I grinned and kissed her hand again. “Good, because I think about you all the time.” I kept the smile on my face, but groaned inwardly. Why did I tell her that? To cover, I pointed backward. “You have time to put it by your bed before we leave, if you want. I need to repair the board on your wheelchair ramp. I kind of broke it.”
“Is that why you were bent over out there staring at the ramp?” she asked.
I was blushing, but it didn’t matter, I had to tell her the truth. “Funny story, I caught the toe of my dress shoe in a board. When I attempted to fix it, the whole board popped off in my hand.”
She nodded as though I wasn’t telling her anything new. “I know, the ramp is falling apart, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t even have a hammer.”
I chuckled. “I have one in the back of my car. I’ll grab it and a couple nails. I’ll have the board back in place in no time. It seems like the whole structure needs some work, but I’ll come a different day when I’m not dressed up and inspect it.”
She watched me closely until I finished speaking. “Why do you kneel next to me?”
I shrugged unsure of myself, finally forcing my lips to open and my brain to force out words. “I kneel because we’re equals and I love the way your eyes hold mine when we talk. I respect you Cat, so if you don’t want me to kneel, I won’t.”
She shook her head slowly and fussed with the metal strap on her purse. “I…no…it’s just, well, no one has ever bothered to get down at my level to hold a conversation before. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”
I gave her one head nod. “I’m glad I could be the first then. If you wait here I’ll fix the board so you can get down the ramp safely.”
I stood and she waved somewhat unsure of herself as I left the house. I stepped over the empty hole and jogged to the back of the BMW. I grabbed my small emergency toolbox I kept in the car and used the hammer to pry out the old nails. If the board split when I hammered new, strong nails into the wood, I’d be screwed. If the beam split, I would be carrying her out the back door, because it would render this rickety ramp useless.
I aligned the board again and once it was as flat as I could get it, I pounded in one nail on each side, below the old nail holes. The ramp braces kept splintering and I had to find part of the frame to hold the nail tightly. It seemed easier said than done. When I got one nail in on each side, I let out a sigh of relief. At least I managed to replace the board. I took another nail and pounded it in right below the first two nails. When I didn’t hear splintering or cracking, I took it as a victory and stood, putting the hammer back in the box and closing it.
I tested the board and while it held my weight, I would be careful to avoid it for tonight. Her chair going up and down wouldn’t break it, because she didn’t weigh much, and the weight would be distributed to the outside of the ramp. As long as the wheels on the front of her chair don’t catch on it she’ll be fine. I set the toolbox in the corner of the ramp and brushed my hands off, going back in the door.
I held my hands up to show her. “Mind if I wash my hands before we go?”
“Not at all, thank you so much,” she said as she rolled toward the kitchen. “The board has been a problem for my chair.”
“Piece of cake,” I answered. Her sink was lower than most sinks and I quickly realized it was at a wheelchair user’s height. When I looked around earlier I noticed the countertops were lower as well. It didn’t leave as much space in the cabinets below, but she could safely cook in the kitchen without hurting herself. “This is super cool,” I said, spinning in a circle.
When I got back around to face her she was blushing. “Thank you. I’m sort of embarrassed to admit I’ve spent a lot of money on the inside of the house making it handicapped friendly. My bathroom has been completely redone, too.”
I dried my hands after washing them and swiveled toward her. “Why does it embarrass you? I think what you’ve done in here is wonderful, and useful. I think it was a good way to spend your money.”
“The interior seemed more important than the exterior of the home, but now I need to save to pay for the upkeep on the rest of the house. I can’t save at the rate it is falling into disrepair, but I’ll do the most important jobs first and wait on the rest.”
I leaned down and braced my hands on my knees. “If it would help I’d be glad to come over and give you an idea of what has to be done now and what could wait. I’m not angling for the work, don’t worry, it’s just a way to use my skills to help a friend.”
She held my gaze and smiled. “I would appreciate it, Ren, but only if you have time.”
I threw caution to the wind and kissed her cheek. “For you, I always have time.”
Her smile got bigger with my kiss. “Great, I’ll take you up on your offer then.”
I stood up straight and pointed at the door. “If you’re ready, we should probably head out before they give our reservation away.”
She wheeled toward the front door and I opened it, allowing her to pass me, and then closed and locked the front door. She rolled down the ramp carefully, and I noted how the whole right side of it moved in a wave as she rolled down. The frame barely had any life left in it. I realized it wasn’t just in need of repair. It needed to be torn down. The thing was downright dangerous.
I trod carefully as I walked down it and met her at the bottom. She seemed uncomfortable and I leaned down and cocked my head. “What’s wrong?”
She pointed to my car, her hand palm up as though she was trying to be nonchalant. “You’ll need to move your car so we can take my van. I thought you were driving your truck.”
I shook my head a little and put my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t pick a lady up for dinner in a greasy work truck. I pick her up in a ride worthy of her beauty.”
Her shoulders sank and she shook her head. “Thoughtful of you, Ren, but the truck would have had a place for my wheelchair.”
“As does my car. There’s a backseat and your chair comes apart. It will be fine.”
She stared at the car for a moment, biting her lower lip while she decided if she could trust me. It made my groin clench to watch her worrying her lip back and forth and I had to make her stop.
“I’ll put you in the front seat and the chair can go behind the driver’s seat. It breaks down, right?” I asked.
She finally let go of her lip to answer and I almost sighed audibly. “The wheels come off and the back folds down if you take the cushion off, but it won’t break down any further.”
“Cat,” I said and she trained her attention on me. “Do you trust me?”
“Can I trust you?” she asked and I nodded, forcing a smile to my face so she lost the fear on hers.
“You can trust me, Cat. I have nothing but good intentions. I want you to have fun tonight, not second guess everything we’re going to do because of the chair. Trust I have your safety and comfort in mind, okay?”
She nodded and wheeled toward the car, stopping by the passenger side. “This is a BMW. I don’t think you want my dirty chair in the back of your car, Ren.”
I hit the unlock button on the key fob and pushed her chair the rest of the way past the door, so I could open it. “I don’t care if your chair is dirty, Cat. I can wash the car. Now, your chariot awaits. May I lift you into the seat?”
She handed me her purse and I set it in the car on the floor. She scooted forward in the chair and waited.
“Ready?” I asked and she nodded her answer. I scooped her up and gently sat her in the seat, her tiny figure hardly filling it. “I’ll take this around to the other side and you can tell me if I’m taking it apart right.”
I closed her door firmly, glad I finally had her in the car after her misgivings. She zipped the seatbelt across her chest while I opened my door and popped the handle to fold my seat forward. I set the cushion from the wheelchair on the backseat and she told me how to take the wheels off the chair. Once they were gone, I folded its back down and rest
ed it on the floor of the car with the caster wheels pointing up. The car clearly wasn’t going to get dirty from her chair. I tugged my seat upright and slid in, closing my door.
I glanced toward her and grinned. “See, piece of cake. Are you ready for an enjoyable evening?” I asked as I started the car and buckled in.
“I think I would enjoy doing nothing but riding around in this car, it’s so luxurious.”
I backed out of the driveway and put it into drive, heading back toward town. “We’re driving toward Little Ivywood a bit, so you have plenty of time to enjoy it,” I said, turning the jazz station down low enough you could barely hear it over the hum of the car.
“Where did you get a car like this?” she asked and I peeked at her and then back to the road.
“I know, most almost twenty-four-year-old guys don’t have a BMW coupe, right?”
She laughed softly. “Most fifty-four-year-old guys don’t have a BMW coupe.”
I gave her the point by holding out my hand and she slapped it gently, the way we used to when we were kids. “I inherited the car from Mabel. She left each of us something. Cinn got the house, Tabitha got the family jewelry, and I got the car.”
“Sounds like Mabel had to know a little bit about you if she left you her car.”
“Interestingly enough, she didn’t know me well. For the most part Mabel passed through our lives like a ship heading out to sea. The only one of us who really spent very much time with her was Cinn. They managed to form some sort of bond. Mabel rarely made attachments, to people or things. This car meant nothing to her other than a way to get from point A to point B.”
She swiveled in her seat to gaze at me. “Why do you call her Mabel?”
“It’s what she wanted us to call her. She said calling her grandma meant she was old,” I said, shaking my head a little bit. “She was a real character.”
“It sounds like it from the stories you and Cinn tell,” she agreed. “I wonder if she did form attachments, but in a way most normal people don’t, so what you experienced as aloofness was actually how she loved.”
“It’s possible. She’s been gone a few years now, and as you know, she was murdered or she might be with us still.”
“You said at the dog park she was killed, but I wonder why the papers didn’t report it more in depth.”
I turned onto the highway and babied the accelerator to get the car up to speed without sucking gas. “We asked they respect her privacy, and ours. Mabel made some enemies in her day and broadcasting her murder might give some of them an opportunity to start sniffing around again. With Cinn living in Mabel’s house, we didn’t think it would be a good idea. The police offered Malik a plea bargain. If he pleaded guilty to attempted murder and blackmail, they wouldn’t charge him with murder in the first degree. There were multiple other charges against him anyway, and he was going down. He took the plea and no one ever questioned who the attempted murder charge was on. Most people assumed Tabby, and we didn’t correct them. There was no trial, since he pled guilty, and he will be in jail for at least thirty years. Since he was sixty when he went in, it doesn’t look good for him getting out alive.”
She laid her hand on my bare arm and a sense of comfort passed over me. “I’m sorry, Ren. I had no idea how bad things were then. I only reconnected with Cinn a few months ago.”
“Thanks, but the whole situation has made us a stronger, closer family. Since moving into Mabel’s house, Cinn has discovered pieces of her life we never knew existed. Mabel never had much time for sentimentality, but Cinn keeps finding little things here and there. Last year she found photos Mabel took during the years she worked at the shelter. Cinn and Foster framed them and displayed them at the carnival.”
She had her hands on her lap now, and I missed the warmth of her hand on my arm. “I remember the display on the wall of the shelter. I told her how eye-catching it was. I offered to host it in my gallery, but she didn’t want to. She said the images belonged to the shelter and it’s where they belonged.”
I signaled left and held my hand out, resting it on her diminutive thigh. “Wait, what? Your gallery?”
She chuckled, her head back and her smile wide. “I’m an artist, Ren. What did you think I do with my work?”
“I know you sell it, but I didn’t know you had a whole gallery,” I said honestly.
“I own Crow’s Feet Gallery on Vine Street in Little Ivywood,” she explained and the name hit me in a moment of recognition.
“I had no idea,” I said, laughing. “I drive by it all the time. It’s on my way to my apartment above Miss Mary’s Café. Oh, but you already know where I live.” I sighed at myself for always being a dork.
“I love her empanadas,” she said. “Maybe we can have lunch there one day soon?”
I grinned. “Sure, it’s a date, but first we have to have this date,” I laughed and she giggled, clearing her throat at the last minute so it didn’t sound girlish.
“You make a good point, where are we going?”
“More like, we’re here,” I said, steering the car into the parking lot and letting it idle in the parking space.
“Oh, Coronado’s Cantina. I love their blue cheese and steak tamales,” she said, excitedly.
“You do get around, don’t you?” I joked and she shrugged.
“Cooking for one kind of sucks, don’t you think?”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “Why do you think I live above Miss Mary’s?” I asked with a wink.
“I don’t like eating alone,” she ruminated. “I rarely eat when I’m home alone. I guess I need to think about a dog. I’m far too lonely in the house by myself these days.”
My next move was impetuous and out of character, but I did it anyway. I unbuckled her seatbelt and tugged her toward me into a hug, cursing the console which kept me from hugging her completely.
“I know exactly how you feel. Sometimes the loneliness overwhelms me.”
Her arms came around me tentatively. “Sometimes the loneliness makes me wonder if tomorrow is worth it. Sometimes I have to leave the house and go where there are people because sitting with my head in my hands crying doesn’t make the loneliness go away.”
“Ah, sweetheart,” I sighed, rubbing her back. “You’ve got me now. All you have to do is call and I’ll be there.”
“I would like that,” she admitted. “Sometimes all I need is to hear a friendly voice on the other end of the line. It’s one of the reasons I stopped being a hermit and started reaching out to friends from high school again.”
I leaned back and took her chin in my hand. “I want to hear more, but we should go in first, since I’m sure we’re already late.”
“Right,” she agreed. “The tamales are waiting.”
I opened my door and pushed my seat forward again, taking out the chair and doing everything in reverse. I closed my door and rolled the chair around, opening her door. “I can transfer if you put the chair right next to the seat.”
I positioned the chair farther back and she glanced at me with one brow raised toward her forehead.
“And give up the chance to have you in my arms again? Not going to happen,” I said, winking.
She picked up her purse and set it on her lap, then waited for me to scoop her out. I cradled her for only a moment before I set her in the chair. I closed the door and stood behind her. “Just so you know, I used every speck of willpower I had to set you down instead of hold you against me for the rest of the night.”
I grabbed the chair and pushed it past the car so she could reach the hand rims before I let it go. I didn’t see her face, but I would bet my BMW there was a smile on it.
Chapter Six
I laid my napkin down and picked up my glass, sipping the tangy paloma, and enjoying the tartness of the grapefruit juice. Surprisingly, it paired nicely with the variety tray of tamales we shared. When we arrived to the hostess station, she offered us a table on the patio overlooking Lake Blue Shade. Unfortunately, there was
no way for Cat to get her chair on the patio without a ramp. I took care of it easily, by lifting her into my arms again and carrying her to a seat, then carrying her chair up and setting it next to the table. She hadn’t stopped smiling the entire evening as we talked and ate as though we had known each other for years.
“I know you want to ask,” she finally said when she laid her fork down.
“Ask what?” I hoped my face conveyed the confusion inside me.
“Why I’m in the chair,” she said, pointing at the sleek, black and gold chair which was practically an extension of her. It hugged her every curve and she barely needed to touch the rims to keep the chair going. Of course, she weighed nothing, which probably helped with how smooth and exquisite she was in it.
“Oh,” I said, leaning forward to set my glass down. “Actually, it hasn’t crossed my mind at all. Either I’m unobservant or else you’re at ease with yourself.”
She laughed a little, but I could tell it was an uncomfortable laughter. “I think it means you’re either lying or—”
“Or I don’t care,” I finished. Her expression changed to confusion and I realized how it sounded. I took her hand and held it tightly. “What I meant is, it doesn’t matter to me why you’re in the chair. I’m enjoying myself and I think you’re enjoying yourself too, right?”
She nodded as the waitress approached us to clear our plates. “Did you enjoy your meal?” she asked, as she stacked the plates on a tray.
“It was lovely,” Cat said. “You always have the most diverse tamales. They taste like the kind my abuela used to make.”
The waitress beamed with pride. “Thank you for sharing how much you enjoyed them. I’ll pass your appreciation on to Chef Coronado,” she said, as I slipped her my card to pay for the meal. “The secret is the banana leaves we wrap them in. Gives them a little added something other tamales don’t have.” She hoisted the tray to her shoulder and promised to be right back.
Inherited Light_A Small-Town, California Romance Filled with Dogs, Deception, and Finding True Love Despite Our Imperfections Page 6
