My Perfect Imperfections (16 page)

My new place looks like a high-rise building. They have some units that are specifically made for individuals like me. It’s a beautiful one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment and completely handicapped accessible. The doors are wide enough for my power wheelchair to fit, and the shower is a wide walk-in shower so my shower chair can roll right in. The apartment itself is on the eleventh floor, but there’s an elevator I can use.

In terms of safety, there’s always a doorman downstairs by the front door. He has a company cell phone, so if I should need something, I can just text that number. If, for some strange reason, I may need help in the middle of the night, I can use a switch that’s attached to my bed. It’s about ten centimeters in diameter, so it’s large enough that I can easily activate it with my hand. This switch is connected to the phone that will immediately call the doorman downstairs. The doormen are instructed to call my parents and 911 immediately if they receive a call from me in the middle of the night. I once again thank my lucky stars that I have the assistive technology background and access to the resources.

My parents also buy me the personal emergency activating bracelet which would immediately call the emergency department through my phone. Luckily, all I have to do is turn my wrist a certain way and just bang the switch on a hard surface to activate it.

My parents sit through each interview for every single applicant for my personal helpers. Lauren is still able to help out, but because she now has kids, most of the help she can provide is on weekends. Lauren refers me to some of her colleagues, though, and since I trust her, this works out well for me. It’s tricky because many of the applicants are used to helping elderlies and may not necessarily understand how to help somebody like me. So, I decide to put a training manual together, which outlines every single aspect of my care. This includes how to use my power wheelchair and my communication device, as well as how to assist me with feeding, bathing, toileting, dressing, and transferring me. I also list the times indicating exactly when I wake up, go to bed, shower, eat, and toilet. My body has been trained to the routine for years. I don’t know why I haven’t thought about putting a manual like this together from the beginning. So many times, my caregivers have struggled in the past. The very first sentence reads, “I am an adult with the same intelligence as you. If you can’t remember that, then you can’t work for me.”

Even with all of the precautions, my parents visit me several times a week. Besides their visits, Kathy and I usually hang out together on weekends. This suits me fine because work and living on my own keep me plenty busy to keep my mind occupied. If I allow myself any downtime, then my thoughts immediately drift to Chance. We haven’t contacted one another since he left, which is for the best. He’s got his goals, and he definitely doesn’t need me to slow them down. Yet, a part of me wonders if he’s still keeping in touch with my parents.

I may be able to control my thoughts during the day by staying busy, but I fail miserably at night. My nights are haunted by dreams of the familiar touch, the strong arms holding me in an embrace, and those soft lips that awakened the desires I’ve worked so hard to bury through the years.

I receive my Master’s sooner than anticipated, and I’m immediately promoted. I have my own classes that I teach instead of simply assisting other teachers or professors. I preprogram my material into my communication device, so the lectures move smoothly. I also have all of my information not only projected on the screen during the lectures, but it’s also available online. Luckily, the classes I teach are focused on special needs and assistive technology. Occasionally, I’m also a guest speaker for other classes.

As I’m finishing up my day at work one day, Dr. Chaudry, one of the professors, approaches me. “Miss Cooper, I think it would greatly benefit my students if you could be one of my guest speakers in my class on sexuality.”

Immediately, my muscles tense. This is definitely not a topic I’m comfortable thinking about, let alone discussing in front of an auditorium full of students.

“I’m not sure how I can help?” I ask.

“I was hoping you could cover sexuality for people with disabilities. I believe this is a topic that is overlooked, and it’s so important that people understand.”

I gulp and look away. I don’t want to do this, but a part of me also knows he’s right. So many times, this topic is a taboo, especially when associated with people with disabilities.

“Can I think about it?” I finally ask.

“Of course. Would you be able to let me know tomorrow? I’m making my schedule for the month.”

“Sure, no problem,” I answer and drive my wheelchair away.

That night, I stay awake, stressing about my decision. I’ve purposefully avoided thinking about my own needs and desires through the years. I’d gotten pretty good at not facing that part of my life unless Chance was around me. Even when he didn’t try, somehow he was able to arouse those sensations.

But, I’ve promised myself that I won’t run from my fears any longer. Maybe doing this lecture will force me to finally deal with my own issues. Hopefully, I can perhaps teach the students that it shouldn’t be seen as a taboo.

The next day, I find Dr. Chaudry and tell him that I can be his guest speaker.

“I’m thrilled to hear that, Miss Cooper. Would you be able to do this lecture next week?”

“Of course,” I reply, kicking myself for agreeing to do this.

During the week, I bury myself in my research. It’s important that I present this lecture just right so the students understand with an open mind.

After I’m satisfied with the material, I program my lecture into my communication device. I want to be thoroughly prepared since there will be over a hundred students attending this lecture.

“Hello, I’m Miss Cooper and I’ll be your guest speaker today. I will be covering sexuality and disabilities. Some of you may have seen me driving my wheelchair down the hallways and may have wondered what was wrong with me. Well, I have Cerebral Palsy. There are different types, but the kind I have has affected me physically. So, I have a hard time controlling my muscles.” I pause, glancing through the auditorium full of students. “So, let me just ask you, and please be honest with your answers because I’m not easily offended. How many of you would see me down the hall and think that I was pretty?”

I scan the room and almost everybody raises their hand. “Okay, of all the guys who have raised their hands, how many would ask me out on a date? Again, be honest.”

Slowly, the hands lower until no hand is left up.

“That’s because you’re a teacher,” somebody blurts out from the back of the room.

“Is that really the reason? What if I were a student here?”

Everybody remains silent.

“There are many types of disabilities in this world, and, unfortunately, when something or someone is different from the ‘norm,’ human nature is to avoid it. If we don’t understand something, then if we ignore it enough, maybe it’ll go away.”

I smile to myself because I know I have their undivided attention. They are intrigued and they want to learn.

I then bring up different types of disabilities and play a video on various people with disabilities and sexual needs. Luckily, I’ve been able to purchase it for teaching purposes and download it for this lecture.

“At the very least, I hope this lecture has made you question certain things you haven’t thought about. I do hope you don’t automatically shut yourself away from somebody in a wheelchair or somebody who may not walk or talk quite the way you’re used to. Remember, everybody has needs and desires. I promise you that most people with disabilities do not allow their disabilities to define them. Do yourself a favor and maybe make an effort to get to know somebody who’s different than you. You never know…this person may be the one for you.”

When the lecture is completed, to my surprise, some of the students stand up and begin applauding. Soon, the whole class follows their lead. I smile but keep myself busy behind my communication device.

As the students exit, many stop to say how much they enjoyed my lecture and that they will be taking the classes I teach in the future. When I finally leave the auditorium, one particular guy walks out with me.

“My name is Jeremy, Miss Cooper. Thanks for sharing your knowledge with us today.”

I smile politely, but continue to drive my wheelchair.

“I’m going to have to confess here. I’ve always thought you were really pretty when I’ve seen you around. And now, I’m definitely intrigued. Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

I stop my wheelchair and look up at him in surprise. Jeremy’s eyes are twinkling as he waits for my answer. He looks to be around twenty years old, and I have to admit, he’s a very good-looking guy. Even though I resist, immediately, I’m captivated by his piercing blue eyes.

“I’m flattered. But no, I’m your teacher, remember?” I answer with my device.

“Well, not technically. I mean I’m not enrolled in any of your classes and you were just a guest speaker here. So…” Jeremy smirks, proud of himself.

I can’t help but smile at his charm. He’s definitely a confident young man, and I’m proud of him for thinking outside the box. “Truly, I’m flattered. Again, no thank you. It’s still a teacher-student relationship. Besides, I’m dating somebody right now.”

I have no idea what makes me say that lie. I suppose it must have been an easy way out from this awkward situation. Although I carry myself confidently in front of people, truth is, I’ve never done well with compliments.

“Wow, he’s one lucky guy because he’s got himself a gem. Hope he treats you well.” Jeremy leans forward and quickly kisses my hand. “Farewell, my lady.”

I watch him disappear down the hall, satisfied that perhaps my lecture did make a difference.

I take the bus back to my apartment that evening. Luckily, I’ve become very familiar with the transit system that is able to accommodate my wheelchair. Most of the drivers are also accustomed to me by now, and that makes it very nice.

Exhausted from work, I drive my wheelchair straight into the elevator once I reach the apartment complex. I close my eyes, dreaming of crashing into my bed as soon as I go into my apartment. I know it’ll have to wait, though, because Mandy, my personal helper, will be here soon to help me with my evening routine. I have to use the bathroom and my stomach is rumbling from hunger.

Luckily, I don’t have to use a key or a key card to open my door. The door is sensor activated, and the sensor has been attached to my emergency bracelet. Living like this my entire life, as well as the knowledge from my degree and research, is definitely a huge asset to my creativity.

When the elevator stops on my floor, I drive my wheelchair out and head down the hall. My muscles feel especially tight today. It may be because I’ve been stressed about the lecture the entire week. Craving for a bathtub to soak myself in, I’m thankful that at least I’ll have aqua therapy this weekend. My body desperately needs it.

Once I reach my apartment door, I swipe my sensor on the switch by the door. As soon as the door swings open, it stays open for approximately twenty seconds. This way, it gives me plenty of time to drive my wheelchair into the apartment.

“Hello, Lily.”

I almost crash my wheelchair into the wall when I hear Chance’s voice behind me. Shaking like a leaf, I somehow manage to drive into my apartment with Chance close behind.

Immediately, a million thoughts attack my brain. What is he doing here? Oh my gosh! I probably look like crap! How did he know where to find me? Is he really here? I wish he had warned me, so I could have gotten myself ready.

Staring at him with my eyes wide, I remain speechless.

“How about, ‘Wow, Chance! Great to see you! I’ve missed you!’” Chance says, his lips trying to hide a smile.

Still, I’m incapable of responding. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake off that he’s standing right before my eyes.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do the talking.” Chance walks around the apartment. “I love your place. It suits you. And, you look fantastic, as always. I’ve missed you, Lily.”

I can already feel my blood pressure rising. Why does he think he can just come and go in and out of my life as he pleases? What infuriates me the most is that every time he shows up—with no warning—he acts like everything is perfectly normal, as if he’s never left.

“How did you know to find me here? And why did the doorman let you up?” I furiously use my device to give him a piece of my mind.

“I keep tabs on you, remember? Besides, I’ve kept in touch with your parents. As far as the doorman goes, again, I have your parents to thank for that.” Chance smiles, proud of himself.

If I could pick something up and throw it at him to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, I would. I can feel the heat creeping up to my face from rage. How dare my parents just dictate who goes in and out of my apartment without consulting with me!

I spin my wheelchair away from him, needing the space to think clearly. Just when I get used to my comfortable routine, he shows up again, disrupting everything that I’ve worked so hard to build. I can’t have my heart be shattered again. This time, I don’t think it’s strong enough to take it. My only solution is to harden it and not give him the power to bring my walls down that I’ve carefully constructed.

“Lily, please don’t do this. Why are you upset?”

Why am I upset? Why am I upset? Because every time you leave, you take a piece of me with you! I can’t allow you to take any more of me!

But, those words remain unspoken. I turn toward him again and ask, “What are you doing here?”

Chance takes a deep breath. “Hmm, where do I start?”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. “Hey, Lily! It’s me!” Mandy yells from the other side of the door.

“Who’s that?” Chance asks.

Ignoring his question, I drive my wheelchair past him and unlock the door with my sensor. Luckily, we’ve adapted the door so I can use my sensor to unlock it from inside as well.

“Hey, Lily!” Mandy says as she walks in. By now, we’ve become good enough friends that she’s very familiar with me. As soon as Mandy sees Chance standing in the middle of the living room, her mouth drops.

Chance walks right up to her and says, “Hello, I’m Chance, Lily’s friend.”

Mandy stares at his extended hand and finally shakes it. “Oh, sorry, I’m Mandy, Lily’s personal helper. I’ll be assisting her this evening.”

“Oh, no need. I can help her today,” Chance says nonchalantly, waving her away.

“No,” I interject. “I don’t need your help. Mandy will be staying.”

Chance shrugs his shoulders and takes a seat on the sofa. Turning the TV on with the remote, he says, “Okay, suit yourself. I’ll just watch TV while I wait. Oh, and you don’t mind if I help myself to whatever you’ve got in the fridge, do you?” Chance walks into the kitchen and inspects the fridge.

Giving up, I head to my bedroom. Since the bedroom is attached to the bathroom, I close the bedroom door once Mandy follows me.

“Oh, my goodness, Lily! He is gorgeous!” Mandy gushes.

I roll my eyes, not at all surprised that Mandy is taken in by him. He has that gift of winning everybody over, especially the female population.

Mandy realizes I’m in no mood to talk about Chance, so she gets busy with our evening ritual. After helping me in the bathroom and then showering me, she asks, “Do you want me to quickly put on some light makeup or do your hair really quick? You know, for your guest.” Mandy smiles and then winks.

I shake my head no. I refuse to do anything out of my usual routine just because he’s sitting in my apartment. No, I will not give him that power.

Mandy sighs in frustration. “Fine, but just for the record, I don’t like it. I think you should wear something especially nice for him and get ready.”

I shake my head no and point to my usual pajamas.

“No, Lily! You can’t wear those ugly plaid pajamas! Besides, it’s only 8 o’clock on a Friday night. I know you’re not already calling it a night.”

Actually, I am ready to call it a night. I just need to eat something and then I’m done for the day. Nothing that Mandy can say will change my mind.

Defeated, Mandy helps put the pajamas on me. Once I’m seated back in my own wheelchair with my device, I say, “Thank you. Now, it’s time for some food and then that bed is calling my name.”

Since I have my Meals on Wheels, all Mandy has to do is heat up my food. While she feeds me in the kitchen, Chance continues to watch TV. I notice that he has helped himself to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the beer from the fridge.

Once done, Mandy helps me one more time in the bathroom and asks if she should do anything else before leaving.

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Mandy. Have a great night.”

Chance stands up while Mandy is leaving and walks her to the door. “It’s nice to meet you, Mandy. Take care of yourself.”

“Oh, very nice to meet you, Chance,” Mandy answers, giggling.

The interaction is sickening. Does he have any idea what kind of effect he has on the opposite sex? Hell, probably even the same sex.

When Chance sits back down on the sofa, he turns to me. “You calling it a night already? I mean, it’s not even 9 o’clock yet.”

“I’m tired,” I reply, keeping my answers short.

“I thought we’d talk for a bit…you know, catch up.”

“Talk about what?” I ask, still irritated that he has my emotions in turmoil.

“Who was that guy today at college who asked you out?” Chance suddenly asks, taking me by complete surprise.

“What?” I ask, using my own voice.

“Well, I was there. Every time I come to find you, there’s always some guy hitting on you. What the hell!” Chance swigs his beer.

“What were you doing there?” I finally ask with my device, more confused than ever.

“Actually, I’ve been in town since yesterday. I stopped in at the college today to see everybody again, especially since they’re my old colleagues. Okay, that’s a lie. It was mostly to see you. On my way to the staff lounge, I ran into Dr. Chaudry. He always knew we were close friends, so he told me you were about to be his guest speaker. Of course, when I found out it was about sexuality, I got curious. So, here’s where you may get mad…” Chance starts to laugh while I glare at him. “I snuck into the auditorium because curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

Completely humiliated, all I want is for the ground to open and swallow me. “Not cool,” I respond, keeping a straight face.

“Nope, it wasn’t. Like I said, curiosity got the best of me. I must say, though, you did a fantastic job. I was very impressed on how you handled the topic. You captured their attention immediately.”

I don’t respond because I have no idea where he’s going with this.

“And then that punk followed you out. Do you even know the guy?”

“He was not a punk,” I answer.

“Well, he was a lot younger than you.”

“What? I’m not that old!” I answer, furious at what he’s implying.

Chance laughs, apparently enjoying himself. “I’m glad you turned him down.”

I sigh, frustrated that he’s buying time and not answering any of my questions. Sensing my exhaustion, he stands back up. “Okay, come on, I’ll help you to bed. Let me stretch you out for a bit. I promise I’ll leave you alone afterward.”

I want to refuse his offer, but my muscles have been so tight that I know it will feel really good if he works on them. In the end, my body wins out over my mind. I allow him to take me to bed and massage my muscles.

After working with me for good forty-five minutes, he says, “Much better now. Your muscles are becoming tighter. Still attending therapy on weekends?”

I nod, my body melting under his magical touch. The tighter my muscles become, the more the pain. Although my body has gotten used to this, sometimes it can be so painful that I have to remain immobile until it passes.

“Do you want me to stay the night, Lily? I can crash here.”

I shake my head no. Once he lies next to me, I know all the walls will come tumbling down.

Chance tucks me in and says, “Okay, but have dinner with me tomorrow. I’m staying at a nearby hotel.”

Again, I shake my head no.

“What do you mean no? I want to talk to you…about things. Sorry, you’re not allowed to just push me away just because you don’t want to deal with it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around seven in the evening. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Chance gives me a brief kiss on my forehead before I can reply and walks out of my bedroom. When I hear the apartment door close, I release my breath that I must have been holding.

The rest of the night, I toss and turn, as the images of him refuse to leave my mind.