She shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me. Don’t give me that look. All Greg told me was he wanted Denny to meet someone.” They picked their way through the crowd. A few minutes later they found Greg and Denny near the starting line.
Kelly saw they were talking with a third person, a man seated in a three-wheeled racing chair. Neon green with orange flames, it looked like a sleek race car compared to Denny’s bulky blue beast.
“Mom, isn’t this the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?” Denny practically squealed with joy.
“Martin Rawlings—call me Mart.” The man offered his hand, and Kelly shook it.
“Kelly Alexander.”
“I was telling your son about wheelchair racing.” Mart’s lower body was tucked into the racer. He looked like he was sitting on his knees. His lean, rock-solid upper body didn’t escape Kelly’s appreciative glance. She noticed a trace of grey in his dark brown hair, and his intense green eyes held hers.
He was handsome. From the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, she imagined he had quite a sense of humor.
She cut off that line of thinking. He was probably married. Taken, at the very least.
“Can we stay for the race, Mom? Please?” Denny begged.
“Won’t take long,” Greg said. “He’s usually done in about ten minutes.”
“Of course we can, sweetheart.”
Mart smiled, making Kelly’s heart fluttered. “I’d like to show Denny something when I’m done, if that’s okay?” he asked.
“Pleeeeeze, Mom?”
She laughed. “Yes, okay, fine.” Denny didn’t get a chance to be with other people in wheelchairs very often.
Denny maneuvered himself close to the starting line so he could watch. The finish was on the other side of the parking lot, where the runners would come in after making a pass through a local park. Mart was the only wheelchair racer, and they gave him a two-minute head start. As soon as he was out of sight, the boys raced to the finish line, eagerly awaiting him.
Greg walked with Kelly. “Don’t blink—he’ll be flying when he comes through.” Sure enough, Mart zoomed across in just over twelve minutes. The boys raced after him, cheering.
Kelly and Greg caught up with them in the parking lot at Mart’s van. “Greg, could you grab that for me?” he asked, pointing inside the open back door.
Greg leaned into the back of Mart’s van and pulled out an old red race chair. Denny’s eyes widened. Kelly put her hand to her mouth, trying to hold back her tears.
“This is one of my old racers,” Mart said. “It’s probably too big, but would you like to take it for a spin?”
Denny looked at her. She nodded.
Mart grabbed an old pair of gloves and a helmet from the back of his van, and they all returned to the track. The high-school track team was practicing, but apparently Greg and Mart had already cleared their demonstration with the coach. A small crowd gathered while Mart explained the chair to Denny and showed him the special gloves he used. The gloves were too big for Denny, but they used sports tape so they would stay on the boy’s hands.
“These are what you push with,” Mart explained. “You know how you push your regular chair?”
Denny showed him.
“Right. You don’t push a racer like that. It’s too slow. You push like this.” Mart showed him how the gloves held his hands in a closed fist position with Velcro straps, and he hit the rims with a downward motion, using built-in pads on the inside of the gloves. “You see how I did that?” Mart popped a wheelie and smoothly pivoted his racer to face them. Kelly sensed the chair was more an extension of him than simply a vehicle he used.
Denny nodded, too excited to speak. He was bouncing in his chair, a pre-cursor to his “flapping” habit, something he did when he was extremely excited or happy.
Greg lifted Denny into the race chair while Mart showed him how to sit on his knees. “They tuck under you, like this,” and he explained to him how his feet fit in the pouch beneath the seat. He strapped Denny in and demonstrated how to push and stop. Then they made their way to an outside lane. Denny started pushing.
Kelly couldn’t hold back her tears. The chair dwarfed him, but Denny pushed, carefully watching Mart and imitating his every move.
“Mom,” Paulie whispered, “he’s gotta get one of those.”
She nodded and put her arm around him. “I know, honey. I know.”
Chapter Three
Mart let Denny take the racer and gloves home, but Denny needed a helmet of his own that fit. “Make sure you stay out of the road, buddy. I’ll get it back from you in a couple of weeks.”
“I sure will. Mom, isn’t this the coolest thing ever?” Denny had to lean over to reach the push rims. Because the chair was so wide, it was obvious he wasn’t pushing as hard as he should, but he was happy.
She walked over to Mart while he watched Denny take a few last pushes in the parking lot.
“I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” she said. “And to Denny.”
Mart looked up and smiled. She felt that pleasant flutter in her stomach again. “It’s my pleasure, Kelly. I’d love to help him.” He paused. “If your husband has any questions about the chair, let me know.”
She shook her head. “I’m divorced.”
Did his smile brighten? “Oh. Sorry.”
“I’m not.” She laughed.
“Boyfriend, then.”
She shook her head. She was sure his smile widened. “Nope. Only men in my life are those two right there.”
“Ah.” Mart watched Denny slowly make his way back to them. “Then let me show you how to get the wheels off.”
Mart spent a few minutes with her. She fought to pay attention to what he said, not his gorgeous eyes. It didn’t help that his skintight race shirt rippled over his torso, displaying every lean, well-defined muscle.
And she noticed he wasn’t wearing any rings under his gloves, wedding or otherwise.
Greg helped her load the racer. It was tricky, but it fit after removing the wheels from both the racer and Denny’s everyday chair. She stopped on the way and bought Denny a bike helmet. When they arrived home, Kelly put the wheels on the racer, and Paulie rode with Denny around their block for over an hour.
Kelly stood at the kitchen window and watched them pass the house yet again. Mart had told her a chair would cost around three thousand dollars, and Denny would outgrow it in a year or two.
He lived about forty minutes north them, outside Sarasota, and offered to help Denny train.
“He obviously wants to do it,” Mart told her out of earshot of the boys. “If you want, I’ll help him train. I’m a certified official, so we can take him to the USATF training center in Clermont and squeeze him into a regular meet. But if you want to qualify him for track for Nationals, you have to order a chair now or you’ll run out of time.”
“Do you think he can qualify for track? He’s never done it before.”
“Look at his arms. He’s built like I was when I was his age. He can push. We can try him in field events, too.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” She knew Medicaid wouldn’t pay for the race chair because it wasn’t considered “necessary.”
Mart gave her the name and number of a local chair vendor, but they were closed until Monday. He also gave her his business card and wrote his home number on it. She knew she didn’t imagine it when his hand hesitated, his fingers touching hers.
“Feel free to call me if you have any questions. Or, just call me.”
He winked.
* * * *
“Kelly, where the hell am I going to get three thousand dollars?” David protested.
Kelly had spoken with the chair company. A base chair was around two thousand, an additional five hundred for add-ons that would help Denny, and she should budget an extra five hundred for spare tires and rims.
She decided to twist David’s arm to pay for the whole thing. He bought baseball and football gear for Pauli
e without complaint. He would do this too, like it or not. She’d be damned if she’d let him get away with shortchanging Denny.
“This is your son. You can max out a credit card or something.”
“Get real, Kelly. He’s in a wheelchair. You’re getting his hopes up for nothing. He’ll do it for a little while, then once he realizes it’s hard, he’ll drop out.”
Kelly recalled the look in Denny’s eyes when he first started pushing Mart’s old chair. “No, David, you don’t get it. You don’t think twice about paying for Paulie’s baseball camp or Pop Warner, but when it comes to Denny, he’s a second-class citizen to you, isn’t he?”
“Kelly, you have no right to say that to me.”
“I have every right to say that to you. You used Denny as an excuse to bail on our marriage. You don’t give him a chance because he embarrasses you. You will write me a check for three grand and bring it to me—today—or I will send Bernice and your boss an envelope full of all the emails and pictures I downloaded from your secret email account after I caught you screwing around, including stuff you did on the company dime.”
He fell silent. For a moment, Kelly thought the call had dropped.
“They won’t believe you.”
“Let’s see if they won’t. Are you screwing around on Bernice yet?”
Silence.
He didn’t correct her for saying the wrong name. She must have hit home.
“I’ll put it in the mail tomorrow.”
“I want it today, David. If it’s not in my hand by tonight, my envelope full of your exploits goes out in tomorrow’s mail. Bring it by the house. Tonight.”
She hung up on him, her hands shaking. She’d never thought he’d agree to it, thought he’d see through her bluff. She did have evidence, but she wasn’t about to dredge up painful memories to copy and mail it.
But David didn’t know that.
Two hours later, Paulie raced inside, slamming the door behind him. “Mom, Dad was just here.”
Her gut tightened. It was amazing how the sensation felt bad when it was about David, but so good when she thought about Mart. She couldn’t get Mart’s green eyes out of her mind. Or his playful wink.
“What did your dad want?”
Paulie ran into her office and handed her an envelope. Kelly carefully peeled back the flap.
There was the check, signed, for three grand.
“What is it?” Paulie asked.
“For Denny’s race chair.”
“Yes! Wait’ll I tell him.” Paulie ran down the hall to find his brother. It didn’t escape Kelly’s notice that David hadn’t stayed long enough to say hi to Denny.
David was such a liar. Obviously he’d had the money the whole time. She breathed a silent thank you and called Mart.
“Hi, Kelly. How are you?”
“A lot better. Denny’s father just brought me a check. I can order his racer.”
“Great! When can we get together to measure him? The sooner the better. I’ve ordered my chairs from them for years. I’ll bring the forms and a catalog so Denny can pick his paint job.”
“I’m available tomorrow afternoon, if that’s okay?”
“That’s fine. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”
“Whatever works for you.” She briefly considered flirting with him but thought better of it. Then again, he had told her to call him. “I don’t mind driving to meet you.”
“There’s a park about halfway between us in Venice. They have a track. I’ll have time to work with Denny, if you’ll bring the other racer.”
“That would be great.” She paused. “Your wife won’t mind?” Okay, that was sneaky, but two could play the game.
“No wife, no current girlfriend. I’m presently unattached.”
“Oh.” She laughed with him.
Straight and available. Hmmm…
They agreed to meet the next afternoon. She tried to control her nerves at the thought of seeing Mart again.
She looked in the mirror on the foyer wall. Why would he want her? He was obviously in great shape. She was a thirty-five year-old mom of two. Fortunately, she didn’t need glasses—yet—and there weren’t too many crow’s feet around her hazel eyes.
She wasn’t exactly fat, but spending most of her time in front of a computer every day left her a few pounds heavier in the hindquarters than she’d like. She’d have to start walking more often. And why would he want to spend time with her, when she had two kids, one in a wheelchair?
Well, at least that was one line of thinking she could dismiss. If anything, Mart had more in common with Denny than he did with Paulie.
Wasn’t that ironic?
Chapter Four
When Kelly drove up, Mart was waiting by a picnic table in the shade. He waved when they parked next to his van. Minutes later, they were all gathered around the table.
He showed Denny the forms, explained the measurements he had to take. “Do you have any questions, buddy?” Mart asked.
“Why are you in a chair?” Denny asked.
“Denny!” Kelly admonished, mortified. She was used to people asking about Denny but wasn’t sure her comfort applied to other people with disabilities.
“It’s okay.” Mart smiled, reassuring her. “That’s a normal question.” He looked at the little boy. “I was in a car accident when I was real little.”
“How old were you?”
“I was three.”
“Really?”
Mart nodded.
“How old are you?”
“Forty-two.”
“Did you used to walk?”
“I did, but I was so little I don’t remember.”
“I have a shunt in my head, and I have to cath to go to the bathroom. Do you?”
Kelly cringed, but Mart shook his head. “No. I’m what’s called an incomplete paraplegic. One of the bones in my back was broken in the accident. A part of the bone injured nerves on one side. It only injured part of it, and it didn’t cut through my spinal cord. I’m like you—some of me works, some of me doesn’t. My legs don’t work.”
“What level are you? I’m L5-S2.” Denny knew all about his spine and which vertebrae were involved with his level of function.
Mart smiled. “I’m L5.”
“Just like me! Hey Mom, did you hear that?”
This would be a surreal conversation in any other company. For Mart and Denny, however, it was the facts of life. Kelly tried to stifle her imagination. She knew approximately what functions the lumbar spine controlled. If Mart was an L5 and didn’t have to cath, he might be able to…
She immediately clamped down on that thought and hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“Did you have to wear braces when you were a kid? I did, for a while, until the doctor said I didn’t need them anymore.”
Mart shook his head. “No. Back then, the doctors said I couldn’t walk. I liked rolling better anyway.”
“I like rolling better too. I tried the walking braces but I hated them. They were hard work and too slow.”
Mart nodded. “I don’t blame you. Better to go fast, isn’t it?”
Denny bounced, flapped. “Yep! I love speeding!”
Denny perused the catalog and showed Mart the paint job he wanted. Kelly noticed that while Mart’s attention was on Denny, he let Paulie help, obviously not wanting to leave him out. They finished the measurements, Mart noting everything on the order forms.
“I need to talk to your mom for a few minutes,” Mart said.
“Why don’t you guys go shoot some baskets?” Kelly suggested.
“Okay.” Paulie grabbed his basketball, and the boys headed for the court.
* * * *
Mart wanted to ask Kelly out. There was something that attracted him to her, but he didn’t want to upset her by coming on too strong, too soon. Maybe in a few weeks, after they got to know each other.
“I’ll get this in for you tomorrow,” he said.
“Thank you for doing this, Ma
rt. I know you’re busy—”
He cut her off with a smile. “It’s fine. Seriously. I’m glad Greg put you in touch with me.”
“Denny doesn’t have anything except swimming and, until now, not competitively.”
“Paulie plays sports?”
“Baseball, football, basketball. He tries to play with Denny as much as he can. There’s only so much he can do. He has his own friends, his own life. It’s not fair to ask him to do everything with Denny.”
She sat on the picnic table bench next to Mart’s chair and watched the boys shoot baskets.
“Denny’s a great kid,” Mart said. “They both are.”
“I’m lucky they stick together as well as they do. I mean, they fight like normal kids, but you know what it’s like.”
Mart nodded. “I’ve got big brothers. They could pick on me, but God help anyone else who tried.”
Kelly laughed. “That’s about right.”
Denny made a basket and flapped his arms, bouncing in excitement while Paulie retrieved the ball, high-fiving his little brother on the return.
Mart laughed. “Why does he do that? I’ve seen kids who do it but never asked.”
“The flapping?” He nodded. “It’s a stimulation thing. Some kids in wheelchairs, especially spina bifida kids, do it. A normal kid can jump up and down or dance around or whatever when they’re excited. These kids can’t, so they flap.”
He chuckled. “It’s so cute.”
“We joke that one of these days he’s going to take off and fly away.”
Mart reached out and touched her hand, squeezed it, let go. “You’re a good mom.”
* * * *
She looked at Mart, pleasantly surprised. Their eyes met, held. Then she looked away, her heart pounding. She couldn’t deny she was attracted to him, but she barely knew him.
“Thank you.”
“I mean it, Kelly. You don’t baby him. You let him be a normal kid.”
“I feel lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
She tried to ignore the way her heart skipped when her eyes met his. “It can always be worse. I’ve seen kids in SB clinic who are on vents, kids who have CP and can’t take care of themselves. Will never take care of themselves. He’ll end up changing my diapers when I’m old.”
Cross Country Chaos Page 2
