“Capper? What does that mean?”
“A handicapped person—a capper. We’re also called crips and gimps. That’s the short list of insults people use when you’re in a chair. I know people have to look down at me but does that mean they have to look down on me too?”
That gave me reason to pause. Had I looked down on Sawyer? Had I done anything to disrespect him? I didn’t think so but I wasn’t entirely sure.
“Will you do something for me?” I asked.
He got a glint in his eye. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’m being serious, okay?”
He bit his bottom lip and tried not to smile “Okay, I’m completely serious.”
“Yeah, right. You look like you’re going to laugh any minute.”
He tried to make his face serious. “Okay. Now I’m serious. What do you have to say that requires this level of seriousness?”
I looked into Sawyer’s dazzling green eyes and my heart skipped a few beats. I took a deep breath and tried to control my growing attraction toward my lab partner. “I don’t have a lot of experience with people who use wheelchairs. Promise you’ll tell me if I do or say anything that’s really stupid or if I do or say something that hurts your feelings or makes you mad or upset.”
He seemed to be thinking about it for a minute. Then he got a really serious expression on his face and said, “I have to admit that I’m a little bit offended by the jeans and baggy long sleeve sweat shirt you’re wearing. I think I’d find a short skirt and little form fitting V-neck sweater much less offensive.”
“Seriously?” Now I was the one who was offended.
When he gave me his dazzling smile, it melted away any anger I was feeling. “I am serious when I say, I appreciate the sentiment. No one has ever said that to me before and I really do appreciate it. And I really will tell you if you unintentionally say something stupid or upsetting.”
“Okay,” I said. “And maybe tomorrow, I’ll think about wearing a V-neck sweater. It’s a little cold for a mini shirt, though.”
He laughed. “I’ll settle for what I can get. It’s kind of been my mantra since I’ve been in the chair.”
***
When I got back to my apartment later that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Sawyer. We had exchanged phone numbers, under the pretext that we needed them in case of emergencies, since we’d be working together. But I couldn’t help but feel like there was more to it than that. That Sawyer wanted my number so we could go out.
Then I realized that it was probably just wishful thinking on my part. Sawyer could never be interested in someone like me, could he?
I wondered what it would be like to date someone who used a wheelchair. Of course that led to me thinking about whether or not he could have sex.
Why was I thinking about sex with Sawyer Reed?
When my cell phone chirped, my heart skipped a few beats. Was Sawyer calling me? I actually got nervous and excited until I saw the call display.
It was my mother.
“Hey, Mom,” I said as I answered the call.
“So how was your first day on the job?” My mom phoned me practically every day, so I don’t know why I was expecting it to be anyone else.
“Fine. Dr. Weaver has high expectations but I’m catching on quickly.”
“You always do well at everything you put your energy toward. I’m sure the internship will be no exception. And, who is your lab partner? I know you were nervous about it being one of your old boyfriends.”
“It’s a guy I went to high school with. Do you remember Sawyer Reed?”
“The name sounds vaguely familiar.”
“He was a year ahead of me. Very popular. He played football and basketball.” I didn’t want to reveal that he also made fun of me every day. My mom didn’t need to know about that when I was actually in high school and she didn’t need to know it now, either. She had no idea how much of a nerd I really was in high school.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” My mom was very interested in me meeting someone. She didn’t like the fact that I was too busy to date. She thought college was the perfect time for women to meet their life partners because that’s when she met my dad. The fact I was already a senior and hadn’t had a very serious relationship really bothered her.
“I don’t know, Mom. It’s not something we really discussed. Besides, he uses a wheelchair.”
I’m not sure why I said it that way. Did being in a wheelchair somehow preclude him from having a serious relationship? I didn’t think so but I wasn’t sure. Did girls want to date guys in wheelchairs? Did I want to date someone who used a wheelchair?
It was very confusing.
“Oh,” my mom said. She sounded really disappointed. “What did you say his name was?”
“Sawyer Reed.”
My mom paused for a moment then she said, “Finney and McCaleb.”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s who handled his lawsuit. It was a skiing accident.”
My mom is an ambulance chaser, which if you don’t know, is a derogatory term for a personal injury lawyer. She also specializes in DUI cases. Yes, she defends people who drink and drive. Cops just love her.
“I can’t believe you know that,” I said even though I absolutely did believe it. My mom is a brilliant lawyer. She’s a little messed up in other ways but she knows the law.
“Oh, well,” my mom sighed. “Maybe he has some cute friends he can introduce you to.”
I could feel anger coursing through my veins and I wasn’t even sure why. But I felt an overwhelming desire to defend Sawyer. “Sawyer is cute. He’s actually very cute. And sexy as hell.”
“But he’s in a wheelchair,” my mom pressed as if the word wheelchair said it all. But I wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily.
“So?” I shot back.
My mom didn’t respond immediately. Then she said in her sickening sweet mom voice, “Maggie, I know you’ve had some self-esteem issues in the past. But you can do better than a guy in a wheelchair.”
Before I said something incredibly stupid that I’d regret, I quickly said, “Gotta go, Mom. Bye.” And hung up.
Tears started streaming down my face. Was I upset that my mom brought up my so-called self-esteem issues or was I upset that she basically completely dehumanized Sawyer because of his disability? Maybe it was both.
It never occurred to me that people would think I was settling by dating someone in a wheelchair. But it wasn’t just anyone, it was Sawyer Reed. Would other people have thoughts similar to my mom’s? People who didn’t know Sawyer Reed before his accident. It made me wonder what people saw when they meet him now. Did they just see him as a guy in a wheelchair?
Not that I had anything to worry about, apparently, because it didn’t seem like Sawyer was really interested in dating me anyway. Even though I’d given him my number, he hadn’t used it to call or text.
Yet.
I guess I spoke a little too soon because when I came back from the bathroom after washing the tears from my cheek, there was a text message waiting for me.
It was from Sawyer.
I hope you have a good night, Maggs. See you tomorrow.
No one had ever called me Maggs before. I kind of liked it.
Two
I hopped in my car, trying to balance two Cinnamon Dolce Lattes. A small gift for Sawyer. I didn’t really know whether he actually drank coffee, or if he liked the Cinnamon Dolce Latte but it was my favorite.
I placed the coffees in my cup holders and got the car started. I had eight minutes to make the ten minute trip to the lab. I didn’t want to be late for my second day on the job.
Of course, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men—they often go awry. This time my plans went completely and totally awry when I heard my phone buzz and I stupidly looked down for a split second to see who was texting me.
It was Sawyer, telling me not to be late because Dr. Weaver
was in the lab waiting to speak with us. I knew better than texting and driving but I wasn’t actually texting, I just looked down for a second to see who had texted me. Of course, it was a second too long because I hadn’t noticed the car in front of me slam on his breaks as the traffic came to a screeching halt. I managed to break but it was too little too late. I ended up hitting the car in front of me.
Things went from bad to God-awful when I realized the car I just hit was a City of Tucson police cruiser.
Shit, I thought. I’m in big trouble.
Before I had enough sense to put my phone somewhere other than in my hand, the police officer rapped on my window with his knuckles.
I slowly opened my window and gulped when I saw the look on his face. His jaw was set tight and his eyes were narrow slits.
“License, registration and proof of insurance,” he demanded through clenched teeth.
I let my phone slip onto my lap as I reached into my glove box for my registration card. Then I pulled my wallet from my purse and dug around until I retrieved my driver’s license and insurance card.
When I handed the police officer my credentials, my hand was shaking. He didn’t take any pity on me, though, and I couldn’t say I blamed him.
As he wrote on his small clipboard, he said, “Is there a reason you ran into the back of my car?”
When I looked up at him, he was staring at me. I knew I couldn’t lie. “I was distracted.”
“By what?” he prompted.
I heaved a sigh. “My phone.”
“That’s what I thought. You’re in a little trouble, Miss—” He looked down at my license. “Miss Mitchell.”
I tried to swallow but I was so nervous, my throat felt completely closed. The cop wasn’t a tall guy, but he was bulky, all muscle. And he was intimidating. His presence made him seem like a giant.
And it didn’t help that every time he looked at me, I felt like I was shrinking. I felt like a five year old being scolded by her first grade teacher.
“Where were you going?” he asked as he glanced into my car and spotted the coffees.
“Work,” I managed to say.
“Where do you work?”
“The Paleolimnology lab at the university.”
“Well, I suggest you phone them and let them know you’re going to be late. I’d also suggest phoning your insurance company.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He handed me back my license and registration. I picked up my cell from my lap and phoned Sawyer.
“Where are you?” I could hear anxiety in his voice. “Dr. Weaver already left.”
“I was in a car accident.”
“Oh my God,” he practically yelled. “Are you hurt? What do you need me to do?”
“I’m not hurt. Would you just let Dr. Weaver and Reese know that I probably won’t be in today.”
“Of course.”
“Hey, do you like Cinnamon Dolce Latte?” I asked.
“I love it. Why do you ask?”
“I got you one. As a little surprise. It’s cold now but at least it didn’t spill in the accident.”
“I appreciate the thought.”
“I’d better go,” I whispered. “The police officer is staring at me.”
“Will you phone me later? Please? I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Okay.”
When I ended the call, the police officer’s eyes narrowed. “Boyfriend?”
I shook my head. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I was talking to my lab partner.”
“If you say so.”
He pulled some papers from his clipboard and handed them to me. “You’ll need to pay the fine, attend traffic school or phone to schedule a court date. If you decide to go to court, you may want to consider bringing a lawyer with you.”
“My mom’s a lawyer.”
“Lucky you,” he snarled before he turned and headed back to his police cruiser.
I phoned my parents’ insurance agent. Because I was a full time college student, I was still under their policy. I swear he was stifling a laugh when I told him I rear-ended a police car.
My car still ran, so I didn’t have to call a tow truck. I decided it was probably in my best interest to drive right to the repair shop my parents frequented.
When I pulled in, I had the sinking feeling that the insurance agent had already phoned my mom and dad. Sure enough, my mom was waiting for me in the lobby of Jim’s Auto Body and Repair.
She didn’t look happy.
“This is going to raise our insurance rates, you know,” she stated as soon as I was close enough to hear her.
“I’m fine, Mom. Thanks for asking.”
“I knew you weren’t hurt or Al would have mentioned it.”
Al Rhodes had been my family’s insurance agent for years. I wasn’t surprised he phoned my mom the minute I got off the phone. I was just surprised at how quickly she got to the repair shop. One of the benefits of being your own boss, I suppose. She’s a one-woman law office.
“And I’m sure you’ll have some hefty fines to pay unless I can get the citation dismissed. We’ll see what judge you get when we get to court. Where’s the paperwork? I’ll have Lucy get the court date.”
Lucy Lee has worked as my mom’s assistant for as long as I can remember. I guess they were friends in college, until Lucy got pregnant and dropped out of school.
I pulled the papers the police officer had given me and handed them to her.
She inspected the papers carefully then said, “Following too closely. It’s a civil traffic violation. At least it’s not reckless driving, which is a criminal offense.”
“I really don’t think I was reckless,” I contended. “It was an accident.”
My mom nodded. “You can use your dad’s car until yours is fixed.”
“Thanks.”
My dad worked for many years as a civil engineer, took an early retirement package and now keeps himself occupied teaching online classes for several universities as an adjunct instructor.
I should have known my mom wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” she asked.
It had been a while since I’d seen my mom angry with me. The last time was probably when I was a freshman in high school and I got caught lying about having my period so I wouldn’t have to participate in swimming during Physical Education class. I really didn’t want to wear a swimsuit in front of my classmates, most of whom had filled out nicely and I was still flat as a board.
“I glanced down at my phone for just a minute and I didn’t notice the traffic had come to a stop.”
“Who was texting you?” She narrowed her eyes at me. I knew she already knew who I was going to say, she just wanted me to admit it.
“Sawyer Reed,” I confessed.
“Really, Maggie? I thought we talked about why you shouldn’t date him.”
“We’re not dating,” I insisted, although I realized I probably sounded like I was protesting too much. I calmed my voice and said, “He’s just my lab partner. He wanted to let me know that our boss, Dr. Weaver, had come in early.”
I knew she didn’t believe me and I had to admit, I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. But what would it mean if I was attracted to Sawyer? What would it be like to date someone in a wheelchair? I had to admit, the prospect both scared me and intrigued me at the same time.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to get—involved—with someone handicapped like that.”
“Disabled,” I chimed in.
My mom looked puzzled. “Handicapped, disabled, it means the same thing. He can’t walk.”
Nothing like stating the obvious. “I think the preferred term is a person with a disability.”
“The guy is confined to a wheelchair,” my mother stated as if it was something that never occurred to me.
“He uses a wheelchair. He’s not in prison. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t sleep in it.”
“And since when a
re you Miss Politically Correct?” My mom was now glaring at me.
“Never mind. We’re not dating. That’s all you need to know.”
“Can he even have children? Have you thought about that?”
I wished my mom would just let it go. “I’m twenty-one years old mom. I’m barely an adult myself. I haven’t even graduated college yet. I’m definitely not thinking about having kids.”
“I just don’t want you to make any choices you’ll regret later.”
“Mom, please. We knew each other in high school. Barely. We didn’t exactly run in the same social circles. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. He’s a little out of my league.”
My mother was now staring at me like I was insane. “Maybe he was out of your league in high school but I hardly think that’s the case now.”
“Why? Because he’s in a wheelchair?”
“Of course, because of the wheelchair.” My mom was now doing one of those loud whispers that people do when they know they’re saying something they shouldn’t be saying but they’re saying it any way. “I would think he’d be lucky to get any girl.”
I laughed. “I don’t get the impression he has any problems getting girls. He’s really good looking and quite charming. He hasn’t really changed all the much.”
My mom pursed her lips. “I knew you still liked him.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe I did still like him. Maybe I liked him a lot.
“It doesn’t matter, okay. We’re just lab partners and that’s all we’ll ever be.”
My mom wagged her finger at me. I hated it when she got the finger going. She did it a lot when I was a kid. “You deserve a lot better, Maggie. You deserve to have a whole man. You don’t have to settle for half of one.”
That could have been the worst thing I ever heard anyone say about another human being. I was actually embarrassed for my mother. Did she have any idea how ignorant she sounded? But I was done arguing with her. It was obvious she couldn’t see anything beyond his wheelchair.
And the funny thing was, I was starting to forget that Sawyer even used one.
***
“I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece,” Sawyer joked as I hurried into the lab.
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