I’d met one young lady, Summer, who had lost both of her legs during a suicide-bomber attack in Iraq. She was over there in the military and believed that she was doing the right thing. I will never forget her expression when she described her feelings one day in the hospital weight room.
“Damon, do you think that I’m pretty?” she asked me out of the blue.
“No,” I said. Once she frowned and looked away, I added, “You’re not pretty; you’re gorgeous! Little girls and teenagers are pretty. Women are gorgeous.”
A smile spread across her face. “You really think so?”
I stopped walking on the treadmill, grabbed a towel, and went to sit beside her. She had been lifting hand weights from her wheelchair.
“Summer, I realize that this is hard on you. Losing your legs, in such a horrible way at that, must have been terrible.”
“You lost your arm.”
“Yes, I did, but it’s okay.” I moved my prosthetic arm back and forth. “I’m as good as new.”
“How did it happen?”
I shrugged. “I got hurt trying to do the right thing, just like you. I wasn’t fighting a war, not in the literal sense, but we’re all victims of certain types of wars every single day.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was at an outdoor music festival with my wife and some of her friends, and this young lady, a drug addict, careened through the crowd in her vehicle.” I laughed slightly. “I ended up with the short end of the stick.”
Summer giggled, then reached out and touched my real hand. The warmth of her skin was invigorating. “So, you’re saying that we all are in a drug war?”
“In a sense. We all have to feel the effects, one way or another, of the rampant drug abuse in this country. It’s not going anywhere. As long as there is a demand, there will be a supply. People will die. Some guilty, some innocent. All in the same boat together.”
“A lot of the soldiers started using when I was over there, in Iraq. It was a way to escape reality.”
“And people here in the States also use drugs to escape reality. With the economy the way it is today, the problem will only get worse. People are losing their sources of income, their homes, and even if they are willing to bust their asses to make ends meet, they have no way to make it happen.”
“That’s true.” Summer glanced down to where her legs used to be. “I guess that I better count myself lucky that the government has to take care of me.” She pulled her hand away and swiped at a tear that had escaped her right eye. “I’d rather take care of myself though.”
“Don’t cry, Summer. Every day is a new day. We both have to deal with some things, but we’re still here.”
“Yes, we’re still here, but …”
“But what?” I prodded.
“You have someone … a wife. I’m only twenty-three years old and now I’ll never know what true love feels like.”
I sighed and fought back the sharp pain that exploded through my heart for the young woman.
“True love is unconditional,” I told her. “What matters is the inside of a person and not the outside.”
“What man would want a woman without legs when he can have millions of women with them? I can’t compete with all of these model types—even regular-looking women. Who would want to love me?”
“Lots of men … good men. There’s nothing wrong with you, Summer. A real man would appreciate the fact that you went overseas to fight for this country. A real man would understand that we are all victims of circumstance. A real man would embrace your beauty instead of reject it.”
I will never forget the words that left her mouth next: “Where are these real men?”
When I left the hospital that day, I’d made up my mind to start ablemindeddating.com. I went back to my office, realized that I was blessed when the domain name was available, registered it, and started making my plans. Now, several months later, I was at the Carolina Kitchen in Hyattsville, Maryland, about to make a dream come true … for both myself and Summer.
Summer was there in her new wheelchair. She was still getting used to it, but she was a real trouper; she had to be to survive that ordeal in the war. Lance London, the proprietor of the soul-food establishment, was busying about making sure that everyone who entered was properly greeted and guided to the buffet, which featured everything from spicy Thai wings and catfish nuggets to collard greens and sweet potatoes. The food was incredible. Steve and Bobby were there to support my latest effort. My parents were out of town attending my cousin’s wedding, but that was okay. They were there in spirit, and that is all that mattered.
A lot of the county and state politicians were there; I invited them and figured that they wouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to shine in a positive light. With all the layoffs of police officers and firemen and furloughs of government employees, they needed to look good, if even for a day. A lot of press people were also in attendance. The local Fox affiliate had sent a camera crew and reporter, and the Washington Post, the Washington Times, and the local Gazette were all there as well.
I’d taken my place at the podium and was about to begin when I noticed Brooke come in the front door. She tried to ease her way in without being noticed; she was crazy for thinking that could happen. She was stunning in an orange sundress that accentuated her smooth complexion. I was glad that she was there, to support me … unlike my wife.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” I said, then cleared my throat. “I want to thank you very much for coming. This won’t take long; I’m not much of an orator.”
Everyone laughed; I wondered what I’d said that was so amusing.
“I’m a bit nervous, but I’m extremely proud. Able Minded Dating means a lot to me … the world to me. It is a dating concept that I feel is long overdue. People with disabilities are often overlooked when it comes to so many things, and that includes love. They are …”
I hesitated and thought about how I had been about to segment myself away from the group.
“We are as capable of loving and having fruitful, fulfilling relationships as anyone—probably even more capable. Why? Because people with disabilities, whether born with them or acquiring them later in life, have a greater appreciation of what the world has to offer. In my case, having had a close call with death has revitalized my will to live.”
I meant those words with all sincerity. I recalled reading a recent article on the internet about a man who had died on the operating table six times after suffering a widow-maker, a heart attack so severe that it was believed to be impossible to survive. Somehow he did though. They had had less than five minutes to get him to a hospital before sudden death, and he got there in three minutes and twenty seconds. He had none of the factors that generally caused a heart attack and was quite active. Yet, it happened out of the blue. He spoke about how he viewed every day differently from that point on. So did I.
“I hope that all of you will be inspired by what is happening here today,” I added. “So many times we complain about little, practically insignificant things … until something major happens and we realize that things could be a lot worse.”
Everyone started clapping; I waited a few seconds for them to stop. Many cameras were flashing in my face and I was blinded for a moment. I was thinking, Wow, this is really happening!
“I would like to thank all of the county and state executives who have taken time out of their busy schedules to be here today. I realize that a few of you want to make remarks, so I am going to keep this short. Able Minded Dating is for people, like me, who may not have arms, legs, hearing, or even sight, but we all have a heart.”
By that time, Brooke had inched her way up closer to where I was, and I could see her waving at me and grinning. I couldn’t help but blush.
“I want to acknowledge a few people. Mr. Lance London, I appreciate you opening up your establishment for us today and providing everyone with such delicious food and a warm atmosphere.”
Lance waved fro
m over near the bar, then came over and shook my hand. He stood by me as I continued, “I would like to thank my two closest buddies, Steve and Bobby, for being there for me in the past, being here for me in the present, and undoubtedly being there for me in the future. Nothing will ever come between us, and I love you guys.”
Steve rested his elbow on Bobby’s shoulder and appeared on the brink of tears, while Bobby clapped so hard that I thought his hands might fall off—bad thought.
“I would also like to thank the young lady who gave me the inspiration to start this website.” I could see Brooke bite her bottom lip and start trembling, like she was nervous. She was off the mark. “Summer Kendrick, thank you for that talk in the hospital gym that day. You will never know how much that touched my heart.”
I could see Summer’s mouth fall open from across the room. Then she placed her hand over her chest and mouthed the words Thank you.
I looked directly at Brooke then and said, “But most of all, I would like to thank Brooke Alexander, who has become one of my dearest friends in the face of my darkest tragedy. Without you, I am not sure that I would have made it through the past several months. We share a bond that no one else will ever understand, and you will forever have a place in my heart.”
Brooke stood there for a few seconds, then turned away from me and started pushing her way through the crowd toward the other side of the restaurant. I noticed Bobby and Steve both staring between her and me; it was obvious what they thought.
“Thanks again, everyone, for coming out to share this experience with me,” I said, finishing up. “Who would like to say a few words next?”
Lance said, “I want to say a few words before the politicians start coming up here. We all know how long-winded they are.”
Everyone laughed while Lance continued speaking and as I made my way toward Brooke. I had to find her. People were trying to shake my hand and talk to me, and even Summer tried to get my attention, but I had to find Brooke. I told Summer, along with the photographers who wanted to take pictures, that I would be back in a few minutes.
Brooke was standing in the back room, looking at Lance’s collection of model automobiles enclosed in glass cases. Her back was to me.
“Brooke, are you okay?”
She turned and I noticed that she was holding a stack of napkins—tear-soaked napkins.
“I’m fine.” She sat at one of the tables.
I went and sat across from her. I reached out and took her hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She still clutched the napkins in her other hand and wiped away more tears. “What you said really touched me; that’s all.”
“I meant it.”
“I know; that’s why it touched me.”
We both chuckled.
“I guess you were thrown for a loop when I mentioned Summer,” I said, hoping that a jealous streak would come out, but realizing at the same time the implications of my wanting Brooke to be envious.
“Kind of. I didn’t know you had grown close to another woman … I mean, other than your wife.”
“Summer and I aren’t that close. Not like you and me. She and I were working out in the hospital gym one day, and she expressed to me how she felt about trying to find love without legs.”
It didn’t escape me that I had found myself explaining my connection with Summer to Brooke like she was my woman and she deserved an explanation. This was not a good look.
Brooke glanced toward the direction of where everyone else was. “I saw her in there; I noticed she was in a wheelchair.”
“She’s still getting used to her condition. It’s extremely hard on her.”
“What happened to her?” I could tell that Brooke’s concern was genuine.
“Suicide bomber in Iraq.”
Brooke shook her head. “Poor woman. It’s a damn shame, the war. Pointless.”
“She’s really lonely. She doesn’t have much family, but she stays alone with her father. He’s a borderline alcoholic, and a lot of the friends that she had before she was deployed don’t want to be bothered with her now.”
“Are you serious?” Brooke asked in disgust.
“Yes, that what she says. They don’t think she’s able to hang out with them like she used to. Stupid people.”
Bobby and Steve had stood by me and treated me no differently. I was blessed. Sure, they stared at my prosthetic arm from time to time, but our conversations rarely changed. Then again, it was not like we had ever played golf or basketball together—not in many, many years. We always chilled out and we could still do that.
Brooke grinned at me and tightened her grip on my hand, bringing me back from my thoughts. “So you took it upon yourself to help her find a man?”
“Well, having done thelastgoodmen.com already, I had a degree of experience.” I paused, then chuckled. “Yeah, I’m going to find Summer a man. In fact, Summer is my first featured member, so everyone who logs on will automatically view her profile.”
“That’s great. I noticed that you don’t have your other site mentioned on any of the handouts, and it wasn’t on your invitation for the launch party either. How come?”
I shrugged. “My other website is a moneymaker, a cash-cow business. Able Minded Dating serves a much deeper purpose for me. I didn’t want to taint that, in any way.”
“You’re sure a good man, Damon. Your wife doesn’t realize how lucky she is.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
Brooke suddenly pulled her hand away. “We shouldn’t be sitting back here holding hands like this. What if Carleigh sees us?”
“Only if she has supersonic vision. Did you not notice that her name never escaped my mouth while I was making my speech?”
Brooke gasped. “I came in late so I didn’t have a chance to look around for her.” She sat up in her seat. “Are you telling me that she didn’t come today?”
“Carleigh had to show some houses to a new client.”
To be honest, I suspected that Carleigh was too embarrassed to come with me. She didn’t want to be affiliated with anything that had to do with “less than perfect” people, and lately it had seemed like that included me.
“But this is such a special day for you,” Brooke said. “I mean, I took off to come, and Hank, my asshole of a boss, gave me a hard time, but I set him straight.”
“How’d you handle ol’ Hank?”
“I told him to kiss my monkey.”
I laughed. “Kiss your monkey? You mean your ass?”
“No, my monkey.” Brooke dropped her eyes. “My monkey.”
I was completely lost. “What’s a monkey?”
“Damon, I’m talking about my pussy,” Brooke whispered. “A monkey is a pussy.”
The mere mention of Brooke’s pussy made me feel uncomfortable. I got up from the table.
“I’d better get back. They’re probably looking for me.”
“Of course they are.” Brooke got up as well. “You’re the man of the hour.” She put her arms around my neck and hugged me, then gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Damon.” She gazed into my eyes. “You will forever have a place in my heart as well.”
It took every ounce of restraint in my body not to bury my tongue in her mouth. I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t do that to Carleigh, or to Brooke. She deserved better, and while I didn’t believe for one second that her current man, Patrick, was worth her time, I couldn’t be that man.
She let go of me and we went back into the other section of the restaurant. Perfect timing; the last politician was finishing up his remarks. I went back up to the podium to pose for photos and talk to the press, while Brooke lagged behind. I was going to make sure that she was in at least some of the pictures before the event ended—both her and Summer.
Brooke actually went over to Summer and started talking to her. Not only was Brooke not jealous—something that I had mixed feelings about—but she seemed to be embracing Summer and befriending her. I saw her take out a pi
ece of paper and write something down and hand it to Summer—probably her number. That meant the world to me. Brooke has the kind of heart that all people on this earth should have.
Brooke
May 3, 2008
I CAME by the diner this afternoon,” Patrick said before I could even get into the door good. “I also called to see if you had a doctor’s appointment. Where were you?”
I glared at Patrick like he was crazy. “Patrick, it’s late. My class ran long tonight and I really need to take a bath and hit the sack. I have to be at work early. I promised Hank that I would work a double shift to make up for today.”
Patrick grabbed my upper arm. “Stop all that yakking and rambling and answer my damn question. Why weren’t you at work today?”
“Let go of me, Patrick,” I warned him. “I’m not a rag doll; I’m a human being.”
Patrick released me reluctantly. I was waiting on him to revert back to his old ways and call me a bitch. I would have been out the door so fast that it would have made his head spin.
“You keep saying that you’ve changed,” I said to him. “And you’ve been doing better lately, I will give you that, but don’t mistake my being here as submission. Most of my shit is still over at Destiny’s, so if you want to come out your mouth at me any kind of way, I can give a brand-new meaning to the term gone in sixty seconds.”
I walked into the living room and put down my backpack.
“So how was class?” he asked, trying to change up his game and be nice.
“It was fine. Everything’s coming along.”
“You don’t have to take those night classes, Brooke. You don’t even have to work. Why won’t you let me take care of you?”