at my stupid flegs and grimace.

  “Tell me about your work,” Rob says. “What do you do?”

  I suck in a huge breath. I need to make the best of the hour I’ll be stuck on this ill-fated date. May as well talk about something I like. “Trig’s a numbers guy. He doesn’t need me for that. When he graduated, Mom wanted him to step into an apprenticeship with her so she could mold him into her perfect mini-me.”

  “I’ve heard she’s . . . intense.”

  I can’t help my laughter. “That’s a very diplomatic way to describe my mother. She’s a beast. An unstoppable business leviathan who consumes everyone and everything in her path.”

  “Possibly less diplomatic as descriptions go, but infinitely more intriguing.”

  I lift one eyebrow. “You like strong women?”

  “Exclusively.”

  I think about Geo, who I know he is, or maybe was, in love with. She’s strong, decisive, and competent, so that makes sense. “Well, you’d admire the heck out of my mom then. She steamrolls anything that impedes her progress. Trig had to strike out on his own in a big way, or he’d have been sucked into her orbit and never broken free. He called me. He could have asked for permission to invest trust funds, but Mom manages those.”

  Rob nods. “She’d be unlikely to release money to enable him to head out on his own.”

  “She’s not a monster, but she likes to guide us. She thought that Trig fumbling around on his own, in her words, was a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “You told him to try it anyway?”

  “I did. Trig has been a mathematical savant since birth, I think. He sees patterns you and I would never spot.”

  “But you two work together right? If he does the numbers, what do you do?”

  “Trig’s not as good at seeing how things connect when more than math is involved. That’s my strength, though we didn’t know it yet.”

  “So if you didn’t know it yet, that’s not why he called either.”