Soup and Basketball
Gavin
The hoses were folded and in place, the equipment cleaned and ready, and the engine sparkled in the sunlight. I threw the dirty, wet rag in the bucket and clapped my hands once.
“Is that your new thing?” Jackson had appeared out of nowhere—or so it seemed. He had an amused smile on his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Applauding yourself for work well done?”
For a moment, I wished I still had the rag in my hands so I could throw it at him. “Shut up, idiot. I was just getting rid of dirt.”
“Go get cleaned up. I’ll move the truck inside.” I threw the keys to him and picked up my bag from the floor where I had dropped it once I decided the truck needed a bit of fixing up before the game. “We don’t want your girl to be repelled by your messiness.”
Jackson had seen Ana and me outside kissing a bit earlier, and was acting like an old yenta, nosy and hell-bent on pushing us together.
“She’s not my girl.” Yet, anyway. But I wanted her to be. More than anything I ever wanted in life. Shock didn’t even begin to describe how I felt faced with such a revelation. We had gone out a few times since our picnic. Nothing too earth-shaking and yet, here I was actually contemplating a real and lasting relationship, two short months after we’d met. “I do need a shower though. Make sure not to crash the engine into the wall while you back it up.”
I was being purely facetious. Jackson was our lieutenant and fully versed on how to operate and park a fire engine. With a wave, I darted inside the building to get ready. After hours of work under the sun, I smelled rather ripe. The shower called, and I obeyed.
Sometime later, cleaned and refreshed, I slipped into my shorts and sneakers, ready to take on the world. I couldn’t wait to see Ana again. Even though I had been with her outside not even an hour ago, I was itching to feast my eyes on her gorgeous face and taste her lips again. God, I was in so deep I would never be able to dig myself out.
“Hey, Gavin. Give me a hand here, will you?” It was Derik, struggling with a giant pan in the kitchen. I detoured toward him, laughing.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” Derik, a tall, skinny man with a mop of black curly hair, held on to the pan’s handles for dear life.
“Trying to pour some of this soup into the storage containers, but the fucking pan is heavy and awkward.” I reached out to take over one of the handles while he tipped the pan over just enough to pour some of the thick liquid out. “I’ve been calling those idiots outside, but no one is paying attention.”
The pan was heavy, and so big it was hard to keep it balanced as we tilted it farther and filled several plastic containers with its contents. “Couldn’t you have waited until after the game to do this?”
The usual cacophony of raised voices reached us from outside the building. The men were getting ready to start the game, and probably waiting for me.
“Dude, let’s hurry. They’re waiting.” What I didn’t say was that I was more worried about making my writer wait than my buddies. My stomach clenched in anticipation of her eyes on mine. Shit. I had either struck lucky or out completely. Not sure which yet.
Pan finally emptied, and with the containers covered and placed safely in the fridge, I rushed to the door, half running, half hopping. My heart tap-danced all the way, and almost exploded when I opened the door and laid eyes on my beautiful Ana. She was sitting on the low wall across the way, her eyes searching for something—hopefully me.
The guys teased me for having taken so long inside and I gave them the finger, my eyes on Ana all along. I raised my hand and waved until she looked my way.
Even across the distance, I saw her eyes open wide and her face blanch. What the hell is happening? I followed her eyes down to my legs and it hit me. She didn’t know. Fuck. She didn’t know.
The game was a blur. I bounced, dribbled, stole the ball from my opponents, and shot it at the basket without much conviction or success. My head was not on the game. It was stuck on the look of surprise—or was it horror—on Ana’s face when she saw me in shorts for the first time. I hadn’t even considered that she may not be aware of my disability. Now what? How was she going to react? Was she going to accept it and move on, or be repulsed by it and run?
I should have told her. Too late now. I had assumed she knew, and now I had to be ready for whatever her reaction would be. Calm down, idiot. She’s not that shallow. At least I hoped she wasn’t.
As soon as the game was over—I think we won, but am not sure—I high-fived the other guys out of habit and sped toward Ana. She was still standing by the low wall, looking slightly confused and dazed. This was it. I crossed my fingers, swallowed hard, and got ready for… what, I could not guess. I was ready.
Or maybe not.
***
Ana
Delta had spent a whole evening planning my outfit, a slutty combination of a skintight dress and net stockings. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it to a club, much less to a friendly basketball game between the firemen and the cops. I would be arrested for indecent exposure, most likely. However, I knew my friend and arguing with her was a waste of everyone’s time. So, I humored her, nodding throughout the whole affair, and as soon as she left I threw the horrible outfit into the charity pile I had been collecting in my bathroom. I was not going to look like Julia Roberts in one of the earlier scenes of Pretty Woman just to please my insane friend.
This morning I had calmly picked up a pair of jeans and an Austen quote T-shirt, got dressed, and then spent the next hour trying to decide which shoes to wear. After trying on every pair of footwear I had in my closet, I settled on my usual plain Skechers that went well with just about any pair of jeans. Gavin had called me the day before and we decided there was no point in him picking me up, considering the firehouse was walking distance from my house. I would meet him there.
It was a fabulous day. The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky, and a gentle breeze made the early summer heat a lot more pleasurable. With my favorite lavender scarf wrapped around my neck and a pair of elegant sunglasses teetering on the top of my head, I left the house. For once I was confident and sure of myself. Unfortunately, as I approached the fire department, my bravado began to fizzle faster than the air in a busted balloon.
What if he acts differently around his work buddies? What if he hates this stupid T-shirt? What if he doesn’t think I’m sexy enough?
The other guys were all already milling around by the basketball court in front of the firehouse, chatting and throwing the ball to each other. No sign of Gavin. I struggled with the decision of whether to go inside and find him or wait for him to come out, but thankfully Gavin just appeared around the corner, a sports bag slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. He spotted me right away and waved while sauntering across the street in my direction.
“Hi, beautiful.” He searched for my lips with his and kissed me. Okay. So we aren’t hiding it from his coworkers. I melted against him and had to brace myself with a hand around his neck for fear I would fall. Those lips were to die for. I just couldn’t get enough. When we came up for air, he was smiling at me, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t look now, but the other guys are green with envy right now.”
I sneaked a peek behind him and, sure enough, most of his crew was staring at us, mouths wide open, almost as if paralyzed by an alien freezing ray. I laughed against his chest—which smelled of promises of pleasure of which I was yet to partake.
“I hate to make you wait, but I’ve got some work to do before the game. You’re staying for the game, right?” He had taken a few steps backward, but he still held on to my hand. “We can go do something afterward.”
Yes, I do want to do something for sure.
I sat down on the low wall, a premium spot to watch the game about to start. Some of the guys playfully commented on the kiss as Gavin walked into the building and then waved at me. My cheeks burned. I wasn’t used to being the one envied for romantic adventures. It was kind of nice, but unnerving as well.
My mind wandered to the day I’d met Gavin and every other time since then. My very active imagination had me come up with all kinds of scenarios where our lips always ended up joined together—not to mention other equally exciting parts of our bodies. Gavin was away for a long while, but lost in my daydreaming, I didn’t even notice until I heard the firemen yelling out something.
“Hurry up, bionic man.” I wasn’t sure who they were calling, but after counting the players already on the court, I figured it was Gavin—the only one still missing in action. The door to the building opened and the men all whistled at the same time. “Did you get enough time to put on lipstick?” Gavin emerged through the door and gave them all the finger as he trotted to the court.
My heart stopped—at least, that’s how it felt. Gavin’s sports shorts revealed a perfect, muscular leg and—
He has a fake leg.
I knew what I was seeing, but my brain refused to accept it. Gavin’s right lower leg was a mechanical one. He ran and jumped as easily and athletically as all the other men. On a prosthetic limb. How could that be? Why didn’t he ever say anything about it? I didn’t know what to think. Him being an amputee didn’t change the way I felt about him. Or did it? I was so confused.
For the rest of the game, I must have zoned out, because I couldn’t remember whether anyone scored or who was winning. My head was stuck on pause. I was only half-aware when the players high-fived each other and began filing off the court. With a start, I realized Gavin was heading toward me.
What am I going to do? What am I going to say?
As it turned out, my brain decided for me. “When were you going to tell me you have a fake leg?” Whoa, not exactly sensitive or nice, but I was angry. My hands were out of control, gesturing the strong feelings assailing my heart. “Were you going to wait until we got naked in your bedroom and surprise me? Did you think I couldn’t handle it? Or just thought it would be a great joke?”
Gavin grabbed my fast-moving hands and held them still against his chest. “Calm down, Ana,” he whispered. “I thought you knew. Everybody knows.”
“Obviously not everybody, because I had no freaking idea.” Anger seethed beneath my skin, burning its way out. “How was I supposed to know? And what do you mean, everybody knows?”
“It was all over the local news. My accident. My leg, or lack thereof.” Nothing was making much sense to me right now except the fact that I was furious. A boiling sense of betrayal, like bile, rose in my throat, threatening to gag me. “I’m so sorry, Ana. I really thought you knew. You’re not mad at me, are you? I didn’t mean to hide it from you or anything.”
I didn’t know how I felt about him at that moment. I was angry, that was certain. But was I mad at him or mad at myself for not having noticed? I had wondered about his funny kind of walk sometimes, but I thought it was due to some lasting injury, nothing this enormous. I couldn’t be mad at him for not having a leg, but I certainly could be mad at him for keeping it a secret, couldn’t I? How could he think I knew about it? I needed time and space to think about how I felt. I needed time to process it all.
“I have to go.” I pulled my hands from his and turned to walk away, but he was faster, running to stand in my way. “Gavin, I don’t know what to feel right now. Give me some time to think about it.” He nodded, his lips twisted into a frown. “I’ll call you.”
I hated myself for feeling like that. What was I thinking? Wasn’t Gavin the same amazing guy who had made my toes curl with his lips? Wasn’t he the same exact romantic fool who had prepared my favorite sandwiches for our first date? Wasn’t he the same gorgeous man I was falling in love with?
I hate this. I hate this.
As soon as I threw myself on top of my bed at home, the phone rang. It was Delta.
“How did it go? I’m surprised you’re home already. I thought I’d leave you a message.”
“Did you know?” I asked her, a terrible suspicion growing inside of me. Had all of them—even my best friend—been conspiring to make me look like a fool?
“Did I know what?”
“Did you know that Gavin is an amputee?” Saying the word made me feel small and petty. Why was I mad at him for something like that? “He said everyone knew. That it was in the news. Did you know about it, Delta?”
There was a gasp. “Fuck! Is he that Gavin?”
My voice became shrill. “You knew!”
“Now there, my friend. I didn’t know that was the Gavin in the news a few years ago.” She was using the tone of voice she always did when trying to appease me. “I had no way of knowing.”
“Goodbye, Delta.” I was done. For a moment, I wished I still had one of those old corded phones so I could slam the receiver. As it was, my clicking the off button on my cell phone didn’t have quite the same dramatic effect. It would have to do for now. I was going to wallow in my own misery—justified or not—if I wanted to.