Wheels In Motion Ch. 01

"There's someone here from women's legal services. Can she come in and talk to you? She's out in the hall."

"Si." Mrs. Gonzalez looked like the worst of her pain wasn't on the outside.

Doris opened the door and beckoned out into the hall. My eyes widened, as the dreadlocked woman who saved me on the street walked in.

"Hello again!" I blurted out.

"I'm here to see Juanita Gonzales?" she said, giving me a smile, but turning her attention to my patient.

I looked sheepishly at Doris and Mrs. Gonzalez. "Yes, of course, sorry. Mrs. Gonzales, the nurse will be in shortly with discharge papers and a referral to a specialist for your eye."

"Thank you, Dr.," she said as I rolled out of the room.

Angel met me down the hall with my next chart.

"Who's the dreadlocks in six?" I asked him. "I haven't seen her here before."

"Oh, she's a new women's legal advocate. She got assigned to our hospital this week, I think. I've seen her once or twice since Monday."

"Do me a favor, would you? Don't let her leave without talking to me first."

Angel raised his eyebrows. "You got a beef with her?"

"No, just the opposite, actually. She's the one who kept me from sliding off the curb into a bus an hour ago. If she's going to be hanging around here, I'd like to introduce myself properly."

"You got it. Fifty-seven-year-old female, with a wet cough and one-oh-three fever in two," he said, handing me the chart.

"Great," I said, and reached for a surgical mask from a dispenser at the nurse's station as I rolled past.

I was in the hall at the computer next to the nurse's station entering notes for a chart when I heard a voice behind me.

"Hey Wheels, I heard you wanted to talk to me?"

I scowled and turned my chair, ready to tear someone a new one, when I saw it was my dreadlocked heroine.

"Oh, uh, hey. Hi. Yeah, I was surprised to see you again tonight. Nurse Navarro said he thought you were going to be visiting often so I thought we should actually introduce ourselves."

"I'm Addison, with Lampedo Women's Legal Services. GW's on my new beat, so yeah, you'll probably see me around a bit."

"Addison, it's nice to meet you. Officially, that is. I'm Liz."

She looked down at the cast on my foot and frowned. "Are you okay? I didn't realize you were injured. You seemed fine out on the street."

"It's pretty bad. Broken in six places. They're probably going to have to amputate," I said, with a grave face.

She looked horrified for a moment. Then, as I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from turning up, she stamped her foot and said, "Oh, that was mean!" then laughed.

"Sorry, I'm kidding. It's a minor fracture. I promise it won't inconvenience me at all, other than putting an end to my potato-sack racing career." She smiled at that. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" I asked.

She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. "It's almost midnight," she said, looking amused.

"I'm on for another eight-and-a-half hours, so caffeine is a necessity for me. How about a muffin? Our cafeteria isn't the best but they make a killer banana nut muffin. The secret ingredients are bananas and sugar."

She laughed. "Well, that sounds like an offer I can't refuse. Lead the way."

I stopped to tell Angel I'd be back in twenty minutes and for him to page me if anything dire came in, and then I led Addison through the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital in search of baked goods and the magic bean-juice that twenty-four-hour shifts required.

"So, after I graduated from Wisconsin law school, I had it in my head I'd come to DC, work for some Congress-critter and change the world," Addison was saying, as we sat at a table in the deserted cafeteria.

"What happened?"

"I like helping actual people too much. That's considered a waste of precious time working on the Hill. 'Why waste time helping one when you can help a million?' I started doing a little pro-bono work on the side for LWLS to feed my altruistic hunger. They ended up offering me a full-time gig and here I am."

"How is it compared to working for a Congress-critter?"

"Well the hours are way worse, but at least I got a huge pay cut to make up for it."

I laughed. "My friend Megan is an attorney for LWLS in Arlington. Have you met her? Megan Winerock?"

She thought for a moment and said, "I've heard the name, but if she's in Arlington she's probably working out of the Northern Virginia office in Seven Corners. I work out of the DC office and I've only been here a couple of months."

"I hope you meet her sometime, she's great. Her wife works here in the E.R. as a nurse. So, you like your change of careers, huh?"

"I love being able to help women who need an advocate. Plus, I'm getting litigation experience now. All in all, it's been the right career move for me. Certainly, a satisfying one."

My Apple Watch vibrated on my wrist. "Damn," I said, reading the text message.

"Have to go?"

"Yeah, we've got an MVA coming in. I can't leave that to my newbie. Hey, do you like Lebanese food?"

"I don't know, I've never had it."

"Want to let me buy you dinner at Lebanese Taverna this weekend? As a thanks for saving me from decorating the front of that bus tonight? It's in Woodley Park, right across the street from the Metro."

"I'd love that."

Through the cafeteria windows I heard the buzz from the rotors of the Life-Flight helicopter approaching the hospital. "Shit, I gotta go. I'll call you to find a time that works. It was really good to meet you!"

"What's an MV-?" she started to ask but I'd already grabbed my wheels and shot out of the cafeteria.

An hour later, I slumped in my chair in the locker room, exhausted. It had been a near thing, but Dr. Chandra and I had stabilized the motor vehicle accident victim. Dr. Andrews had hovered over my shoulder, watching with wide eyes while I treated the man's pneumothorax, inserting an eight-inch needle between his ribs to release the air trapped inside his chest wall that had been collapsing his lung, while Dr. Chandra methodically and efficiently found and sutured severed arteries. After getting eight units of blood, the patient had a decent chance if he made it through the night in the ICU.

I looked down at my scrubs, blood spatters all over my pants, then at the clock on the wall. Five-and-a-half hours left on my shift. Guess I needed to change.

The laborious process of changing scrubs while in a wheelchair left me even more exhausted. I rolled out of the locker room to find Angel waiting for me.

"Oh no, no more charts! Unless someone is about to die in the next five minutes, give whatever it is to the newbie!"

"He's sleeping in the lounge. Besides, we've got nothing new right this second believe it or not. I came to tell you two things. One is that Dr. Rivers said he can hold down the fort so you can grab some shut-eye. I'll wake you if we need you. And two, here." He handed me a business card.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Dreadlocks lady wanted me to give it to you. She said you took off without getting her number."

"Oh!" I'd been in such a hurry to get back to the E.R., I hadn't stopped to think about how I'd get in touch with her. I slipped the card in my shirt pocket. "Thanks, Angel. I'll be in exam two if anything pops."

"Why do you always pick exam two?"

"It has the best mattress, obviously. How do you not know that?"

"Because we nurses never sleep on the job?"

"You should start working twenty-four-hour shifts too, then you can start trying all the beds."

"No, thanks!"

I turned off the lights in exam two and lowered the bed all the way down so I could more easily slide from my chair onto the aforementioned very comfortable mattress.

I lay in the dark, eyes closed, trying to drift off but, unusually for me, sleep was evasive. After a few minutes I gave up, pulled the business card out of the pocket of my scrubs, and angled it so I could read it in the light coming in from the hallway.

Addison Wagner

Attorney, Lampedo Women's Legal Services.

Next to her name and title was the logo of the non-profit, a stylized image of an Amazon warrior holding up her shield to protect a kneeling woman with two young children.

The agency's motto was printed along the bottom of the card: "I am my sister's keeper."

That made me smile. Kat's wife Megan had that tattooed on her shoulder. I'd seen it when I'd gone kayaking on the Potomac River with Kat and her family last summer.

I flipped the card over and found handwriting on the back.

"See you this weekend Wheels."

I frowned. I'd have to set her straight on that next time I saw her.

I hated being called "Wheels."

~~ Woodley Park, Washington DC ~~

The weather on Sunday was the opposite of the night I'd met Addison. It was still below freezing, but the day had been clear and sunny without a breath of wind; my favorite kind of weather. It was my first night off in two weeks, so I was especially appreciative.

The sun had set a few hours before, as I waited outside the Lebanese Taverna on the brightly lit sidewalk of Connecticut Avenue. I passed the time admiring the few stars that had the temerity to shine their light down through the glow of the city. Mars was putting on an especially brilliant display as it sank down behind the Omni Hotel across the street.

I saw her come up the Woodley Park Metro escalator across the street from me and I waved to her. Her blonde dreadlocks made it easy to pick her out of the crowd. She waved back and went to the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.

I frowned. She was really dressed up, wearing what looked like an angora sweater with a beautiful silver necklace under her camel hair coat, a pair of brown tweed pants, and a stylish pair of suede boots. Her dreads were loose tonight with a bunch of them hanging over her shoulders down the front of her coat.

I looked down at my own outfit, jeans and a blue-and-gold GW fleece pullover under my North Face jacket. The thick sock I'd stretched over the open toe of my pink cast didn't add much to my outfit either, nor did it match the hiking boot I wore on the other foot. For warmth, not because of all the hiking I was planning on doing. I suddenly felt like a slob.

She crossed the street and walked up to me. "Hey Liz! How are you?" she said, then startled me by leaning down to give me a hug as a greeting.

"I'm good! You're right on time," I said. "Our reservation is for right now." I turned my chair and rolled towards the door of the restaurant.

"Sounds great, Wheels, I'm starving."

I skidded to a stop with a small screech of rubber on the sidewalk. "Hey listen, I'm sure you don't mean anything by it, but I really don't like being called that. Liz is fine. Or Elizabeth if you prefer, but..."

"Sorry, I got it, no nicknames, my apologies Liz," She said, looking embarrassed.

"It's fine." I gave myself a push and glided towards the door as she walked beside me. "I didn't say no nicknames. I like nicknames just fine. Just not that one." The hostess seated us at a small table by the front window, taking one of the chairs away so I could roll right up to the table.

I asked her if she liked red wine, before I ordered a bottle of Chateau Kefraya, from the Bekaa Valley of Lebanon, one of my favorites. Our waiter opened the bottle with a flourish and poured me a taste. After my nod of approval, he filled our glasses and left us to peruse the menu.

"I have no idea what any of this is," Addison said after a few minutes. She closed her menu. "I'm going to just put myself in your hands. You know what's good here, you order for both of us."

"Okay." I looked over my favorites. "Are you a vegetarian or anything?"

"I grew up in Wisconsin, the land of cheese and brats. Order anything you like."

I laughed, then ordered a hummus and olive plate for an appetizer, and two of my favorite entrees, lamb skewers and falafel, figuring we could share.

Soon we were deep in conversation, her telling me stories about law school, me about my decision to join the Army. She seemed truly shocked to learn I was a veteran.

"But you're so..."

"So... what?"

"I don't know. Pretty, slim, feminine... you don't seem like a soldier."

"Well, I was a flight medic on a helicopter crew. It's not like I was carrying around a fifty-pound pack. I mean, I have, but not that often since basic. I did keep an M-4 strapped next to my jump seat."

"I'm sorry, I'm stereotyping terribly. Is that how... I'm sorry, is it okay if I ask if that's how you ended up in your wheelchair?"

"It's fine. My helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan. We crashed, two of our crew died. My crew chief's legs were all busted up, my pilot lost her leg and was in a coma for a while. Jo and I, she was the pilot, were both medically retired from the Army, and I went to school. That was four years ago this month."

"Wait... your crash was... four years ago? But you're an E.R. doctor now. How did you do that so fast?"

"I'm still in medical school, technically, since I'm a resident. I took a lot of college courses while I was in the Army. Then I tested out of a bunch of classes when I started at GW. I only ended up needing four semesters to get my undergrad, so a year and a summer. Two years of medical school, then residency. I started my second year of residency about three months ago.

She looked at me thoughtfully. "So, Dr. Charles, just how smart are you?"

I grinned. "I can brain."

"Clearly. So... obviously it's a touchy subject, but what's the deal with the nickname 'wheels'? I think I can guess, but I'd like to hear it from you."

"Because I don't want my identity bound up in my disability. I don't want the word people use to identify me in their minds to be short for 'wheelchair', a word that people think of when you say 'paraplegic'."

"That's kind of what I thought. I'm really sorry I called you that. It seemed cute but I was being terribly insensitive."

"It's okay, you didn't know. I'm just more than a handicapped person. I'm a doctor, a student, an athlete, a lover of wine and ethnic foods, a woman who loves to dance."

"You dance?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, you should see me on the dance floor. I can make this chair move and spin like nobody's business. I'll pop a wheelie for you when we get outside."

She grinned at me. "You're quite the woman, Dr. Liz. How is it you aren't taken by now?"

I wasn't really sure how she guessed I wasn't seeing anyone, but she was right.

"I don't know," I sighed, "It's really hard dating as a resident. I sometimes work over a hundred hours a week at GW. And being in this chair has its own... difficulties. I've only had two relationships since I got hurt, and they both ended at least partly due to complications from... this." I gestured to my chair. "So, I haven't put much effort into that area since I started my residency, and no one's asked me out so..."

"I find that really hard to believe," she said with a warm smile, "You seem like quite the catch." She reached across the table and took my hand, gently rubbing her thumb across the back of it.

Oh, crap. Pieces started falling into place in my head.

"Uh... wow, I, uh, I think I may owe you a big apology, Addison."

"What?" She said, straightening up in her seat, "What do you mean? An apology for what?"

"I'm, uh... Forgive me if I'm misreading what's going on here, Addison, but... I'm, uh, I'm straight."

"Oh..." She withdrew her hand like she'd touched a hot stove, and looked away from me. The look of disappointment and embarrassment on her face... I had not been misreading what was happening.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't... I... Addison, I'm really, so sorry."

"No, it's... it's not your fault. I mean neither of us ever said 'date', or talked about any of this, I just assumed that since you asked me to dinner... You really just asked me out to pay me back for saving you?" She looked crushed.

"No! Not just because of that! I liked talking to you and I thought... I thought maybe we could be friends. I don't... have a lot of friends outside the hospital."

We both sat in awkward silence until our waiter appeared and asked if we needed anything else. I looked at Addison and said, "The Turkish coffee is really good. Or do you want to go?" I heard the pain in my voice. I was really upset that I'd hurt her. I also wasn't lying about wanting to be friends. I had so few of them outside of work. And I really did like her.

She sat staring into the flame of the tiny oil lamp in the center of our table for a moment, then raised her eyes and said to the waiter, "Two Turkish coffees, please."

Our conversation was strained until the check came. I paid the bill and we went out into the cold, clear night.

"Well, thank you for the dinner," Addison said, clearly ready to flee across the street to the Metro.

"You're welcome... Addison, I..." I paused.

"What?" she asked me.

I looked up at her while I pulled on my gloves. "I'm really sorry for the misunderstanding. And I'm really flattered. And I really would like to be your friend. If you aren't interested in that, I get it. But if you think you have room in your life for being friends with a straight girl, I was going to wheel down to Cleveland Park and hit the Fro-Yo place. If you want to come, I'm buying."

She stood, looking at me inscrutably, then said, "It's not fair."

I didn't know what to say to that. "What's not fair?"

"You get to roll all the way down Connecticut in your comfy chair, but I'll have to walk. That's hardly fair to me."

I stared at her for a second, and then burst out laughing. "Yes! I clearly have the advantage here!" I popped a wheelie in my chair, then dropped back down on all four wheels. She wasn't able to hold her smile back any longer.

We headed down Connecticut Avenue together, laughing at the absurdity of our social misunderstanding, the tension between us easing.

"Tonight was almost like a bad episode of Friends," she said.

"More like a great episode of Will and Grace!" I retorted.

"Ha! I think you hit that on the nose!"

"Nah, I was in the Army. If I hit you on the nose it'd hurt, not make you laugh," I joked.

"Well, I don' t know about my nose, but my feet are killing me from all this walking. And there you sit in your comfy chair!"

"Enough with the complaining!" I said, grinning. I grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto my lap and she shrieked with laughter as I took off down the street.

"Oh my god, how can you go this fast?!" She hooked an arm around my neck and held on for dear life, leaning over so I could see around her as I flew down the sidewalk, past the Connecticut Avenue entrance to the National Zoo. A few minutes later, I coasted to a stop in the parking lot of the frozen yogurt place.

"Okay, if being your friend means I'll get to ride instead of having to walk when we're together, then friends it is." She stood up, straightening her clothes.

"Oh, that's going to be an everyday thing, is it?" I asked, a little breathless from my efforts

"That's my price for friendship," she said with a laugh.

"Small price to pay." I held out my hand and she slapped it with a smile.

~~ Arlington, Virginia, February ~~

"You killed me again!"

"Don't take it personally, Cait. It's my Army training. I'm a lean, mean, killing machine," I said.

"I can't believe a grownup is this good at Call of Duty," Caitlyn grumbled as she waited to respawn.

"Don't feel bad, you just got your Xbox a week ago. My roommate at Ft. Bragg was an COD addict."

"There's a guy behind that tank," she said, pointing at my half of the screen.

"Thanks," I said. I circled my character around and dispatched the guy in question.