Wheels In Motion Ch. 02

I got up off the floor and picked up her chair. "I'm going to figure this out before I go home," I said, sitting back down.

"It's actually one of the most important things to learn when you get a wheelchair. You can't really get around without knowing how to do it, otherwise you'll get stuck at every curb or hose lying across the sidewalk."

"Huh," I said, "I never thought about that." I popped the front wheels a few inches off the ground again, but fell back down.

"When you pop the wheels, make sure you lean forward as they come off the ground. You have to pop a little harder to compensate for the lean though. That's the trick to avoid the tip, as he told me. It's a little counter-intuitive. You'd have an easier time if I had the anti-wheelie bars on, but I took those off years ago."

I made a few more attempts with little success, managing to at least not fall over backwards again. "When do you have to go in today?"

"I have to leave at three. Shift starts at four, but I like to have some time to get some coffee, check out how busy the board is, and get settled before I have to dive in."

"Want to go see a movie?"

She shifted, lifting her legs off the floor onto the couch with her hands. "I'd like to, but this is the only time I have to do laundry for like ten days. I'd say we could watch something here, but I've let all my streaming accounts lapse since I never have time to watch anything. I guess I still have Amazon Prime."

"I could log in with my Netflix account. That's a smart TV, right?"

"Yeah, the remote's over there. Give me my chair back though, I need to switch a load to the dryer first."

"You don't need to get up, I got you," I said, getting out of the wheelchair and heading into her bathroom. Her washer and dryer were next to the plastic chair mounted to a hydraulic lift that could move her in and out of the bathtub.

"Don't get up," she called after me. "Ha-ha!"

"You know what I meant. Don't get fake mad," I yelled out to the living room as I switched her laundry from the washer to the dryer. "Need a new load started?"

"I was going to put in my whites next. My hamper is next to the sink." After a moment, she added, "So what are you and your friends doing tonight? Lie to me if you're staying home. I need to live vicariously through your social life."

I finished sorting out her whites and started the washer. "We're going to A League of Her Own in Adams Morgan, then dinner," I said, coming back to the living room and sitting back down in her wheelchair.

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's uh, it's just a bar..." I don't know why I was suddenly embarrassed, but I avoided meeting her eyes. I tried to pop another wheelie, with no success.

She laughed. "You can say you're going to a lesbian bar, Addison. I've probably been to as many as you have. Besides you, my four best friends are two lesbian couples."

"I really doubt your math, but I take your point." I popped another wheelie. This time I got the front wheels to hover for a moment without falling over backwards. "Hey! I did it, I'm--" I lost my balance and the front wheels crashed back to the floor.

"I'm glad we're on the first floor, or my downstairs neighbors would be getting pissed."

"True. I should probably stop before I mark up your floors." I got up and grabbed the TV remote, and then sat on the other end of the couch from her. "So, what do you want to watch?"

"Well, now for some reason I feel like watching A League of Their Own," she said, laughing.

"Sold. I'll never say no to Gina Davis in a skirt."

~~ Adams Morgan, Washington DC, March ~~

As I waited for my friends at the entrance to the Woodley Park Metro station, I gazed across the street at the Lebanese Taverna. It was hard to believe it had only been two months since Liz had invited me to dinner there. I felt so close to her now. Closer than many of my older friends, even though we only got to see each other outside the hospital every other week if I was lucky. It seemed like I saw her at the hospital almost every day with my work for LWLS.

I felt a pang as I remembered the disappointment I'd felt when I realized she didn't have any romantic designs on me.

We'd hit it off so well that first dinner together. In truth, when I'd first accepted her invitation, I hadn't thought very seriously about actually dating her. I had just wanted to go out for a nice evening of conversation with a pretty and intelligent woman. Perhaps it was a built-in societal prejudice, but the idea of dating a woman in a wheelchair had been daunting, thinking about what the nuts and bolts of a relationship with her might be like. But within the first twenty minutes of our dinner, I'd thrown any reservations I'd had out the window. I'd been so taken with her confidence in herself and her sense of humor. My doubts had been swept away.

And then she'd crushed my blossoming attraction to her, gently letting me know she wasn't into women. Not her fault really, a person can't help being who they are. I certainly couldn't help being gay. Not that I wanted to. I'd been comfortable with myself since college. I loved hanging out with Liz, and I truly appreciated her as a friend now. But sometimes I couldn't help but wish...

"Addie! Are you ready to p-a-a-a-r-t-y?!" my friend Amber called out behind me. I turned and saw her coming up the Metro escalator with her partner, Nora. Amber's cute, curly red hair and blue eyes would never lead one to think she was an agent with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. She was my height but with a subtly-strong build that came from daily trips to her agency's gym. She'd come to the ATF after a stint in the Army, doing explosive ordnance disposal. We'd met when she was accompanying her boss who was testifying at a hearing being held by the Congressman I worked for when I first came to DC four years earlier.

"Hey Amber," I said, giving her a hug. "Nora, how's it going? How's life amongst all the books?"

Nora, Amber's partner, was shorter than both of us and her dirty blonde hair softly framed her heart shaped face and dark eyes.

"I keep telling you, books are someone else's business, Addie, not mine."

"And you call yourself a librarian," I joked.

Nora had a master's degree in library sciences and worked at the Library of Congress as a digital media curator, whatever that was. All I knew was that she worked at the library but didn't work with books.

Heading down Calvert Street together, we walked over the Duke Ellington Bridge into Adams Morgan. A League of Her Own was right next to a sports bar called Pitchers, a play on words between the two establishments I appreciated. The homey atmosphere and warm wood finishes made it a welcoming place to hang out and catch up with friends. I'd always felt at home at the League.

We found a spot at the crowded bar where the three of us could squeeze in. After the bartender delivered our drinks we toasted to our Saturday night. I took a sip of my Hendricks martini and turned to Amber.

"So, any cool new bombs lately?" I asked her. The woman behind her turned and gave us a look.

"She's kidding," Amber told her, then said more quietly to me, "Hey, crazy lady. Show a little discretion, would you?"

"What? You investigate bombs, right?" I grinned at her.

"Nothing she's said is untrue, babe," Nora laughed then kissed her on the cheek. "Did she tell you she got me frisked last week?" she asked me.

"What?! How did that happen?" I asked.

"It wasn't my fault!" Amber said, turning pink.

"She came back from a work trip and set her go-bag down on top of my carry-on in our bedroom, which I'd packed for a work trip of my own," Nora said, grinning and ignoring Amber's obvious embarrassment. "So, when I go through the security checkpoint at the airport the next day, this big, floofy bomb-squad dog goes nuts over my bag. They swabbed it and it came back positive for, like, six different kinds of explosives or something. They unpacked my entire bag right there on the counter and then patted me down for so long I thought I was going to get a cavity search. I barely made my flight."

"I said I was sorry! How long am I going to be making this up to you?" Amber protested.

"A little while longer, at least," Nora said, her blue eyes twinkling as she slipped her arm around Amber's waist and sipped her wine.

"What did you get up to that you managed to contaminate Nora's bag so hard?" I asked.

"Some wing-nut whack-job in Ohio had stockpiled four thousand pounds of ammonium nitrate. The farm supply store where he got it tipped us off. He'd been buying it slowly over more than a year, but then he told one of the store clerks he'd been going 'all organic' using just manure on his fields so he could charge more for his produce." She paused to snicker. "Ammonium Nitrate is not organic. The clerk called us. We went out to investigate and found a half-assembled VBIED in his barn."

"What's a VBIED?" I asked.

"Vehicle-borne improvised explosive device. Basically, a truck bomb."

"Jesus! What was he going to do with it?"

"When we arrested him, he started spouting government conspiracy theories that made Pizza-Gate sound like a bedtime story." She took a swig of her beer. "We found a map in his house marking the location of the FDA headquarters in Rockville. We think maybe he was going to try and blow it up."

"That's crazy," I said. "Well Nora, at least you got frisked for a good cause."

"If anyone is going to frisk me, I'd prefer it be Amber," she said.

Amber laughed. "Babe, if you want me to frisk you, you just need to ask. I'll even use my handcuffs."

"You can't threaten me with a good time."

The bartender walked up and set a shockingly pink drink in a hurricane glass in front of me.

"Hey, I didn't--"

"This is for you, from the woman in yellow at the end of the bar," she said, tilting her head down towards a woman wearing a bright, yellow sleeveless shirt, then walked away before I could ask any questions.

"Woo! You've got an admirer! Go get her, girl!" Amber said.

The woman raised her glass to me. It looked to be the same pink concoction that was sitting in front of me, hers half-empty. She was a few years younger than me, and a little more butch than I normally found attractive. Her hair was dark, cropped close on the sides and back and with the top spiked up over her head. I nodded my thanks to her.

"What are you waiting for? Go talk to her," Nora said.

"I don't know..."

"Addison! Go down there!" Amber gave me a gentle push.

I leaned in closer to the pair of them. "She's not really my type," I whispered.

"She's a living, breathing woman. You haven't been on a date in months! You need to flex your flirt muscles a little." She gave me another, less-gentle push.

I sighed and picked up the drink. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. I walked down to the end of the bar and the woman scooted over to make room next to her.

"Thanks for the drink," I said to her, "I'm Addison Wagner."

"Vivian Esparza. Call me Viv," she said, holding out her hand. I shook it, taking in the full sleeve of tattoos on her right arm and the wide, heavy leather bracelet encircling her wrist.

"I haven't seen you in here before," she said. "Love your dreadlocks. I couldn't resist sending you a drink! I hope that wasn't too forward, you looked like you were third-wheeling it with that couple." She tipped her glass towards Amber and Nora. I looked down their way, and got two encouraging grins.

"It was a first for me," I replied.

She blinked. "No one's ever sent you a drink before?"

I grinned. "Never a bright pink one."

She didn't grin back. "But... so wait, you have or haven't gotten a drink sent to you before?"

"Yes, I have, sorry. That was a joke."

She laughed, but it sounded forced. This is going great, I thought. I took my first sip, then struggled not to cough. It was fruity, but incredibly strong and not in any way smooth.

"What is this, anyway?" I asked her hoarsely.

"It's called a 'weekend-fling'," she said, with a grin of her own. It was apparent she was trolling for someone to go home with, which was not my style at all. Still, like Amber said, I could use the opportunity to flex my flirting muscles. I didn't have to actually let her close the deal.

"Really?" I asked, "I wonder if a 'one-night-stand' would be stronger or weaker than a 'weekend-fling'." That earned a real laugh from her. "So, Viv, what do you do, when you aren't sending pink beverages to women?"

"I'm a Metro driver," she said.

"Get out. You drive the actual Metro trains?"

"Yup. I'm on the Green line most days."

"Oh. I pretty much only ride the Red and Orange lines. How long does it take to learn to drive one of those?"

"They train us for a couple months before we go solo. I've been certified for two years now. What about you?"

"I'm a lawyer. I work for Lampedo Women's Legal Services. It's a nonprofit that provides free legal work for indigent and abused women."

"Really? That's rad!" she gushed.

She actually said rad. She might be younger than I'd guessed. "Yeah, it is pretty rad," I said with a smile.

"Wow, I sounded like a teenage girl just then, didn't I?" She looked embarrassed.

"It's okay. Most women spend their adult lives trying to seem younger. You're just getting a head start," I said, giving her a little smirk.

She blushed. "And maybe you're getting a head start on your mid-life, taking-a-younger-lover phase."

"Touché!" She could banter. Perhaps I misjudged her. "So, are you a regular here?" I asked.

A serious look crossed her face. "Are you asking if I'm a regular here, or are you asking do I come here every weekend and try and pick up the woman with the hottest hair in the bar?"

"The former, actually, but I wouldn't turn down an answer to the latter."

She looked away. "I'm not a professional pickup artist, if that's what you're asking. I had a break-up about a month ago. Finally decided I'm ready to get back in the game, so... here I am." She turned back and met my gaze again. "So, no, I don't cruise the bars every weekend looking to score a different trophy to take to bed. But if the right thing fell into my lap tonight I wouldn't say no." She let her eyes roam up and down my body. "I hadn't seen anyone worth my time tonight, until you walked in."

I flushed. "Well, thank you for your honesty. I'll return the favor. I don't do one-night stands, or even fall into bed with someone I think I might want to date the first night I meet them, but I'm not unwilling to get to know someone I might want to see again."

She grinned at me. "I like the sound of that, Addison... or, what do they call lawyers on TV? Counselor?"

I groaned. "Oh god, please don't call me that. You'll make me feel really old."

"Fair enough." She raised her glass, and I raised mine. We clinked, and we drank, then she patted me on the back as I erupted into a coughing fit.

"Maybe we should get you a beer, or a nice glass of juice."

I mock-glared at her, then caught the bartender's eye as she walked by and asked for a glass of water to go with my pink cocktail.

I was surprised to find almost an hour had passed when I was interrupted by my phone buzzing with a text from Amber. I looked down at the other end of the bar where both she and Nora were conspicuously not looking at me. I read the message while Viv watched me.

"Got to go?" she asked, as I typed out a quick reply.

"I'm afraid so. We have dinner reservations in Chinatown in half an hour. My friends were texting me to give me a hall pass to stay and hang out if I wanted to."

"And you don't want to stay and hang out?" She looked mildly hurt.

"I would like to, actually, but I haven't seen my friends in a long time and I only hung out with them for five minutes before someone really cute bought me a drink and took me away from them."

"That's totally understandable," she said, with a smile. She took my phone out of my hand and started tapping at it. I watched her with amusement. Her phone, lying on the bar, lit up with a text. "Now I have your number and you have mine." She reached for her phone and looked at her calendar. "Wanna go out next Saturday?" she asked me.

"Ooh, sorry I can't next Saturday. Friday maybe? Or rain check?"

"Sure, let's text later and we'll figure something out. In the meantime, I don't want you to forget about me."

She stepped closer, lifting her hand to cradle the back of my head, and then she was kissing me. I knew some girls in lesbian bars could be pretty forward, but I certainly wasn't. Usually. I was acutely aware of all the women crowded around us as I felt my body react despite myself. I froze for a half second, then I shrugged inwardly and returned her kiss, wrapping my free hand around her to touch the small of her back. She smelled like vanilla and leather.

She pulled back and I felt myself flushing.

I cleared my throat. "Well, I certainly can't forget you after that," I said.

"That was the idea," she said, smiling wolfishly.

She pulled her hand out from behind my head, trailing dreadlocks through her fingers.

"I'll look for your text sometime this week then," she said, and playfully pushed me towards my friends.

"You're an idiot," Amber told me, after we were seated at our table at Momiji in Chinatown a short Lyft ride later.

"Amber, I'm not going to go home with someone I just met. Besides, I haven't seen you two in weeks."

"Not for not going home with her, you dummy. For blowing her off next Saturday," said Amber pointedly.

"Should we get a bottle of sake?" Nora asked, as the waiter arrived.

"I need some more water first. That drink she bought me was potent," I said. We ordered drinks and appetizers, and the waiter left. "Anyway, it's not like I was just blowing her off. I have plans already."

"You have plans with your straight friend. This is a gay woman, who's into you. You're a gay woman, in case you forgot."

"Liz gets maybe one night off every week. Maybe once every month one of those nights is on a weekend if she's lucky. I made these plans with her like a month ago. I'm not going to blow off Liz for someone I just met." I was starting to get annoyed.

"Plans to go see some dumb local cover band?" Amber scoffed.

"Come on. The band members are some of her best friends! The guitarist was her commander and the pilot of her helicopter in the Army! Liz wants me to meet them, it's important to her. It's important to me!"

Amber was about to retort when Nora reached out, without looking up from the menu, and gently put a hand on her arm. "Babe, you're out of line," she said softly.

Amber pivoted in her seat to glare at Nora, and for a moment looked like she was ready to turn the heat up another notch, then she settled back in her seat.

"Sorry Addie... I'm sorry. Thanks Nor, you're right."

"Where is this coming from?" I asked her. "You're not usually like this."

"Addie, I just..." She sat, looking uncomfortable.

"Come on, you can tell me whatever it is."

The words rushed out of her. "You glow when you talk about Liz, and the only other times I've seen you do that were when you were falling for a woman. I'm afraid you're going to get hurt."

"What!?"

"Tell me there's not some piece of you that's sitting around hoping that things will change. That if you're a good enough friend to Liz, she'll suddenly realize she's queer and you'll live happily ever after."

"That's not it at all! She's my friend!"

"Just your friend?"

"Yes, just my friend," I said. At least that's what my mouth said. My brain felt like maybe Amber was hitting close to the mark.

I didn't like that she might be right.

~~ Alexandria, Virginia, April ~~