Kathryn
Things with Callan were interesting.
It was obvious he was strong; the muscles had sort of given that away. Yet the way he’d helped her into the car and looked after her had been anything but rough. His touch had been light and his actions gentle on both the entry and exit of the vehicle that had taken them to the mall. She wasn’t sure what to make of that just yet, though it definitely surprised her.
“Interesting place,” he muttered, gently pushing her wheelchair from behind.
Kathryn was more than capable of doing it herself, but he’d simply come up and started doing so without asking. Now she was reluctant to tell him to stop, because she got the impression it made him feel good. As if it reinforced his reason for being her assistant in the first place. Which made her feel useless, but it also let her pause and think of where she wanted to go apply first.
“What is?”
“This place. The mall.”
She looked up behind her, confused. “You’ve never been to Clinton Heights mall before?”
“No,” he rumbled, sounding thoughtful.
“Are you from around here?”
He shook his head, her eyes barely catching the motion as she was already turning back around.
“Where’s home for you?”
“Jungle. Mountains.”
That was an odd answer, but she played it off. Plenty of people were private these days about where they lived or where they were from, and far be it from her to judge someone for wanting privacy. If only the government would be as respectful of it as others, they would all be much happier.
“Where do you want to go now?” he asked as they made it through the doors, the automated function having taken him a moment to figure out.
There were a few oddities about her assistant besides his outrageous size, but Kathryn brushed them aside as just him being a recluse. Maybe signing up to help her out was his way of trying to gain more social interaction or something. He seemed nice, and the government wouldn’t have sent him if they hadn’t vetted him completely, criminal check, that sort of thing.
“Let’s start with the big box stores and department stores,” she said. “They have greeters there often. Maybe they’ll consider taking me on for that, knowing as I get better they can transition me into something else.”
It pained her to have to consider donning a blue vest, but what else was she supposed to do? She hadn’t worked in a long time now. It was going to be quite a while before she would again, at least in any sort of permanent, full-time capacity that wasn’t a retail greeter.
Her mom was the perfect type for them to hire, but if Kathryn was going to become independent, living without support from her mother or the government, she would need something that paid better.
After a moment she realized they were no longer moving. She took control of the chair herself and spun it halfway back toward him. “Everything okay?”
Callan was looking around awkwardly. “Yes.” The single word was spoken in a deep, distracted voice, a tone she hadn’t heard from him yet. It had the strength and weight of voice that she might expect from someone of his size, and it was sexy as all hell with the rolling gravelly bass to it.
Get it together. He’s gorgeous and absolutely shredded. He’s not going to want a girl who can barely stand for a few minutes at a time before she collapses with exhaustion.
Properly chastised, she jerked her head at him, indicating he should come along. “Let’s go then. I want to make use of this unexpected burst of energy before it fades, because once it does I’ll be couch-ridden all evening.”
He nodded and stepped up alongside her as they wandered through the mall to her first stop.
“Okay, hold on here.” They were inside the first store now, hidden around a corner from the customer service desk where she had been directed to turn in her resume. Kathryn wanted to make a good first impression.
She put the brakes on the chair, and held out a sheaf of papers to Callan. “Hold these?”
He took them without a word. Kathryn placed both hands on the arms of the chair, and with a deep breath, slowly pushed herself to her feet. Almost immediately muscles began to protest the movement, especially as she put more and more weight onto her weak legs, forcing them to shoulder the load the chair normally did.
But she was standing. On her own. And though her muscles were unhappy, they weren’t shaking. Taking a few tentative steps she nodded, and reached out to Callan. “Top piece of paper please.”
He gently handed it to her, and then started to walk forward behind and slightly to her right.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m going to do this on my own. Without anyone’s help.”
The giant stopped in his tracks, eying her legs, and then nodded. “Yes, I believe you are.”
Buoyed by his faith in her Kathryn marched—or walked unsteadily, as the case may be—around the corner and right up to the desk. Placing one hand down on the counter she eased some of the weight from her legs. Not enough to make it obvious, but enough to give herself extra stamina before the muscles gave out.
Both the slim men with overly large glasses, long hair, and beards that needed a serious trimming behind the counter were busy. She took a moment to wonder about the most recent fashion trends and to whisper a prayer for the women that age, so that they would be strong enough to put up with the craziness until it fizzled out.
Her legs were beginning to scream with pain by the time one of them got to her, and his slow demeanor and general distaste for his job didn’t speed the process up either. Eventually though he did take her resume, though he made the remark several times that most applications were processed online these days.
Once he’d taken the paper and effectively dismissed her, promising to pass it on to the person in charge of hiring, she pushed off the counter and whispered a soft prayer as she began the long journey back to her wheelchair.
Her eyes immediately spied Callan, who had crept up to the end of the aisle to watch. Irritation was wrought on his face, probably from having been kept waiting and unable to do anything while she applied for a job.
Tough luck, bud. We’ve got more places to go after this. Better suck it up.
By the time she made it to the aisle he had, however, moved her wheelchair right to the front. It saved her five feet or so of walking, for which she was grateful. Kathryn sank into the chair, and almost immediately her legs blossomed in relief. She inhaled and then exhaled slowly, controlling her breathing as the Jell-O-like feeling left her lower limbs. It faded faster than she’d expected, leaving a little smile on her face.
Maybe she was making progress after all.
After a moment she nodded, her energy level spiking slightly, enough to get her moving on to the next place. Callan followed her as they went from store to store. She’d used up the last money on her library card to print twenty-three copies of her resume, and didn’t plan on leaving until she’d given them all out. Big box stores. Boutiques. Mall kiosks. Anywhere and everywhere she could, she pushed the piece of paper into someone’s hands until they finally accepted, ignoring the repeated phrase about “online applications only please.” She didn’t have a computer, so that wasn’t an option.
Callan trailed along behind her the entire time. Though she only managed to get up and walk for the first half-dozen stores, that was four more than she’d expected. Kathryn was feeling rather happy about the entire development, despite the lack of response from a single person when handing in her resume.
Callan, on the other hand, grew more and more irritated as the day went on. He was probably frustrated by the fact that all he did was follow her from one store to the other and held her wheelchair when she forced herself to stand up. For someone like him, who was probably used to being so much more useful, being relegated to escort level was probably humiliating. But for Kathryn it was a great day.
“Is that the last of them?” he rumbled as she pushed her way out of a travel center, a tiny little storefront compared to the much larger clothing and department stores.
“Yes,” she said, waving both hands, indicating they were empty. “All the resumes I could afford to print off have been handed out. We can go home now.”
“I’ll get the car,” he said, walking a short distance away. The face that had once shown signs of so much joy when she first saw him was now permanently twisted in anger.
Had she really been that bad to him? It didn’t seem like much to have asked. But maybe she’d offended him somehow by dragging him along for such a menial job. She didn’t know the parameters of the program, or what it was he was supposed to be helping her with. Perhaps she was treating him entirely wrong, and he was too polite to speak up?
Maybe tomorrow would be better.