Chapter 4
For the second day in a row, Gideon noticed the clock on his desk and groaned. He’d meant to call Lily yesterday and again today to apologize for his rude behavior. Once again, the day slipped past without his dialing her number, which Samantha had given him. And now, at five o’clock, it was time to leave work and get to the community center to mentor his boys. He picked up his cell phone and shook his head. She deserved more than a backhanded apology on his way between two places.
He leaned back and jabbed his fingers through his hair. He’d known the woman less than a week, and already he was on his second apology. Somehow, he had to get hold of himself with her and not act like a caveman. What was it he said to his boys when they talked about handling themselves with girls? Treat them with respect and make them feel good about themselves. Hah, he was the one to mentor them. He swallowed the nausea. If they could only see him now, they’d probably fire him. Could kids fire a mentor? He didn’t know, but if he continued like this, he suspected he might find out. Mentally, he added Claire to his apology list.
He grabbed papers from his desk, stuffed them into his briefcase and left. The community center was a subway and cab ride away, not far from Samantha’s and Lily’s apartments, and he volunteered there twice a week. While his job earned him money, his volunteer work satisfied his soul. He mentored a group of four, eleven-year-old boys. They didn’t have fathers, and he attempted to fill the place of an adult male and role model in their life. Sometimes he helped them with homework, other times he talked to them about their lives. Their conversations served as a potent reminder that no matter how much he might regret how his life had turned out, his suffering couldn’t compare to theirs. Being with those kids was the best way to draw him out of any lingering self-pity he might occasionally suffer. He’d also organized them, and some others, into a basketball team. After an hour of official mentoring, they spent another hour practicing.
With a quick glance at his watch, he hurried to make it there on time. The last thing he wanted was for the boys to think he wasn’t coming. Enough people had abandoned them in their short lives. He would never let himself be part of that list. His pulse quickened as he looked forward to seeing the boys. He enjoyed being with them as much as they did with him. So why is it so easy for me to be myself with them and not Lily? He’d have to think about that one.
Inside the community center, he said hello to Tony, the director. He was one of his closest friends, one of the few he’d allowed himself to rely on. If Tony knew how he’d been treating Lily, he’d yell at him—deservedly. Gideon and Tony grew up together, and coincidentally found each other again at the center. They hung out in their spare time and sometimes played pick-up games at the park. Rushing into the study room, he found the boys already seated at the table.
“Sorry I’m late, guys,” he said as he hugged each one or ruffled their hair. His chest expanded with pride and love as he greeted “his boys.” Their bony shoulders poked through the crisp school uniforms. The beginnings of muscle were forming beneath his fingers and it was only a matter of time before they shot up and filled out. At first, the boys had been distant with him, but by now he’d gained their trust and they’d come to depend on him for a certain amount of affection. Their homework was already open on the table, so Gideon spent an hour helping them with math, English and social studies.
“So what did you do when we were gone?” asked Philip. He was the smallest of the four boys, but also the loudest. He was somewhat of a daredevil, ready for anything.
“Well,” he said as he figured out what parts of his life would interest them the most, “I played Trouble with a friend of mine.” Shouts of laughter, squeaking couch springs and sneakers slapping the floor filled Gideon’s mind as he remembered the countless hours his boys spent playing the game.
“Yeah, who with?” asked Jonathon, a blond-haired shy boy who trusted Gideon the least out of any of them. He folded his arms, as if he dared him to answer. It was always Jonathon who leapt to the conclusion Gideon wasn’t coming, or changed his mind and didn’t like them anymore.
Gideon waited for a moment to get his full attention and said, “A little girl who lives in the same building as my sister. She and her mom moved here a few months ago.”
“Why are you hanging out with girls?” asked Paul, with disgust. He was the tough one and smart.
That was a very good question, but not for the reasons Paul would think. And he didn’t think, “because my sister is playing matchmaker,” was a wise answer for an eleven-year-old. “Because her mom worked late and my sister was watching her. I thought she might like to play the game, since I’ve seen how much you all like it. We played it a few times until her mom came. It kept her mind off of how late her mom was.” Thinking of Claire now made him smile, and thoughts of Lily did nothing to get rid of it.
“I bet you made her feel better,” said Angelo. He comforted everyone and always understood exactly what others were feeling. He was the peacemaker of the group.
“I think I did,” Gideon said as he ruffled his hair.
“Where’s her dad?” asked Paul.
“Her dad died a few years ago,” Gideon answered. What must it be like to be a single mother? She had to have had different dreams for her life…kind of like him. He swallowed.
“So she’s kind of like us, huh?” Angelo observed with a knowing look.
“Kind of,” Gideon said. “But she’s much younger than you all are. She’s only six.” And a pistol. Was Lily like that as a child, or did Claire take after her dad?
“Maybe she’d like to visit sometime,” Angelo added.
“Ew, Angelo, she’s a girl!” Paul and the others shouted.
“Yeah, but she needs someone as bad as we do,” he said.
The boys quieted for a moment.
“Yeah, but Gideon is ours,” said Jonathon. “She can’t take him away from us.”
His heartbeat slowed and his throat ached. They were desperate for affection, affection he had plenty to share. Gideon went over to Jonathon and put his arm around his shoulder. Jonathon stiffened beneath his bicep. “No one is going to take me away from you, Jonathon,” he said gently. “I love all of you and can still love all of you, even if I have other friends.”
The boy thought for a minute. He leaned into Gideon, who squeezed him in a hug. “Okay, she can come. But not too often.”
Gideon hid a smile and led the group into the gym for their basketball practice. The boys practiced dribbling and passing. He drilled them until he was confident in their preparedness for their next game, gave them a pep talk and sent them on their way. As the boys left the gym, the faint scent of old sneakers and sweat remained behind.
With a shake of his head, Gideon went home, realizing he’d added another child to his list of responsibilities—Claire.
****
Lily and Anne entered Starbucks on their way home from work. Halfway to the counter, Lily stopped short, unable to prevent the mayhem she unintentionally caused behind her – Anne’s leap backward; the plunk of her purse as it dropped to the floor; the clatter of her wallet, lipstick, comb and assorted change as they spilled out of the bag. The pungent coffee odor that would soon permeate her hair and clothing and her favorite song that floated out of the mounted speakers faded into the background.
Lily groaned. Dark blond hair. Musk aftershave. Wheelchair. It couldn’t be. How many men in wheelchairs are there anyway? Maybe it’s like buying a new car—as soon as you decide on a make or model, suddenly, that’s all you see on the road. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the place where his hair met the back of his collar. Had it grown longer since the last time she’d seen him? Did he let it grow on purpose, or was he overdue for a haircut? She blinked when she realized she stared, but figured it was okay if he couldn’t see her do it. Yup, it’s him. She recognized his hand, his left one to be exact—long fingers, squared-off nails, and a mole at the knuckle by the pinky. She’d spent the entire movie staring at it resting close to her own. Tanned, with the light-colored hairs on it—not too much, but enough to ooze masculinity.
In fact, she’d spent the better part of the movie wondering what it would feel like. Her mind drifted to his hand at the oddest moments, like in the middle of a meeting, or between bites of a sandwich. She’d wanted to feel his warm caress on her face, or gripping her fingers as it now gripped his wallet. And it frustrated her, because that hand belonged to the most ornery man she’d ever met.
The man who was here, in her Starbucks. Confronted by him in real life, rather than a figment of her overactive imagination, her mind returned to their last encounter at brunch, her apology, his lack of one, and she fumed. First he invades my brunch and now he takes over my Starbucks?
“What did you do that for?” Anne asked. “I practically knocked you over.”
The annoyance in Anne’s tone jolted Lily back to reality. She nodded toward Gideon and Anne followed her gaze.
“Is that him?” Anne whistled.
“Shh, he’ll hear you,” she whispered.
“So what?” Anne lowered her voice, but not by much. With her strong New York accent, everything she said sounded loud. Except for when she modulated her speech at a business presentation. But here in Starbucks, with the sudden opportunity to see Lily’s man, all hope of vocal refinement evaporated.
“He’s the last person I want to see.” Lily paused to let another customer go in front of her.
“Well, I for one want to see what your mystery man is like.” And with that, Anne strode up next to him at the counter and ordered a Double Grande Half-Caf Latte.
Lily searched for a place to hide. Other than retreating to the bathroom like a chicken, there was no place to go. She tried to gauge the timing and hoped he’d be gone when it was her turn to order. Of course, how she would escape his notice was anybody’s guess. A barista placed Anne’s order, while another one placed Gideon’s—Espresso. “Right, like he needs any more caffeine,” she muttered. Unfortunately, her mutter carried to Gideon’s ears and he turned around.
“What was that?”
His voice was gravelly and the sound of it did weird things to her stomach. The guy knew how to show off his physique. A shock of hair fell over his forehead and he brushed at it impatiently, one eyebrow raised as if daring her to be rude again. Cut a little longer than what Lily was used to, it curled slightly over the collar of his brown leather jacket. An olive green polo-style shirt emphasized well-developed pecs and brought out the color of his eyes behind his glasses. Legs encased in khaki pants and feet in brown loafers rested on the foot pedals of his chair. Meanwhile, Anne sized him up like she would a prime piece of meat.
Lily’s face heated as she ordered her coffee. “I’m sorry, it was just a joke.” She attempted to deflect any other comments as she faced Anne. When in doubt, resort to manners. “Anne, this is Gideon, my best friend’s brother. Gideon, this is my boss and friend, Anne.”
She reached for her coffee and gazed at the door, hoping to escape. Although Gideon hadn’t responded to her comment yet—he was busy shaking Anne’s hand—she figured her window of opportunity to escape before he commented, or she exploded, was slim. Unfortunately, Anne had other plans.
“Why don’t we all sit and chat,” she suggested, her voice higher pitched and her eyes shining brighter than usual.
Great. “Oh, I don’t know if there’s time—” Lily began to answer, tapping her foot, but Anne interrupted.
“Of course there is. It’s early still.” She ignored Lily and plowed ahead of them to grab a table.
Seizing the opportunity, Gideon focused on Lily. “I’m glad I ran into you here. I wanted to apologize for my behavior Sunday.” His words came fast, as if he couldn’t wait to get them out. “I meant to call you, but things have been hectic and I was waiting for the right moment so I wouldn’t be rushed. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was angry with my sister and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
He was good at apologies. Chastised expression, sincere tone of voice, direct eye contact; the guy had it all. And somehow, no matter how angry she was, it evaporated when he said he was sorry. “Thank you. Let’s forget about it.” And she meant it. She moved closer.
“Come on, guys, here’s a table,” Anne called, startling Lily. As they continued toward her, Lily stopped short again, forcing Gideon to swerve to avoid running into her.
“Uh, Anne?” Anne didn’t respond. She was too busy putting her stuff down.
Gideon wheeled over to another table, and Lily followed. Anne flushed—she’d chosen a table on the upper level of the store, without a ramp for Gideon.
“Oh what a goof. I’m sorry,” she bellowed. Lily cringed at the looks people threw their way, but Gideon appeared not to notice as he quietly moved a chair away and made space for the women.
“Lily, sit and drink your coffee before it gets cold,” he commanded. She could swear his eyes twinkled with merriment at her discomfort, lightening his expression, but maybe it was the light reflecting off his glasses.
The three of them sat and immediately Anne monopolized the conversation.
“So, Gideon, what do you do?”
“I’m a marketing executive for a pharmaceutical company.” He pushed his glassed onto the bridge of his nose.
“Have you been doing it long?”
“About ten years.”
Anne paused for a drink of her coffee. “Where are you from?”
“Outside of Chicago, originally.”
As the barrage of questions continued, Lily winced. She loved Anne, but knew how focused she could be when she set her mind to something. And right now, she set her mind on Gideon.
“Have you always been in a wheelchair?”
Lily choked on her coffee, and Gideon reached over to pat her on the back. His actions made her more embarrassed, and she ducked as she dried the spilled coffee. Until his pats changed to a brief caress. When the warmth of his touch permeated through her shirt, she didn’t know whether to kiss Anne for putting her in this position, or slither to the floor and die for having such a reaction to a man’s hand on hers. She stiffened, and he pulled away, making her miss the contact. Ugh. “Anne!” Lily interrupted, when she could catch her breath.
“It’s okay, Lily,” Gideon said. “I was waiting for her to get to the crux of it.” He turned to Anne and answered her question, while Lily contemplated sinking to the floor.
“No, I was in a car accident three years ago. I have an incomplete spinal injury that just affects my legs.” He winked at her. “I’d be happy to go into more details if you’d like, but I don’t think the middle of Starbucks is the place.” Lily didn’t know what to say. He didn’t ever act as if he wanted sympathy, but he must have gone through a difficult time. Her throat ached with all the things she couldn’t say, especially in front of Anne.
Anne nodded. “I like you.”
“Thank you. You’re very direct. I hope I passed your test.” He checked his watch. “I hate to break this up, but I’ve got to get home. I’ve got practice in an hour.”
“Practice?” Lily asked as they headed toward the door.
“Basketball practice. I’m playing in a tournament tonight.” Samantha hadn’t mentioned her brother was on a basketball team. Then again, Samantha hadn’t mentioned anything about her brother.
Outside, Anne said goodbye and left Lily and Gideon alone. The chilly spring air made Lily shiver. She smelled the fresh roasted coffee beans and she took a deep breath as she stalled.
“Gideon, I’m really sorry about in there. Anne’s not blessed with a lot of tact. I hope she didn’t offend you.”
He pinned her with his gaze, leaning forward in his chair. “She didn’t offend me. I’m used to questions. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t asked me any.”
Lily recoiled as if struck. “What do you mean?”
“I mean most women are curious about a guy in a chair. You stare at me, but you don’t ask any questions.” He looked like he was daring her to deny it.
Lily thought Anne’s questions would have embarrassed Gideon. Instead, her lack of them upset him. She’d attempted to respect his privacy. Instead, she’d offended him. She couldn’t do anything right around him. Her stomach sank. She bit her bottom lip and dropped to a bench next to him. She rested her palm on the wheel of his chair and ran her finger along the smooth, cool metal frame.
“I’m sorry. I don’t stare at you because of your wheelchair. I stare at you because I’m trying to figure you out, to gauge your mood.” And because he was gorgeous, but she wouldn’t admit that to him. She was drawn to his solemn brown eyes behind his glasses, to their changing shade reflecting his emotions. “You’re gentle and sweet with Claire, but with me you run hot and cold. Sometimes you talk to me and other times you look right through me as if I’m not there. Usually, you’re angry, and I can’t figure out what I did to make you so. I’m too busy trying to find my footing with you to even think about questions I might want to ask.” She met his gaze and those fascinating brown eyes were wide and dark and sorrowful. She had an insane urge to brush her hand over his brow. Instead, she shook her head. “I certainly never meant to make you think I was staring at you because of your wheelchair. To be honest with you, I don’t notice it much.”
His nostrils flared as his jaw dropped. “You don’t notice the chair?”
“No, it’s not something I focus on. I mean, I notice it like I notice the intriguing cleft in your chin, or your sexy smile. But that’s all. Frankly, I notice your attitude more.” As the words left her mouth, she wished for a crack in the sidewalk to swallow her whole. But like most of her wishes these days, it remained unanswered.
Gideon flushed, but not in anger this time and Lily let out a breath. The heightened color only added to his looks. “I really do owe you an apology. So how about I atone for my poor manners by taking you and Claire out sometime?” He clenched his fist in his lap and held his breath.
“That would be great. I know she’d love it.” She didn’t dare to consider her own feelings, because those might lead her down a road that she wasn’t yet ready to travel. At least, she didn’t think she was.
His expression softened and his eyes got that twinkle in them again. His fist unclenched. “Are you both free tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Lily’s heart beat faster and Gideon smiled, making her heartbeat flutter.
“I’ll see you then.”
What in the world did I do? Every time we see each other we end up yelling and I accepted an invitation from him? I need my head examined. Or at least a large bottle of aspirin. Yet for the first time, a flutter of hope made her think perhaps she might be getting closer to traveling down that road with Gideon.
****
Gideon dialed his sister’s number on his cell phone as he returned home to his apartment to change for practice. She answered on the third ring.
“Hi, Gideon, what’s up?” Her voice was distracted, but he wanted to have this conversation now.
“Listen, I wanted to discuss brunch the other day.”
She cleared her throat. “What about brunch? Other than your rude behavior, I mean.”
Gideon swore to himself. “You know, you have a lot of nerve, kiddo. First you try to set me up, when I’ve expressly told you to stay out of my life. Then you criticize me for my behavior. What about yours?”
“There is nothing wrong with my behavior, brother dear,” Samantha refuted, her tone clipped. “I’m not the one who was rude to my guest.”
“That’s right, your guest. Not mine,” Gideon retorted. “You’ve got the relationship with her. I don’t.” Just because he was taking Lily and Claire out tomorrow night didn’t mean it was a relationship. It was an apology. Nothing more.
“Well you would if you’d get off your ass and do something about it.”
“Are you serious?” Gideon asked. A red haze prevented him from seeing anything. What the heck was wrong with his sister?
She gasped. “Sorry, that came out wrong.” Her tone softened.
He took a deep breath. “Samantha, I know you’re doing what you think is best, but believe me, I don’t want your help. I am perfectly happy just the way I am.”
“Are you?” Samantha asked. “I mean really?”
Gideon closed his eyes for a minute. He had a good job, great friends and meaningful volunteer work. He mentored kids that he’d come to love. Just because a part of him was hollow, well, there was nothing he could do about it. He was better off accepting things and making the best of it. It was less painful. No one could be one hundred percent happy except in a fairy tale. “There are a lot of definitions of happy, so yes, I am. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. Okay, I’ll lay off.”
“Thank you. Have a good night,” he said and they hung up.
As he prepared for basketball practice, Gideon evaluated his strange behavior. He never allowed himself to get too close to women. Not after what happened after his accident. Yet, here he was, suggesting he and Lily spend time together. He went to great lengths to make sure people didn’t judge him by his wheelchair. Yet, he wanted her to ask about it so he could prove himself to her. Prove he was still a man, he could do everything other men could do, just maybe a little differently.
As much as he found himself attracted to her, a relationship with her was impossible, so he’d worked to head her off first. Physically, there was nothing to prevent him from pursuing one with her; he didn’t want to put her, or any woman for that matter, in the position of feeling guilty for saying no, or pitying him and saying yes. However, her honesty today threw him, and instead of keeping his distance, he was spending the day with a woman who called his smile sexy and him rude. His heart ached. Women hadn’t noticed or commented on his looks in what felt like forever. And when they did, he’d never been known for a bad attitude.
He slammed the locker closed and ground his teeth together. It was time to make a change, to show her a glimpse of the man he used to be, even if he’d never let it go further than a glimpse.