“You need to do a wheelie,” she tells me.
She demonstrates the motion I’m supposed to make with my wheels to lift the front wheels out of the rut. It’s not helpful. I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it. I’m getting so frustrated, I want to throw myself out of the chair and crawl to the entrance. Finally, Kelly grabs the back of my chair so that the wheels are lifted out, and I’m free. But the whole episode leaves me feeling anxious about navigating this chair on my own.
In the gym, we spend over an hour practicing transfers. At first I was insistent we should use a walker for the transfers, but Kelly pointed out that wasn’t going to be practical outside of my home. While I’m transferred out of the chair, sitting on a mat, Kelly uses my wheelchair to show me how to do wheelies. I practice that too, until I feel confident enough that I probably won’t get stuck in a tiny rut again.
Kelly walks me to my car again and shows me how to disassemble the chair so that I can stash it in the seat next to me. We practice taking it apart and putting it back together. I feel exhausted by the end of it, and not at all confident that I can do any of this on my own.
“You’re going to be okay, Matt,” Kelly tells me. “We’ll practice again tomorrow.”
When I get back in my car for the final time at the end of my session, I see my crutches and I want to throw them out the window. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to use them again—I can’t risk a repeat of what happened today at work. I’ll use my wheelchair out of the house, and in the house, I’ll walk with my walker.
I’m going to continue to walk. I refuse to lose that ability. I know it sounds dumb, but I feel like it’s part of what makes me a person.
Over the next few days, I continue practicing with Kelly. It gets to the point where I feel a lot more comfortable doing transfers. She says it will continue to get easier with practice. Fortunately, my arms are already very strong from crutching myself around for the last year, so I’m not starting from zero.
I finally go back to work the week after Calvin had to lift my sorry ass out of my chair. And I’m in my wheelchair. I don’t have crutches or braces or any back-up. I’m in my wheelchair for the entire day.
I park in one of the handicapped spots in the office lot, and this time I’m appreciative of the extra space next to the parking spot. I have my wheelchair in the seat next to mine, with the wheels detached. I pull out the frame and pop the wheels back on, one by one. Then I pull my legs out of the car the way Kelly showed me, and lift the rest of my body out into the chair. She promised me this was something I’d get faster at, but right now, I’m slow. And nervous. I don’t want to fall on my ass in the freaking parking garage.
I wheel myself to the entrance to the building. There’s a handicapped button that I sometimes press, or if Kenny is around, he holds the doors for me. He’s there today, and he looks taken aback to see me in a wheelchair. Although he probably shouldn’t, considering how awful I’ve been walking lately.
“Hello there, Mr. Harper.” He squints at me. “How you doin’?”
“Fine.” I force a smile. “How are you?”
“Just fine,” he says.
Thank fucking God, he doesn’t pursue the whole thing further.
It’s easier to be in a wheelchair than it had been walking at the end. I was so nervous about every bump in the tiling, like it might send me flying. Now I roll across the floor without a second thought. I don’t hit any ruts in the floor, but even if I did, I feel confident I could get over them. The only thing that makes me nervous is doorways—I had no idea how narrow most of them are. I get worried about clipping my hand as I go through.
The first problem comes in the elevator. I had no idea that the buttons were so high, but when I try to reach for the button for my floor, it eludes me. I feel ridiculous, stretching to hit the button, my fingers about an inch short.
“What floor do you need?” a man asks me.
“Eleven. Thanks,” I mumble.
Christ, am I going to have to go through this shit every time?
When I get up to my own floor, that’s when things get real. Everyone is staring at me as I wheel by. Not that they didn’t stare at me when I was walking on crutches, but I was so focused on not falling, I stopped noticing. I try not to notice today, but it’s hard.
I usually try to pass by Anna’s cubicle on my way to my own, but this time, I take a different path. I don’t want her to see me this way. I know it’s dumb because it’s obviously inevitable, but I don’t know. I just don’t. Not yet.
But of course, she sees me when she comes to my cubicle for lunch. Her blue eyes widen when she notices that I’m in the wheelchair.
“Oh,” she says.
I shrug. “I got sick of dragging myself around on those crutches.” Like it was a choice I made. Like I wouldn’t be walking if it were remotely possible.
“Lunch?” Anna suggests, holding up her insulated lunch bag.
I nod and follow her to the break room. I’m shorter than she is now, in my wheelchair. Maybe if we had a date, I could use my braces and crutches. Or I don’t know, maybe my walker even.
Who am I kidding? Anna and I will never have a date.
We get to the break room, and I realize that my water bottle is up in the top cabinet. I’ll never be able to reach it without standing up. I clear my throat. “Um, Anna, do you think you could reach my water bottle for me?”
Anna looks at me, and then she bursts into tears. She sinks into a chair, sobbing.
Jesus Christ.
Chapter 61: Anna
When Matt wheels into work in his new chair, my heart sinks. I know he hates this. I know that more than anything in the world, he wanted to retain the ability to walk. And I have failed him.
Not that there’s anything wrong with him being in a wheelchair. He’s still just as attractive, at least to me. He’s still the only man I want—possibly the only man that I’ll ever want. In some ways, it’s easier to watch him glide around in a wheelchair than struggling with those crutches. But I know it’s not what he wanted.
I hear everyone at work whispering about him all morning. I pass by Joe and Calvin at the water cooler, and Joe says to Calvin, “So you want to invite him to hunt with us tonight? What do you think?”
And Calvin replies, “Shut the fuck up, Joe.”
Matt had the seat removed from his cubicle. I heard the custodial staff member coming by to take it. “You don’t need this anymore?” the guy asked Matt.
“No, I won’t need it,” Matt told him. “Just take it away.”
It’s obvious he intends to use the wheelchair all the time. I can’t blame him.
I tell myself over and over that this isn’t the worst thing in the world. This is the inevitable conclusion of the decline that Matt has had over the last several years. But when we’re in the break room together and I see him looking up at the water bottle that he can no longer reach, I just can’t bear it anymore.
“Anna,” he says gently. I am overcome with guilt that given everything he’s going through, he now has to comfort me. He wheels closer to me, and I feel a heavy hand rest on my shoulder. My body tenses against my will, but I quickly remind myself that he’s only touching me through my clothing. And also, it feels so nice to have his warm hand touching my body. Even if it’s just my shoulder. “It’s okay, Anna. I’m okay.”
“It’s all my fault!” I sob. “It’s my fault you can’t walk.”
“Anna,” he says again. Now he’s outright rubbing my shoulder. Even though I feel awful, I love the way he’s touching me. I don’t want it to ever end. “It’s not your fault. Anyway, I can still walk. I just feel like it’s easier to… to be in the wheelchair during the day.”
“I prayed for you,” I say, wiping my eyes. “I prayed that you’d be able to keep walking, even with what that doctor told you. I knew that if I said the prayer perfectly 121 times, you would be okay. But…” I’m crying so hard, I start hiccupping. “I couldn’t do it, Matt. I’d always
get some little part wrong. I made it to 103 times perfectly once, but then I touched my shoulder 12 times instead of 11. If I had done it…”
He’s looking at me like I’m crazy. I know it sounds crazy when I say it, but he doesn’t get it. I could have saved him. If only I’d done it right.
Or maybe not. Maybe this is just one of those compulsions that Dr. Schultz keeps reminding me is meaningless. Sometimes I realize that, but other times, I’m not entirely certain. I genuinely believed I could save Matt.
I start to cry harder. And then I feel Matt wrap me in his arms, and I’m letting him do it and it’s okay. It’s more than okay, actually. I want this. More than anything, I want this.
Chapter 62: Matt
Okay, Anna is nuts. Really, really nuts. More crazy than I even gave her credit for. And that’s saying a lot.
But at the same time, the whole thing is touching. The girl honestly believes she’s the reason this happened to me. She feels so bad about it that she’s sobbing. It makes me want to reach out and give her a hug.
So I do. I hug Anna and she lets me hug her. She sobs into my shoulder and clings to my chest. And it’s been so damn long since I’ve been this close to a girl that I actually start getting hard just from this. Just from a stupid hug. Good thing I’m sitting down.
Anna pulls away for a second and her eyes are so wet. “Matt,” she sniffles.
Shit, she’s beautiful.
Then I do something that I know I shouldn’t do, but she’s so damn beautiful that I literally do not even care anymore:
I kiss Anna.
I lean forward and my lips are on hers. Her lips are so goddamn soft, it makes my whole body tingle. She nearly pulls away, but then she doesn’t. She lets me kiss her.
I don’t put my tongue in her mouth. I sense that I probably shouldn’t do that. But I do everything else. Everything else one could do with a kiss.
When I pull away, Anna is shaking. She taps on the table eleven times and her breathing evens out. She looks down at her lap.
“Do you hate me?” I have to ask her.
“No, of course I don’t,” she says, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Good,” I say. “Because I love you.”
It feels weird to say that. After all, Anna and I haven’t even been out on one date. But you know what? I do. I love her. I fucking love her. I’ve never felt this way before. Even in spite of all the crazy or maybe partially because of it, I love her.
“I love you too,” Anna says, and she looks me in the eyes to let me know she means it. “But…” She shakes her head. “I’d ruin your life.”
I gesture down at my legs. “I don’t think so, Anna. Anyway, I’m willing to take the risk.”
We look at each other a long time. Soon the regular lunch crowd will be filtering in and Anna hates that. I get that. I know Anna so damn well.
“I liked it,” she says softly. “When you kissed me? I really liked it.”
I grin at her. It’s been what I’ve been waiting to hear for a long time. So I kiss her again.
Chapter 63: Anna
Matt is coming over to my house tonight.
I am simultaneously excited and absolutely terrified. Nobody comes into my house. It is a completely sterile environment. I won’t even allow my parents inside. Even though I trust Matt more than anyone else in the world, I still can’t fathom him entering my personal space.
Prior to our date, I called him multiple times. “Could you make sure you’re wearing something clean?”
“Anna,” he sighed. “I always wear clean clothing. This is getting insulting.”
In addition to being terrified about having Matt in my space, I am equally terrified about what he will think of my home. I spend the entire day cleaning my house until my back is sore and my hands are nearly bleeding. But the big problem I have is that I have trouble throwing things away. When I put something in the garbage can, it just feels so final. Once something is at the dumpster, it can’t be retrieved. So I waste very little.
Sometimes I feel like the items that I save are encroaching on my space. Dangerously so.
Although what I’m most concerned about is my tower of cans. I recognize that this is the least conventional item in my home. Most people don’t have hundreds of cans stacked in their living room. But honestly, it’s not that many cans. It’s not as if I have thousands of cans. Or millions.
In anticipation of my night with Matt, I do something that I hate to do, which is that I take a Xanax.
This medication was given to me by Dr. Schultz as what he calls a “rescue medication.” When I’m feeling particularly anxious about my baseline level of anxiety, I can take Xanax to ease some of that anxiety.
I try not to take it unless it’s absolutely necessary. After swearing I would never be on medication, I now take two pills on a daily basis, and then the Xanax additionally. I try not to think about it. I do feel that it helps, and it has not turned me into a zombie. I would never be able to contemplate having Matt in my home without these medications.
Once the Xanax is in my system, I can feel myself starting to relax. Instead of being terrified, I start to look forward to having Matt in my home. I hope that when he’s here that he kisses me.
Kissing Matt was one of the most amazing things I have ever experienced. When his lips first touched mine, all I could think about were the germs. But a second later, it was the furthest thing from my mind. All I could think about was how lovely it felt to have his lips against mine, his tongue somehow penetrating every single nerve ending in my entire body.
He must be very good at kissing.
With two hours left until Matt arrives, I start pacing around my living room. I wish he were coming right now. On a whim, I call him up.
“Are you still coming?” I ask him.
“Nope,” Matt says. “I changed my mind.”
My heart stops.
“I’m kidding, Anna,” he says. “Of course I’m coming. I can’t wait to see you.”
My shoulders relax at the sound of his reassurances. “Me too. I can’t wait to see you too.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to bring?” he asks.
“Just yourself.” I pause thoughtfully. “Do you think you’ll be kissing me tonight?”
For a moment, Matt is quiet. Then he laughs. “Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t a well-thought out plan. But I thought probably I would. If that’s okay with you.”
“It is,” I say quickly. Then I add, “I’ll put it on the agenda for tonight.”
Matt laughs again. I know I’m saying stupid things, but I haven’t been on a date in a long time and I haven’t ever been on a date with a man that I really liked. Planning and scheduling keeps me calm.
“It’s going to be great, Anna,” he says, although part of me wonders if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
Chapter 64: Matt
Anna still won’t come to my apartment, but she anxiously agrees to let me come to hers. It’s clearly a big deal though. She calls me no less than five million times to ask me about food choices for dinner and even asks me multiple times if I’ll be wearing clean clothing. If it were anyone else but Anna, I’d have canceled five years ago.
When I pull into Anna’s driveway, her door opens almost instantly, which makes me think she’s been staring out the window waiting for me. I actually timed things to arrive at the exact second she told me to come, because I know Anna’s got a thing about promptness. If I were early, she’d freak out, and if I were late, she’d be mad. I had to wait in my car a block away for ten minutes to make absolutely sure I’d get there exactly on time.
She hops down the stairs to her front door and arrives at my car slightly breathless. “You came!” she says as I open the door to my car.
“Of course I came.” Sometimes I don’t know how to respond to this girl.
Anna warned me that there are five steps to get to the front door of the house she owns, so I came prepared. I’m wearing my K
AFOs and I’ve brought my crutches with me. The plan is to walk up the five steps, which apparently have a railing, and Anna can pull my chair up the stairs.
It ends up being more of a drama than I anticipated. I have a lot of trouble standing up from my wheelchair because the footplate is in the way. I grab onto one crutch and the railing, and I rock to give myself momentum, but it’s hard. I can still stand up with my walker, but that wouldn’t have given me much help with stairs.
“Can I help?” Anna asks me.
Hell no. No good date ever has started with the woman helping the guy to stand up. Yet how am I supposed to do this? I genuinely don’t see how I can get up these stairs.
“Let me lean on you,” I finally say.
Anna comes to my side, and I grab onto her with one arm and the railing with the other. I use the strength in my arms to pull myself into a standing position. Whew.
And now I’ve got to get up these goddamn stairs.
I take them slowly. It’s really, really hard though. My right leg just does not want to cooperate. But through some combination of prayer and dragging my leg along, I make it to the top. This is the worst of it. I now know how to bump down stairs in my wheelchair if there’s a railing, so I won’t have to repeat this process.
“Do you want me to put your wheelchair in the trunk?” Anna asks me from the bottom of the stairs.
“No,” I say. “Just bring it up the stairs.”
Anna frowns. “You mean you’re going to use it in my house?”
“Yeah…” What the fuck did she think I was going to do with it?
She crinkles her nose. “But it’s all dirty!”
I’m starting to feel like this whole thing was a big mistake. “Well, what do you want me to do?”
“Can’t you use the crutches in the house?”
Crazy in Love (Matt & Anna Book 1) Page 19
