Just Love

by Prescott Lane

  “Wish me luck,” I tell her.

  She lifts her head at me but doesn’t bother to remove herself from her place on my sofa. Clearly, she’s not concerned about how today is going to go. The office isn’t that far, so I won’t be driving. I used to walk to work. Now I’ll just wheel there. So that part of my day is basically the same as before.

  It’s a beautiful, sunny day in Charleston. Thank God I don’t have to deal with any weather issues on my first day. Wheelchairs and the rain aren’t the best combination, and I refuse to wear one of those stupid ponchos made for people in wheelchairs. Yes, I am that vain. The sidewalk is crowded with tourists, but it doesn’t matter to me. When people see a wheelchair coming, it’s like the sea parting for Christ himself. I stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the walk sign.

  “Zoom, zoom,” a little voice says beside me.

  I look over at a toddler, holding his mother’s hand. “Shh!” she whispers to him.

  “Zoom, zoom,” he says even louder, pointing at me.

  His poor mother looks absolutely mortified. Unable to help myself, I bust out laughing. You’ve got to love kids. They are just as honest as animals. You know right away if they hate you or love you. And this little guy isn’t scared by my chair or looking at me like I’m any different from him. In fact, I think he’s jealous I’ve got wheels. I’d give him a ride, but his mom would probably freak out at a strange man offering to take her son for a lift, and rightfully so.

  “I’m so sorry,” his mom says, shaking her head. “Thank you for understanding.”

  The sign turns to walk, and I hold my hand up to the kid to give him a high five. “Zoom, zoom,” I say, as I wheel away, hearing him giggle behind me.

  I’m still grinning when I get to the office. Brenda’s at the front desk as usual, but there aren’t any more tarts waiting in the lobby. I guess they got word that Brody’s married, and I’ve no longer got use of my legs. I won’t miss them. Brenda greets me with a smile, giving me a brief rundown on the day’s schedule.

  I’m not sure how Brody kept this place going without me. Even when there were two of us, we were busy as hell. How he managed it solo, I’ll never know. But I suspect that’s a big reason why his relationship with Skye suffered the way it did. More than one relationship was hurt by my actions. I haven’t made much headway with Ainsley, but I know taking some of the burden at work will help Brody and Skye.

  Plus, it feels damn good to be in my scrubs again. When I was in the hospital, I hated seeing the nurses and doctors in their scrubs and lab coats. Jealous doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. But now I’m back. There were a lot of times I never thought I’d see this day.

  Brody did a good job renovating this place in such a short time. A few extra inches go a long way. I guess that’s true for doorways and dicks. I’ll have to remember that for when Ainsley is talking to me again. She always laughed at my sex humor.

  Grinning, I wheel into the office. My smile turns into a huge laugh when I see the welcome back gift waiting for me on my desk. Motherfucker left me a Wheelchair Barbie. She’s blonde with a purple and pink chair, and she’s poised right in the middle of my desk.

  “At least she’s not a blowup,” Brody says behind me.

  I laugh, but there’s a twisting in my gut. Brody still sees me as the same guy, the one who used to get a ton of women, never commit. It makes me happy he’s not treating me any differently, but I’m not that guy anymore. And it doesn’t have anything to do with my chair. Believe it or not, you can be a male whore without use of your legs.

  It has nothing to do with my accident. It has everything to do with his sister.

  Ainsley—not my accident—changed me forever and for good.

  “Welcome back,” he says, giving me a look then dropping a couple dozen files in front of me. “I saved you all the anal glands that need to be expressed, all the cysts that need to be popped, and every possible intestinal parasite.”

  “You couldn’t save me one new puppy case?” I ask. There’s absolutely nothing like seeing a little kid holding his new puppy.

  He laughs, then his face turns serious. “If you need anything, or if it feels like too much . . .”

  “Brody,” I say, appreciating his concern, but this isn’t us. We don’t get all emotional and sappy with each other, and there’s no reason to start now. “I’m good.”

  I grab the first patient file off my desk, and the day officially begins.

  “Killed the first day back at work,” I tell Sadie, attaching her leash to her collar. I’m sure she’s probably got to piss, but you wouldn’t know it by her demeanor. She barely even acknowledged that I’m home. A tilt of her head, a wag of her tail, but she stayed on the sofa. Lazy thing!

  I glance around my place. Ainsley’s always on my mind, how she was always waiting for me when I got off work. I want to share my good news with her, tell her about my day. And I want to hear about hers. My first impulse is always to pick up the phone to call her and tell her when something exciting happens. Even after all this time, I can’t shake that desire.

  I want her to be here when I get home, for us to walk Sadie together, have dinner, make love to her until we both fall asleep. Instead, it’s just Sadie and takeout. The life of a bachelor, I guess.

  “Come on, girl,” I say, shutting the door and pressing the elevator down button. Since she played hooky today, I have to go back out to walk her.

  The elevator stops one floor below mine. My heart immediately jumps in my chest, hoping Ainsley is the one waiting to go down. The doors open, but no one is there. Damn it! I guess I’m not that lucky.

  Sadie rests her head on my lap. Her eyes are still as bright as when she was a puppy. Stepping out of the elevator, my luck changes. I see Ainsley stepping inside the building. I only have a second before she spots me, just long enough for my heart to start to ache.

  Our eyes meet, but before I can say a word, Sadie starts barking like a fool. Ainsley might hate my guts, but she still loves my dog, coming over to give Sadie some love.

  “I miss you,” Ainsley says to Sadie, giving her a hearty scratch.

  There’s so much I need to say to her. I’m sorry. I love you. I want you back, but none of those words seem sufficient, and I doubt Ainsley wants to hear any of it.

  “Want to take a walk?” I ask before realizing how stupid that sounds, since I can’t walk. “I mean, would you like to walk Sadie with me?”

  She looks everywhere but at me. This is how she and I started in the first place, those innocent walks with Sadie that led to so much more, but her hesitation now is torture.

  “I’m trying to throw you a line here, Ainsley,” I say. “I hope you’ll take it.”

  “What about all the times I threw a line to you?” she asks, pressing the elevator button. “I’m sorry, Rhett, but I don’t want this. When I look at you, all I see is . . .”

  “The chair,” I say softly.

  “No,” she says. “All I see is the man that hurt me. You look at me and remember us falling in love, our friendship. I remember the pain, the pain of sitting and waiting for you, the pain of leaving my ring with your mother. All of it. If you came back to Charleston for me, it was a mistake. Your A. Rose isn’t here anymore.”

  “Then I’ll love the woman that is.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  AINSLEY

  He’ll “love” the woman that’s here? What the hell is that? He wouldn’t know love if you beat him over the head with it. A woman knows her limits, and I just hit mine.

  Picking up the phone, I dial my brother. Right when he answers, I say without hesitation, “I’m moving out of the condo.”

  “Why?” he asks, drawing out the word like he’s afraid of my answer.

  “It’s time,” I say. “Since you own it, I wanted to let you know. So you can decide if you want to sell it or rent it to someone. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”

  “That’s quick. Did something happen?”

  “No,”
I say with more force than I intended.

  “Where are you moving?”

  Crap, in my emotional breakdown, I forgot to plan that far ahead. “I’m not sure yet. I may just crash at my shop for a little while.”

  “Is that smart?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I’m just spit-balling here,” he says. “But you saw Rhett, didn’t you?”

  “I’m moving.”

  “Okay,” he says. “I’ll talk to Skye and decide what we want to do with it.”

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling like I’m starting to come down off some weird high, my hands trembling slightly, my skin clammy. There’s a long silence and with each passing second, I feel worse and worse.

  “I’m coming over,” he says.

  “No,” I say, my voice cracking.

  “You know, I never saw you break. That whole time in the hospital and after.”

  “You saw me cry plenty of times,” I say.

  “Cry, yes,” he says. “But never break.”

  “Well,” I say, sniffling. “Rhett finally broke me.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re going to defend him?”

  “All I’m saying is, it’s about time you lose it. You’re blaming him for it, but maybe it’s just time.”

  “Brody?”

  “Think about it,” he says. “Right when you know Rhett is better—almost to the second that you know he’s going to be okay—that’s when you finally get angry. You couldn’t let yourself do that before. You were too worried about him. It’s like you couldn’t be broken at the same time. So you just held yourself together, and as soon as he healed, you broke.”

  Some place deep inside me, I know there’s truth to what he’s saying. I had no idea my brother was this enlightened. God knows, he acts like a Neanderthal most of the time. When the truth smacks you in the face, it hurts. I can’t even argue with him. I can’t even get a word out. All I do is sit on the phone with him and cry.

  I’ve avoided this for a long time, afraid that if I allowed myself to truly feel all this shit, it would emotionally cripple me. Rhett is the one hurt. How could I give myself permission to break right along with him? I couldn’t. I didn’t.

  “Did I ever tell you what I said to Rhett that night on the rooftop before the accident?” Brody asks.

  “No,” I whimper.

  “I told him that I couldn’t imagine any man loving you more than he does.” He draws a deep breath. “I still think that’s true.”

  “He just told me he loved me,” I whisper.

  “Hence the sudden desire to move.”

  “I never know when I’m going to run into him, and it’s hard.”

  “He’s playing in his first wheelchair basketball game this weekend. You should come.”

  “I just said I don’t want to see him.”

  “No, you said it’s hard not knowing when you will see him. This way you’ll know. You’ll have some control.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Skye and I are going. Cliff and Diane, too,” he says. “It will be fun.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to see everyone.”

  “You can’t avoid Rhett forever. When you decided to date my best friend, you signed up for this,” he teases. “Think about coming.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “One more thing. Do I need to put the condo on the market?”

  “Not yet,” I say, hanging up.

  Brody wants me to go to the game. Rhett wants me to walk Sadie with him. My customer wants me to make a dress in less than two months. But what do I want? That’s what I need to think about. What do I want?

  Do I want to hate Rhett forever? Never see him again?

  I know I don’t want to feel like this forever. I know I want the hurt and anger to stop. I also know that there is nothing that Rhett or anyone else can say or do to make that happen. Rhett can say he’s sorry a million times, but apologies only work if you accept them, take them into your heart—that’s where the forgiveness happens.

  My heart may not be ready for that.

  I told Rhett that when I look at him, I just feel pain. I told him I’m not the same woman, but what I didn’t tell him is how much I still love him. I can’t help it. I’ve wished I could fall out of love with that man, but for some reason my heart refuses to let go. Through all the hurt, all the pain, the love remains. No matter how hard I fight it, the love remains. What I didn’t tell Rhett is that my love for him scares me more than anything else.

  So what do I want?

  The truth is, I don’t know what I want. But I know I have to find out.

  What the hell am I doing here? I don’t even like basketball. I don’t get it. I know there are positions, but to me, it looks like a bunch of chickens running around with their heads cut off. Baseball, I get. Football is in my wheelhouse, but the only sport more confusing to me than basketball is curling. You know, the one that’s basically shuffleboard but you also sweep the ice with a broom. And it’s an Olympic sport!

  Standing outside the gym, I hear balls dribbling, whistles being blown, the game about to start.

  Am I giving Rhett the wrong idea by being here? Does he even know Brody invited me? Blowing out a deep breath, I pull my hair up into a ponytail with my hands, trying to calm down. I know my brother is right, eventually Rhett and I will have to learn to co-exist. We have the same friends, he works with my brother, we live in the same building—interaction is inevitable.

  In a normal situation, I would never let a man treat me the way Rhett did and keep him in my life. But our situation isn’t normal.

  Peeking my head in, I see Brody, Skye, Cliff, and Diane in the stands. It’s not as if there are a ton of people here, so it’s not hard to spot them. And that means it isn’t hard for Diane to spot me lurking in the wings. Can’t really back out now. She gives me a little smile and waves me over. I step inside, doing my best not to look out onto the court. The team plays in a local recreation center gym, so it’s not a big place. Not a lot of places to hide.

  I make my way to the third row and join Rhett’s cheering section. It’s funny. I was his cheerleader when he didn’t want one, and here I am again. Does he want me here this time?

  Taking a seat in the bleachers between Skye and Diane, I get a few side hugs and pats on the back, like I’ve accomplished some great feat.

  “Rhett doesn’t even think he’ll get any playing time today,” Diane says. “Since he’s new.”

  I spot him huddled up on the sideline. His brown hair is all messy, the way I used to love it. He’s smiling. I remember all the days in the hospital when I would’ve given anything to see him smile again.

  “Is that a new chair?” I ask her.

  “Yes, it’s made especially for basketball. Certain seat height, straps for his legs, and those strange looking tilted wheels.”

  I nod along, noticing each feature of the chair as she mentions it, when a pair of pale blue eyes find mine. I can tell he’s surprised I’m here, but he flashes me a huge grin. I suddenly feel everyone staring at me, but I don’t look away from Rhett. How can one look from him still make me feel all tingly inside? One of his teammates, an older looking guy with a beard, glances my way then leans over, saying something to Rhett, smacking his shoulder. The team takes the court, and suddenly I feel like I’m on display.

  Skye pats my hand, whispering to me, “You’re here to support a friend. That’s all.”

  “I’m not sure I can . . .”

  “Look,” Cliff yells. “Rhett’s going out there. He’s playing. They have him at shooting guard!”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, but no one answers because a whistle blows.

  The players start vying for the ball, dribbling, passing, shooting—just like you see on TV, but there are wheelchairs. The rules and equipment for wheelchair basketball are pretty much the same as the regular sport. The guys dribble and push their ch
airs. The small crowd cheers, yells, and moans when something doesn’t go the way they want it to. The pace of the game is fast, much faster than I was expecting.

  My heart is the only thing faster right now, thundering in my chest. I feel like I’m the one on the court. Telling myself to take deep breaths, I can’t get it to slow down. This is beyond nerves about being in the same space as Rhett. This runs much deeper than that. A wave of heat rushes over my body, and my legs suddenly feel weak.

  Cliff, Diane, Skye, and Brody leap to their feet. “Three points!” Cliff yells, holding his hand up to Brody for a high five.

  Brody leaves him hanging when he sees I’m still seated. “Ainsley, did you see that? Rhett just scored.”

  I give him a thumbs up, but I’m not watching the game, my eyes glued on my feet. Maybe the cute sandals I have on will calm me down! They all sit down, and I sense everyone staring at me again.

  “Maybe she needs some air,” Skye says. “She’s very pale.”

  A loud clash of metal jars me, two players’ chairs clanging against each other.

  “I can’t be here,” I say, getting to my feet.

  Rushing down the stands, I hear a whistle blow, but I don’t turn back. I shouldn’t have come. I have to get out of here. Telling myself I’ll feel better when I get outside, I hurry to the door, pushing it open with such force that it slams against the wall.

  The night air hits me, but it’s not as refreshing as I was hoping. Twisting my hair, I hold it up off my neck, walking in a circle in the parking lot. Do women in their twenties have heart attacks? My whole chest is tight. Just breathe! Everything’s fine. Just breathe.

  “A. Rose.” Rhett’s voice stops me.

  I look over, seeing him in the doorway, his hairline wet with sweat. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the court?”

  “I saw you walk out,” he says. “You looked upset.”