Chapter 31
ISLA
January brings with it a bitter cold front. Yet, all it takes is one look from Luca and I’m burning up inside. We’re still keeping things quiet at work and in public, but we’ve had two more batting cage dates with Charlie. Watching the two of them interact has only made my feelings grow stronger.
Of course, their growing connection hasn’t eased my worry that Charlie could be devastated if things don’t work out with Luca and me.
But there’s no more denying the fact that I’m falling in love with Luca, even if I’m not ready to say that yet. We text all the time, sneaking whatever stolen moments we can find while we’re at work. And when we’re not together, I’m constantly thinking of him.
Today is the first time I’ve hallucinated about him, though.
Charlie and I are sitting in the waiting room of the prosthetist we’re seeing to discuss arm options when the door opens, and in walks Luca.
When Charlie jumps up and walks over to give him a fist bump, I blink back to reality. Not a hallucination. He’s actually here.
“Hi,” I say, careful to keep my hands at my sides and not reach out for a hug the way I want to.
The warm expression on his face, coupled with the subtle wink, sends a flush of heat through me.
“What are you doing here?” My eyes widen as something clicks into place.
“Wait. Tom is your prosthetist. You mentioned him in your speech. Of course he is, it’s not like there’s a lot of them around here. ”
As I ramble, Charlie is looking at me like I just grew a second head, and Luca’s wearing an amused smile.
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing Doc since I was a lot younger. He’s the best. And I’m here because Charlie asked me to come.” He turns and arches a brow at my son. “But I thought we agreed he would give you a heads-up.”
Charlie has the decency to look chagrined as he turns to me. “Sorry. I totally forgot. But it’s cool, right? I figured since Luca knows a lot about prostheses he might know things to ask that we wouldn’t. And he knows Tom. Doc.” He turns a grin to Luca. “Thanks for coming.”
Luca’s face softens. “No problem.” Turning to me, he tilts his head to the side slightly. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
“Of course, it is,” I say, fighting back the sting of tears. Blinking rapidly, I turn to Charlie. “But a heads-up would’ve been nice.”
“Charlie Forrester?” An older South Asian man steps out into the waiting room, looking around. When his gaze lands on Luca, he lights up before he frowns slightly, obviously confused. “Luca, we don’t have an appointment today, do we?”
Luca slings his arm over Charlie’s shoulder. “Nope. I’m here with my buddy Charlie and his mom today. Moral support. Someone’s gotta make sure you do your job right.”
Tom, at least I assume it’s Tom, laughs loudly, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. Well, Charlie, come on back.” Then, turning to me, he sticks out a hand. “Tom Shivari. You must be Isla?”
“Yes, nice to meet you. If it makes you feel any better, I only just found out about our third wheel myself.”
Tom laughs again. “Excellent, someone else to keep Luca in line.”
If Charlie’s at all nervous about the consultation with Tom, he doesn’t show it. Instead, my son wows me with how prepared he is. How did I not know he’d done so much research about prosthetic arms? Way more than what he and Juni showed me when he first brought this up.
He asks about different materials, hand attachments, considerations for balance, and so much more. Luca interjects a few times, and I simply sit there and try to absorb it all.
Then Tom asks Charlie a question that I would have assumed had a simple answer. And once again, my kid surprises the heck out of me.
“I’m impressed with how much thought you’ve put into this, Charlie.
From the history your mom gave me, it seems you tried a prosthetic arm when you were much younger but didn’t have a great experience.
Can I ask what’s changed and why you feel ready to try again?
It will help me know what I need to do to support you being successful this time around if I know not only what went wrong last time, but also how it might be different this time. ”
Taking a deep breath in, Charlie fixes his gaze on the floor. His leg bounces, and it’s the first sign that he’s feeling anything but confident and excited.
“I’ve always loved baseball. Me, my mom, and my Poppa, we used to watch a ton of games on TV or go to live ones whenever we could. I’d watch the players and picture myself out on the field. With two arms.”
I watch him swallow, and my hand flies over to Luca, who’s sitting beside me, clutching his hand in mine, desperate for support. He squeezes it back, and I immediately feel settled enough to keep listening.
“I know there’s guys who play with disabilities.
Jim Abbott is my favourite player because he only had one hand, like me.
I watch the Paralympic baseball games every time.
But those guys have really good prosthetics.
Like, crazy expensive good. And I was scared that I’d suck at baseball, even with an arm.
So I decided not to bother. No arm, no risk of sucking at the sport I love. ”
My heart cracks in two. I knew he struggled with his confidence, he always has. I’ve done my best to help him find things he can excel at and encouraged him every step of the way to not let his disability hold him back from achieving anything in life.
How did I miss the fact that it was holding him back from what he loved most of all?
“Then we moved here and my friends convinced me to come hang out at their practices. And the coach helped me figure out some stuff, ways I could still do things and sorta play one-handed.” Finally, a smile comes back to his face.
“But I know I could be even better if I had an arm. And now there’s attachments that can hold a glove or a bat.
I dunno if we can afford it, but I wanna try. ”
My son spins in his seat and looks at me with a pleading expression. “I’ll help pay for the attachments, Mom. I’ll find a job or do whatever. I just—”
Luca interrupts, looking at Tom. “How much are we talking, Doc? There was that hockey player you worked with a couple of years ago, that was in the news. Didn’t you help him get set up with an arm that held a hockey stick? There’s got to be something similar for baseball.”
Tom nods, looking back to Charlie. “There are lots of options for athletes. But Charlie is right to bring up the cost. They’re not cheap.”
“What if cost isn’t an issue?” Luca’s voice is firm, and I know what he’s about to say next, which is why I cut in.
“Tom, let’s go ahead with measurements and get the process started for something today.
I’m sure any prosthesis will be a lot better than what we tried when you were younger.
” I look at Charlie, who nods and gives me a small smile.
“And then maybe we can get some quotes for the attachments for baseball. I’ll take a look at our insurance coverage and we can figure out what we can do. Sound like a plan?”
Charlie’s up and out of his chair in a flash, flinging himself into my arms. “Thanks, Mom.” I hug him back, closing my eyes and sending a silent prayer out to the universe that somehow, I can find a way to make this happen for him.
“There are some charities that provide funding for families needing medical devices,” Tom says gently. “I can apply for them on your behalf.”
I shoot him a grateful look. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”
“My pleasure. Okay Charlie, let's get started.”
As we walk out of Tom’s office some time later, Luca hangs back with me as Charlie heads to the car.
“Isla, let me pay for whatever Charlie needs.”
I shoot him a quelling look. “That’s generous, but unnecessary. I can take care of my son’s needs.”
He shifts on his feet. “I know you can, you’re fucking wonder woman. But I have the money. I can do this for you.”
We come to a stop outside, a few feet away from the car. Keeping my voice down I say, “I know you can, and I appreciate that you want to help. But I can’t just accept you spending that kind of money.” No matter how much I want to.
He gives me a look that tells me he won’t let it go quite that easily, but I just stare right back at him.
The tension is only broken when Charlie opens the car door and shouts at us. “I’m hungry, can we go get burgers?”
“Lunch is on me,” Luca announces when we slide into a booth at Dot’s Diner, giving me a look that all but dares me to protest.
I don’t. Instead, I smile and say, “Thank you.”
“I’m starved,” Charlie says, scanning the menu. “I could eat one of everything.”
“That sounds familiar.”
I look up to see Dottie standing next to the table. “The appetite of boys is a thing to behold.”
She laughs, leaning down to give me a quick hug. “That it is. I take it this is Charlie? And who might you be?” she says, looking to Luca. Then her brow furrows. “Wait a second. Luca Calloway? I heard you were back in town.”
Luca stands and puts out his hand. “That’s me. I’m sorry, I don’t remember if we’ve met.”
Dot waves him off after shaking his hand. “You wouldn’t, it’s fine. But I’ve seen your face in the paper a few times recently. And I think you went to school with my son Troy Barbieri. I think you’re the same age. He’s working in the kitchen for me now.”
Luca’s face breaks into a grin. “Troy’s here? Yeah, I remember him. We used to hang out quite a bit.”
Dot smiles warmly. “I’ll let him know to come say hi. Now, what can I get y’all to eat?”
We place our orders, and Dot walks off with a promise to bring Charlie a milkshake on the house.
“Mom, what is she wearing?” Charlie whispers under his breath.
“It’s called a poodle skirt. Dot likes them.”
His eyebrows raise in a typical preteen expression that clearly shows he thinks it looks weird, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else about Dot’s clothing. And when she comes back with water for all of us and a strawberry milkshake for Charlie, he gives her a very polite “thank you.”
“Charlie, what do you think would be the hardest thing to do in baseball with a prosthetic arm?” Luca asks suddenly. He’s leaning forward across the table, staring at my son intently.
“Um.” Charlie takes a slurp of the milkshake.
“I mean, throwing is the obvious answer ’cause it takes so many different muscles and stuff.
But I can throw pretty good with my natural arm, so that’s no big deal to me.
I guess, probably batting. Even if you learn to swing one-handed, it’s hard to get enough strength and speed.
Coach Rhett taught me how, and I tried a bunch, but it’s hard to always know exactly what isn’t working and how to fix it. ”
Luca nods, then leans back. “Right. Feedback. Just like gait analysis. Huh.”
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Calloway, holy shit. It is you.” An absolutely giant man approaches the booth with a wide grin.
Luca pushes back from the table, and the two men engage in a backslapping hug that makes their old friendship obvious.
“Troy. It’s good to see you, man.”
The two of them immediately start talking about high school memories, and Charlie tugs on my arm. “Mom, I see a couple friends over at the counter. Can I go say hi?”
“Of course. Just keep an eye out for when the food arrives so you can come back to eat.”
“’Kay.” He slides out of the booth and walks over to the two boys sitting on stools with milkshakes in front of them. I watch them for a minute, my heart feeling all warm and fuzzy seeing my son happy.
The thought that I might have to dash his hopes if the prosthesis he wants is too expensive douses those feelings.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours? You were smiling, then suddenly you stopped.”
I look up to see Luca sitting across from me again. “Nothing,” I reply too quickly, and Luca’s expression tells me he sees right through me.
“Will you at least consider letting me help?” he says quietly.
I look down at the table, focusing my gaze on a small scratch in the bright-white laminate. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I love that you want to help Charlie, but…” I trail off as a warm hand reaches over and covers mine, squeezes it quickly, then retreats.
“I’ll back off for now. But please think about it?”
Lifting my gaze to meet his, I nod.
“I will.”
Dottie’s cheery voice is the perfect interruption. “Alright, who’s hungry?”