Wheels (Tabor Heights Year Two)

by Michelle Levigne

  "Oh." She tipped her head to one side and studied Natalie as they headed down the sidewalk. Then she giggled. "He's a big, double-big goofball, isn't he?"

  "Yeah, he sure is." Natalie stuck her tongue out at Tommy when he scowled at her, with laughter sparkling bright in his eyes. "But he's kind of cute that way."

  "Warning sign," Tommy said, addressing Puck over Sammy's head. "A guy knows he's in trouble when a girl tells him to his face that he's cute. The next line is that she considers him like a brother and she wants to always be friends. Which means nothing more than friends."

  "What's more than friends?" Sammy wanted to know.

  "Ask your mother."

  That started her off on another round of giggles. Feeling some pity for Tommy, Natalie asked Sammy what she did in school. The excited recitation of the words on her spelling test and the gold star she got for penmanship and being allowed to take the count for who wanted milk at lunchtime and all the other little-yet-big details of a first-grader's day took them all the way to the Mission's front door. Natalie didn't blame Tommy when he paused after maneuvering up the shallow front step and let Sammy slide off his lap to race indoors without them. Puck followed on her heels and veered down the hallway to the right, probably looking for Jennifer.

  "Where do little kids get all that energy?" she said, to the world at large, not just to Tommy.

  "I don't know, but I think that's why old folks are so tired. They used it all up when they were her age." He pivoted his chair around so he had his back to the front doors. "She does that a lot, so don't take it personally or panic or anything."

  "What? Matchmaking?" She considered teasing him for a moment, but couldn't come up with the right words. "Obviously she thinks you need someone."

  "Yeah, the kid's let success go to her head. The first day she got here, she took one look at Claire and said she wanted her for her new mother. A year later, Paul and Claire are married. Now she thinks she needs to get me leg-shackled."

  "Wouldn't that make it hard to wheel your chair around?" slipped out before she thought about it.

  "Oh, boy, you better watch it, Lois Lane." Tommy backed up to the door, which was propped open, and wheeled himself over the threshold backwards. "You're starting to sound just as bad as me. People might think we belong together. Then you'd be in real trouble."

  "Depends on your definition of trouble," Natalie murmured, and to let him get a good distance ahead of her, before going inside.

  *****

  Tommy gladly dove into his end-of-the-day chores, just to put some distance between him and Natalie. She didn't look horrified or stunned or even amused by Sammy's matchmaking tendencies, and that made it hard for him to come up with a response. Was he supposed to reassure her, tease her out of her misgivings? How could he smooth over the awkwardness when he couldn't tell what she felt about the idea of her and him… together? What made it really awkward was that he felt comfortable with Natalie. He didn't feel like she stood behind a wall of wheelchairs and braces and white canes, trying to see him through the equipment and other barriers. Sometimes, some of the things she had said, her quick responses, it was like they had known each other for years and their brains were almost in synch.

  Impossible, he knew, but that was the only way to explain how he felt when she was around. In less than a day.

  He braced himself to learn she had gone to her temporary apartment, when he finished overseeing the release of everybody over the age of three and returned to the office. Tommy wasn't sure he liked the momentarily breathless sense of relief when he saw Natalie sitting on the spare desk, talking and laughing with Claire, while Sammy sat on the bench along the glass wall at the front of the office and worked on homework. They looked comfortable together -- Natalie looked like she belonged there.

  "Hey." Paul stepped up behind Tommy. "Coming or going?" he asked, resting his hands on the handlebars on the back of his chair.

  A handful of quips clogged on Tommy's tongue. He just shrugged and moved the rest of the way into the office, unblocking the doorway.

  "Everybody ready to go home?" Paul said, stepping around him to lean on the counter and look over it at Claire.

  "Please!" Claire stood up.

  Tommy caught the way she hesitated a moment, bracing herself with one hand on her desk. He didn't like the slightest hint that she forced her smile. What was wrong with his sister? And why wasn't she doing anything about how she looked so pale sometimes, and couldn't eat other times?

  More important, why wasn't Paul doing anything about it? Wasn't a guy supposed to be extra-attentive at the beginning of the marriage, and only start ignoring things after ten, fifteen years?

  Not that Tommy had much experience with good marriages. Not from the inside. He couldn't compare what he remembered of his parents' marriage, because his memories were tainted.

  "That's my cue to vanish," Grace said, leaning in from the other door out into the hall. "Catch you guys tomorrow. I'm going home and getting some rest."

  "We're all going to need it." Paul stepped back, letting Claire and Natalie go ahead of him as they came out from behind the counter.

  Tommy let out a soft sigh, pleased, when Paul wrapped his arm around Claire's waist. That was the way things should be with newlyweds.

  "Ask her about the telephones. You'll love it," Grace added with a big grin and an eye roll.

  "Telephones?" Paul frowned when she just shook her head and vanished out into the hall again, pulling the door closed behind her. He looked between Claire and Tommy as Sammy climbed up into Tommy's lap, clutching her backpack full of homework. "What about the phones?"

  "Dead about three hours," Claire said.

  "In the middle of the phone campaign," Tommy added, though he knew it wasn't necessary. He just needed to gripe, still feeling that irritation and the sense someone was out to get him, personally. This was his big initiative, after all.

  "It was like they had somebody on the inside, letting them know our work schedule. But we had enough people here using their cell phones to bombard the phone company and get some action--"

  "Not soon enough, obviously, if the phones were down that long," Paul said.

  "Whatever the explanation, nobody told me. I had other things to take care of, preparing for the walk. Tommy has fans at the phone company, and when they found out he was my baby brother, they were very happy to help out. Supposedly it was only a computer glitch, but I don't think it'll be allowed to happen again."

  "We hope," Tommy said, his thoughts racing, so he didn't even feel like complaining at being called her "baby" brother. "How come nobody bothered telling me when it happened? How come I had to hear about it when I was heading for the school?"

  "You were at the Rotary Club luncheon. When were we supposed to call and interrupt?"

  "Hey, yeah, the Rotary," Paul said as they headed out of the office.

  Natalie walked with them without hesitation, so Tommy hoped she had been invited to dinner. He liked the idea, and wondered why he hadn't thought of it first.

  "So, was it a good show?" his brother-in-law continued.

  "Had them eating out of my hand," Tommy reported, with a wink for Natalie. He paid more attention to how Paul took the keys from Claire and locked up the office.

  "That's a delightful mental image," his sister said. "I know how often you don't wash your hands."

  Natalie laughed with the others, as if she understood the in-joke. Tommy tried not to analyze how that made him feel, as they crossed the lobby and went out the front doors, and Paul locked up again. He sensed that thinking too hard would totally erase the warm, content feeling.

  Claire took care of introducing Paul to Natalie, and that was when Tommy learned she was indeed coming for dinner. She had taken an apartment in town, within walking distance of the Mission, instead of using a hotel several miles away. Another reporter at her magazine was friends with Nikki, who had sent her to Mandy Gordon to get her temporary quarters. The apartment was just two st
reets over from the Hunter-Donnelly house. Tommy nearly broke his own resolution, marveling at the little thump of delight in his chest.

  The five of them piled into the family van, and he braced himself for another round of Sammy's matchmaking when the little girl insisted on Natalie sitting on the back bench seat with her. Maybe Natalie picked up on that flicker of panic, or she feared the return of the topic, because she asked questions about wheelchair equipment and accessories as they went through the process of lowering the lift in the van, loading his chair, and clamping it down into place. Sammy didn't climb into Natalie's lap, but she leaned against the woman the entire ride to the house. Tommy decided to take that as a good sign.

  Good sign of what, exactly?

  No, he wasn't going to think about it. At least, as much as he was able to not think about it.

  At home, Paul and Claire took care of dinner, declining help from Natalie. It was essentially a picnic, anyway, and wouldn't take much time to put together. Tommy was grateful for the continuing warm weather. Besides making the handicap accessibility and awareness walk comfortable for everyone participating on Saturday, it meant they could eat outdoors at the picnic table, which certainly had more room for guests than the round table in the dinette.

  "I noticed the ham radio setup in the living room," Natalie said, after they were all seated outside, with the mouthwatering aromas of fresh brats lingering in the air from the grill. "Whose is it?"

  "We're all getting into it," Claire said, with one of those thousand-words-in-a-second glances she shared with Paul. The kind that made Tommy feel like he was an intruder, and wish he had a chance of knowing that unity with someone of his own.

  "What she means is that I took a ham radio training class with some friends," Tommy said. "I was just curious. Didn't have any plans to get involved. But it was an easy Christmas present, getting me my set. And only then did they realize what it meant."

  He relaxed, letting Paul do most of the talking for a short time, talking about the odd conversations they had overheard on the shared airwaves, and the funny incidents where they had to explain to Sammy that she hadn't heard what she thought she heard, the innocent silliness when she mistook words for something else entirely. Tommy liked watching Natalie when she wasn't focused on him.

  Yeah, that was the right word. Focused. When she talked with someone, or listened as she did now, she gave her whole focus. He wondered how many interview subjects she had terrified with the intensity of the attention she paid to them. And how many idiots and self-absorbed jerks she had unintentionally flattered into thinking what they said was world-shaking important. Tommy snickered at that image. Then he wondered if Natalie handicapped herself, with her talent for concentration and focus.

  "Well," Claire said, when Paul had finished his third story and they all laughed, even Sammy, who probably still didn't understand what was so funny, "at least we know we'll always have a way to call for help if the Martians land or the villagers decide to storm the castle."

  "Uh oh," Paul said. "More lunatic phone calls?"

  "Our old friend -- whatever his name is. This time he was pretending to be a medical expert."

  "I wish that caller I.D. equipment would get here." He nodded to Natalie, including her in the conversation. "With all the opposition we've been having lately, now that the Mission is going full steam ahead on renovations and getting more involved in the community, we've decided we need to be able to identify the people who limit contact to the phone."

  "Dangerous?" Natalie asked.

  "Only to our sanity," Tommy said.

  "We need to be able to find people who call us for help, but who are either afraid to tell us where they are, or are unable, because they get cut off by whoever is harming them," Claire said. "There are a lot of people who would prefer coming to us, rather than going to the police. They think it will all be off the record."

  "They think the Mission can avoid a lot of protocol that seems to tie the hands of the police," Paul said.

  "Well, sometimes we do, but usually that's when Arc gets involved," she said, nodding. "They have experience in the really…" Her gaze landed on Sammy for a moment, and Tommy knew she was changing her words. "The really tense situations. They know what they can do, sidestepping the rules, and when they have to get the authorities involved to keep the situation from getting worse."

  "Like what?" Natalie wanted to know. "Arc is someone else's beat, but…" She shrugged.

  "Well, there was that blow-up last summer," Tommy offered. "There was a girl getting abused by her boyfriend. Making her do things we don't want to talk about in front of some people." He tipped his head toward Sammy, who sat next to him. "They met Dani at the crusade, so they came to her for help. Dani called Nikki for help, and Nikki got somebody at Arc to come out right away and take the girl and her friend to a shelter, instead of going through the police, who would have asked a lot of questions before they were allowed to do anything. So she wasn't anywhere around when her boyfriend came looking for her with a gun."

  "Wow." Natalie looked around the table, meeting their gazes. "That worked out, then."

  "Yeah." He swallowed hard, pushing back the words that wanted to follow -- how Dani had been threatened by the angry boyfriend, and when her brother, Andy came to her rescue, he ended up shot and bled to death.

  Sometimes the good guys didn't entirely win in the end. Tommy thought about the threats from crazies that had been launched against the Mission since he and Claire first came to town. None of it added up to a brute with a gun, and he hoped such danger never came near the Mission, the children he loved, and especially his family, who were all involved in it, one way or another.

  Please, God, keep them all safe? Shut up the loonies and make them hang themselves with their own nastiness, just like that Puke woman did? Please?

  Chapter Eight

  "You know, this problem with the phones today could be an inside job," Paul said, dragging Tommy's thoughts back to the conversation. "It's the only way I can think of for things to be turned off like they were, without anyone noticing the problem on a couple dozen control boards. I'll bet when everything is investigated, the guy at the phone company who sabotaged things today could be the same one who's delaying our order for the caller I.D. Can't prove it, though."

  "No, but I bet if we tell Sophie at Arc, she can start investigating her own way, and find out for us," Claire offered.

  "Okay, I've heard about Sophie," Natalie said. "Will she be down here for the awareness walk?"

  "She should," Tommy said. "She's got four-wheel-drive just like me."

  "Nuh uh," Sammy offered. "Sophie's got a 'lectric chair. It goes a million times faster than Uncle Tommy."

  "Well, that sounds like I need to challenge old Sophie to a drag race, next time she comes to town," he retorted.

  "That, I'd like to see," Claire said, standing up with her hands full of dishes. "You need to be taken down a couple--"

  Paul was on his feet, yanking the plates from her hands and sliding them onto the table before Tommy realized his sister had gone pale and her eyes looked glazed. He watched, feeling helpless as his brother-in-law guided Claire into a lawn chair sitting a few feet away from the table. His stomach twisted around his three brats-with-everything, pasta salad and veggie sticks. Knowing Paul had plenty of experience dealing with sick women was no comfort. Paul's first wife had died of her illness.

  Claire's not going to die, Tommy silently chanted a dozen times while Sammy slid onto his lap and clung to him as they watched Paul check Claire's pulse and eyes and breathing and murmured questions. Please, God? Don't let her die. She's just pushing herself too hard lately. It's been a rough summer. She just needs a long vacation. Please, God?

  Hearing Claire claim she had just been pushing herself a little too hard didn't help. Tommy realized he hadn't believed himself, either.

  "Are you finally going to listen to me and go see the doctor?" Paul said, settling back on his haunches, with his hand
s braced on the arms of the chair.

  "It's not a matter of listening to you," Claire said. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. When she opened her eyes again, Tommy was surprised to see she looked… embarrassed. Or maybe sheepish was a better word. "I made an appointment last week. They couldn't get me in until tomorrow morning. I was hoping to get it all taken care of without anybody knowing."

  "Not on your life, Mrs. Hunter. I'm going with you."

  "It's not that serious, that I need you holding my hand."

  "Hey, I need to hold your hand," Paul retorted.

  "Mommy?" Sammy chirped.

  "Yes, honey?" Claire said.

  "You're not gonna go to heaven too, are you?"

  "No. Definitely not." Paul stood, and pulled Claire to her feet. "She's nowhere near as sick as your first mommy was. This is just a bug or something. And Claire works harder than five women put together. She needs a long rest, that's all. Maybe we should go on a vacation. What do you think?" he said, and Tommy knew he was talking to Claire and nobody else as he led her to the door back into the house.

  "How about we get the table cleared while they're busy?" Natalie suggested, her voice pitched soft, her gaze focused on Paul and Claire.

  Tommy could have hugged her. Having something to do would keep Sammy occupied, at least, and not asking questions. Unfortunately, no matter how many dishes he carried on his lap to haul into the house, he could still think hard, and worry.

  *****

  When she got back to her little efficiency apartment that night, Natalie's thoughts were full of Claire's illness and Paul's tenderness, and the bits of their history that Tommy had shared in whispers while they cleared the table. She wondered what she would have written, if she had been here covering the first few months of the alliance between the Arc Foundation and the Mission. What would have been her take on the evidence of danger directed at the children because of Paul's former in-laws, and their determination to get custody of Sammy by any means, to control her inheritance. Judging by the house the four of them shared, Paul was being scrupulous about not touching his daughter's money. Natalie admired him, and wondered how long it would take before the economy and other pressures nudged him into finding justification for "borrowing" here and there. A house repair. A new car. A built-in pool to replace the wading pool that had left a ring like a crop circle in the grass in the back yard. Other conveniences and luxuries that could easily become necessities once the trickle of money became a stream.