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“Yes! Once Henry was onboard, it was easy to get things done, from what Jack told me. Some of the rooms will be more accessible than others, as we planned, but the six extra they approved they want to be fully accessible like mine.”
“This is such amazing news, Irving!” she sighed, hugging me again. Having her wrapped around me felt so good that I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to kiss her, but we’d agreed to stay platonic at work since Dawson lived in the building now. “Wait,” she said, standing again. “Is there really any bad news?”
“There is,” I said, a real frown taking the place of my smile. “They can’t start the construction on the apartments until January. While the board was dragging its feet, the construction company moved on to other jobs. Now we have to wait for them to finish their current one before they can return and finish ours.”
Hazel leaned against the table. “That’s fair. The board was being a pain, so I don’t blame the construction company for walking.”
“What do you think our next move should be?”
She thought for a moment and then pushed herself up. “I say we go back through those applications and find six more people who need housing. Once we have all eighteen applications chosen, we contact them. If we let them know the apartments are under construction and they can sign their lease now, we can move other people in without looking like we forgot about our friends with disabilities.”
“Yep, I like the way you think, Hazel Cane. I have the applications on my screen in the office because that was my plan too. It’s exciting to think we’re just weeks away from filling this place up!”
“Let’s do it!” she said, forgetting about her sorting as we wheeled toward the office. “Nothing brings me more joy than telling people we have a home for them. Somewhere to start fresh that’s safe, clean, and welcoming. I’ll never get tired of it,” she said as she skipped ahead of us into the office.
All I could think as I watched her disappear was, I’d never get tired of her and the joy she brought me.
∞∞∞
What on earth am I doing up here?You’re doing what Hazel keeps telling you to do. Force a change.I tried not to snortle at the thought. As if that’s going to happen with a poem, but what’s the old saying about nothing ventured? Here goes nothing.
The room was silent, so rather than introduce myself and change the vibe, I opened with the first line. “Sunshine. Breeze. Fear. Hurry. Pack. Run. A bullet hanging in the air. No feelings. No desires. Only direction and velocity. A gentle breeze. A tethered breath. A life changed. Shredded dreams. Tears. Pain. Hunger. Lonely days and endless nights. The only relationship is loss. No score kept. No hurt tendered. No expectations. No judgment in the night as I lay on a feather bed of stone under shriveled, matchstick, lifeless legs. No pain. No joy. No commitments. No gentle touch of a lover, only self-pleasure in a bed of what could have beens, while the soul overflows with raging self-hatred of circumstance and fate. A shadow. An empty shell. A soul without a mate. A sunny afternoon. A bullet. An endless run on desolate, barren limbs.”
You could hear a pin drop when I lifted my chin. Before I could roll away, they started clapping, standing one by one until only one sat, and then she stood. She stood with her hands near her lips and tears in her eyes. Did I see pity in those eyes?
From a distance, all I could see was understanding, acceptance, and a touch of sadness. I also saw an abundance of hope, but there was no pity. Hazel made me want to risk everything, but as I rolled forward, the chair reminded me that she deserved more than I could ever give her. In a way, refusing to commit to her was a twisted way of loving her.
I didn’t get far before the rest of the audience circled me. For the next ten minutes, I was trapped in a group of people who thought I was so inspirational forsplayingopen my pain—they actually used the word splaying. Then came the encouraging stories about someone they knew,kind of like you,who found love, so never give up. It was a very inspirational porn kind of feeling that I needed to escape. They meant well, but their platitudes were hollow, and their ability to understand, to really put themselves on my level, was superficial. Finally breaking through the crowd, I rolled over to Hazel, where she held Star for me.
“Hey,” I said, but it was awkward and stilted. I took a moment to listen to that voice in my gut, and what it said was I had just changed things between us, and we both knew it.
Hazel held Star’s leash out. “Hey. Ready to go?”
I guess that voice in my gut was correct. Usually, she wanted to know everything all at once, so it was unusual for her not to ask a million questions. As we left the library, I realized that was one of the things I loved about her. Her curiosity was so innocent and childlike, but she owned it in a way that made you want to answer all her questions.
“Do you want to go to the diner or the pub for dinner?” I asked, hoping to spark some conversation with her as we hit the sidewalk.
“I’m not hungry,” she answered, her voice far away. “Is it okay if we just go home?”
Rather than wait for an answer, she turned toward New Beginnings, which blessedly wasn’t far away. This walk had turned awkward quickly, and I struggled with the questions I wanted to ask. I reminded myself that, ultimately, it didn’t matter what her answers were. My poem was a reminder that as sweet, caring, and wonderful as Hazel is, none of that is for me. Alone meant my heart didn’t get hurt again.
But did it?I no longer felt safe with Hazel. I don’t mean in a physical sense but more in an emotional sense. Working with her is a joy I’ve never had in the workplace before. She’s witty, intelligent, empathetic, and a problem solver. She isn’t afraid to admit when she doesn’t know something and willingly seeks answers from those who do. Her ego is nonexistent unless you’re talking about candy canes. Then she might toss the expert word around, but mostly, she’s genuine in awhat you see is what you getkind of way. The problem is, I’m a physically in-your-face guy who can’t pretty up his life when a woman enters it. I remembered the night in my bathroom when I had to send Star to get her. Did I expect her to stay? No. While the situation had been unfortunate, I had hoped it would keep her from wanting more than I could give. When it comes down to it, that’s the truth of the matter. My ability to give away my heart is as paralyzed as my legs after so many years of living through loss.
That’s not what happened, though. Hazel hadn’t helped me get back into my chair and leave me to my business. Instead, she took my request for help as an invitation to stay. She didn’t recoil at the sight of my legs or my request for help. Instead, she climbed into my bed and comforted me when I was desperate to feel something other than shame. The strangest part is that she never left.
I glanced at her as she trudged down the sidewalk, her shoulders slumped in defeat, and corrected myself. She hadn’t left yet, but that changed tonight. I had no doubt when I saw the look on her face as she held the door open for us.
“Forward,” I commanded Star. He pulled me through the door to stop on the rug as he’d been trained.
“Thanks for going with me tonight,” she said, pulling her hat and gloves off. “I’m going to head back to my place to shower. Do you need any help?”
“Nope, I’m good,” I said, unsure what to say to her. Reading her was suddenly impossible, which I never expected. She was usually an open book, but she’d slammed the covers closed tonight. Was I supposed to say something to make her feel better, or was she drawing a line in the sand? Was she trying to tell me that our relationship had converted to colleagues and nothing more?
Hazel headed down the hallway without so much as an ear scratch for Star. Not that she should with him wearing his vest, but she usually would have at least asked to love him up a bit. Star looked back at me after he watched her go, and I could tell he was as confused as I was.
“Women, Star. You know I don’t get them either.”
Despite that, as I let myself into my apartment, I couldn’t help but wonder what Hazel was thinking. She hadn’t said a thing about the poem, but again, she didn’t need to. Her reaction said it all.
