Once Shattered, Twice Shy

by Benjamin Dahlbeck

  “That would be fun. Especially this close to Halloween. When are they?”

  “I’d have to check the times online, but we could go Friday night.”

  “That sounds great. Thanks.”

  Joe said quietly, “My pleasure.”

  Deirdre, the doctor’s assistant, popped her head into the waiting room. “Okay, Wade, we’re ready for you.”

  Joe followed Wade through the doors. He felt jubilant but hoped he had not sounded too eager with the invitation.

  ON THE drive home they talked about what Dr. Douglass had said regarding how Wade’s elbow was healing and what the X-rays showed. The news was good, but it would be another month or two before Dr. Douglass would consider surgery. Wade admitted he was buoyed and dejected at the same time and fell quiet for the rest of the drive home.

  Joe wanted to stroke Wade’s cheek or make some gesture of comfort, but kept his hands on the steering wheel. When they arrived at Wade’s house, Joe clocked out and tried to sound casual as he said, “I’ll call you this week about Friday.”

  Wade smiled and said, “Okay.”

  Joe nodded and went out the kitchen door, thankful he did not kick it this time.

  PAT SAT at her desk watching Joe wander around the office, shuffling papers and going from cabinet to cabinet, sitting down at his desk, and jumping up almost immediately to fiddle with something on a shelf, sitting down at his desk again, and typing and clicking on his computer in an agitated manner before writing down some information and then jumping up to pour himself another cup of coffee, even though he had a full cup on his desk already.

  Finally she could not take it anymore and said, “What is going on with you?

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’ve been flitting around this office like a hummingbird on crack for the last half hour, and it’s driving me crazy. What’s going on?”

  “I asked Wade out on a date.”

  Pat’s jaw dropped. “Really? When?”

  “The other day when we were at the orthopedist’s office waiting for his appointment.”

  “Wow! What did he say?”

  “He said yes.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Yeah, great.” Joe’s voice trailed off.

  “Uh-oh,” Pat checked her enthusiasm as she saw Joe’s cheeks redden. “What is it?”

  Joe remained silent, sheepish, and suddenly very still.

  Pat scrutinized him for a full minute. “He doesn’t know it’s a date, does he?”

  Joe uttered a barely audible no.

  “Oh, Joe.”

  “Well, you’re the one who said to get to know him without any pressures.”

  “Yes, I said that.”

  “And you said I should remember I’m there to take care of him, regardless of my motives.”

  “Yes, I said that too.”

  “So, he’s been suffering from cabin fever, and I thought he’d enjoy going on one of the Roswell Ghost Tours because it would get him out and about without being in a crowded place.”

  “And allow you to spend time with him off the clock.”

  “Well, duh.”

  Pat observed Joe standing in the middle of the office looking more vulnerable and disconcerted than she had seen him in ages. Inwardly she was thrilled that Joe was excited about a guy, but she was aware this was delicate territory, both professionally and personally. She did not want Joe to rush too quickly and lose not only a potential relationship but also a long-term client.

  She took a deep breath and said, “Joe, I think it’s a very kind offer. You said most of his friends are out of state, so he doesn’t have anyone local to get him out of the house and out of his injury, so to speak. But remember he’s relying on us to help him precisely because he doesn’t have anyone else. Let him enjoy an evening out without any expectations on your part that he behave in a certain way. Enjoy his company, but let him enjoy getting away from his sick mother and his own ailments with a nice guy who’s simply being a nice guy. Does that make sense?”

  Joe silently looked at his friend. He was glad to have Pat to talk to. He was struck by the thought that Wade did not have anyone to talk to. On a long-distance phone call, perhaps, but that was not the same as having a friend close to hand. Maybe that was why Wade had opened up so much to Joe, and there was nothing more to it.

  “Yes, that makes sense,” he finally said. “Thanks. Can I ask him out to dinner beforehand?”

  “Sure.” Pat laughed. “But make it dutch treat.” She went back to the paperwork on her desk, then added, “And call him now. I can’t cope with you zooming around the office for the rest of the day.”

  Joe went and sat down, and he noticed for the first time that he had two cups of coffee on his desk. He took one cup, walked over to Pat’s desk, and set it down near her. She looked up with a grin that grew wider when he said, “Shut up,” walked back to his own desk, and sat down in his chair in an effort to look nonchalant.

  Joe picked up the phone and dialed Wade’s number without having to look it up first. He realized Pat noticed because she grinned at him again and shook her head. While the phone rang, he crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at her.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Wade? It’s Joe.”

  “Oh, hey, Joe.”

  “I checked the times of that ghost tour if you’re still interested.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Oh, good. They have a tour at seven thirty and one at nine o’clock. I thought nine o’clock would be better because we could go have some dinner first. And I promise there won’t be a magnet or ionizer in sight.”

  Wade laughed and said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “I can pick you up at six fifteen. That’ll give us two hours at the restaurant, so we’re not rushed eating. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Great, I’ll see you Friday night.”

  “See you then.”

  Joe hung up the phone, grinned at Pat, and said, “There you go. Done and done!”

  “Congratulations,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

  “Do I look like a hummingbird on crack now?”

  “More like the cat that ate the canary.”

  FRIDAY ARRIVED, and Wade wished he had something better to wear for a night out than his shirts with one sleeve and his gym pants. It was still difficult to get dressed with one arm, and anything that was easier was better, but he wanted to make an effort to look nice. He finally decided he would attempt to put on jeans. He had some difficulty with the zipper and the button, but after some wrangling, he had tucked in his shirt and gotten the jeans secure.

  Joe arrived at six fifteen and noticed immediately that Wade was wearing jeans and that he filled them nicely. He helped Wade put his coat on over his sling. Lorraine wished them a good time, and they got into Joe’s car. During the drive back to Roswell, Joe told Wade about the tour and the walking it would entail.

  “They recommend bringing a flashlight, so I brought a big one with me, so we can both see where we’re going. But you can hold on to me if you’re worried about your balance.” Joe hoped he sounded casual.

  “Thanks. I will,” said Wade.

  They arrived at the restaurant, parked, and went inside. Joe helped Wade get his coat off and readjust his sling before they sat down. Wade blushed. He was getting used to Joe helping him, but in a nonmedical setting, it made him self-conscious.

  The waitress came, gave them menus, and took their drink orders.

  “Have you ever eaten here before?” Joe asked.

  “No. I’ve passed here on the way to that new age store, though.” Wade looked around. The walls were covered with shiny black-lacquered panels that reflected the dim lighting, giving the illusion of gaslight chandeliers, while on every table stood a small candle in a simple amber-colored cut glass container to enhance the effect. “It’s very nice inside.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Joe looked pleased. “I
was worried you might find the décor too minimalist. They put their main focus on the food. You’ve got to have the yucca fries—they’re really good.”

  “Okay. Do you want to share?”

  “Sure.”

  They perused their menus quietly and placed their orders when the waitress returned with their drinks. Wade asked Joe about living in Roswell, and Joe told him he had moved there after a messy breakup four years ago.

  “What happened?” Wade asked.

  “Oh, you don’t want to hear about it,” Joe said.

  “Sure I do. You’ve listened to me talk enough on the way to appointments. I’d like to hear more about you.”

  So Joe told Wade about being with Arnold for two years and all the trials and tribulations of that relationship. They began to swap dating and relationship horror stories and were laughing a great deal by the time the food arrived. Wade talked about his years in Chicago and how much he loved that city and the cold weather. He had been the manager of one of the bigger bookstores in the area before the company went bankrupt. This happened shortly after his breakup with Vernon, and right when his mother got sick, so moving home seemed like the right choice.

  “I miss my friends and my life there terribly,” Wade said, “and this accident hasn’t helped. Although….” He stopped himself before he could say, “Although meeting you has been sensational.”

  “These yucca fries are really delicious,” he declared instead.

  Joe smiled, “I’m glad you like them.”

  “This is a good restaurant.”

  Joe studied Wade for a moment and said, “You look so much more rested. Are you adjusting to the Dilaudid?”

  Even in the dim light, Wade was sure Joe could see Wade’s cheeks redden. “Actually, no,” he said with embarrassment.

  “What, then? Is something wrong?”

  “No. It’s just that I told Maggie about my problem with the prescription drugs not working and having bad side effects and stuff, and she made me a batch of medical-grade pot brownies.”

  “I see,” said Joe in a serious tone, while simultaneously grinning.

  “I’ve never tried pot before because I don’t like to smoke. And because no one’s ever offered. But these brownies have worked wonders. I get the same amount of pain relief as I did with the Dilaudid, except that I actually sleep. And when I wake up the next morning, I don’t feel groggy or irritable. It’s helped so much.”

  “I’ve dealt with too many cancer patients not to know the benefits cannabis can give someone in pain.”

  “That goddamned Nancy Reagan,” said Wade with genuine annoyance. “I bought into that whole stupid message. When I think of how my entire adult life I could’ve been so much thinner and calmer…!” He let out an exasperated “Bah!”

  The two men looked at each other and laughed.

  “Did you have a brownie before I picked you up?” Joe asked.

  “No, I want to be totally alert when I’m with you,” said Wade before he could stop himself.

  They held each other’s gaze, and Joe was about to speak when the waitress came up to the table.

  “Would you guys like some dessert?”

  They declined, since it was time to head to the ghost tour. Wade stood to get his wallet out and handed the waitress a credit card. Joe made to protest, but Wade said, “I insist. I want to do something nice for you.”

  “Thank you,” Joe said.

  They walked out to Joe’s car and got in. Wade let Joe buckle him in even though he could now do it himself. They arrived at the square in a few minutes, parked, and walked to the gazebo where the tour met. There were sixteen other people there. The guide arrived and gave the group instructions on following and crossing streets, etcetera, and they headed out on their way.

  The night was crisp and clear—perfect October weather. The half moon provided lighting in open spaces, but once they were on streets without streetlamps, Wade was glad for Joe’s flashlight and his steady arm.

  The guide talked along the way, and everyone listened in silence. The group approached the first house, and a few people began to ask questions. As the guide talked, people spread out onto the porch and front lawn. Wade and Joe walked up to the porch and looked around at the grounds. When they moved to the back of the house, Wade held on to Joe’s arm with genuine worry, since there was a gravelly slope and some tree roots. He was more nervous about falling than he realized.

  Wade was relieved that Joe did not seem to mind having his arm held so tightly. In fact, he slowed his pace and held his flashlight directly on the ground in front of them so they could see where they were going. Keeping Wade from falling would be pointless if Joe tripped and took them both down.

  Once they were back on the main road, Wade let go of Joe’s arm but kept very close to him. The guide talked some more at the top of a nearby driveway before leading everyone back toward the square and to the other side. Joe slowed his pace. Wade was happy not to rush, but also glad because it gave them a little privacy to linger at the back of the group.

  The tour group crossed the square and had to deal with a tricky crosswalk across a busy street. Wade muttered to Joe about rabbits trying to cross the road and to look out for the “hrududu.” Joe laughed and said, “Okay, Fiver.” Wade looked at Joe and felt a surge of affection.

  The group made their way down a hill toward a cemetery where it was very dark. Joe kept the flashlight pointed down until they found some level ground near a gravestone. They stood still while the guide talked about the occupants and the area. Wade let go of Joe’s arm while they listened to the guide, and Joe put his arm around Wade’s waist. Wade did not protest.

  When the guide led them out of the cemetery, Wade held on to Joe’s arm again as they walked along the dark streets. The tour made a few more stops outside some houses before the guide led everyone back to the gazebo in the square. Everyone thanked the guide, and the group dispersed. The two men headed back to Joe’s car.

  Once they were driving back to Wade’s house, Wade said, “Thank you for such a fun evening. It was really nice to get out and about.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Joe said. “I had a good time too.”

  “I’m glad.”

  They were silent for a while, and Wade was aware once again of how comfortable he felt with Joe. If he had known Joe was thinking the same thing, he might have risked saying more, but he was tired, and when he was tired, the insecure voices started up.

  When Joe started talking, it was about some of the information the ghost guide had told them and they discussed certain aspects of the tour for the rest of the drive home. Once there, Joe got out of the car to walk Wade to the back door. Wade unlocked it and hesitated a moment before he said, “This was a great idea. Thanks again for getting me out of this house and out of my head for a while.”

  “My pleasure. Really. I haven’t been out in a long time either. This was great.”

  They stood, awkwardly looking at each other. Neither wanted to leave, but neither wanted to make a move and make an ass of himself. Even so they had slowly, almost imperceptibly, begun to lean toward each other when they were jolted by the sound of the kitchen phone ringing.

  “Who the hell is that?” said Wade, turning with annoyance.

  “It’s too late at night for telemarketers,” said Joe.

  Wade turned back to Joe with a smile, but he did not know what to do. It felt like the moment had passed, and he did not know how to get it back. As he contemplated his next move, a voice came through the answering machine. It was his sister, Sheila.

  “Wade? Are you there? I called your upstairs line and left a message. I’m calling Mom’s line because you might be downstairs. Wade? I really need to talk. Pick up the phone if you can hear me. Wade?”

  He looked at Joe, said, “Wait,” and dashed into the kitchen to pick up the phone.

  “Sheila, I’m here! Hold on a minute, okay?”

  He put the phone down and went back to Joe.

 
“I’m so sorry about this. I really enjoyed tonight.”

  “I did too. No worries. Talk to your sister. I’ll see you next week for your appointment.” He turned to go, but stopped and said, “Maybe we can do something like this again?”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  “Good.”

  “Thanks again for driving. Safe journey home!”

  “Good night!” Joe waved and walked to his car.

  Wade closed the door and said numerous silent curses to his sister before picking up the phone again.

  “WELL, I’M done unpacking.” Sheila plunked herself down on the sofa in the den with enough force to make Wade’s elbow ache.

  “Great,” said Wade.

  “Can I get you anything to drink or eat?” asked Lorraine.

  “No, Mom, I’m fine,” Sheila said. “I don’t want y’all treating me like I’m a guest in the house. This isn’t a vacation.”

  “So tell me again what happened,” said Wade.

  “I had a huge argument with Jack. I came into his office, and he had his hands on a woman’s breasts,” said Sheila.

  “Isn’t that his job?” Wade said. “He’s a plastic surgeon.”

  “This wasn’t in an exam room! This was in his private office. And the woman wasn’t a patient—she’s his secretary,” Sheila huffed.

  “Oh, dear,” said Lorraine.

  “Well, thank you, Mother!” Sheila said disputatiously.

  “Watch your tone, missy,” Lorraine warned parentally, “I’m on new medications now and I can give you a good swat without falling over!”

  “What did Jack say?” asked Wade, in an attempt to keep to the point.

  “He says that his secretary was worried about a lump in her breast and wanted him to see if it was a cyst or something she should have checked out,” said Sheila.

  “Sounds plausible,” said Wade.

  “Oh, they always make it sound plausible.” Sheila snorted. “That’s the trouble.”

  “Well, maybe he—” Lorraine began.

  “No! No, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” said Sheila with a wave of her hand. She smoothed out her hair, took a deep breath, and then asked, “So, how have you two been doing?”