Chapter 15
Monday night, Gideon flipped through the mail on his counter and paused when he saw the ivory envelope. His thick fingers fumbled with it as he opened it and studied the wedding invitation. He examined the fibers in the heavy paper and felt the writing embossed in black calligraphy. He ran his finger over the lettering as he thought about Tony’s sister’s wedding. His throat went dry, and he grabbed a pen to check “Unable to attend” on the response card. But he stopped in midair and grasped the pen until his knuckles whitened and ached. Weddings, romance, kissing…Lily. He hadn’t been able to think of anything but her kiss since the baseball game. The feel of her lip on his, the softness of her mouth, the scent of her skin. He threw the pen across the room and glared as it rolled under the couch.
His wheels made tread marks in the carpet as he rolled back and forth in agitation. But a wedding? He’d avoided them since his accident. Except Tony would never forgive him. He’d call him a coward, and he’d be right. He slammed his hand against his chair as he considered his options—go alone or ask Lily. He raked his fingers through his hair and made it stand up like spines on a sea urchin. Who was he kidding? He didn’t want to go to the wedding alone; he wanted to go with Lily. But should he ask her?
She’d say yes because of their bargain, but his heart still pounded. He didn’t want this to be part of the bargain. But would Lily be interested in a date? Because no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, a wedding was a date, one of the most romantic “dates” a person could have. And he couldn’t do much more than sit and talk with her. Would she be disappointed? But those kisses they’d shared…his pulse increased and his lips burned like she’d branded him. He hadn’t been able to get them out of his mind. He sighed.
What did he want from her and why did he keep beating himself up over this? He wheeled himself into the kitchen and thrust leftover pizza into the microwave. He jabbed the keypad before he continued his circuit around his apartment. If I had any guts, I’d ask her out on a real date. But no. Instead, I hide behind our arrangement and make her think she is fulfilling her part of the bargain. No longer hungry, and too wound up for anything else, he turned on the TV and flicked through the channels. As he wavered between a baseball game and a crime drama, his phone rang.
“Hello,” he grunted, his attention focused on the TV.
“Hi, Gideon, it’s Lily.” The lilt in her voice automatically cheered him.
“Hi.” He muted the TV and rubbed the nape of his neck as he fought to hide his surprise. He swallowed. He wouldn’t be able to postpone things much longer.
“What are you doing?”
“Watching TV.”
“Anything good?”
“Not really. I’m deciding between baseball or a crime show.”
“Oh, I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy. I used to love McDreamy.”
He snorted. “Loved him, huh? I’m kind of tempted by the game.”
“Who’s playing?”
“Yankees and the Mets.”
“What color are their uniforms?”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” He frowned at the phone and shook his head.
“Yup.” She giggled. “Gotcha!”
Gideon grunted and cradled the phone in his shoulder, his tension muted like the game on TV. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth and for the first time since he opened the envelope, he took a deep breath. No matter what was on his mind, she always cheered him up. She could find the humor in everything. It was one of the reasons he liked her so much. He took another deep breath and plunged in. “I wanted to ask you something. I’ve been invited to a wedding. Do you want to go?”
There was a slight hesitation and he shut his eyes. “Who’s getting married?”
“Tony’s sister.”
“I didn’t even know he had a sister. Of course I’ll go with you. Tony’s done so much for me and I love weddings! When is it?” She sounded excited. Was it for the event or for him?
He read the pertinent information and heard the scratch of a pen as Lily jotted it on her calendar. Tony hadn’t told her much about himself if Lily didn’t know about the wedding. His chest expanded.
“Are you sure Tony won’t mind if I come?”
“The invitation is addressed to me and a guest, and he’ll be thrilled to know it’s you.” He struggled to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“Great. Oh I’m excited about this. Weddings are fun—the music, the food, the atmosphere.”
Gideon winced and tried to remain calm as he listened to the excitement build in her voice. He should have followed his first instinct, refused the invitation and been done with it. There was no way he wouldn’t disappoint her. His stomach clenched and his throat tightened as he figured out how to get out of it. He cleared his throat. “Are you sure about this? I mean, it might not be much fun—a long-winded ceremony, lots of archaic traditions. Maybe it would be better if…”
When he paused, she added, “…we spend another stimulating night at home watching TV and talking on the phone?” She laughed. “Come on, good food, music, lots of people, it’ll be fun. And if it isn’t, we can leave. I’d love to go with you. Besides, it’s important to Tony, and he’s your good friend.”
Gideon sighed and stared at the ceiling. The walls were closing in on him, and he resisted the sudden urge to hold his hands out and prevent them from crushing him. He couldn’t get out of it. Even if he’d wanted to, she’d guilted him into it. “Okay, thank you.” After they hung up, he stared again at the invitation and shook his head.
****
Lily and Claire strode hand-in-hand into the gymnasium and then sat on the bleachers. Young male chatter echoed off the walls of the empty gymnasium and combined with the clack of Lily’s heels and the rubbery squeak of Claire’s sneakers. Fourteen boys on the basketball court, approximately eleven years old, surrounded Gideon. As the boys backed away, he took the ball, dribbled it halfway across the court, and passed it to one of the boys. The smack, smack, pat of the bouncing ball reverberated through the gym, and Claire’s wide eyes followed the ball in time to its beat.
“That’s Gideon’s special basketball chair, Mom. I saw it when I ate dinner at his apartment. It works better than his other chair,” Claire announced proudly. She pointed to him. He moved with an athletic grace different from his usual spare movements. With his center of gravity lower to the ground, he moved faster, spun quicker and handled the ball with a rhythm that made Lily forget about his chair.
“So is he their basketball teacher?” Claire’s question drew Lily’s attention away from Gideon and she swallowed.
“He’s the coach. He practices with these kids after school. They’re a team.”
“What’s the team going to do?” Her eyes were glued to Gideon as he scored and the boys cheered. The acrid odor of sweat drifted toward Lily and Claire. They crinkled their noses.
“They’ll play against other teams.”
The boys continued to practice. Although they were the only ones in the stands, no one noticed them. Fourteen pairs of eyes shifted from Gideon’s face to his hands and back again as he demonstrated a technique or joined in the scrimmage. His low tone instructed more effectively than any shouts could have; his large hands guided smaller ones as he corrected their position or posture; his smile encouraged them better than any bribe or reward. Lily leaned forward, captivated as much as Claire or the boys, and wished she were on the receiving end of his concentration. His focus on her, his hands roaming her body…she began to sweat and blinked away the fantasy.
Gideon saw them, and Lily swore the sun shone brighter into the gymnasium. Pleasure created parentheses on either side of his mouth and he waved. Lily could almost feel the heat and waved back.
“Can I go see them, Mommy?” Claire shot up and only Lily’s outstretched arm prevented her from rushing down the bleachers and onto the court.
“Wait until they finish, okay? We don’t want to disturb them.” Her fingers brushed
the soft cotton jersey fabric of Claire’s shirt as she rubbed her daughter’s back to ease the disappointment.
A sudden commotion on the court made Lily whip around and see one of the boys fall down. He screamed and held his leg. Gideon raced over, climbed out of his chair and examined him. Lily raced down the bleachers.
“Where’s it hurt, Michael?” he soothed.
“My leg. My leg hurts!” Gideon lifted the pant leg. A lump protruded from his shin. The other boys crowded around Michael and Gideon, their faces pale. In their silence, Michael’s screams echoed in the gym.
“What can I do?” Lily asked from behind Gideon. She reached down and touched his hot neck.
Gideon jumped and wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. “Do you have your cell phone with you?”
“Yes.”
“Call 911.” He focused his attention on Michael. “It’s okay Michael; everything is going to be fine, buddy. Guys, practice is over. Go into the study and get started on your homework. I’ll take Michael to the hospital, and leave a message here for you when you come in tomorrow to let you know what’s happening, okay?”
The boys filed out, their lack of talking emphasizing the gravity of the situation.
“I thought you don’t like hospitals?” Lily asked. She bit her lip as the question rolled off her tongue. Gideon stiffened more. Why did I bring it up?
“He can’t go by himself,” Gideon snapped.
She stroked his neck and willed him to relax. “Do you want me to go too?”
“No, go home and stay with Claire. I’ll take care of this.”
Tony led the EMTs into the gym. As they worked on Michael, he leaned over to Gideon. “You really want to go with him?” His slate-colored eyes pierced Gideon’s.
“No, but I don’t have any choice,” he said as he climbed into his chair and avoided Lily’s gaze. “I can’t abandon him.”
****
For the rest of the evening, Lily did her best to reassure Claire, but she got out of bed crying several times. Finally, at ten o’clock, Lily managed to get her to sleep. Just then, the doorbell rang. With a quick peek into Claire’s room to check she still slept, she rushed to the door and saw Gideon through the peephole. She opened the door. His mouth was pressed together, his body stiff, and lines of strain radiated from his eyes behind the glasses.
“How’s Michael?”
“He’s got a broken leg, but he’s going to be all right.” His voice was a monotone.
Her heart ached for Gideon and the stress he’d gone through, but she was relieved about the boy. “I’m glad. The poor kid seemed scared.”
“Yeah. He was in a lot of pain. Plus, he thought he’d hurt me somehow because I was on the floor with him.” Gideon shook his head and rubbed his leg.
Her laughter made him freeze. For a moment, he remained motionless then he joined in. “How’s Claire?”
“She was pretty upset, but I finally got her to bed. Do you want a drink or something?” She gazed at him, dying to ask if he was okay, but knowing somehow his pride would prevent his answering. She remained quiet. She gripped the door, her knuckles white as she backed up, but he shook his head. It was a slight movement; if she hadn’t been staring at him closely, she might have missed it. But the pain in his eyes remained and his slight hiss sounded like paper tearing. The sound tore at her heart and she swallowed as he answered.
“No thanks, I just wanted to fill you in and to thank you for coming over. I’m sorry Claire had to see that.”
“Me too. Maybe we can reschedule?” Anything to keep him here with her.
“Yeah.” Gideon shifted his gaze down the hall, winced and rubbed his leg again. He started to back away. “I’ve got to go.”
She couldn’t remain silent. Not with him in obvious distress. “Anything wrong?” Her gaze wandered from his face to his leg.
“What? Oh, just a cramp. Stress. It’s no big deal.” The more he spoke, the redder he turned. “Nothing a little sleep won’t cure.”
She wanted to make him stay. He needed her, and the urge to help him overwhelmed her. “Or a massage?”
“What?” Gideon squinted. He shook his head.
“A massage. I just happen to be the best masseuse there is.” She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest, as if she dared him to argue.
“Oh really?” Gideon leaned back. Exhaustion were etched on his forehead and Lily longed to brush them away.
“Really.”
“How come I’ve never heard of you?”
“Poor marketing skills, I guess. Come on, I’ll show you.” As Gideon chuckled, she strolled over to the couch. He followed her halfway to the other side of the room before braking hard.
“It’s not necessary, Lil.” His gaze darted from the couch to the front door as he started to perspire. His damp palms slipped as he rolled himself backward and he closed his eyes.
She gripped the arm of the couch and pressed on. “Wanna place a wager?”
“Wager?” He opened them and drew ragged breaths.
“Wager. Bet. Gamble. Stake.”
“Yeah I know what a wager is, thank you. I just don’t know why we would bet on this.” His gaze followed her as she continued her stroll around the room, her voice low but enticing.
“Because a) I’m sure I can win, and b) I figure I can finagle a real dinner out of you.” She smirked. She’d hooked him. She could tell by the set of his shoulders.
He shook his head and wheeled over. “Okay, loser takes the winner to dinner.”
They shook hands in mock seriousness and Lily stood for a minute, forefinger tapping the corner of her mouth as she stared at him.
“What?” He squirmed then struggled for breath as he continued to rub his leg.
“I think this will work better on the sofa. Why don’t you get comfortable? I’ll be right back.”
She went into the kitchen before he could refuse. She poured water into a pitcher and filled a glass with ice to allow Gideon enough time to prepare and compose himself. He couldn’t hide his emotions nearly as well as he thought he could. Lily saw both his pain and his self-consciousness. His “leave me alone” signals shot out from him like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. While she’d succeeded in getting him to let her in, she had to tread carefully now.
After a nerve-wracking three minutes where Lily stared at the clock, she returned with the pitcher and glass on a tray, and saw to her satisfaction that Gideon moved onto the sofa. But the new location wasn’t necessarily an improvement. Hostile silence practically slapped her in the face. He faced her, his jaw set, his expression mutinous as he flicked his gaze between her and the door. His shirt, damp from sweat, clung to him. His breathing was harsh and his legs twitched. While before, he’d appeared tired and self-conscious, now misery etched his features.
If he were anyone else, she would have taken him in her arms and held him, rubbed his shoulder and soothed him. However, that was about as wise as hugging a porcupine. He’d mistake her compassion for pity. One wrong move on her part and he’d be off the couch, into his chair and out the door before she could say, “Boo.” With his clenched jaw and pulsating tendon in his neck, he dared her to come near him. The coffee table offered a barrier, and his balled fist rested on his wheelchair, knuckles white. Getting the message loud and clear not to touch the chair, she decided on a different strategy. He’d never relax on his own. She approached him with a calm and detached manner, all traces of emotion hidden.
“Do you mind if I rearrange a few things first?” Without waiting for his reply, she chatted about unimportant things while she pulled the coffee table away from the sofa and sat next to him.
Gideon started to protest, and cleared his throat. The sofa cushions bounced and he leaned into her. Struggling to right himself, he took a deep breath and swallowed. “Okay.”
Lily could practically see his pugnacious vocal cords battle each other in an attempt to muffle him. The two syllables rasped from between his lips, and she fo
ught the urge to cringe. She brushed his knuckles gently as she reassured him with her touch. That one point of contact almost undid her and all of her efforts to remain unfazed by his plight. She bit her lip as she handed him a pillow, poured water into the glass and put the glass of water within his reach on the table. “There, much better.” Her words sounded false to her ears, but she couldn’t afford for him to any trace of pity in her tone.
“I’ve been doing this since I was three,” she said. “Also, you’re going to want to lay down.” When he braced himself, she leaned forward and pulled his legs onto her lap. As Gideon shot his arms out to adjust his position, Lily took advantage of the moment. Before he could protest, she untied his shoes and removed them, and she began to massage his feet and calves. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”
Gideon leaned on his elbows. “Since you were three?” His voice grated and he swallowed.
“Yup. My dad loved massages and every morning I’d come into my parents’ bedroom to give him one.” She moved her hands rhythmically along his legs as she kneaded the knots in his muscles.
“Lucky guy.” Steel melted into warm lava as Gideon began to relax under her magic hands.
“Not just him. I loved doing it. I even created a routine.”
“What kind of routine?” he asked, unable to hide his interest. He eased his head onto the pillow, unable to remain unaffected by her touch. As she moved her hands up and down his legs, Gideon watched her fingers and the tendons flex.
Lily chuckled at the memory. “I pretended his back was a pizza pie. I kneaded the dough, swished on the sauce, sprinkled the cheese and patted on the pepperoni. By the end of the massage, I had a pizza and my dad had very limber muscles.”
Gideon smiled.
“How’s this?” Lily asked when she was certain he was relaxed.
“Much better.”
“Good. Just relax, okay?” They sat without speaking as Lily massaged his legs and Gideon rested with his eyes closed. Soon, his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. Continuing his massage for another five minutes, Lily waited until he was fully asleep before she slipped out from under his legs. She put an afghan over him, removed his glasses, doused the light and went to bed.
A Heart of Little Faith Page 14