by RJ Heaton
“Nikki?” I about jump out of my own skin. The deep vibrating tones of his voice have my face shading every color of crimson. I was so preoccupied waiting for some beautiful woman to walk in that I hadn’t even seen him come up to my table.
“Yes,” I hesitantly say.
“Shad Libman.” He holds his hand out to me to shake. The wrong hand. I reach out with my left arm and shake his hand awkwardly.
I could kick Lance right now … if he was still alive. Why hadn’t he told us about his army buddy, Shad? Especially, how hot he is. I watch as he smoothly moves around the table and pulls out the chair across from me. He smiles at me after he places his wet jacket on the back of the chair next to him and then takes his seat. “Thank you for meeting me.” I smile back at him nervously. I’m beginning to think maybe I should have taken Heather up on her offer to come with me. At least maybe she could act like a composed woman next to this unnerving hottie. I may not be so restrained and calm.
“I am a bit surprised though.”
“About?” I ask quizzically.
“Well … every time Lance mentioned you, he made it sound like you were just some kid sister. He never told me how stunning you are.” If I thought I was ten shades red a few seconds ago, my face has to be brighter than the surface of the sun now.
“Umm, well … thank you. But I was older than Lance, so technically he was my kid brother.” I’m making a fool of myself now. I grab my drink and take a long pull. His eyes are a warm melted chocolate, and they are staring at me. I put my glass down. I can do this. “Lance never mentioned you.”
“No? Not even as Ramp?”
Ramp … Ramp, I hum the name to myself and then it happens. “You’re Ramp?”
He gives me an impish smile. “It goes with the territory I guess. Somehow we all end up with some kind of call name.
“You’re crazy! I’ve heard some extreme stories about you.”
He simply shrugs his massive shoulders. “Don’t believe everything you hear. Lance could exaggerate a little.” We both laugh. Lance did like to tell stories. Well at least to his close friends. He was a bit on the shy side to people he didn’t know all that well.
“God, I miss him.” I blurt out.
“What happened?” He asks, his voice solemn.
Relaxing around him more now that I can at least compartmentalize him with a name that Lance talked about, I take another drink. But this time it’s because this margarita is tasting amazing, not to calm my overactive nerves. I take a deep breath and start from the beginning of that night. I don’t know this stranger sitting across this dark wood table, but inside I know that we have a connection. Lance was both of our friends, or rather family. I start by telling him about Sarah and how we were trying to find a nice girl for Lance. This seems to make him happy or at least that’s what I assume his smile is about. I was trying so hard to get his buddy Lance hooked up. I then tell him about walking in on my husband Sean with Sarah (the nice girl I thought her to be) bent over a table in a dark room. I see Shad repulse in horror.
“Not to interrupt, but your ex is a super fool.”
“How do you mean?”
“No man in his right mind would possibly ever want to cheat on you.” I swallow hard and pick up my empty glass for a distraction.
“Do you need another?” I nod, feeling lost for words. I watch him from the corner of my eye as he walks up to the bar. The dark blue jeans envelope around his thighs like a perfectly wrapped package. His tight little behind cupped and tucked … I shake my head and turn away. I have to focus. Yes, the man is nice to look at, but he is here to get some closure for his lost friend. Besides, he’s just being overly friendly, probably because he feels sorry for me that I’m in a wheelchair. The discouragement snakes through my mind.
Shad brings back two drinks one for me and one for himself. “Thank you,” I simply say and take a sip. “What does Ramp stand for?” I’m beginning to like his carefree soft chuckles.
“The guys in my unit always said, “I was ramped up”. Before a mission or even daily workouts. They’d call out, “hey Libman you ramped up and ready for this?” or “damn Libman why you so ramped?” It became a daily ritual no matter what we were doing and then it just stuck.”
“Does that mean you have a lot of energy then?” I shut my mouth realizing how that must sound, but I am instantly blessed with a full toothy smile that makes his entire face light up.
“I suppose you could say that. I’m a little on the competitive side.”
“Winning hasn’t been one of my top priorities. I usually take the back seat to things … and people.” Shad gives me a pensive look.
“You know, I met Sean a couple of times. From what I can tell … it’s him that’s chosen the short straw. If you don’t mind me saying, you’re not missing out on much. The guy was kind of a douche. I had always wondered why Lance was such good friends with him, but now I think the reason was because of you. You’re a good person from what I’ve seen so far. Oh, and from what Lance has said about you.”
“And what did he say about me?” I know Lance thought highly of me. That fact was never hidden. He truly was my brother. We stood behind one another all the way to the end I guess.
“Good things, I promise.” He looks up at the dingy ceiling. “If I remember clearly, you are a chef—and a darn good chef.” This I’m not ashamed of. I love being in a kitchen and I would have to agree with Lance’s opinion—I’m very good at it.
“I haven’t had many complaints.” I smile like it’s a challenge.
“Hmm, might just have to prove it.” My belly does a little flip with the salacious look he is giving me.
He coughs and clears his throat, “Now, Sean on the other hand…”
“Well, it’s over now.” I flatly say and then he does something that surprises me. Shad stretches across and gently lays his hand over mine. I look at our hands. It’s such a simple gesture … a consoling, caring gesture. Before we get too sidetracked, I pretend to cough and pull my hand up to cover my mouth. After my fake cough, I continue with my story of the events that horrible night. I tell Shad how Lance and I took off from the banquet and the winter blizzard swirling around us, and then I tell him of every second up to the moment I could hear the crunching metal reverberating through my ears.
I don’t conceal the heartbreaking pain that is pouring down in the form of tears. The moment is unbearable for me to keep reliving, but it’s a moment in time that will forever be etched into my memories.
Shad gets up from his chair and scoots it over closer to me. His heavy arms wrap around me and I sag into them letting him hold my physical and emotional weight, I feel him move slightly and brush his own cheek—he’s crying too.
“I’m so sorry Nikki.” His words embrace around me like a rock-solid hug.
“He died right next to me.” I cry harder, letting the weight of everything I’ve been carrying—all out.
Time slows and it’s unknown just how long we’ve been sitting like this, but after my tears dry, my eyes redden and my nose becomes stuffy. I sit up. “I’m sorry.”
His apologetic eyes tell me that my pain is not alone. He clears his throat, “And the wheelchair?” I hadn’t even got to that part. I had fallen apart over the loss of Lance which in my mind is far worse than my situation.
“The next day, I woke up in a hospital bed.” I laugh, “Well, in my mind it was the next day, but I had been in a coma for two months. There were only bits and pieces of recollection of the accident. It had felt just like the very next day. Man, it was so weird when I found out how much I had missed. The worst part when I woke, I had no use of my right arm or right leg. So, this is my life now,” I sweep my hand over the arm of my wheelchair. “The doctors told me that I was extremely lucky. The metal had bent like thin tin buckling and folding. Some of that metal pierced through my leg here.” I rub my leg where I can feel the raised scar under my black dress pants. “There was a large piece that had sliced right through
my chair near my head. If I had been shifted only centimeters to the right …” I shiver thinking about how close I really had been to losing my life.
“Wow, you are lucky. Guess it wasn’t your time yet.” I snigger. If there is some larger plan for me, then I’m being left in the dark—blind.
“Are the doctors hopeful?”
“I suppose. They keep telling me that I should get most of my movement back. The problem is I have a few loose wires up here.” I pat my head. “I hit my head hard. I’m starting to have my doubts that things will return to normal.” I know that I haven’t been trying all that hard. I should be going to therapy, but I’m a stupid little chicken. I sigh.
“This is a tad embarrassing to say, but things were getting better for a little while. I was to the point where I could stand on my own and I was close to being able to move my arm above my head, but one morning I woke up and it was all gone again.”
“Just out of the blue?”
“Kind of.”
Shad lifts his eyebrows and his milk chocolate eyes bore into my greens with question. “Kind of? Do you want to elaborate?” Damn this guy. Does he think he’s my counselor now? Ugh.
He keeps staring intently. “Fine,” I huff. “I met someone. I thought maybe it might work—it didn’t, and the next day—nothing.”
Shad leans back in his chair stretching out his long muscular legs and then rubs at his chin in thought. “Sounds to me like you have a mental paralysis.”
“What? It is not. I had a brain injury.” I grab my glass and finish another drink off—my temper rising. How dare he tell me this is all in my mind? He doesn’t know me from Adam, and here he is telling me his what … medical opinion. Men!
“Do you mind if I try something?” His smirk is irritating me. Before I can tell him to go to hell, he leans over and plants a kiss straight on my lips. The action catches me off guard, but he doesn’t pull back. He continues to search my lips for entrance.
I want to fight this arrogant man and not give in. His lips are so supple and his warm breath gently sweeps over my skin. I close my eyes and escape into the feeling of his mouth covering mine. I part my lips giving him permission to enter. My senses overload with the sweet and sour, lime margarita flavors and his beer lingering breath as our tongues tango to their own beat. My heart rate quickens as the kiss intensifies with crashing desire.
I have no clue what I am doing. Is this a dream? I don’t kiss random men I don’t even know. Am I this needy? I’m free falling straight off a rock face cliff. I pull back and take large pulls of oxygen.
“How’d that work?”
“Huh?” I ask still dumbfounded that he kissed me.
He smirks and points at my arm. “Did that happen to bring back any life to your arm?” I look down at my hand and wiggle my fingers.
“Oh look it did.” He exclaims thinking he had come up with some miracle cure for me.
“That’s what your goal was with that … that kiss?” I breathe out heavy feeling exasperated.
“Well, did it work?”
“Really?” The realization of his plan stings, but I should have known it was nothing more. I look back down at my hand. “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. Right now, my entire body is buzzing from head to toe. The kiss knocked me senseless, but it also caused a sting of remorse. I feel like I just betrayed Ethan with that kiss. He’s with Simone. My mind yells at me, but for some reason, I don’t one hundred percent trust my own thoughts right now.
Shad leans closer to my ear, “Sorry. I usually don’t come onto beautiful women in that fashion. I just couldn’t help myself.” He winks and then gets up from our table and heads into the male restroom … leaving me even more confused.
Twelve
“You made it out alive I see.”
“I told you I would be fine.” The memories of last night crash like a tidal wave in my head. He kissed me and then brought me home with nothing else happening. It was weird. Did he like me or was he trying to distract me enough to see if he was some miracle worker—this morning I’m still not walking. Some miracle worker he is.
“So, was it awkward?” funny she would ask that, but I’m not telling Heather about any of that.
“Really we just talked about Lance. They seemed to have a good friendship.”
“You’ve never met him before?” I shake my head no.
“But I guess he has met Sean before.”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise, “Really?”
“Yeah, I heard a few stories about him, but when he called he said his name is Shad. The stories I heard about were his alter ego Ramp, or his nickname I was so aptly told about. I didn’t know that Shad is Ramp.”
“Ramp?” she questions.
“I guess he has some built in energy.” I laugh.
“Sounds interesting.”
“Guess you could say that.” I take a sip of my coffee reminiscing about his lips.
“Any plans for this fine Saturday?”
I look over the rim of my coffee cup, “just spend some quality time with my spectacular family.” She smiles back at me.
***
Feeling nostalgic after talking to Ramp/Shad last night, I asked Heather if she could get out her old photo albums.
I dig through the photos and sprawl them all over the living room floor … and for some reason I pull out my old wedding photos. We looked so full of love and happiness.
“Wowza!” That hair and those bridesmaid dresses. What on earth had I been thinking?
“Whoa, Mom. Look how thin you were.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Lexie slaps me on the shoulder, “I mean you look amazing now, but in this picture, you almost look anorexic. I think you look much better now.” My eyes skim over my former, younger self, dolled up in my white lace, princess style wedding gown. My cheeks were hollowed out pronouncing my high cheek bones and my arms were tiny little twigs. Now, especially after pushing myself around in a wheelchair constantly they are defined, toned and straight up muscular. I snigger; this is probably the fittest my arms have ever been in my entire life. I look down and over my arm and do a flex to see the bicep bump form.
“What are you doing?” Lexie laughs.
The giggles bubble out of me when I realize I am flexing and checking out my muscles. “I don’t know,” and both of us begin laughing hysterically. Having a good hard laugh is exactly what I needed.
When I opened the photo album to take a walk down memory lane, I had been expecting a sucker punch to the gut with hurt, pain and regret. Regret doesn’t present itself. Besides, what good would that do? I can’t step backwards and I wouldn’t want to if I could. Those memories and times were mine. I have three beautiful children because of those choices. No, I have no regrets. My past is my past … every single second of the last thirty-eight years—are mine. And from here on out, every second in the future are new memories for my future’s past. Sean and I are no longer together, and even though I hate to admit this to myself, my heart will always have a place for him. I know that the love there will fade, but he will always have a piece.
I look down at the photos again. Seeing Lance in his tux smiling and so carefree makes me glow with warmth, if he were here right now he would make some joke about the whole ridiculous mess with Sean.
“Aw, family photos. This looks fun.” Heather comes up beside me and plops down on the floor on the other side of Lexie. “I cannot believe you made me wear that thing.”
“Hey now, it’s not that bad. I’ve seen much worse for bridesmaid dresses.”
“My boobs were about to bust out and flash everyone.” She grabs at her chest exaggerating that she’s holding them in. “Could you have imagined Grandpa getting an eye full? Grandma and Grandpa would have had a heart attack right there at your wedding, and then Mom …”
We all start our laughing fit all over again, and my phone rings. I can barely contain the giggles as I try to say hello. I sober quickly hearing the voice.
�
�Someone is in a good mood.” Sweet nectar buzzing … That’s what his deep baritone voice sounds like.
“We were just looking at old family photos.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is.” I glance up and see both Heather and Lexie staring at me in question. “Is there something I can do for you, Shad?” Heather’s eyebrows instantly fly up and her jaw drops to the floor. I see her mouth ‘what does he want?’ I shrug my shoulders.
“I was wondering …” he pauses. “Do you think you could take me to see him?” Revisiting Lance will most likely put me straight into another fit of racking sobs. I have only been to his grave the one time. It’s time to visit him again.
“Okay.”
“Thank you, I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
***
Shad drives us across town to the cemetery where our friend lies peacefully. The grass is still green, but not quite as fresh and vibrant as it had been earlier this spring. Albeit the flowers are now in full bloom. I stare out the window of the jacked-up GMC pickup as we edge closer to the edge of Bozeman. A strange sense of Déjà vu swimming in my mind. Except—I know that this experience hadn’t occurred in some past life. The strange sensation ebbs into the darkness as I see the entrance to the cemetery. Shad takes a sharp left and turns onto the paved drive that leads through the grounds. I’m leading him purely from my memory of when Heather had brought me here. We had just left the lawyers office after I divulged my whole story to them. I was distraught, to say the least, and to add the drizzle soaking everything in its path that day. I search around for anything that might have stuck out to me as Shad eases around the winding road.
