Page 54 of Beautiful Trauma
“No, but I wanted to be. I would’ve done anything to be deserving of someone like you.”
Simone reached over and brushed her hand over his jaw. “I’m so glad you rudely interrupted that horrible date. My parents were the worst at setting up blind dates.”
“Doubt it,” Ezra interjected, gaining their attention.
“Touché,” Simone said. “You would’ve thought I’d learned from my parents’ mistakes, but we always think we’re so much smarter than our parents.”
“I conveniently didn’t include the straws when the waitress picked up their shakes from me at the soda counter. I’d caught Simone’s eyes a few times, and I had a feeling she found me attractive. I had no way of knowing if she would approach me for the straws, send the putz over, or flag down her server, but it was my best shot at a few seconds alone with her.”
Simone laughed. “I took advantage of the opportunity to speak to the most handsome, cockiest boy I’d laid my eyes on. He was the kind of boy my mom warned me about. One look and I was ready to—”
“Mom,” Ezra said, cutting her off. “PG version.”
Paul and Simone laughed while staring into each other’s eyes.So this is what a stable marriage and real love looked like.My parents had never had this connection, and my mother had never remarried after my father died when I was ten. My heart cried out for this kind of relationship, and I must’ve released a little sigh because Paul and Simone turned and smiled at me, and Ezra squeezed my thigh beneath the table.
“Where were we?” Simone asked, sounding a little dazed from getting caught up in the emotions of the story.”
“It was lust at first sight,” Ezra said.
“Paul boldly asked me out on a date, and I turned him down.”
“I wanted to argue, but she aimed her no-nonsense glare at me. I thought I’d lost my chance with my dream girl, but she returned to the diner the very next day with her girlfriends. They kept looking at me and giggling.”
“What did you do?” I asked Paul.
“I held their straws captive, hoping she would approach me again,” he replied.
“And I did,” Simone said wistfully. “As I hoped, he asked me out again, and I said yes.”
Ezra started laughing. “Now we’re getting to the good part where Mom uses her stubborn glare on his behalf instead of directing it at him. Tell them about arriving at Grandma and Grandpa Clarkson’s house.”
“While I came from a very humble beginning, my sweet girl was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. I arrived on my scooter at what I would still describe as a mansion to pick up Simone. Joseph wasn’t at all impressed with my denim jeans and leather jacket, but he nearly had a stroke when he saw Steed in the circular driveway. He forbade her to go out with a no-good loser like me.”
“And I gave him ‘the look.’ He could threaten me all he wanted, but there was no way in hell I was missing out on a chance to go on a date with the only guy who had revved my engine.”
“Gross,” Ezra muttered, but I found it adorable.
“How long did it take for him to come around?” I asked.
Paul softly smiled at his wife. “He knew I wasn’t all bad when I gave my only helmet to Simone to wear on our first date, his respect grew for me on the occasions I accepted his generosity even when it stung my pride, but he didn’t fully forgive me until he saw Simone holding Ezra for the first time. He still blusters around and says she could’ve done better, but he’s only teasing me.”
“Mostly teasing,” Simone added. “He tried to introduce me to the grandson of one of the residents living in his retirement community.”
“That wily old bastard. Just wait until I see him again,” Paul said, but there was no heat in his words. He was one hundred percent certain of his place in Simone’s world.
The conversation flowed naturally while we finished dinner, and I was so relaxed that I didn’t freeze up when Paul inquired about my degree.
“I’m studying for a Bachelor of Science degree in sociology and hope to become a counselor to help people within the LGBTQ+ community, especially the most vulnerable like homeless youth and those with HIV.”
“That’s wonderful,” Simone said. “Ezra told us about a transition home called Ryan’s Place. He said they do wonderful work there. Are you familiar with them? Paul is setting up a golf outing as a fundraiser for them in October.”
Ezra squeezed my thigh again, signaling I could say as much or as little as I wanted to. It was my story to tell when, and if, I wanted to share it. It was nearly impossible to say anything with the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. Oddly, none of my feelings were shame. I wish I’d been smarter about safe-sex practices, but there’s no reset button on life. My options were to wallow in self-pity or become a positive force in the world. I was proud of the work Archie did, grateful for my months there, and happy Ezra enlisted his parents to support Ryan’s Place. There was no room for shame in my life.
“Ryan’s Place saved my life,” I said softly. “If not for them, I can’t say for certain that I’d be sitting here right now. It’s hard for me to imagine never knowing Ezra, or tasting these ribs, or anticipating your razzleberry jam, but it’s the truth. It’s not hard for a person to lose their will to fight when the world as they know it rejects them. I cannot survive everything I’ve gone through and not be a crusader for others who find themselves in the same position. I’m so grateful the two of you are joining the good fight too.”
“Oh, Henry,” Simone said, reaching across the table to cover my hand once more. I knew she must have a million questions, but she didn’t ask a single one. She also looked at me with compassion and empathy, not pity or disgust. The back of my nose burned with impending tears. Ezra leaned over and kissed my temple.
“Well,” Paul said with a thick voice, “I’m even happier about supporting Ryan’s Place now.” He lifted his glass of wine and tipped it in my direction. “Here’s to the survivors and crusaders who make the world a better place.”