Inherited Light

by Katie Mettner

  “That too,” I admitted. “They make a damn good paloma here, but it’s also strong enough to knock you back a few steps. I figure I better wait a bit before I drive.”

  The waitress reappeared and I signed the slip, adding a generous tip. She slipped the pad back in her apron and picked up the chair. “Would you like this at the bottom?”

  I nodded. “Yes, please, we would appreciate it, thank you.”

  She carried the lightweight chair down the stairs easily, and I got to hold Cat in my arms once again. She rested her hand on my chest and I could tell the alcohol had relaxed her when she rested her head next to her hand.

  “Can I trust you to carry me down the stairs after those palomas?”

  I inhaled the scent of her. She wore a flowery, fragrant perfume which hung in the air around us. “You can trust me never to hurt you, Cat,” I promised, carrying her down the stairs to the waiting chair. I lowered her into the seat and she adjusted herself until she was happy.

  She took my hand in hers. “I want to hold your hand, but the chair makes it hard. If you walk slowly I can keep up by pushing only one wheel.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I’ll walk as slow as you need me to go.”

  We strolled in companionable silence until we were down the path far enough we couldn’t see the restaurant any longer. There sat a bench under a lamplight and I gently tugged her with me toward it, so I could sit. Once I sat on the bench, I grabbed her chair and swung it around so our knees were touching before I locked the wheels. I took both of her hands in mine and leaned my forehead against hers. “I’ve had an amazing time tonight, Cat.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed, a smile lifting her lips. “I got a little worried when you showed up in the car, but I understand now.”

  I chuckled. “You decided I was some kind of spoiled little boy?”

  “Well, Cinn does refer to you as the baby all the time.”

  I sighed heavily and leaned back, without letting go of her hands. “It’s funny you mention that. I ran into my dad at the shelter when I picked up the car. He was quite concerned about me taking you out.”

  “The wheelchair,” she said quickly, dropping my hand to hold hers up. “I understand. I used to hear it all the time.”

  I took her hand which was flailing in the wind and lowered it again. “No, not the wheelchair. The age difference.”

  Her eyes went wide and then she grimaced. “He doesn’t think you can handle an older woman?”

  “I honestly don’t know why. I think it comes back around to being the baby of the family. They forgot to check and see if I grew up in the last twenty-four years.”

  “You seem all grown up to me,” she whispered. “I think they underestimate you.”

  “Oh, they do, but I guess it’s part of being the baby of the family.”

  “Probably also the reason you grew up faster and harder than most guys your age?”

  I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean most guys your age wouldn’t glance twice at me, much less take me out for the night.”

  “Then most guys my age are self-absorbed jerks. You have me tongue tied half the time. You’re smart, beautiful, crazy talented, and I’m so damn drawn to you I can’t figure out why.”

  “Maybe you’re drawn to me because it’s novel to date an older woman,” she suggested, but I shook my head.

  “No, that’s not it. I don’t even think about the age difference. I know you’re Cinn’s age, but it seems like the older we get the less it matters.”

  “Poetic,” she said, then stopped short of whatever else she was going to say.

  “No, just honest. My dad is worried about me in general. I’ve been out of college for a while and still don’t have a job.”

  “Aren’t you working at the shelter?” she asked and I rested her hands on my knees.

  I adjusted my tie, loosening it so I didn’t feel so confined, then picked up her hands again. “I am, but the job is temporary. Once I finish the addition, I’ll be out of work again.”

  “How much do you have left to complete?”

  “The way I figure it, a little less than two months, give or take, depending on how quickly the electricians and plumbers finish their work in the salon.”

  She held her hand out. “So, see, you have plenty of time to find more work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Want to tell my dad the same thing? He thinks if I don’t work for a big company I’ll never make anything of myself.”

  “Is he right?” she asked, stiffening up with those three words. It felt like she was defending my honor, to an unseen entity.

  “No, he’s not right, but I can’t tell him. I have to show him.”

  She nodded her agreement. “What’s your goal in life, Ren? What is it you want more than anything?”

  I let the smile come to my face. “Easy question to answer, Cat. I want to be happy. Does that sound cheesy?” I asked, but she shook her head no. “I grew up with Tabitha who was never happy and Cinn who had dozens of reasons to be unhappy, but was always happy. Well, most of the time.”

  Her hand slid up my face and she held it against my cheek. “What’s wrong with Cinn? Your texts last night said she was home and doing better.”

  I stared over her head toward the lake because I didn’t think I could talk about Cinn without sadness leaking out my eyes. “Cinn is having a hard time as reality has set in.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said quietly, still holding my face. “What’s the reality? She needs more medication? Isn’t she used to it by now?”

  I nodded, and her hand bobbed with my face in a synchronized dance. “Yes, but she’s been off this particular medication for nearly a year. They told her if she could stay off it, she might be able to have a baby. It would still be a high-risk pregnancy, but her doctors felt with the right formula of nutrition she could pull it off, if she didn’t relapse.”

  “And she has?” she asked.

  I ran a hand through my thick black hair. “Yeah, she has. The reason she’s been tired, the tube feedings have been uncomfortable, and she can’t swallow, which she didn’t tell anyone, is because the Crohn’s disease has gone up into her stomach and esophagus. She has to go back on the medication which absolutely precludes pregnancy.”

  She rubbed her thumb under my eye and I realized too late some of my sadness had leaked out anyway. I swiped away the tear on the other side and sucked in a deep breath through my nose.

  “I’m sorry, Lorenzo. I know you and Cinn are close. It’s hard to see the people we love hurting.”

  I let out the breath I was holding and answered. “I had to leave because she was so despondent I didn’t know how to comfort her. She went from being upbeat and happy one minute to laying in Foster’s arms crying the next. It was more than I could handle, not only experiencing her pain, but her husband’s as he wore a look of searing heartbreak with each sob to tear from her body. She wanted to do this one thing for them, and she couldn’t.” I stared up at the sky and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I thought I processed the whole scene, but I guess not.”

  “Don’t apologize for having feelings, Ren. You would have to be one cold-hearted man not to react this way to your sister’s pain. I’m sorry. I know how much she loves Foster and how destroyed she must be to have this setback.”

  “He told me last night her problems started only a few months after they took her off the drug. She wouldn’t eat at night, and switched to Ensure drinks. At the time, she said it was because of the stress from dealing with Tabitha’s deception and Mabel’s death, but now he can see she never should have gone off her medication. So, on top of her pain, he’s beating himself up and feeling guilty for not taking her to the doctor sooner.”

  “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty,” she soothed.

  I took her hands again and kissed her knuckles. “I know, but I’m going to stop talking about it now so I don’t ruin the whole evening. I’ve enjoyed myself too much.”


  “I’ve had a great time too, and you’re welcome to unload on me as much as you need to. I don’t think sharing your feelings ruins anything. In fact, I would say it gives me a glimpse into the man you really are. You said you want to be happy, but happiness is defined many ways. What’s your definition?”

  I smiled and held her gaze again, finally. “It’s simple, actually. I want a job to fulfill me intellectually, and a woman who fulfills me emotionally and physically. I want a little house near a park where I can take my wife and hopefully, someday, a couple of Little Leaguers to swing and play. If I had those things I would be happy for the rest of my life.”

  “Little Leaguers?” she asked and I chuckled.

  “I coach Little League on Saturday mornings. I love spending time with the kids. It makes me feel like I make a difference in their lives. I guess it’s my way of saying I want kids.” I shrugged and she smiled at my explanation.

  “It’s a good way to express why you want kids. You enjoy teaching them things about life, and nothing teaches kids about the ups and downs of life more than baseball. What kind of job do you think will fulfill you?”

  “Honestly?” I asked, and she whispered, ‘of course’. “I want to learn the trade, and eventually teach carpentry for a vocational college. First, I have to put the time in and learn everything I can.”

  “And you don’t think you’ll be able to learn everything working for a big company?”

  I let the left side of my lips tip up. “How’d you guess?”

  “The tone of your voice, the set of your shoulders when you answered my question earlier, and the way I can see you working through in your mind how to rebuild my wheelchair ramp so it’s safe and easier to use.”

  My mouth dropped open a little bit and she laughed; the sound was melodic, but stimulating in such a way all I wanted to do was kiss her.

  “How did you know?” I asked and she waved her hand at me, crossing her arms on her lap.

  “You’re a carpenter and I could see if it had been any other day you would have started ripping boards off and shoring the whole thing up. Honestly, the ramp almost stopped me from saying yes to dinner. I suspected you would feel obligated to fix it once you used it.”

  “I don’t feel obligated,” I said, shaking my head. “Not at all, because obligation infers fixing the ramp would be some kind of moral duty of mine to save the damsel in distress in the house. You’re not a damsel in distress, not by a long shot. No, I don’t feel obligated, but I am going to fix the ramp. I care about you, and I won’t rest if I’m worried about your safety when you use it. There are a lot of emotions swirling in me right now, but obligation isn’t one of them.”

  She leaned forward and rested her head on my chest. “You have the most unique outlook on life, Mr. Dalton.”

  I let my arms go around her back and I held her lightly, but with enough force to imply I truly enjoyed hugging her. “I hope that’s a good thing,” I answered.

  She gazed up at me, and the overhead light caught the gold flecks in her eyes, making them dance. “It’s a very good thing,” she whispered as my lips lowered to hers for the first time.

  I rolled her up the ramp slowly, wanting to prolong the last few moments of our time together as much as possible. She unlocked the door while I held her chair, so it didn’t roll backward, and then helped her into the house. She spun quickly, grabbing my wrist so I couldn’t leave. “Do you have to go, or do you have time for a nightcap?”

  I knelt again and all I could think of was the kiss by the lake. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from doing it again. “I have time for a nightcap if it’s sans alcohol. I have to drive back to Little Ivywood yet.”

  “I have some 7-UP for just the occasion,” she said, motioning me toward the couch. I sat while she disappeared, my senses telling me offering to help would only insult her when she was perfectly capable of getting a couple of cans of pop from the fridge.

  She rolled back in and handed me the cans, then swung herself up on the couch next to me. She took a can and we both opened them, clicking the metal cans together before taking a sip. I glanced at the can as I lowered it.

  “It sure doesn’t have the zip of a paloma, does it?” I joked. She snorted, and pop flew out her nose, causing both of us to break into a fit of laughter. I jumped up off the couch and grabbed a towel from the kitchen, handing it over so she could clean herself up.

  “It has some zip when it goes through your sinuses,” she said laughing, when she could speak again. “Thanks for taking me out tonight, Ren. I had such a good time.”

  She laid her hand on my thigh and I put mine over hers. “Thanks for taking a chance on this kid from Little Ivywood. Maybe you should start calling me Lorenzo. It might make me seem less like your friend’s little brother.”

  She set the can down on the table next to the couch. “On the contrary, maybe I call you Ren because I never forgot you. You may have been my friend’s little brother, but you were your own you, and I respected the heck out of you for putting up with all those girls in the house, and being their protector even when they didn’t want you to. If it’s all the same to you, I like Ren.”

  I nodded once and grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t look at it that way.”

  “Well, you know what they say, there are two sides to every coin,” she pointed out.

  I shook my head a little bit. “I’m embarrassed I can’t remember anything about you from when we were kids other than your laugh, your art, your eyes, and your sweet, curly hair. I’ve been trying to conjure an image of you from back then, but the only thing I see is you sitting in the front room of the shelter, with those beautiful brown eyes and those plump lips.”

  “Considering the awkwardness of my teenage years, I don’t mind if you don’t remember much about me from when we were kids. I think you remembered what was important.”

  I wiped my hands on my pants legs and nodded. “I guess I did. Well, I suppose I better be heading back to Little Ivywood. Are you going to be around tomorrow?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

  “I’ll be here most of the day tomorrow, but Monday night I’m having a gallery showing, so I’ll be there all day.”

  “A gallery showing of….” I left it open because I didn’t want to put my foot in it again tonight.

  She laughed softly. “Yes, of my artwork. I always do a show in early summer of the work I’ve done since the Christmas show. I would love it if you could stop by.”

  I picked up her hand and patted it between mine. “I would love to stop in and see your work. I have to admit I hoped to catch a glimpse of it here, but your walls are decidedly lacking.”

  She laughed awkwardly. “Honestly, it feels incredibly egotistical to hang your own art on your walls. Besides, hanging pictures from a wheelchair tends to make it resemble a romper room for a four-year-old.”

  I attempted to hold in my laughter, but it spilled out and I leaned forward, kissing her cheek. “Beautiful and a sense of humor. I’m in heaven.”

  She shrugged. “You learn humor quickly, trust me.”

  “I would love to trust you, but I have an awkward question I haven’t known how to ask,” I said. I noticed her expression changed from enjoyment to guarded, maybe almost resigned. “I ran into someone today who told me I should cancel our date because you already had a man.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “What? I don’t have a man, not by a long shot.”

  “Xavier Carellton seems to think you do,” I said, dropping the name to see her reaction.

  She immediately sucked in air and crossed her arms over her chest. “Where on earth did you run into Xavier?” she asked. I couldn’t tell if her tone of voice was curious, accusing, or scared.

  “I coach youth baseball for Little Ivywood and he coaches for Martindale. Our two teams played each other today. Somehow, he found out I had a date tonight and suggested I cancel it. He said you already have a man and don’t need another one.”

  She la
ughed sarcastically and shook her head in disgust. “Xavier is nothing but a loud, arrogant blow hard who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. I wouldn’t date him if he was the last man on earth and it was only us left to repopulate. The human race would die off before I dated him again.”

  I snorted with laughter, but hoped she understood I wasn’t laughing at her. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” I asked, jokingly. “Needless to say, I didn’t cancel our date, even though he threatened to kill me.”

  “He what?!” she exclaimed loudly. “He threatened to kill you in front of kids?”

  I nodded. “He did, and I had to clear it up with the team and their parents while we ate pizza. Did you two have a relationship?”

  “Hell, no!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Do you really think I would date a puke like him?”

  I laid my hand on her leg. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t think you’d still be dating him, but we all make mistakes when we’re young.”

  “Well, I guess you’ve got me there. I did go out with him right after high school. By the end of the night, I was referring to him in my head as ‘the groper’ because he wouldn’t keep his hands off me. Over the years, he’s wanted to engage me again, but there’s no way I would go out with him. He’s so much bigger than me now he could do whatever he wanted and I would be useless to stop it.”

  “You’re scared of the guy,” I deduced and she nodded, her eyes telling me how much.

  “He’s volatile, which is what worries me. Now I’m worried about you.”

  I squeezed her knee gently. “I can take care of myself, Cat. I think he’s all bark and no bite anyway, but I don’t think you should risk talking to Xavier. He seems to think you’re his girl, which is exactly how he described you to me.”

  She brushed her hand at me. “He’s been acting this way for almost ten years, so don’t worry about it, I’ll be okay. Can we stop talking about him now? I feel like he’s ruining our nice time.”

  I caressed her face with my hand and let it fall to the couch. “Who’s he?” I asked, winking. “I had a fantastic time tonight, and I asked about your plans because I want to stop over tomorrow and check out the ramp with you in the daylight. Maybe I can shore it up and give it a few more months of life.”