Past Heaven (14 page)

HOLY SHIT
. SEEING Jack’s image in front of me was daunting. He smiled with a fervor that was evident even in a photograph. Other men, particularly “regular” guys like Jack, had never intimidated me, but I was out of my league after learning about this man’s history. I looked like a shallow jerk in comparison. I turned to Liz and caught her wiping her eyes.

“Gets me every time,” she whispered. “Okay, let’s do this.” She took a deep breath and entered the office.

I rubbed the stubble on my chin. Christ, I did not want to fuck up here. What I said in the car was so stupid. Jack, even when he first met Liz, would have never been that idiotic. But Liz handled my question with ease. She was stronger than I thought.

Liz was met with hugs and kisses from the staff. I hung back and watched how much she was adored by the employees at Warren.

I was so busy thinking about her and Jack’s impact at the agency that I missed the silence that descended on the room. I looked up to see about twenty people gathered in front of their cubicles, gawking at me. Their faces were barely blinking as they focused only on me.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Reynolds Carter,” Liz announced. “He’ll be working with me on a screenplay, and hopefully, a movie about Jack’s life.” Gasps filled the room as people took in the enormity of what she was saying. I was pretty certain most people here had never met an actor, at least not one that made major motion pictures, and here I was ready to make a movie about their Jack. I was sure it was a lot to absorb.

“We’re here today for Reynolds to meet David and some of his friends. If you’re willing, Reynolds may come back another time to interview some of you and fill in any gaps for Jack’s storyline. I hope everyone is okay with that.”

Various exclamations of “Sure!” “Of course!” and “Anytime!” filled the room.

I stepped forward. “I’m honored that Liz is allowing me to tell Jack’s story, which is also your story. I’d love to hear your thoughts about Jack and his work. It’s humbling to be in the presence of people who dedicate their lives to this important work. I promise to honor what you do in this movie.” I looked over, and Liz smiled.

A full-figured, older woman with long, braided, black hair stepped forward. “Hello, baby. I’m Carla. I’ve been a supervisor here for twenty-five years. I can fill in all sorts of gaps for you.” She leaned closer to me. “And that’s not all I can do for you, sugar. You’re so hot you’re on fire. Mmm, mmm.”

My mouth fell open, and I looked to Liz with a pleading expression. She merely held up one finger. My stomach sank. The promise of her chicken parmesan was slipping away.

“Carla. You’ve been happily married for thirty years. Leave that poor man alone.” Liz grinned as the room erupted in laughter. Liz took my arm and led me to the lunchroom.

“Nice meeting you all!” I called back as we hurried out.

We entered the agency’s kitchen area, which looked like any standard office lunch space. What made it unique were the fifteen or so faces that eagerly welcomed us.

A tall, thin man with cropped brown hair and brown eyes that matched his sister’s stood up. “Lizzy Bear!” His face broke into a huge smile as he limped over and enveloped Liz in a hug.

“David, I’m so glad to see you today. How was work this morning?” Liz rubbed her hands along his bone-thin arms.

I could see right away what Liz was talking about. David had many disabilities. His arms, hands, and legs were buckled and seemed almost frozen in position. His body looked frail and his speech was slow and slurred. There was no mistaking he needed significant help, but within thirty seconds of meeting him, I could also tell that he was special.

“Took out the trash and recycling. It’s hard work, but somebody’s got to do it. I need my money, Lizzy Bear.”

Liz nodded and winked at me. “I know. So you can shop for me. What are you gonna buy me?” The room full of people began hooting and yelling, telling her she was a troublemaker and to leave the man’s money alone. Liz giggled and sat in a chair next to her brother.

A loud voice from the next table quieted everyone abruptly. “Hey! That’s not Jack!”

No one spoke for a minute until the woman sitting next to the man that yelled, whispered loudly, “He’s dead! Remember?”

Liz and I locked eyes. She gave me a quick nod, and I felt that was her sign that she was okay. From everything she had shared with me, I knew some people with special needs had little to no social filter and often said it like it was. It was a refreshing change from the two-faced backstabbing and rumors of Hollywood. But I had been concerned Liz might be hurt by the outburst.

She reached out and gently rubbed David’s arm, whose brow was wrinkled as he studied the tabletop in front of him. “Everyone, I want to introduce you to my friend. He’s making a movie about Jack.” The cheers and hollers erupted again.

“Hi. My name is Reynolds. It’s nice to meet you all.” I sat in a chair opposite David. “David, I’ve heard a lot about you. Your sister loves to talk about you.” David shook my hand weakly and grinned. Surprisingly, I felt relaxed around this friendly group. David watched his sister with total adoration, and I could feel the deep bond between them. A pang of envy I had never known moved through me.

“I know. She loves me tons. Tells me I’m the most handsome guy she knows, and I buy her chocolate bars. Then, she splits ‘em in half with me. We’re a good team.”

I nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat, as Liz grasped David’s hand.

“The best team, my main man. The best. Okay, now where is Andy?” Liz searched the room as Andy, a dark haired man with a wild smile rolled over to me in his wheel chair.

“Hell, hell, hello RRRRReynolds. I’m Andy.” Andy stuttered and extended his hand. I peered at his legs and saw only bony structures covered by pants. They had stopped working long ago, if ever.

“Gentle, Andy.” Liz reminded him as I shook hands with the strongest grip I had ever encountered.
Damn
. This guy’s hands were like cinder blocks. He could probably punch through a wall. Where was this guy when Tommy O’Donnell was picking on me at the playground thirty years ago?

“Andy’s wicked strong from rolling that chair all day,” Liz said, resting her arm over Andy’s shoulder. “He’s also David’s best friend and roommate. And this is Lucy, Andy’s girlfriend.”

Lucy came over and shook hands with me. Her narrow eyes, short stature, and flat nose were a hint that she had Down syndrome.

“Oh, and here’s Abby. Hi Abby, honey, how are you?” Liz hugged another young woman with Downs and gave me a big grin over her shoulder.

Abby then leaned over to hug me and didn’t let go. She seemed completely comfortable to just stand there, hugging me tightly and humming a song.

“Abby,” Liz warned, “let go and introduce yourself.” Abby reluctantly released me and then gave me a beaming smile.

“You’re a very sexy guy. I heard on the TV that you’re single now. Had a bad breakup. Me, too. Thomas over there cheated on me. Dickhead Thomas. Would you like to go to the dance with me on Friday? I’m a really, really good kisser. Ask Thomas.”

Shit
. How was I supposed to handle this one?

Thankfully, Liz decided to save me. “Abby that’s sweet of you, but Reynolds is here to work, not dance. Maybe you can dance with David.” She elbowed her brother who laughed and looked at the floor while murmuring to himself. Abby, meanwhile, shot Liz a death glare. Liz looked up at me and shrugged then held up two fingers. I chuckled and realized my fate was sealed.

While the afternoon went on, we met many of David’s friends and Jack’s co-workers. The level of dedication and professionalism the staff showed was impressive. The individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities I met were respected, well-cared for, and thriving. I was also hit-on at least seven times, much to my chagrin and Liz’s delight.

As we exited the building, an older man was about to board a white bus, about half the size of the buses I was used to seeing on the streets.

“Elwood! Elwood, can you hang on one second?” Liz ran over to the older man, who turned around with a huge grin when he heard her. I noticed a jagged scar that ran down the side of his face.

“Hello, sweet Liz,” the man said slowly. Liz hugged him and asked the driver if he could wait one minute.

“Elwood. I want to introduce you to my friend, Reynolds. He’s making a movie about Caldwell closing.” Elwood nodded and met my eyes. We shook hands as Liz continued. “Elwood was one of the first people to leave Caldwell. He had lived there his whole life, but as soon as Jack met him, he knew Elwood could not only leave the center, but hold a job and live independently as well. Elwood’s a full-time janitor here at the agency and has his own apartment. He’s a true success story, and we’re all so proud of him.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elwood.”

He smiled and reached out to hug me. I again tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. After several run-ins with over-zealous fans, I hesitated whenever a stranger tried to hug me. Today I met people that cared so much about each other that handshakes weren’t enough.

Elwood’s voice was shaky. “My whole life I was called a retard. Told I was stupid, worth nothin’. At Caldwell, they would hit me if I didn’t eat fast enough, make my bed right, or clean the bathroom correct. Took my things, laughed at me when I couldn’t speak, and gave me no respect. Hated it there. I’ll never forget Jack. He met me. Shook my hand. Treated me like a man. He saved my life, and I love him.”

I could only nod as Elwood turned and walked up the stairs to the bus. He waved from his seat as it pulled away. I stood, unable to move, as I watched the bus turn down the street. My thoughts were all over the place while everything around me moved in slow motion.

Liz turned toward me, and our eyes met. She looked concerned. “Are you okay? Too much?”

I couldn’t answer her. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it as we walked to the car. It was too much, but it was all the right kind of too much.

REYNOLDS HAD DECIDED to write alone at the farm the next day. He had told me he was overwhelmed and needed the day to clear his head. I had called him in the afternoon and invited him over for a late dinner.

I stood in front of the stove, stirring my marinara sauce and sipping a glass of Chianti, when I heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” I hollered.

“Hi there.” He spoke softly as he came into the kitchen. “It smells outstanding in here. What are you cooking?”

“Chicken parmesan.” I grinned at his raised eyebrows. “I know I won, but I couldn’t tease you with the promise of a world famous meal and not deliver. It would be cruel. Plus, I was craving it.”

“How did I end up benefitting from your cravings in the kitchen?” Reynolds leaned over, inhaling the scent of the sauce and groaned. “I’ve been using food solely for weight loss or muscle gain, depending on the movie role I landed. I’ve forgotten what real food tastes like.”

I smiled and put a small amount of sauce on a spoon for him to try. “This is one of my favorite ways to show my family how much I care for them.”

Reynolds tried the sauce and his eyes closed in pleasure.

I was shocked by how comfortable I felt at that very moment. The simple fact was that I enjoyed his company. I’d gotten so used to being alone every night that it was a treat to take care of another adult.

Reynolds took the plate I handed him, and our fingers brushed briefly. A tingle ran through me, and I whirled back around to the stove.

“Where are the boys tonight?”

I looked over my shoulder and saw Reynolds sitting at the table. “Downstairs. They ate earlier and are having a movie night.” I squeezed my hands together, flexing and un-flexing them to get rid of that tingly sensation. I had become tolerant of some touch. The number of times he had squeezed my hand as we discussed a painful topic had steadily increased. I was improving.

I joined him at the table with my plate of food. “Wine? Do you like Chianti?” I avoided eye contact and concentrated on the label of the bottle.

“I do.” The rasp to his voice made my stomach flip. “Let me.” Reynolds took the bottle from my hand, once again causing us to touch. He smiled, but I couldn’t do the same. That small sliver of contact made me nervous. This was nothing more than an accidental touch between friends, but it was almost like I wanted it to be more. I needed to get a handle on myself.

We ate in silence. Except for the moans. The guy must have really liked Italian food. After each bite, he sighed or groaned and my heartbeat sped. His reaction was to the food, but hell if it didn’t sound intimate.

My mind raced.
Intimate? What was wrong with me?
Nothing is special here
. This was a simple meal shared with a work colleague
.

We need to start talking.

I cleared my throat and distracted myself with another sip, okay gulp, of wine.
Open your damn mouth and speak, Liz!
“How are you feeling after our trip to the agency?”
Thank you, brain.
That was better
.