Chapter Twenty-Five
I set my fork down on my plate. “What kind of game?” I ask, coy.
“I was thinking a game of blackjack,” he says, not quite what I’d hoped for. For someone who said she didn’t want anything to do with him, I’m sure acting pretty horny. Thus is the power of physical attraction.
“Or we could shoot a game of pool, or some ping pong.”
I smile. “No… and no,” I say. “I suck at both of those games, but I’m in for a little blackjack.”
He drains his glass of wine. “Sounds like a plan.”
“You sure love your games,” I tease. “Such a player,” I quip, a play on words.
His grin fades. “I just want to have a good time… enjoy life,” he says. “Is that so bad?”
I consider his question for a second. “No… I think that’s what we all want. But most of us are too stupid to stop and smell the flowers.”
“Very well put,” he says. “Life is tough, isn’t it?”
Yes, I think. Life as a single mom with not much money certainly is. I wonder what’s so hard about his life, but of course, I don’t ask.
“I’m the only one left,” he says. “It’s all on me. I’m the only one who can take care of him.”
For a split second, I wonder who he’s talking about, but then I remember. Of course, his paraplegic father. “Does your dad live close by?” I ask. “How does he fare? Does he have a hard time doing the usual things?”
“Well, he’s pretty close, actually.” He points up. “He lives upstairs.”
“He lives here?” I say, not quite hiding my shock. I recover quickly with a smile. “And here I thought it was just us two here tonight.”
“He’s on the top floor,” he clarifies. “You probably haven’t noticed how handicap friendly this home is.”
I hadn’t, but now that he mentions it… yes, very much so. “I did notice the ramp leading to the entry.”
“Extra wide doorways, ramps, elevator…”
“There’s an elevator here?” I ask. “Where is it? I didn’t even notice.”
He smiles. “It’s hidden behind a door. It’s a lift to be more accurate, not an elevator.”
“Oh… what’s the difference?” I ask, fascinated.
“A lift is usually smaller, more simple, doesn’t require a shaft.”
“Interesting.”
“Let’s go for a ride,” he suggests. “Let’s try it out. I rarely use it.”
“Right now?”
“No time like the present.”
We leave our dinner, and I follow him like a puppy, eager to see. He slows down as we get to the main hall, and he opens an inconspicuous door. Hidden back there is the cutest elevator I’ve ever seen. There’s aPulp Fictionposter on the wall. He grabs my hand, and closes the door.
“My dad’s a Tarantino fan,” he explains.
The lift is quite cozy, and we find ourselves very close. Too close.
He presses a button, and we ascend slowly. Very slowly. “Sorry, it’s not the fastest lift on the planet, but I can think of many ways we can pass the time.” His finger is playing with the collar of my plaid shirt. I stand very still, anticipating his next move. He slides it down leisurely to the top button.
