Back To Us

by Roman, Teresa

  I stopped for bagels and coffee on my way to Justin’s feeling pretty good about my plan until I saw the doorman standing in the lobby of his building. If he announced my visit, it wouldn’t be the surprise I wanted it to be. Luckily, sneaking past the doorman turned out to be no big deal, and I was able to get onto the elevator without him noticing. As the elevator zoomed to the top floor my heart pounded in my chest with the anticipation of seeing Justin, and his smile, and the way it made his eyes sparkle. For weeks I’d been trying to talk myself out of whatever feelings for him I knew I had, but every day that got harder and harder to do. The past week at work had sucked without him there, and made me realize I wanted him in my life.

  I rang Justin’s doorbell and waited for him to answer, but no one came to the door. The piece of paper with his address on it that he’d given me just before the Fourth of July was crumpled in my pocket. I reached for it to make sure I was at the right apartment. I rang again and wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts as I waited for him to open the door. My heart sank as I realized that he probably wasn’t home. Maybe he wasn’t sick at all. Maybe there was another reason he hadn’t been to work.

  I rang the doorbell one last time and finally heard someone.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot your keys again.” It was Justin’s voice, I was sure of it. “You’re always forgetting those damn things, you know how hard it is for me in this stupid thing.”

  The door swung open and on the other side of it sat Justin. In a wheelchair. Instead of the sexy legs he’d bragged about before were two stumps. He was an amputee, a double amputee. That explained a lot of things. Like why he always wore pants and why he’d been limping. It was the injury that ended his military career, not PTSD like he claimed. Or maybe it was that, too, because if I’d lost both my legs in combat I was sure I’d be pretty messed up in the head.

  It was too late to erase the shocked look from my face. Justin had already seen it. Before I could think of the right words, actually any words to say, Justin slammed the door shut.

  “Go away,” he said from behind the closed door.

  “Justin. C’mon, please just open the door.”

  “I said go away.”

  I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I had to find a way to make things better, a way to let him know that his injury didn’t matter to me. He didn’t need to be embarrassed. I wasn’t sure what to do. It dawned on me that if Justin locked the door I was pretty sure I would have heard a click. I reached for the knob, twisted it and opened the door. Justin sat in his wheelchair a few feet away with his hands covering his face.

  “Justin. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He dropped his hands from his face and looked at me with a mortified expression on his face. “Tell you what? That I have no legs. It’s not exactly something I like to talk about.”

  “I. . .I thought we were friends.” It sounded lame, but it was the only thing I could think of to say.

  “Yeah, sure, friends,” he muttered. “Maybe you think I didn’t notice the look on your face after I opened the door, but I did.”

  “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  “And now you feel sorry for me, right?” he said, his voice mournful. “What are you even doing here?”

  I held up the white paper bag and coffee. “I brought you breakfast. I thought you were sick, and I. . .I figured I’d surprise you, cheer you up.”

  Justin turned his head. “I’m not feeling very well right now, Jesse. Can you please just go?”

  I didn’t want to. What I wanted to do was put my hand on Justin’s shoulder and tell him that legs or not I still thought he was one of the most handsome, sweetest guys I’d ever met. Instead I stood in the doorway willing myself to say or do something, but I was frozen.

  “Jesse, please. I really want to be alone right now.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled it so quietly I wasn’t sure Justin heard me, then I backed away from the door. Justin couldn’t bring himself to look at me and eventually I turned and began to walk down the hallway. I heard his door close behind me and then I ran for the elevator and out of Justin’s building without looking back. I threw the bagels and coffee in the trash before running towards the train station. I had to be at work in less than half an hour. How the hell I was going to get through the day? I thought about just going back home and calling Mrs. Connor to tell her I couldn’t make it in, but I needed the money, and the distraction.

  After arriving at the community center, I gave a wobbly wave to Don and went into the bathroom to wash my face. Did anyone else at work knew about Justin? They had to. Why was it okay for Mrs. Connor and probably even Don to know about his legs, but not me?

  Somehow I muddled my way through a morning and afternoon of tutoring. At the end of the day, as I was on my way out, I saw Mrs. Connor sitting in her office. I knocked on her door.

  “Come in.” I entered hesitantly. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I just wanted to ask you something. . .about Justin.”

  She pointed to a chair in front of her desk and I took a seat. “What about him?”

  I was afraid to ask her about his legs on the off chance that she didn’t actually know, but that didn’t seem possible. Justin said he’d volunteered at the community center for a year before he got hired. I doubted he could keep that kind of thing secret for so long.

  “What happened to his legs?” I blurted the question out.

  Mrs. Connor sighed and sat back in her chair. “I didn’t realize he told you. It’s not something he likes to share with most people.”

  “Is that the reason why he’s missed work for over a week?”

  “I told you already that it’s not my place to talk about his medical problems.”

  “I know, but I promise the only reason I’m asking is because I want to help him.”

  “How do you even know he wants your help?” she asked, brusquely. It was a question I had no answer for. Maybe Mrs. Connor was right. “You know, I’ve noticed the two of you together. He seems to care about you a lot, Jessica, but you have to realize that some people have a hard time accepting help from others.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “How did you find out anyway?” she asked. Mrs. Connor’s face remained expressionless as I told her the whole story. When I was done she said, “My advice to you is to wait until Justin is ready to talk to you.”

  I didn’t like Mrs. Connor’s advice, but I decided to follow it anyway. Mostly because I wasn’t really sure what else to do. The temptation to call or text Justin was overwhelming, but somehow I managed to ignore it.

  Justin didn’t show up for the rest of the week. By the weekend I was feeling bluer than I had in a very long time. Feelings of guilt and anger and a sense of rejection churned inside me creating an ugly stew of self-pity. Justin’s silent treatment was unbearable. I wondered if he’d ever come back to work, and if he did would he ever talk to me again or would he do his best to avoid me? I hated not knowing where I stood with him, and I hated it even more that it was all my fault.

  Even my brother, who most of the time seemed completely oblivious, noticed my bleak mood. “What’s with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said as I stared at a plate of scrambled eggs I’d made, but couldn’t eat.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Have I ever told you how good you are for my ego?”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” my brother called out. Mel walked in and my brother handed her a coffee. She gave him a kiss and I couldn’t help but grumble.

  “What’s with you?” she asked.

  “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “What did you do?” Mel asked my brother.

  He looked at her like he was clueless. “I did nothing.”

  “I’m just feeling sorry for myself,” I confessed. Not like it wasn’t obvious.

  “Why? What happened?” Mel asked.

  I told h
er the whole stupid story. How I’d been attracted to Justin since we first met, and how I’d gotten to know him and then thought he was really nice too, and even though I swore I wasn’t interested in dating, I thought I’d show up at his place to surprise him and maybe, just maybe, he’d get a clue and see I was interested and ask me out.

  “Oh, God. Don’t tell me some girl answered the door.”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s worse than that, way worse.”

  “What can be worse than the guy you like already being taken?”

  “Oh, there are worse things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like finding out someone is a double amputee when they didn’t want you to know.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mel said, holding up her hands. “Back up a minute here.”

  “He was in the Navy. He told me he got injured, but he looked fine. I figured he just had PTSD.”

  “So this whole time you never knew about his legs?”

  “He wears pants all the time. How was I supposed to know?”

  “That’s just crazy,” Mel said, shaking her head.

  “He was so mad at me. He could barely even look at me. I invaded his privacy, and he probably hates me now.”

  “He doesn’t hate you,” my brother said.

  “And how would you know that?”

  “’Cause I’m a guy, and I know the way guys think. He’s embarrassed. Losing your legs is a big deal. He probably would’ve told you eventually, but now he can’t, because you found out on your own. You’ve got to see things from his perspective. If he asks you out, and you say no he’ll be crushed and think it’s ’cause of his legs; but if he asks you out and you say yes, he’ll think it’s ’cause you feel sorry for him.”

  “Oh, great. Well, what am I supposed to do then?”

  “That I can’t help you with.”

  Melanie punched my brother in his shoulder. “Way to go, Mr. Sensitive.”

  “Hey, I’m just keeping it real.”

  I lowered my head onto the table and threw my arms over my head. “How is it that stuff like this always happens to me?”

  “Good question, J.” I felt my brother’s hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. “I don’t know when, and I don’t how, but I have a feeling this thing is going to work itself out. I really do.”

  Chapter 7

  Justin was finally back at work on Monday. As I passed by the gymnasium I heard his voice. I wasn’t sure it was him at first, but then he spoke again and I knew. The first thing I felt was joy, but as the day wore on I became more and more upset as I realized he hadn’t bothered to look for me and say hello like he always did. By the time lunch rolled around my blood was boiling. I felt like an idiot and knew the minute I saw Justin I was going to give him a piece of my mind, and the minute I started to do that I wouldn’t be able to hold back my tears because that’s what happened to me when I got real mad. I cried. And crying made me look weak and stupid, and I was angry at Justin all over again for making me feel that way.

  I ate my lunch, or at least I tried to, in the break room. Justin was clearly trying to avoid me because he didn’t step foot in the break room the entire time I was in there, and I almost always bumped into him during lunch. I decided to look for him and found him in his office. He didn’t say anything as I stood in the doorway, he didn’t even ask me to come in.

  “Are you ever going to talk to me again?” My heart pounded in my chest. Legs or no legs Justin made me feel things I didn’t want to feel and the fact that he wanted nothing to do with me stung. My ego felt like it was tumbling down a flight of stairs collecting bruises and broken bones as it went.

  “It was those field trips, all that walking,” Justin finally said. His hand was tucked under his chin and he had a blank look on his face. “I went on them because I like talking to you, I like being around you, but all that walking. . .” He shook his head.

  “What? What about it?”

  “Everyone thinks it’s not a big deal,” he muttered. “You lose your legs then you just get a new pair and the next day you’re running a marathon faster than you ever did before. But it’s not like that. It takes a long time to learn how to walk on prosthetics, and it’s not always comfortable.” Justin sighed. “I got a skin infection on one of my legs, or at least what’s left of it. I couldn’t wear the prosthetic again until it healed and then they needed to make some adjustments to it.”

  “I’m so sorry. If I knew. . .”

  “If you knew what? That my legs were blown off? You would have insisted I stay here like Mrs. Connor wanted me to instead of walking around the city like a normal person gets to do. And I hate not being normal. I hate that everyone feels sorry for me. I wanted you to see me as whole for as long as I could pull it off.”

  “Justin.” He still hadn’t invited me in to his office, but I took the seat in front of his desk anyway. “I still see you as whole.”

  He looked at me like I was the biggest liar in the world. “I shouldn’t have been so mean that day. I’m sorry. I’d really like it if you could forgive me, and I’d like to still be friends.”

  There was that word. Friends. I figured after that day at his apartment that any possible chance I’d had with him was gone, but it hurt to hear him confirm it.

  “Yeah.” I choked back the lump in my throat. “Friends.” I stood up and turned around stumbling on the chair that I’d just gotten up from. I braced myself and managed not to fall flat on my face and embarrass myself further.

  Justin said something else to me, but I was too upset to hear the words. I rushed out of his office, down the hall and past Don as I ran outside to get some air. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. A few seconds later I felt someone’s hand touching my arm. Justin. I opened my eyes hoping to see him, but instead it was Don. He must have noticed me running outside looking upset.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” My voice cracked. A dead giveaway that everything was not okay, but Don didn’t ask me any more questions. My lunch break was almost over and I needed to pull myself together.

  The next morning as I walked by Mrs. Connor’s office she called my name. I stepped into her office to see what she wanted.

  “Hey, Mrs. Connor.”

  She pointed to the chair in front of her desk. “Take a seat,” she said, then got up to close the door to her office. I knew what she was going to tell me, ever since I’d found out about Justin’s legs I’d been a mess at work, distracted and moody. Maybe someone had complained.

  I waited for her to talk. “I know there’s something going on with you and Justin,” Mrs. Connor finally said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s not himself, you’re not yourself, and Don told me that he saw you running out of here yesterday looking like you were about to cry.”

  “Don needs to mind his own business,” I muttered and rolled my eyes.

  “Normally I’d agree with you. And normally I wouldn’t get myself involved in the personal affairs of my employees, but Justin is. . .he’s special to me, and I can tell you’re special to him, which, in a roundabout way, makes you special to me, too.”

  Gee thanks. “Things between me and Justin are sorta complicated, and I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted. . .”

  “I’m not really worried about that. You’ve been great with the students this summer. They all really love you. You’re on time, you’ve never missed a day. I have no problem with your performance.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” I asked, confused.

  “The problem is that I’m watching two people I care about hurting because they’re putting obstacles in their path that don’t need to be there.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I may be a lot older than you and Justin, but I can still recognize two young people who really like each other.”

  That was not what I expected Mrs. Connor to say. For a moment I was going to deny it, and insist that Justin and I were jus
t friends. “He doesn’t like me, at least not like the way you think he does. He told me himself he just wants to be friends.”

  “He’s very self-conscious about his injury, Jesse.”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  “The way I see things there’s only one option.”

  “What?”

  “You’re sure you really do like him and that you’re not just feeling sorry for him?” she asked as if she were looking for confirmation that that wasn’t the case.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then there’s nothing left for you to do but fight for him.”

  Chapter 8

  Fight for him.

  Mrs. Connor’s words rang through my mind the whole morning. I didn’t know how to fight for other people. I’d spent so many years fighting for myself that I didn’t think I had it in me to fight for anyone else. What if I lost? I didn’t think I could stand it if I did.

  After I ran through all the reasons why I couldn’t put myself out there for Justin, my mind turned to all the reasons I could. He was worth it, I was sure of it. Maybe he didn’t have the same feelings for me that I had for him, but somehow I had to find a way to reach him. A way to chase away the sadness I saw in his eyes and heard in his voice, the same sadness I lived with, even if it was for different reasons.

  During my lunch break I found Justin in his office. I didn’t wait for an invitation. Instead I walked right up to his desk.

  “I thought of a way you could make things up to me for slamming the door in my face.”

  “Excuse me?” Justin sat up straight in his chair and looked at me with an expression of surprise on his face. That was good. Maybe I’d get him to agree to what I wanted before he could think of an excuse to say no.