Page 92 of Take Me
“Close.”He winks.“Went to a singles’ thing at Cal’s place.O’Brien’s hosts these speed dating nights the last Thursday of every month.”
“Zoe mentioned it.”Pretty sure it was her idea.“Ruby was there?”
“Ruby was there,” he confirms.“And I waited all evening for a chance to talk with her.As soon as she sat down, I gave her my best line.The one I’d been saving all night.”
“You have a line?”I don’t picture my dad as a guy who picks up women in bars.
“You betcha.”He grins.“I said, ‘You know what I can’t stand?’Didn’t give her a chance to reply.Just cut right in with, ‘Let me rephrase—You know what?I can’t stand, but I’d sure love to take you on a date sometime.Anyplace you’d like to go, as long as it’s wheelchair accessible.’”
I laugh as I picture my dad saying that.“Let me guess—she was charmed.”
“Yep.”He winks.“Turns out she likes a man with a sense of humor.Kinda like my daughter.”
He adds that last part like an afterthought, and I know he means Mason.For the past several days, I’ve been dodging the subject with Dad.Might as well keep dodging.“What did she say to that?”
“She told me she liked how I roll.Then she winked and said, ‘pun intended,’ which I thought was clever.So I followed up and told her I’m really intorollplay, which made her laugh again.”
“Did she agree to go out with you right away?”
“Oh, she made me work for it.She’s a spicy one.You know how some people get weird and uncomfortable when they’re talking to a guy in a wheelchair?”
“Yeah.”If I had a nickel for every stranger who flat-out avoided him, rather than risking awkward conversation, I’d have a whole lot of nickels.“People get nervous they’ll stare at your legs or say the wrong thing or ask the wrong question.”
“Ruby’s not like that.”He seems tickled by it.“She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘Can you feel your legs at all?’And you know me, I always appreciate the blunt questions.I said, ‘No, ma’am.But mine was an incomplete spinal cord injury, so I do have sensation in some spots.’”
I have a hunch I know where this is going.“What did she say to that?”
“She got kinda flirty and leaned in close.She asked, ‘What spots are those?’And I leaned in, too, gave her a suggestive smile, and said, ‘Well, ma’am—I might not be able to feel my legs, but I can feel what’s between ’em just fine.”
“You did not!”I know he did.That’ssomy dad.“How did she react to that?”
“She laughed and pushed out from the table.Tugged up her skirt just a little and crossed her legs, letting me get a good look at ’em.Ruby’s got one helluva set of stems on her.”
“I believe it.”Zoe and Cass used to complain that their mother was a bit of a sexpot.She’s mellowed a little, and her daughters decided it wasn’t so bad to have a mom they could talk to about anything.Literallyanything.
“Anyway, she’s flashing those gams, giving me an eyeful.”My father pretends to fan himself.“Then she leans in again and whispers, ‘If you can’t feel your legs, would you like to feel mine?’”He grins as I burst into laughter.“We’ve been together ever since.”
“Oh my God, Dad—that’s amazing.She’s lucky to have you.”
“And I’m lucky to have her.”He sips from his water glass, meeting my eyes as he sets it down.“Would it bother you if I said I’m in love with Ruby?”
“It wouldn’t.”I check in with myself to make sure.“I’d be ecstatic for you.Truly.I’m assuming she loves you back?”
“She says so, yep.”He grins.“It’s getting kinda serious.”
I miss my mom fiercely in that moment.But also, I’m thrilled for my dad.He deserves to find someone who makes him this happy.“It couldn’t have happened to a better guy.”
“Thanks.”He gives me a serious look.“Look, honey.I know we’ve been dancing around what happened between you and Mason.You and me, we’re not big on sharing our feelings.”
“Dad—”
“No, wait.Let me finish.”He spears a tomato, chewing a while like he’s collecting his thoughts.“Love means being brave sometimes.It means putting yourself out there, even if you might get hurt.”
“I can handle pain.”I once cut myself on a tailpipe and pushed through the workday with a rag tied around my arm.It needed six stitches, but I didn’t cry once.
“I know you’re tough,” my dad says.“And I know you can handle the hurt.But embarrassment, pity, shame—those things cut pretty deep.”
“I hate it,” I admit.“The worst thing in the world is having people feel sorry for you.”
