“Hey, guys.”
Wyatt and Mitch looked toward the door as Callum rolled inside the bed and breakfast’s sitting room. His chair cleared the door, but barely. It was Alison’s job to locate and book sleeping accommodations. She did an excellent job, considering all the restrictions and requirements placed upon her by everyone involved. The hotel needed to be close to the venue, come with a good group rate, have enough rooms, but not too many, so there weren’t a lot of other guests. Handicap-accessible. A dining room, on premises, that provided home- cooked meals when possible. Free Wifi. The list went on and on.
But, most important to Callum and the team, it needed to feel like home.
Maybe not their own homes, which none of them seemed to see very often these days, but they all hated having to spend too many nights in typical hotel rooms. They begged Alison to find them the cutest, quaintest, friendliest place in town.
Most towns had these gems—bed and breakfasts, cottages, old castles and plantations that had been renovated over time. The whole team loved finding new buildings and homes to explore.
The handicap-accessible part, though, was the pricker in the bush. Many of these locations existed, in every city, town and country, but not all were wheelchair accessible. Castles rarely had elevators, ramps, wide doors and handicap showers.
Callum knew Alison struggled with each event, trying to find a place that suited the team, but would also be manageable for Callum and, ultimately, Mitch, who would be doing the legwork. She pulled rabbits out of hats.
The current rabbit was an old Victorian home with a huge wraparound porch, situated on a private lake. It had a large handicapped suite on the main floor. Not only was the building wheelchair-friendly, but so were the grounds. The porch had ramps on all four sides of the house and the paths that led around the gardens and the lake were not only extra-wide, but level enough that Callum could glide his chair along easily.
Alison said the owner’s mother had been in a wheelchair and so he’d done the remodel with her needs in mind.
It all suited Callum perfectly. The door frames might have been a bit tight, but considering the old-fashioned frame of the house, it was amazing the builders had been able to make the house work as well as it did.
As they were all saying good night, Callum said, “So, I think things went well with Claire tonight, don’t you?”
“She’s amazing,” Alison said.
“We really lucked out getting her,” Wyatt added. “Almost like it was meant to be.”
“I think it was,” Callum said. “Hey, Mitch, I’m gonna stay up for a bit more. When I’m ready to hit the hay, if I need help navigating anything in the room, I’ll call you; okay?”
“Sure,” Mitch called out as Callum rolled out the door.
• • •
The pebble skipped three times. Not bad, but she could do better.
Claire leaned back on the log and slid her hand along the ground until her fingers found the perfect-sized one. With a lift of her arm and a swipe through the air, the pebble flew across the water.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Dang it. She used to be able to do six.
“Not bad.”
Claire jumped off the log in surprise.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Callum asked from behind her.
“Oh! You startled me! I didn’t hear you coming.”
“My chair and I are like a stealth bomber,” Callum said, chuckling. “I’m good at sneaking up on poor, unsuspecting souls.”
“Well,” Claire said, taking her seat on the log once again. “You took me by surprise.”
She threw another pebble into the water. Three skips. She was getting worse.
“Were you okay with how tonight went?” Claire asked. She hoped he hadn’t come all the way down to the lake to give her a critique. She knew she probably needed one, and no doubt Frank would give it to her, tomorrow, but for tonight, she just wanted to revel in the fact she’d done it. She’d gotten up in front of all those people, sung, and survived. “My singing, I mean. I know I’m a bit rusty.”
“I was coming down to tell you how much I enjoyed it. You have a great voice.”
“Really?” Claire looked away from the lake and up at him.
“Of course, really.” He seemed startled by her question. “It’s pure and calming. I’m going to be very happy to have you precede me the next time we fill a football stadium.”
Claire picked up another pebble and rolled it around between her fingers. “The crowds you draw are amazing. You’ve gotta feel like a rock star.”
“Oh, they’re not coming because of me. They’re coming to hear about hope. I’m just the messenger.” Callum shrugged. “Perhaps a funny-looking messenger, but the messenger nonetheless.”
“Funny-looking?” Claire’s eyes filled with surprise. “I’d hardly say that.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you.”
“No, I mean it. Your eyes are striking.”
Callum laughed and shook his head. “Is that like saying a girl has a good personality?”
“No!” Claire was mortified. She hadn’t meant for her comment to come across that way. “It’s nothing like that! I’m serious. You have the kind of eyes a girl could get lost in.”
Callum cocked his head, his striking eyes looking at her curiously.
“At least…” Claire could feel her face reddening. “I imagine some girls have gotten lost in them…I…um…Can I ask you a question?” Claire needed to change the topic and quickly.
“Shoot.” The day was losing its light, but Claire could still see a smile on his face.
“I heard Alison and Wyatt talking about a bunch of wheelchairs and walkers being shipped to one of our upcoming events and…well, how many could you possibly need?”
Callum let out a loud, hearty laugh. Claire could feel the blush rising up her cheeks again.
“They’re not all for me. Boy, you really took a leap of faith, didn’t you? I would’ve thought you’d know a little bit more about our mission before signing up.”
“There wasn’t much time to do a whole lot of research.”
“Apparently not. Yes, a big part of what we do is travel the world to speak to large crowds. But the part that excites me the most is the equipment we’re able to provide to disabled people all over the world. When we go to impoverished places, we bring wheelchairs, canes and walkers. You have no idea the freedom mobility can add to someone’s life. Not being able to walk or get off your bed and then, suddenly, having a chair that will take you anywhere? It’s life-changing.”
“That’s incredible.”
“In a lot of Third World countries, people have never even seen a wheelchair.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not,” Callum said.
“You’re a very giving person, Callum Fitzgerald.”
“To whom much is given, much is expected.”
As she listened, Claire tossed the pebble she’d been playing with into the lake.
Four.
“You really believe that, don’t you?” she asked.
“Don’t you?” Callum asked her with such intensity, she was worried she might actually give a wrong answer.
“Well, sure. But, what I mean is, you really seem to feel like you’ve been given a lot, despite…” She motioned at him and his chair with her hand. “Everything.”
“Despite my only limb being an arm, you mean?”
Claire hesitated, fearing she was offending him, but wanting to be truthful. She nodded.
“You wait, Claire,” he said. “Just wait until we go to India or some African countries and you’ll see I have been given a lot. I have immense fortune. Maybe not the monetary type, and certainly not the physical kind, but the blessings I’ve received are enormous compared to the suffering that’s out there.”
She picked up another rock and tossed it.
Three. Damn.
“Are you not going to let me try?”
“Try what?” Claire looked up at him, startled.
“Tossing pebbles. You’re sitting here, having all the fun while we’re talking and not once have you offered me my own pebble.”
“Oh! I’m sorry.” She reached behind her and grabbed a handful of gravel. She put her hand out to Callum, who dug through it for a bit and then selected his stone.
“Now, Claire, watch carefully as I show you how it’s done.”
Callum swung his arm to the side and then, with one easy motion, tossed the pebble into the pond.
Seven. He’d gotten seven.
“As you should be,” Callum said, chuckling. “You might be able to outrun me, but very few people can out-skip my pebbles on a lake.”
“The world record is eighty-eight skips.”
“Is it?” Callum looked surprised at her knowledge.
“Yep. It was set in Pennsylvania.”
“You have to wonder at the amount of free-time that man must have had to get that good at skipping pebbles.”
“We all have our gifts.”
“That we do.” Callum smiled. “And, it seems yours might be random facts.”
Claire laughed. “Can I ask you another question?”
“You just did.”
Claire smiled and took his teasing as an invitation to proceed. “What’s Mitch’s job?”
“He’s my caregiver.”
“Your what? Don’t caregivers work on estates with gardens that need to be weeded?”
“First of all, m’lass,” Callum said slowly, his Irish brogue getting thicker, as he intentionally spoke to her like a small child. “That’s caretaker, not caregiver.”
Claire blushed again. Of course. She knew that.
“And, I am much more work than any estate. He assists me in my everyday tasks, the ones most bucks take for granted. You know, dressing, showering, cooking.”
Claire stared at him, a look of confusion on her face.
“Have I lost you?”
“By bucks, you don’t mean deer, do you?”
A loud “ha” escaped his lips.
“A buck, in Ireland, is a boy. A man.” Callum smiled.
“Gotcha.” Her eyes twinkled to indicate she’d been teasing him. She hadn’t known the term, but hadn’t needed it clarified, either. “I have to say,” Claire continued. “I didn’t realize you needed that much help. I mean, of course, you would. But…well…you seem so self-sufficient.”
She felt a little uncomfortable and was suddenly wishing she hadn’t brought up the topic. She’d been curious. After all, who wouldn’t be curious? She’d never met anyone with no legs and one arm before. In fact, before Callum, she’d never really even heard of anyone like that.
She found Callum so fascinating. Claire had this great curiosity and wanted to figure him out. Everything about him seemed so foreign, and not just his accent. His disability. His limitations. The way he overcame them. His outlook on life.
Even his chair. Claire had seen many a wheelchair in her life, both in person or on television, but she’d never seen one like this. It was black and electric, with four small wheels, instead of the traditional two larger ones in back. And, instead of having handles where someone might push him, there was a large black box. On that box was a lift which could lift his seat up and down. The first time Callum had hit the control and he’d risen up, not quite to her eye level, but to a considerably higher height than a typical chair, she’d jumped back.
“Weren’t expecting that, huh, love?” he’d said with a laugh and a wink.
No, she certainly hadn’t been expecting that.
“I am self-sufficient.” Callum’s voice took Claire by surprise. She’d been lost in thought, once again staring at his chair and wondering how it worked. She hoped he hadn’t thought she was gawking at him. “In fact, it would probably be more politically correct to call Mitch my assistant. Though, I did enjoy your reaction to the word caregiver.” Claire could see his grin. “Don’t get me wrong, Claire, I’m perfectly capable of living on my own. In fact, when we’re back in Atlanta, I do. I have my own house and live all by my lonesome. But when you’re working with less than half your parts, all those daily activities take up a lot of energy. And, though I hate to admit it, traveling is full of challenges for someone like me. I have a routine and a system at home. On the road, I never know what roadblocks I’m going to encounter, hour by hour. I’ve learned my strength is better spent preparing my speeches and meeting with people who come to hear me. You get the idea.”
Claire nodded. It all made sense. If she were to lose most of her limbs, she’d need more than one guy named Mitch to help her out. She’d need a full-time staff.
“It’s not ideal,” Callum continued. “I’d love to be able to travel and not worry about all the logistics. But, that’s not my reality. Thus, it’s more convenient to have someone help me out.”
Claire nodded.
“Listen,” Callum said, “it’s getting late and I know we both have a full day ahead of us tomorrow. But I also felt like we spent a whole lot of time tonight, talking about me. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“I’m sure there’s plenty of time for that. No rush.”
“Well, that’s where you and I disagree, Ms. Matthews. I would like to rush it along a bit, if you don’t mind. The Irish are not known for their patience.” He winked at her.
“Oh, by the way, I appreciated your wink today. I meant to tell you that.”
“Ah, did you? That’s wonderful. Did you feel the magic?” He grinned at her, and even with only the moon to light the lake, Claire could tell his eyes were sparkling with mischief.
“I felt something ,” Claire said. “But I think it was the hotdog I ate for lunch.”
Callum laughed again. Claire liked his laugh. It made her smile, even if she didn’t always let her lips show it.
“As I was saying, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow night. I know we’ll both be tired after tomorrow’s seminar, but we’ll be done by mid-afternoon. I thought dinner after that might be nice.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes. You know, that meal you eat a few hours after lunch?”
“Just you and me?”
“Yep.”
“Um.” Claire didn’t know what to say. She suddenly felt very awkward sitting here with Callum. They’d been having such an enjoyable time talking this evening. For the first time, in years, she’d actually gotten lost in the moment. She hadn’t forgotten her family or the sadness of the past couple of years, but she’d felt like Claire again. The Claire who used to feel a good conversation was one of the greatest joys in life.
But he’d asked her to dinner. Alone. It was one thing to sit outside at night, talking to her boss, while the rest of the team was twenty-feet away, but… Dinner. Alone. She couldn’t get her mind past those two words.
“Did that sound like I was asking you on a date?”
Claire felt her face blush for what must be the twentieth time that night.
“Oh…no…I…” Now she was completely mortified. She must be coming across as pathetic and desperate to him.
“Well, then, I must not have asked correctly.”
“Oh.” Claire was speechless. Now she really didn’t know what to say.
“So?” Callum looked at her, expectantly.
“So…what?” Claire asked.
“You’re leaving me hanging here, love, and I don’t have very good balance. Should I take your non-answer to be a no?”
“No…it’s just…I don’t…”
“Eat? Now, I know that’s not true because I’ve seen you. Just this evening, in fact.”
“No, I mean…I don’t…date.”
“Well, then, I guess it’s time we changed that. We can come back, rest and change and then how about I pick you up, at your room, around six o’clock? Does that work?”
“Um…I guess. Okay.”
“Great, then. It’s a date!” Callum pulled the joystick on his armrest, backing his chair up. Claire stood from the log and wiped any attached bark pieces off her bottom. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you this evening, Ms. Matthews.”
“Me, too,” Claire said, her voice barely above a whisper. Ten minutes ago, she’d been laughing and playfully teasing Callum and now, she felt so nervous around him, she was bordering on embarrassed.
“Ready to head back?”
She nodded and followed him up the path.
Just as they reached the porch, Claire heard Mitch call out, “Hey, Callum. You want to make sure all your stuff is laid out for tomorrow?”
“You bet,” he said. “Night, Claire. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Claire nodded and hurried off in the direction of her room, thankful Mitch had appeared when he did.
She had a date for tomorrow night. A date.
How had this happened? How had she let this happen? Her first date since becoming a widow. And it was with her boss.
She wanted to slap herself for getting into such a situation.
She wasn’t ready to date. She had no desire for any of that. She was here to sing. To see the world. To make new friends.
Not to meet a man.
Yet, she had.
And, to her surprise, she didn’t feel nearly as nervous or uncomfortable, or guilty about it as she’d thought she would.