by B. E. Baker
Paul snags Troy and swings him above his head, settling him on his shoulders. “Stay put here for a moment little man. Can’t have you destroying the lobby before we check in, can we?”
Troy giggles and blows a raspberry into the air. “Fine.”
“Brekka, it’s so nice to meet you,” Trudy says. “Mary wasn’t kidding. Trig has told us so much about you that it feels like we know you already. We only wish you lived near Atlanta so you could come to the game nights.” Trudy laughs, and the sound brings a smile to my lips, it’s so silvery and full of joy. “Or maybe not. I already lose every single week. Which Paul hates, but he hasn’t fired me as his partner yet. From what I hear, you’d be another Game Night Megalith.”
“Hey, you beat me most of the time,” Rob protests.
That’s when I realize Rob knows all these people already, of course he does. They’re his people. He’s been going to game nights with them, and hanging out with Paisley and Trig and Geo every week at dinners and parties, probably. I’m not the old friend they’re happy to see. I’m the outsider in this circle.
“If I can convince her to come down a weekend or two a month,” Rob says, “maybe my luck will change. Surely her genius can counteract my mediocrity.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead and my feeling of exclusion evaporates.
“You should come,” Trudy says. “Mary and Luke have been practicing cooking all sorts of things, and Trig and Geo always buy something amazing. The snacks alone are almost worth a trip.”
Troy looks down at me. “I never get to come. And no one even brings me snacks at all.”
I laugh. “I’ll definitely consider it.” I wink at Troy. “And I’ll be sure they take snacks home for you if I’m there.”
Troy rewards me with an ear-to-ear grin. “Hooray!”
Rob grabs his suitcase again and points at the elevator bay. “I’m going to go drop this off so we won’t be late for the dinner.”
“So much for alone time I guess. I’ll meet you there,” I say. “I should make sure Geo doesn’t have any last minute questions.”
“See you shortly.”
Mary and Luke and their kids pour into the elevator with him, and as the doors close, I see him pick up Amy with a smile. My heart constricts. Rob’s a good guy. And he’s my boyfriend. My boyfriend. I didn’t think I’d ever have a boyfriend again.
I wheel into the banquet hall where Geo’s talking to guests who are trickling in early. There isn’t an empty area near the front of the table where I might belong, but Trig jogs over when he sees me.
“Brekka!” He leans down to kiss the top of my head. “Thank gosh you’re here. Mom and Dad are both pelting me with questions. I guess you and Rob came out of the metaphorical dating closet?”
I roll my eyes. “Rob outed us, yes, but he didn’t have much choice. They were both standing in the lobby when he arrived. It was confess, or pretend he didn’t know me.” Which would have broken my heart, so I’m glad he didn’t. “But hey, speaking of, where am I supposed to be sitting?”
“Right by me.” He points to the front of the table. “I put you just to my left.”
“There’s a chair there,” I point out.
“Right. Usually you want to transfer over. I’ll take Gladys into the storage room whenever you’re ready.”
I shake my head. “Not anymore. I’m done with that. It’s too annoying. Besides, everyone here knows I’m in a chair, or if they don’t, they will soon.”
Trig’s eyes widen. “Got it. Let me get that chair out of the way, then.” To his credit, he says nothing else and trots over right away to move the chair. I wheel over to the table and realize Rob’s placard isn’t next to mine.
“Uh.”
Geo notices my face. “What’s up?”
“Where’s Rob sitting?” I ask.
Geo smiles. “He’s right across from you, next to me. Since I don’t have any siblings, I thought you might loan him to me. Plus, you can stare at his handsome face easier this way.”
I try to suppress my disappointment. “I guess I can make that work.” I notice the nameplate next to mine. Mother. I groan.
“Since she insisted on paying for the entire thing, she sort of got to choose where to sit,” Geo says. “Your dad was fine with being a few guests down and didn’t want to sit near your mother, whereas your mother insisted on being right by you and Trig.”
Of course she did. Ugh. “Okay, that’s fine. Rob seemed to manage her reasonably well.”
“Does it make me a horrible person if I hope you and Rob draw some of the fire away from me? She’s still not my biggest fan.”
I gape. “She practically gushes about you non-stop to everyone we meet.”
Geo lifts one eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” I say. “Geode Poulson, her soon-to-be supermodel daughter-in-law, who completely dismissed her looks and focused instead on building the highest caliber event planning company in the state of Georgia. You haven’t heard her whole spiel? Really?”
Geo shakes her head. “Not even a hint at it. When we talk, she’s always unhappy with something. The colors I chose, my dress, the veil, the seating, the venue for the wedding ceremony, this hotel. And she strongly hints I should have them all under control since, hey, it is my job, which I must clearly stink at doing.”
Mom’s kind of a bear.
“Look out. Two o’clock,” I whisper. The bear’s heading our way, perfect lipstick back in place.
Geo’s million watt smile amps it up a few thousand more watts and I have to look away or risk going blind. It must be exhausting looking so perfect all the time. I suddenly wish I’d headed by the restroom on the way here, just to make sure there’s no lipstick where there shouldn’t be, or hair sticking straight up. I run my tongue over my front teeth and smooth my hair with my hand.
“You look perfect,” Rob whispers from the side. “Don’t stress.”
The perfect symmetry of his face takes me off guard again, and my breathing hitches. He’s redone his tie, and smoothed his shirt a little, but his smile is as perfect as it ever was. “Tell me where we’re sitting.”
I wheel forward into my empty space, and point across the table at his spot.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry, that won’t do.” He grins wolfishly at me.
“Why not?” I ask nervously.
He slides into my Mom’s seat and whispers. “How am I supposed to hold your hand under the table from over there?” His hand reaches for me and our fingers interlace effortlessly, like we’ve been apart mere hours instead of weeks. “Surely your mother can be bargained with?”
“I’m a reasonable woman,” Mom says behind me, “but I’m also sure you can survive without holding my daughter’s hand for a few moments.”
Rob doesn’t flinch or back down, and the grin on his face shifts from wolfish to charming.
“The rumors of your poise weren’t exaggerated,” Rob says, “And I’m duly chastened. But you must place some value on young love.”
My heart leaps. Young love?
Mom meets my eye before she says, “I think the truly valiant heart strengthens in the face of adversity.”
“Touché.” Rob stands and releases my hand. “But don’t blame me when you have to watch me mooning over Brekka like a lovesick puppy all night. You did this to yourself.”
Mom sits down next to me. “He’s a real piece of work.”
I don’t argue, because he’s my piece of work. And he can defend himself.
22
Rob
Brekka’s mom isn’t nearly as bad as she said. She may be a little prickly at first, but by the end of the rehearsal dinner, she’s giving me stock tips and offering me the end of her cheesecake.
“I’m okay with just the one piece, but thank you so much for the offer.” I lean toward Brekka and her mother. “Besides. Between you and me, if I eat much more cheesecake, Brekka might dump me. Trig told me she only likes me for my washboard abs.”
Brekka blushes, which I adore. “That’s not true at all. I’d love you the same, even if you were squishy around the middle.”
I freeze like a deer scenting the hunter. She’d love me? Does that mean she loves me now? Or was it a simple turn of phrase? I’ve never wanted to ditch a gathering so badly in my life. But I can’t leave Geo’s rehearsal dinner to interrogate Brekka about her meaning, no matter how badly I might want to. I’m the only real family Geo’s got left.
As if she senses my desire to leave, Geo pats my knee. “You’ve been awesome tonight, and drawn all the attention away from me. I can’t ever repay you.”
“Exactly the opposite of what most brides would want,” I say. “No attention for them the night before their wedding would probably have them snarling.”
She laughs. “I’m not most brides.”
But she does look like they all wish they looked, I imagine. And she’s marrying a guy they’d all love to marry, too.
For Geo’s sake, I wait things out. But when the band strikes up a number and couples start pairing off on the dance floor, my heart races. I should have thought about dancing. Where will that leave Brekka and me? I glance down the table at where Troy’s asleep on his mother’s shoulder.
“That’s how I feel right now,” I say. “Between the long flight and the time change, in another five minutes, I’ll be drooling on your shoulder, Brekka. Any chance you’re tired? Because I don’t want to be the only loser who can’t stick around to dance, but—” I yawn.
The lines around Brekka’s eyes ease and she beams at me. “I’m exhausted.” She glances over at Trig and Geo, swaying on the dance floor. “I doubt they’ll even notice if we sneak away.”
Brekka’s Mom winks at me. “Yes, you two better get some sleep.”
That’s one way to take the magic out of it, a knowing wink from your girlfriend’s mom. Ugh. I stand and circle around the head of the table. Brekka’s as speedy as me, backing out and spinning around toward the door.
“I’ve never seen anyone captivate my mother like that,” Brekka says when we reach the open hallway.
“I told you parents like me.”
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. She hated my last three boyfriends, and they all—”
She cuts off short, but I’d be willing to guess she was about to say they could have bought and sold me. How could her mother like me, when I’m so clearly unsatisfactory by everything that matters to a woman like Mrs. Thornton? She didn’t say the words, but they sting all the same.
“People are still people, no matter how much money they have. If you connect with them and discuss things they care about, they’ll respond to you.”
“I doubt any of my last three boyfriends had as much insight in their entire bodies as you put into that one comment.”
I shrug. “Knowing people is kind of what drives sales. You only sell well when you can provide a person something they need. I may not be able to sell individual cars well, but I understand people most of the time.”
We reach the elevators and I push the button. Brekka reaches for my hand. “You were spectacular. Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask, lacing our fingers together happily.
“For being you. No matter what, no matter who you’re with, you’re always the same. Strong, steady, kind.”
“I think everyone is always the same, by definition.”
She shakes her head. “Not even close. Most people show off to some people, act humble to others, and to people they think beneath them, they’re mean. You’re always the same Rob and it’s refreshing.”
“You haven’t seen me around my family yet,” I say.
“True. Maybe you’re a monster around the people you love so much that you work day in and day out at a job you hate for them.”
The elevator dings and Brekka releases my hand. I’d never thought before how many aspects of small interactions the wheelchair impacts. No simple strolls down the beach, casually holding hands. No simple travel plans, last minute or on a whim. How complicated even things like a destination wedding make her life, and Clive’s and everyone who’s differently abled than me.
Or how strong you have to be to navigate it all without giving in to anger and irritation.
Brekka presses button number four.
“I’m on six.”
“At least see me to my room.”
My breathing hitches. “As long as you’re only asking for protection from intruders. Because I wasn’t kidding earlier. I’m so tired I might pass out as soon as I’m horizontal.”
Brekka looks down at the floor and I realize she doesn’t know I’m teasing her.
“I am tired, but I’m kidding, Brekka. I’d love to come talk in person for a while.” I drop a kiss on the top of her shining hair. Her face turns toward mine and my lips move to hers.
But the doors ding open too soon, and I stand upright to follow her out. My heart races so quickly, and my brain’s so fuzzy from exhaustion, that I can’t string words together easily. I don’t speak while I walk down the hall to her room. Four oh six.
She swipes her card and opens the door, shoving it and swiveling quickly, to back through. I reach my hand up to hold it open so she can move through more easily.
“Thanks.” Her voice is small, so small, just like her. A tiny person with a huge soul.
I follow her into her room and turn in a circle, marveling at her space. It’s huge. Accessible, clearly, and about three times the size of my room. She rolls through to the sitting area and lines Gladys up next to the fluffy sofa. She moves her legs off her chair one at a time using her hands. Then she shifts her bottom until she’s sitting on the sofa, and pats the space next to her.
“I promise I won’t keep you up very long, but I’ve been wanting a hug since the moment I saw you.”
Her wide eyes tell me how much it cost her to admit that. I practically sprint across the room and sit down next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. I close my eyes and savor the connection between our bodies, all along my side, her shoulder tucked under my arm, the side of her body pressed against mine.
Something I’d been missing my entire life clicks into place.
Like the last small fragment of a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. Like attaching the doors to the front of an otherwise perfect cabinet. Like drinking a tall, cold glass of milk after I’ve inhaled four cookies. Like breathing after a long swim underwater.
Pulling Brekka’s body against mine repairs the parts of me Mark’s death shattered. It repairs the pain from Geo not loving me. It repairs the fear I’ve had that I’m not enough for her. Because clearly she’s the yin to my yang, the creamy peanut butter to my dark chocolate.
I sigh, and her head tucks underneath my chin.
“You shouldn’t have kept me away.”
“I wasn’t ready to see you until a few days ago.” She breathes softly against my chest and I wish I could capture this moment in a bottle and savor it when things are hard. When I’m lonely. When the ache inside my chest feels like it’ll never ease.
“Why not?” I need to know. Why did she hold me at arm’s length for so long when we clearly fit so well?
She ducks her head even lower, her voice muffled against the fabric of my shirt. “After the surgery, I lost sensation in my left side.”
I don’t swear, but I want to. She’s been hurting and I didn’t even know. Why didn’t Trig tell me? Or Geo? They had to know. Or why didn’t Brekka tell me? Doesn’t she trust me yet?
“I had to learn how to navigate without it. I doubled down on physical therapy. None of it helped, and I was spiraling a little.”
I hook one finger under her chin and lift her face so I can see her soft golden eyes, her fringy lashes, and her high cheekbones. “I can’t be there for you when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
She shakes her head. “Only I could fix it.”
“You can’t fix everything. Sometimes you adjust instead.�
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She bobs her head. “I know that. But in this case, the sensation came back, or at least most of it has.”
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Oh, I’m so glad for you. Not that it matters to me, but I’m sure that was rough.”
She looks down again and this time I let her. “All I could think about was how I’d never feel you touching my left leg. I’d never feel you, not there. Not ever, because I didn’t listen to your advice. Because I was trying to make myself good enough for you.”
I shake my head, sure she can feel my vehement denial in the stiff line of my body. “You’re already way too good for me.”
Her eyes meet mine of their own volition this time, and my head closes the distance between us. I capture her soft lips with mine.
She’s the first bite of a crisp grilled cheese. She’s the first dive of summer into a cool pool. She’s raindrops on my face after a hot day. I could kiss her all night, her presence eradicating any exhaustion I felt. She shifts in my arms and her hand cups my face, rasping across my five o’clock shadow. When her other hand slides across my stomach, my abdominal muscles tighten.
“You really do have a six pack,” she murmurs.
“You’ve been to the beach with me,” I say.
“It’s different to feel your stomach myself.”
I’ll say.
But before her hand can slide under my shirt, I force myself to sit up and shift slightly away from her. It nearly destroys me.
“Why are you pulling back?” Her eyes fill with uncertainty and doubt and I want to shove ahead without thinking. I want to yank my shirt off myself, but that’s not what Brekka needs. Fragile, perfect, painfully beautiful Brekka. And what I want always comes second to what she needs.
“We can’t,” I say. “Not tonight, not now.”
She swallows. “Why not?”
I look up at the ceiling. “Because when we do, it’s going to be earth shatteringly perfect. It’s going to change everything for you, and for me, and for us.” I look back at the face that would make Madonna cry with envy. “I love you Brekka Thornton. I’ve loved you since you stormed into my office to tell me I couldn’t love your brother’s fiancée. I’ve loved you since you utterly confused my life, and turned everything on its head. I love your defiance, your vulnerability, your doubt, your strength, your bravery and your care for the people you love. I love your anger, your frustration and your hope.”
