Confessions of an Ugly Girl (7 page)

“Well, no, not really,” he laughed. “I’m kind of looking forward to a time when I won’t have to go on first dates at all anymore.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Obviously, Sam was saying he was looking for a long-term type of relationship. Marriage? He didn’t say it, but he was at the age where he probably wanted to get married.

A waitress came by and dropped two glasses of wine in front of us. I watched Sam reach over to grab the stem of his glass with his slightly curled fingers. Again, I found myself averting my eyes so it didn’t seem like I was staring.

Sam took a sip of wine and raised his eyebrows at me. “So is there anything else I can do to make things more awkward?”

“Uh... what do you mean?”

“Come on, Millie,” he said. “You’re uncomfortable with me being in a wheelchair.” I tried to shake my head, but he gave me a look. “I don’t blame you. A lot of people are at first and I’m used to it by now. It’s okay, Millie. Really.”

“Uh… okay…”

“Ask me whatever you want,” he said. “Anything you want to make you feel more comfortable. How about this—three questions. Three questions and you don’t have to phrase them delicately to spare my feelings. In fact, I want you to ask them as un-PC as you can.”

It was such a weird thing to offer. I didn’t see how Sam could be so open about everything. I didn’t think I could do the same.

He winked. “Don’t worry, Millie, I can handle it.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Why do you need an, um… you know…”

“A what?” He knew what I meant but he wanted to make me say it.

“A wheelchair.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Why do you need a wheelchair?”

“Nice job, Millie,” he said. “That wasn’t too hard to say, was it?” Yeah, only nearly impossible. “When I was 17, I was in a car accident. I had just gotten my license, it was snowing, and I was a shitty driver. Smashed into a tree and broke my neck. So I’m what you’d call a quadriplegic. I need the wheelchair because I’m paralyzed and can’t move my legs. Therefore, walking is not going to happen. What’s question two?”

“Can you move your hands at all?” I blushed as I asked the question.

He held up his hands, with his curled fingers. “I can’t move my fingers per se,” he said. “But I can get a little bit of a grip from extending my wrist. It’s called tenodesis. Watch.”

He demonstrated cocking his wrist back, and showed me how this motion made his fingers flex. I tried it on my own hand and the same thing happened. Still, it wasn’t all that impressive.

“How do you do anything without moving your fingers?” I blurted out. By now, my face was as red as a tomato.

“With much difficulty,” Sam admitted. He shrugged. “It’s been 17 years and I’ve trained myself to pretty much do anything that doesn’t require a lot of dexterity.”

I avoided his eyes. “So in the morning, you can, um...”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Dress myself?”

I was so mortified by this line of questioning that I could only manage to nod.

Sam appeared to be amused by my flushed cheeks, as evidenced by the smile playing on his lips. I got the feeling he’d had many conversations like this before. “Yes,” he said. “I can dress myself. Things like buttoning my shirt or tying my tie are really hard without help. So I just leave my shirts buttoned and my ties tied. Other than that, I do everything myself.” He paused. “Well, I do have a girl who comes in to cook and clean for me, but that’s mostly because I hate cleaning.”

“Really?” I squeaked. It was honestly very hard to imagine him being able to dress himself and bathe himself or even go to the bathroom without being able to use his hands.

“Yeah, it’s true, I really hate cleaning,” he said with a wink.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “It’s just a little hard to imagine…”

He shrugged again. “Listen, Millie, I’ve met people who absolutely
insisted
that I must have a nurse tucked away at home to help me with everything, that there was
no way
I could look like I do and still be able to live on my own. But I do. I promise you.” He added, “Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Boy Scout?” I briefly imagined Sam looking adorable in a Boy Scout uniform as a kid.

Sam grinned. “Hell yeah. For, like, five years. My specialty was archery. But that’s not really your third question, is it?”

Somehow I thought that I’d run out of questions along the way. “I guess not…”

He nodded at me. “Okay then. Shoot.”

There was one final question that I was dying to ask, but I couldn’t. If he was paralyzed, was he able to have sex? I wanted to know more than anything. I couldn’t ask him that though. He said I could ask anything, but I was sure he didn’t mean
that
. So I tried to think of a third question.

While I was thinking, Sam leaned in close to me. I could smell his aftershave and it caused a little tingling in my underwear. “Millie, how about if I just go ahead and answer your third question, okay? The answer is yes.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“That’s the answer to your question,” he said. “Yes, I can have sex. That’s what you were wondering, right?” He burst out laughing at the look on my face. “I was right. Come on, it was so obvious. I told you that you could ask me anything.”

My face was so red, I thought that any second I might burst into flames. But I was also relieved. Sam could have sex. Just in case it ever came up, which I was sort of beginning to hope it would.

“Did I make things better or worse?” he asked me.

“Better,” I replied. “Thanks.”

“Good,” he said. “I don’t want you running for the door. I like you.”

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out: “Why?”

I could tell my question took Sam by surprise. I was a little sorry I said it, but I couldn’t help myself. Why? Why was Sam pursuing
me
? I was the ugliest woman in the office. There were at least half a dozen other single girls who had been in that conference room who were much more attractive than I was. Why did Sam want
me
? It was driving me crazy. Why?
Why
?

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Because you’re nice. And I have a weakness for redheads.”

I looked down at the napkin on my lap.

“Why’d you finally agree to go out with me?” Sam asked. “Since we’re asking the brutally frank questions….”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Because you’re nice. And you asked me like a zillion times.”

Sam smiled and I smiled back. We shared a little moment right there and things were easier after that. The conversation was probably the best I’ve ever had on a first date. He was really easy to talk to. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how cute he was.

I got used to his hands over the course of the meal. He actually was pretty good at using them, all things considered. He wedged his fork between two of his fingers, and it seemed to stay there. It wasn’t particularly graceful, but it worked. By the time we finished our dinners, I barely noticed his hands anymore.

I felt sort of bad for Sam. With every person he met or every potential girlfriend, he had to go through forcing them to abandon their awkwardness. Not that things were so great for me, but at least I didn’t make people feel uncomfortable. He’s lucky that he’s so outgoing, at least.

(I’m not outgoing. In case you hadn’t guessed.)

“So I was just thinking,” Sam said after the waiters took our plates. “How would you feel if I kissed you right now?”

The request surprised me. I couldn’t help but remember how Harry had seized a first date kiss the other night. But this was completely different. Because this was a guy I
wanted
to kiss me. Very much. “Nobody ever asked my permission before. They just did it.”

“I’m not asking your permission!” Sam said. “I’m just getting your thoughts on the matter.”

“Getting my thoughts on the matter?” I repeated. “What are you—a woman?”

“Oh, that does it…” I was mid-snicker when Sam leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

I’m not even sure if he meant it to be as intense a kiss as it was. I think he was going for a tasteful peck on the lips, but as soon as we got close, things just took on a life of their own. I’d try to describe it, but I don’t think a description would do it justice. You know the kind of kiss I mean. Like where you want the other person so bad, you just each keep pulling closer and closer and…

I’ve never had a kiss like that in 33 years. I don’t know if it was because I’ve never been kissed by a guy who liked me as much as Sam did. Or maybe it’s that I’ve never kissed a guy I liked as much as I liked Sam. Or maybe none of the other guys knew how to kiss as well as Sam did. Or maybe it was all of the above.

After we pulled apart, Sam looked as breathless as I felt. He whispered in my ear, “You’re so sexy, Millie.” I’m not, but damned if I didn’t at least believe he thought so. I still had no idea why, but I wasn’t going to question it anymore. At least not tonight.

We ordered a dessert to share and Sam went to go to the bathroom. While he was gone, the waitress came and deposited our apple pie on the table. It looked delicious but I had already vowed to let Sam eat most of it. I was going to take one minuscule bite, at most.

“This your first date with Sammy?” the waitress asked me. Her name-tag said “Laura.” She was quite attractive. She had the kind of cute face I had always been really jealous of.

“Uh, yes.”

“He’s a really good guy,” Laura said. “Aren’t too many like him out there. I’ve known him for years and years.”

“Oh…”

“I haven’t seen him here in a while though,” she went on. “Sammy would kill me for telling you this, but he got his heart broke real bad last year. I’m glad it looks like he’s finally recovering. Looks like he really likes you.”

I didn’t think Sam would have wanted me to know any of this, if it was in fact true. I mumbled something and Laura told me good luck and left the table. Sam was back a minute later and the first thing he asked me was, “So what did Laura say to you?”

“She, um…” I hadn’t intended to tell him, but somehow it popped out: “She said you just got your heart broken.”

“Did I?” He raised his eyebrows. “Interesting, interesting…”

Of course, I wanted to know if it was true, but it was one thing that he actually seemed reluctant to talk about. Did he get his heart broken just a little bit? Or did some girl completely crush him? From the way Laura was talking, it sounded like the latter.

I’ve never had my heart broken, not really. Maybe because I’ve never been in love before. I’ve had crushes before, but nothing I ever felt was real love. My longest relationship was measured in months. I never developed a strong enough attachment to have a broken heart.

Should I feel lucky?

I broke my promise to myself and ended up eating about half of the apple pie. Okay, more like three quarters. I figured Sam seemed to like me the way I was, so I may as well enjoy my dessert.

He drove me home after that and I couldn’t invite him up because
oh the stairs
. He kissed me again before I left the car and it was yet another incredible kiss. I didn’t want to leave the car, though I knew we couldn’t sit there too much longer before Martha came running out with her broom. Half of me wanted to ask him to drive me to his place and have the sex that he assured me he was capable of.

But I was a lady and he was a gentleman, so I got out of the car, went upstairs, and took a cold shower.

July 24:

This morning when I got to work, there were a dozen red roses on my desk. I’ve come to work to find a lot of crap on my desk: new work for me to do, spilled coffee, one time even a dead cockroach. Never roses. I almost burst into tears when I saw them.

“Sam was here,” Donna told me. “Obviously. I’m extremely jealous, by the way.”

The roses were beautiful. No guy had ever bought me roses before. It was really thoughtful. I found a cup of water and kept them in there for the rest of the day so they’d survive to make it home, but it was such a large bouquet, I knocked them over at least five times, spilling water all over my desk.

(Note to men: don’t buy a woman roses at the beginning of the work day.)

And then Sam texted me to ask if he could take me to lunch. I said yes, of course. We drove out to this romantic restaurant and it was amazing. I didn’t want to go back to work.

I have to tell you, I think I might actually be falling for this guy.

July 30:

Today I visited the Computer Helpdesk for the first time. It was a little surreal because I’ve been calling them for years but I’ve never been there before. Sam said that he wanted to take me to lunch (again!) but he was a little tied up, so he asked if I could come meet him.

The Computer Helpdesk turned out to be quite literally a desk with a computer on it. I was hoping that Sam would be sitting at the desk, but instead it was Todd. Just my luck.