Chapter 4 #2
Her walker, he realized. He’d used one when he was very little to help him with his balance because it had been absolute garbage until he was nearly six. He touched the top of her head and felt loose curls. She was very tiny, but he knew she had cerebral palsy, so he didn’t want to assume.
“I’m Lucas.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your name? And where is your…” Shit. Did Frankie call himself dad? He said the situation was complicated.
“Elodie!” Ah. There he was. His cinnamon-spiced voice and his heavy footsteps. Lucas didn’t have time to straighten before he felt the presence of the other man, and he was pretty sure Frankie had knelt down behind the little girl.
“Got away from you again?” Lucas asked. “Is this thing a walker or a race car?”
“I haff a car in my room!” Elodie shouted.
Lucas snorted as Frankie groaned. “She’s going to tear up the Indy 500, I swear to god.” He grunted, and Lucas heard joints popping as the man stood up, so he followed and felt behind him for his cane. “We were just checking the mail, and she took off. I didn’t notice until she was gone.”
“This thing is loud as fuck, bro. You might want to get your hearing checked.”
Frankie just sighed and didn’t rise to the bait, which Lucas hated. He didn’t want to be the mean one. He wanted it lobbied back at him. “You might be right.”
“Uhg, stop being reasonable.” He felt around him with his cane to make sure he wasn’t about to step on her walker or her small toes and then began to head for the door that led to his hallway.
“Whassat?”
“His cane, Bugs.”
“Why is it?”
“He’s blind like you. He uses it to help him walk.”
“Why is it?”
Lucas turned and paused. He should walk away. This was not his business. His only business was hating this man for being a dick. But his heart was soft and too big for his chest. “Do you have a cane?”
“I haff…this.”
“He can’t see, Bugs. You have to tell him.”
“This, um…it walks.”
“Her walker,” Frankie clarified. “No cane. They’re not sure what her brain processes with her sight, so they want to get her walking and balance better before trying to train her on one.”
“So she’s not totally blind?”
“No. It’s CVI. Do you know what—”
“Yes, dude. I know what cortical blindness is.” More than half his friends at school had it. He’d always wondered if it was more frustrating to see but not quite see than have nothing the way he did. He was always jealous of their glasses though.
He never got cool accessories for his face.
“Sorry,” Frankie said quietly. “A lot of people don’t know. I didn’t want to assume. I made the mistake once of asking if one of her mentors knew this blind artist at the museum. He was pretty fucking offended that I assumed y’all knew each other.”
Lucas tried to hide his smile. “I know that guy.”
“…you do?”
“No, jackass!”
Frankie groaned. “I’m tired. Please go easy on me.”
Lucas scoffed, but he already felt himself giving a little. Just a smidge. “So, I’ve had a really long day. This total asshole took up a bunch of my time two days in a row, and I really need a nap.”
“He sounds like a real turd,” Frankie said dryly.
Lucas burst into laughter, hating that the man could make him smile like this. But…he also kind of loved it. “He was. But he was apologetic, so I feel like I might be able to let him off the hook.”
“Kind of you. Not sure he’d deserve it after all that.”
“Self-deprecation isn’t as cute as you think it is,” Lucas told him as he turned to reach for the door to their hallway. He held it as he felt Elodie bump his legs again.
“The other way, Bugs,” Frankie said.
Lucas felt her walker adjust, and then she pushed inside and began to pick up speed. “She’s at it again.”
“The hallway ends. There’s no escape this time,” Frankie said. He slowed down when Lucas approached his own door. “Listen…”
“No,” Lucas said quickly. “We don’t have to do this, okay? I get it. You were a shit, I was mad. You apologized and made it right, and I got a good score on my own merits because I am a badass chef.”
“Yeah,” Frankie said with a very tired chuckle. “Thanks for not making this weird.”
“Trust me, I have time to make it weird,” Lucas promised. He felt himself grinning and wondered if he looked like a complete tool. “Have fun getting that one to bed tonight.”
“Just be glad you don’t live directly next door. All you’d hear is her cackling and me sobbing into my pillow as I eat her leftover Cheerios she spilled on the floor.”
“You sound like you need a hot meal. Or a drink. Or…I don’t know. Boozy soup.”
Frankie snorted. “I don’t even know what a hot meal is anymore. But at least the Cheerios are good for my heart, right?”
“Tell me you’re joking,” Lucas pressed.
Frankie sighed again. “Toddler. I have a toddler. Trust me, I am not joking. But this phase eventually ends, and I’ll go back to my casseroles and sandwiches.”
“That is tragic.”
“That is life,” Frankie shot back. “But there are worse things. Have a good night, Lucas.”
God, he loved the way his name sounded on Frankie’s tongue. Rich and rolling through lips and teeth. He wanted to ask him to say it again.
Instead, he turned the key in his dead bolt, went inside, locked it behind him, and walked away. If he stayed any longer, he was going to do or say something they would both probably regret.