She cupped her tits in her hands and pinched the pink nipples. “You telling me a phone call is better than this?”
I knew women well enough not to tell her the truth. So I shrugged. “Tonight’s not gonna work. I’m not sure when will work. I’ve got a busy week ahead of me.” In case these feelings that were screwing with my head where Reese was concerned faded, I didn’t want to end things with Cordelia. She was a friend, too.
She reached down and snatched up her top and jerked it back on. “Fine. Be an ass. I won’t be back, so if you want it, you have to come and get it,” she said angrily.
Oh, man. This wasn’t why I screwed around with her. Cordelia didn’t do drama. She was easy to handle. This was drama. I hated drama.
“Sorry, Cord. I really am. But I have a lot going on right now. It’s just not a good time for me. Mentally, I’m not in the game.”
She glared at me and slammed the door behind her.
With any luck, she’d sleep on this and be over it tomorrow. I liked Cordelia. I just never liked her for more than a friend. The sex thing was just better than jacking off alone. I needed to apologize to her, but for now, I was glad she’d left without too much of a fuss.
My phone rang. Suddenly, I didn’t care about Cordelia anymore.
“Hey,” I said, as I held the phone to my ear, anxious to hear Reese tell me about her meeting.
“I hope it’s not too late. There was a wreck on Thirty-One A, and traffic was backed up.” Her soft voice warmed me through the phone.
“No, it’s not too late. Who drove you?”
“I took a cab. There’s a lady Jimmy knows who lives near Panama City. She’s been working this strip of the beach for about twenty years. We don’t have many taxis around here.”
She had been with a lady. That made me feel better. A strange man driving her would have made her uncomfortable. I hadn’t thought about that. I kept forgetting that she didn’t have a car. Wait . . . “Reese, can you drive?” If she couldn’t read, she never would have passed her written test to get a license.
“No,” she answered.
Another thing that had hindered her life. “Next time I’m in town, I’m taking you out on a back road and giving you lessons. We’ll study the written test, too.”
She was silent a moment. I wondered if she was scared to get behind a wheel. Then I finally heard her shuffle around. “OK. I’d like that.”
I would, too. “Tell me about your meeting.”
“Dr. Munroe was nice. He’s very excited about helping me. I took some tests, and I’m definitely dyslexic. That’s it. That’s all that’s wrong with me. He said my teachers or my parents should have caught it when I was a kid, but somehow it was overlooked or misdiagnosed . . .” She trailed off. I didn’t want her thoughts going there. Someone had told her she was stupid, and I knew her parents were part of that.
“When do you start working with him?”
“Monday afternoons, he has to come to Grayton Beach, which isn’t too far from here. His mother lives there, and he has dinner with her. He said we could meet at the library in town. Then, on Thursday afternoons, I have to go to his office to do lessons. He thinks I’ll read quickly once he helps me learn how to focus on the words. No one has worked with me before the way I need.”
She was excited. As she continued, she got louder and talked faster. It was cute. I could imagine her blue eyes twinkling with happiness.
“By the time you come back, I might be able to read to you,” she said, and then I heard her nervous laugh like she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“Why wait until I visit? You can read to me on the phone when you call to tell me about your lessons.”
She was quiet again, and I let her play with that idea a moment. I didn’t want to make her skittish. But I did want her to be comfortable with me. Even on the phone. “You want me to call after my lessons?” she asked.
“Of course I do. If that’s OK. I’d like to know how things go.”
“Yes, that’s fine. I’m . . . I will do that. And when I’m brave enough, I’ll read to you.”
Reese
For two weeks, I went to my lessons and called Mase afterward. By the fourth lesson, I realized that I was more excited about hearing Mase’s voice than I was about my actual lessons. And that was saying a lot, because I loved my lessons. I loved how strong I felt as I learned to focus on words and decipher what things said.
I would never be a fast or avid reader. Dr. Munroe had told me not to let that get me down. Reading would never be my strong point, but I would be able to do it. This wouldn’t hold me back from driving, going to college, or filling out job applications anymore.
At the beginning of our third week, I was all set to meet Dr. Munroe at the library in town. He was going to send me home with a book to practice on. The last two books he had given me were very simple, one or two words a page, picture books. I had read those in five minutes each by my next lesson. He was going to give me something more complicated tonight. I was preparing myself for it. I could do it.