A
week later, we arrange an evening with Mike for him to teach me how to transfer
Brody in and out of his wheelchair. When
I show up, Brody is wearing comfy-looking sweatpants and a T-shirt, which I
guess is to make things easier. He looks
incredibly nervous, to be honest. About
as nervous as I feel.
“Relax,
Brody,” Mike says to him. “Emily will do
great. She’s a smart girl.”
We
go into the bedroom together and it’s almost like we’re about to have an odd
ménage a trois rather than learn how to transfer my boyfriend in and out of his
wheelchair. Brody lines himself up
behind the lift like last time. Mike waits for him to undo the Velcro across
his chest, which he again seems to struggle with.
Mike
gives me instructions on the best way to get the sling under Brody. Brody mostly doesn’t say much through
this—honestly, I think he’s a little embarrassed. I am too.
But we both know it’ll be worth it to learn how to do this.
Once
we hook the sling up to the cradle, Mike shows me the button to press on the
sling. It elevates, suspending Brody’s
body in the air. “She did a good job,
right?” Mike says to Brody. “You feel
secure?”
“Yep,”
Brody says.
He
shows me how to push the lift over to the bed, and then lower it so that
Brody’s body comes to a rest on the bed.
Then he has me unhook the sling and pull it out from under him. And then we’re done—Brody’s in the bed.
We
do it in the opposite direction, then he has me do it all on my own with no
instructions from him. It really isn’t
all that hard, I guess. In all honesty
though, it’s a little weird. I know if
we’re together long enough, it will probably feel more normal to me, but this
obviously isn’t something most people have to do in relationships.
Once
he’s back in his wheelchair the third time, Mike says to him, “So I guess I can
take off for now?”
“Sure,”
Brody says. “Come back around ten?”
“Maybe
I could take care of the bedtime stuff so you don’t have to come back?” I
suggest.
Brody
and Mike exchange looks. “No,” Brody
says finally. “It’s a little more…
involved. Anyway, it’s not appropriate
for you to be my caregiver, Emily.”
I
don’t know what he means exactly. Maybe
he’s talking about showering and stuff.
Also, Mike mentioned he has a catheter.
He’s right—I definitely don’t want to have to deal with that. Or whatever else that I can’t think of. Anything involving pee is not sexy.
After
Mike takes off, Brody is still in his wheelchair. We’re both quiet for a minute and I’m having
trouble reading the expression on his face.
“Do you still like me?” he finally asks.
He says it jokingly, but his voice wavers slightly.
“Of
course,” I say. “You’re really sexy.”
He
rolls his eyes, but still manages to smile crookedly. “Do you want to get into bed together?”
“Sure,”
I say. “It’ll give me a chance to
practice.”
I
go slowly, making sure I do all the steps because the last thing I want is for
him to fall. When he’s suspended in the
air, he looks at me for a second and then quickly looks away. I manage to successfully lower him into the
bed, then remove the sling out from under him.
“Great
job,” he says. “Now come here.”
I
cuddle up beside him. We kiss and I run
my hand up and down his chest and neck, getting under his shirt. He watches me do this for a minute, and I
raise my eyebrows at him. “Do you like
this?”
Brody
smiles crookedly. “I can’t really feel
my chest. But I love watching you.”
“Oh.”
I don’t know exactly what to say to that.
“Is there something that you’d like me to do?”
“Well…”
He sounds shy all of a sudden. “You know what really turns me on?”
“What?”
I ask eagerly.
His
cheeks color slightly. “When you touch my hands. That’s really hot, for some reason.”
I
frown at him. “But you said you can’t feel them?”
“Right,”
he confirms. “But… I don’t know. It’s
just really sexy to watch you touching my hands. I’m not sure why.”
With
Brody’s blessing, I lift his left hand in the air between us. I wouldn’t say he has the most manly-looking
hands in the world. His hand is thin,
nearly devoid of any muscle, and his fingers curl gently. As I massage his palm and fingers, I can’t
help but notice how soft they are—there are none of the callouses that most adults
have on their palms.
I
glance up at Brody’s face and see his eyebrows are scrunched together. “Is this
okay?” he asks me.
“Of
course,” I say. “Is it okay for you?”
“Yeah,
of course. But… you’re okay with doing
this? It’s not too weird?”
“It’s
not weird. As long as you like it.”
“I
like it,” he assures me.
So
I keep massaging Brody’s hand and I can tell by the look on his face that he
definitely likes what I’m doing. It occurs to me that we’ve been dating for
about eight months and I haven’t even attempted to touch him below the belt. If
he were any other guy, we probably would have been having sex months ago. The
truth is, that area scares me a little bit.
Not just because he’s a quadriplegic, but at least partially. I have no idea what tubes or whatever is down
there. I know since he has a catheter,
there must be a bag of pee somewhere. I’m
scared of how I’ll react to a big bag of pee.
“You
are so hot, Emily,” he whispers in my ear.
And I can’t help but wonder if he means it or if it’s like when I tell
him he’s sexy when he’s hanging in the air in his Hoyer lift.
_____
Brody
works from home most days, but he goes in at least one day a week. And as it turns out, his office is not far
from where I live. So if I know Abby isn’t
going to be around, we sometimes meet up at my apartment after he goes to work,
although I can tell Brody doesn’t love coming to my apartment. Even though he can fit through the door, I
know he feels more comfortable in his own space.
It’s
the little things, you know? Like at his
apartment, the remote for the television has these large buttons that are easy
for him to press, but mine has these teeny tiny buttons. So he can’t control my remote at all. And obviously, since we don’t have his lift
here, there’s no chance of him being able to get in and out of his wheelchair.
Still,
it’s nice not to have to trek all the way over to his apartment. Also, Brody looks so cute when he’s all
dressed up from work. Like today he
shows up and he’s actually wearing a tie. It’s a simple dark blue tie that
somehow makes his eyes seem bluer. I’ve seen him in dress shirts many times
before, but never a tie. It’s sort of
adorable. “I love ties,” I say.
“Oh?”
Brody says. He stops in the middle of
his attempt to hook his fingers into the loop and pull it off.
“Yeah,
they’re sexy,” I say. “But you don’t
have to wear it.”
“I
don’t mind,” he says, although he loosens it slightly.
We
decide to order a pizza. Much like all
New Yorkers, Brody and I are both pizza snobs.
We both have a very definite idea of what makes up the perfect
pizza. When I went to college in Boston,
I suffered through some mediocre pies from chains like Little Caesar’s (ugh),
Dominos (okay) or Pizza Hut (better, but still not acceptable). You just can’t get a decent pie in
Boston. And don’t even get me started on
the deep dish Chicago pizzas.
Just…no. A perfect pizza is thin
crust.
Brody
and I have solemnly agreed that Mike’s Pizza is the best and only place to get
pizza. And best of all, they deliver in twenty minutes or less, or else the
pizza is free. Which is perfect, because
we’re both starving.
At
the 12-minute mark, I hear the buzzer and I applaud the pizza guy for being
early. I buzz him up and unlock the
door, ready to fling it open the second I smell that distinctive oil and cheese
and tomato sauce aroma. I ordered a
large pie with pepperoni and extra cheese, but I know I can only eat a maximum
of two slices in front of Brody. Even
that is kind of pushing it. But he’ll
also eat two, which is half the pie, and then I’ll put the other half in my
fridge to eat after he leaves.
I
hear the doorbell ring and I hurry over to answer it. I fling the door open, but unfortunately,
it’s not the pizza guy. It’s someone entirely different, someone who is the last person I’d want to see standing at
my door. I recognize him immediately
from his photos. It’s Norm.
Oh
shit. What the hell is Norm doing here??
I
just stare at him, unable to speak. Unlike
me, he looks pretty much identical to his photos, although he’s slightly
shorter than I expected. It’s not like
he’s a heartthrob, but there’s nothing ugly about him. He looks at me with a pleasant smile on his
face, and that’s when I notice he’s carrying a small bouquet of roses. “Hi,” he says. “My name is Norm. Is Emily around?”
My
first instinct, of course, is to lie.
Emily moved. Yes, she used to
live here, but she’s long gone. No
forwarding address, sorry. Except at
that moment, Brody comes wheeling over to me and says, “Emily? Who’s at the door?”
There’s
this horrible moment when I can see the wheels turning in Norm’s brain as he
figures it all out. His eyes widen and
he stares at me. “You’re… Emily?” he manages.
If
only Brody weren’t here. I could fix
this if I were all by myself. Goddamn
Brody. Of course, now he’s staring at me
just as intently as Norm is. “Yes,” I
croak.
“Emily
Davison?” he asks. He still can’t believe it. Poor schmuck.
“Yes,”
I say again, my voice barely a whisper.
Please leave, Norm. Please.
He
blinks a few times. “Are you the one
that I…”
I
can only nod.
Norm’s
face goes from stunned to furious. I can
see a vein start to bulge out in his forehead.
“If you’re Emily Davison, then who the fuck was the pretty girl in all
those photos you sent me?”
My
cheeks burn. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“All
this time,” Norm mutters. “All this time
I was in love with you and you’ve just been playing
me. I can’t fucking believe this.”
Brody
wheels closer to us, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Emily, what’s going on here?”
“This
must be the boyfriend,” Norm
sneers. He looks at Brody. “You should probably know that your fat
girlfriend here is messing around with guys on the internet, acting like she’s
into them, and sending them photos of other girls. Hot
girls.”
Brody
looks really rattled. I don’t want him
to think I’ve been cheating on him, even on the internet. I haven’t—not even once. “It was before you and I were together,” I say
desperately. “I swear.” I look at Norm. “We haven’t talked in almost a year. Why are you even here?”
“Because
I thought I was in love with you,”
Norm says. His lips twist into a
grimace. “Of course, that was before I knew
you were a big fat liar. A big fat
disgusting lying pig.”
Even
as my eyes fill with tears, I know that I deserve this. I lied to Norm. He was in love with me and bared his soul to
me, and I bullshitted him. All I can say
in my defense is that I didn’t do it out of maliciousness. I did it because I was lonely, and I knew he
wouldn’t love the real me.
And
now it’s all exploding in my face. Brody
is going to hate me now.
“Hey,”
Brody says to Norm. “You can’t talk to
her that way.”
Norm
looks at Brody in surprise. “What?”
“I said you can’t talk to my girlfriend
that way,” Brody says. His voice is calm
but there’s a menacing edge to it.
Something I’ve never heard before from him, since he’s always been nothing
but sweet around me. He’s staring down
Norm, an intense look in his usually mild blue eyes. “I want you to apologize to her right now.”
“Hey,
buddy,” Norm says. “She’s the one who lied to me.”
“I
don’t fucking care,” Brody says, moving his chair closer to Norm. “You’re going to fucking apologize to Emily
and you’re going to do it right now.”
I
look up at Norm’s face. What’s crazy is
that he actually looks frightened. Why,
I can’t imagine. Brody’s clearly in no
shape to take him on in a fight. Yet I
have to admit, the way he’s talking is a little scary. Menacing.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have guessed Brody had it in him.
“I’m
sorry, Emily,” Norm mutters, staring down at his feet. Wow. I can’t even
believe he apologized. This is amazing. I feel like I should apologize too, but my
mouth feels glued shut.
“Good,”
Brody says. “Now get the fuck out of
here.”
Norm
lifts his eyes. “You know, she might be
lying to you too.”
“I
missed the part where that’s any of your business,” Brody says, raising his
eyebrows. “Now get out before we call
the cops.”
And
Norm is gone like a lightning bolt. I
see him practically sprinting down the hall.
I shut the door behind him, my hands shaking. I lean against the wall, still blinking my
eyes to hold back the tears. I’m afraid
to even look at Brody. I can’t even
imagine what he must be thinking about me.
“I
wonder where the pizza is,” Brody says.
I
stare at him. How could he be thinking
about pizza right now? Even I’m not thinking about pizza right
now. “You’re not… angry at me?”
Brody
shrugs. “Why would I be angry? He’s the one who came here acting like a
maniac. You obviously haven’t talked to
him since we’ve been together.”
“But…”
I bite my lip. “I lied to him.”
“Yeah,
so?” He shrugs again. “I mean, you messed around a little on the
internet. Big wow. It’s not like you’re the first person in history to do
that.” He takes a breath. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve done it before
too.”
I
frown. “You have?”
“Well,
yeah, of course,” he says with a shrug.
“Look, I’m a guy in a wheelchair.
You think girls on the internet get super excited when I share that
information? So, you know, I don’t.”
Somehow
it never occurred to me that Brody had ever done the same thing I’d done. But I guess it makes sense. I still feel like I want to be completely
honest with him. “It wasn’t just online
though,” I admit. “I talked to him on
the phone… we were almost going to meet up but I… well, obviously I didn’t go
through with it.”
“Yeah,”
Brody nods. “Been there, done that.”
I
stare at him. “Are you serious?”
“Emily,”
he says in a calm, sensible voice. “You
think guys don’t get lonely too? Most
girls… like 99% of them are not going to be interested in me for… well, for obvious
reasons. Online relationships are
easier. You can… you know, tell them
only what you want them to know. They
don’t need to find out that I need help to take a goddamn shower or get
dressed, that’s for sure. I even spent
like an hour getting the perfect angle for the camera on my computer so that my
wheelchair wouldn’t be visible on Skype.”
He rolls his eyes. “It sounds so
dumb when I say it out loud, but… I don’t know.
Anyway, I’m glad I don’t have to do that shit anymore.”
Wow. That is a surprise, to say the least. But what he’s saying makes sense. He’s right that 99% of girls wouldn’t date a
guy as impaired as he is. But something
about it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“So, um, can I ask you something then?”
Brody
smiles. “Sure.”
“When
you asked me out,” I begin, “was it because you liked me, or was it only because
you thought there was a chance I’d say yes.”
The
smile fades from Brody’s face. He sighs
loudly and rubs his chin with his wrist.
“You know, I could ask you a very similar question about me. But I’m not sure if either of us really wants
to know the answer.”
And
that is an answer in itself.
“Emily,”
he says quietly. He wheels closer to me
so that he can run his hand over my chest.
“I find you incredibly attractive.
I think about you all the freaking time.
The thought of being close to you just… it floors me. I love you.” He lifts his blue eyes to look into
mine. “Is that enough of an answer?”
“Yes,”
I say honestly. “And I have to tell you,
it was pretty damn sexy the way you stood up to Norm for me.”
Brody
grins. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,”
I say, running my fingers along his jawline and feeling the stubble of his
beard. “Weren’t you worried that he’d,
like, hit you or something?”
Brody
laughs. “That guy? Are you serious? First of all, nobody who meets their
girlfriends on the internet is getting in a fistfight. And second of all, there was no way that guy
was hitting anyone. Not a chance in
hell.”
“How
did you know?”
“I
just knew,” he says. “I’ve been Sean’s
brother long enough to have seen my fair share of fights, believe me.”
I
raise my eyebrows at him. “You know, my
sister told me you got suspended for being in a fistfight at school.”
Brody
laughs. “Oh, right. I remember that. Junior year. This guy Evan Rogers got all pissed off at me
because I made out with his girlfriend at some party. He came right up to me in the hallway and
shoved me. It was entirely his fault,
but everyone loved him, so I got suspended and he just got a slap on the
wrist.”
I
smile. “Did you win the fight, at least?”
“No,
I got the shit kicked out of me. I mean,
the guy was on the football team.” He shakes his head. “It was probably a stupid move making out
with his girlfriend.”
I
try to imagine Brody in a fight, but it’s hard.
Aside from that one photo in the yearbook, I’ve never seen him as
anything other than a quadriplegic. His
brother in a fight though—that I can definitely imagine.
The
buzzer rings again and we both jump slightly.
“That’s probably the pizza,” I say.
Brody
winks at me. “You sure it’s not some
other boyfriend of yours?”
I
laugh, but this was a really close call.
Norm came so damn close to ruining everything for me.
Wow! You had panicked for Emily and Brody. I'm still a little nervous, but Brody was a Champion! Emily is very lucky...I think. 🤔
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed it!
DeleteWow! You had panicked for Emily and Brody. I'm still a little nervous, but Brody was a Champion! Emily is very lucky...I think. 🤔
ReplyDeleteI loved Brody in this chapter. He was a hero and honest. His answer to her question about why he had asked her out was spot on.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteSuch a sweet chapter!
ReplyDeleteThanks!
DeleteWhat a jerk! Yeah she was wrong for lying, but he could have been a man about it. I'm proud of Brody. He was a gentleman. you could update more but I'm very thankful you stick to once a week. Read ya next Sunday!
ReplyDeleteTc
Thanks! I wanted Brody to show his tough side.
DeleteAwesome chapter, as usual! I love how your writing flows, it's so easy to read and the content keeps me craving more! Love the transfer training scene. "Do you still like me?" Swoon.
ReplyDeleteThanks.. I have this nagging feeling that this isn't as well written as my other stuff.
DeleteYou're a great writer and this chapter is perfect!
DeleteYay, Brody !!! He really showed us 'who's the man!' Terrific episode.
ReplyDeleteThanks!
Delete