going to help roll me out to the curb.”
He looked at me as if he were searching my face for some sort of clue. “You look like your face is about to break.”
“I’m all right.” I didn’t want Owen getting upset.
“I don’t even like these people touching you.” He flicked his fingers at them as if he were trying to spray water on them.
I held my hand up. “Please don’t, Owen, it’s all I can do to keep myself together.”
“Somebody said something to you,” he accused.
I was trying to keep my feelings from showing, but I guess I was doing a bad job.
“I knew it.” He looked around. “These people here need to go through a bad winter in an Appalachian hollow without enough firewood.”
I felt a giggle start in my belly. “Owen, you can always make me feel better.”
A nurse appeared and grabbed the back of the chair. “We’ll meet you outside, sir,” she said to Owen.
Owen held his index finger up. “You take good care of her, or you’ll have to answer to me.” Owen disappeared out the front door.
The nurse stared at him, but didn’t respond.
A few minutes later I was sitting in Owen’s pickup and we were heading toward my house. “So, what did they do to you? You look like you were tortured.”
“The doctor could have been nicer.”
He squeezed the steering wheel as if it were someone’s neck. “Sounds like they treat you as bad as they treated a little red-headed queer in the mountains.”
Owen had never told me a lot about his life, just made comments from time to time, but I guess he suffered a lot in the little southwestern Virginia town he grew up in.
“This will all be over as soon as I can get this surgery done.”
“Well, you shouldn’t let them cut you open just to please people dumber than a tick sucking on a gas can.”
Again, a tickling feeling started down in my tummy. “You can cheer me up no matter how I feel, Owen.”
“I mean it. I admit that I want you to have the surgery because I can just see us slipping and dipping and doing a sexy Tango. That will show those judges how it’s really supposed to be done, but if you’re having this surgery to make other people happy…”
“No, that’s not why. I’m really scared of developing diabetes and I’m already on the verge of having heart trouble. Every time I go to the doctor, the news gets worse and worse.”
Owen pulled into the long driveway leading to my front door. The morning light trickled through the trees and lit up Owen’s dirty dashboard.
“You go through with that operation, but only if it’s for you and not for all the people in the world that can’t tolerate someone if they’re different.” His lower lip puffed out.
“Don’t worry. I’m having this for the right reasons, but it’s starting to feel like I’ll never have this surgery. With this.” I patted my cast. “I’ll probably have to postpone it again.”
“You’ll get it, girl. If a little gay boy can survive in a hollow, then you can get this surgery and go on to become an award-winning ballroom dancer and lots of other things.”
I leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Can you be a doll and go in and have Maria Elena bring out Grandmother’s old wheelchair?”
He smiled, hesitated, then got out of the truck.
I knew he was about to ask if the wheelchair would be big enough for me. Owen, however, wasn’t the type to be so crass, even if he had grown up without running water. Imagine. Owen had tons of class even if he was born with nothing. And that doctor at the hospital probably had his diapers changed in a solid gold bassinette.
Maria Elena came running so fast I thought that ancient wheelchair would fall apart as she dragged it down the steps, clunking it onto the driveway. “Señorita Raquel, what happening to you?”
“A fall.” I sidled over and squeezed into the wheelchair trying to ignore the pinching pain as I sat sideways. When would this hell be over with? Owen wheeled me down to the
He looked at me as if he were searching my face for some sort of clue. “You look like your face is about to break.”
“I’m all right.” I didn’t want Owen getting upset.
“I don’t even like these people touching you.” He flicked his fingers at them as if he were trying to spray water on them.
I held my hand up. “Please don’t, Owen, it’s all I can do to keep myself together.”
“Somebody said something to you,” he accused.
I was trying to keep my feelings from showing, but I guess I was doing a bad job.
“I knew it.” He looked around. “These people here need to go through a bad winter in an Appalachian hollow without enough firewood.”
I felt a giggle start in my belly. “Owen, you can always make me feel better.”
A nurse appeared and grabbed the back of the chair. “We’ll meet you outside, sir,” she said to Owen.
Owen held his index finger up. “You take good care of her, or you’ll have to answer to me.” Owen disappeared out the front door.
The nurse stared at him, but didn’t respond.
A few minutes later I was sitting in Owen’s pickup and we were heading toward my house. “So, what did they do to you? You look like you were tortured.”
“The doctor could have been nicer.”
He squeezed the steering wheel as if it were someone’s neck. “Sounds like they treat you as bad as they treated a little red-headed queer in the mountains.”
Owen had never told me a lot about his life, just made comments from time to time, but I guess he suffered a lot in the little southwestern Virginia town he grew up in.
“This will all be over as soon as I can get this surgery done.”
“Well, you shouldn’t let them cut you open just to please people dumber than a tick sucking on a gas can.”
Again, a tickling feeling started down in my tummy. “You can cheer me up no matter how I feel, Owen.”
“I mean it. I admit that I want you to have the surgery because I can just see us slipping and dipping and doing a sexy Tango. That will show those judges how it’s really supposed to be done, but if you’re having this surgery to make other people happy…”
“No, that’s not why. I’m really scared of developing diabetes and I’m already on the verge of having heart trouble. Every time I go to the doctor, the news gets worse and worse.”
Owen pulled into the long driveway leading to my front door. The morning light trickled through the trees and lit up Owen’s dirty dashboard.
“You go through with that operation, but only if it’s for you and not for all the people in the world that can’t tolerate someone if they’re different.” His lower lip puffed out.
“Don’t worry. I’m having this for the right reasons, but it’s starting to feel like I’ll never have this surgery. With this.” I patted my cast. “I’ll probably have to postpone it again.”
“You’ll get it, girl. If a little gay boy can survive in a hollow, then you can get this surgery and go on to become an award-winning ballroom dancer and lots of other things.”
I leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Can you be a doll and go in and have Maria Elena bring out Grandmother’s old wheelchair?”
He smiled, hesitated, then got out of the truck.
I knew he was about to ask if the wheelchair would be big enough for me. Owen, however, wasn’t the type to be so crass, even if he had grown up without running water. Imagine. Owen had tons of class even if he was born with nothing. And that doctor at the hospital probably had his diapers changed in a solid gold bassinette.
Maria Elena came running so fast I thought that ancient wheelchair would fall apart as she dragged it down the steps, clunking it onto the driveway. “Señorita Raquel, what happening to you?”
“A fall.” I sidled over and squeezed into the wheelchair trying to ignore the pinching pain as I sat sideways. When would this hell be over with? Owen wheeled me down to the
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