little more force than strictly necessary, but Peter didn’t seem to notice. I wished I could see his eyes, but of course he was wearing his sunglasses again.
Tom shook his lank, sandy blond hair out of his eyes and hiked himself up in his wheelchair with a jerky movement. He focused on me, ignoring Peter. “You look pretty today,” he ground out in a rough, difficult voice.
I smiled back. “Thanks. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”
He rolled his eyes in disbelief. Tom’s body was twisted by tone. While my brain sent out signals in a disjointed kind of way that made my movements clumsy or weak, his brain was constantly telling his muscles to fire. The constant muscle contractions pulled everything out of balance. He had to work hard just to sit up straight or lift his head. His natural resting posture tended to be a sort of curled up hunch.
The woman with Tom was making eyes at Peter. “I’m Yolanda,” she said brightly, fluffing out her bleach blond hair. She was dressed in the typical aide’s outfit- khakis and a Navy polo shirt with her company’s insignia sewn on the front. This wasn’t her usual kind of garb, if the dangly gold earrings and brightly polished nails were any indicator. She was also wearing bright red lipstick and way too much perfume. I glanced down at my outfit and sighed. I’d dressed up a little today, donning a loose sundress and a cardigan, but my hair was still pulled back in a plain ponytail. I had put on a little make-up, but foundation was about all I could manage without poking myself in the eye. I hadn’t cared much about my appearance before I met Peter, but when women like her were making eyes at him, I felt downright frumpy.
Peter obligingly shook her hand and settled back in his chair. Tom had already ordered a coffee for me- my favorite cinnamon mocha- and an employee came to place it on the table in front of me.
“Peter do you want anything?” I asked out of habit. I knew he wouldn’t eat, but I was raised with good manners. He just shook his head, and the coffee house guy moved away.
Tom and I made idle chitchat for some time. Peter pitched in occasionally, as if he had known Tom forever. I was pleased that he was so relaxed and comfortable in this company. Most people wouldn’t fit in with such ease. My coffee had just cooled down enough to take a cautious sip when Yolanda leaned across the table and patted Peter’s hand familiarly.
“What company do you work for?” She asked curiously. My blood pressure rose a few points.
Peter gave her a bland smile. “I work at the Dawson firm,” he said politely. I almost laughed at his answer. Yolanda looked puzzled, no doubt trying to place the name among the direct care agencies in the area.
“He’s not my aide,” I said tightly. “He’s my friend.” Sometimes I had trouble controlling my emotions, thanks to my damaged frontal lobe. Anger was a hard one. I drummed my fingers on the table, fighting the sudden swell of agitation. Tom laughed uproariously, and the guy at the table next to us scooted his chair a little further away.
Peter looked from me to Yolanda in surprise. Then he reached over and took my hand. I was startled out of my anger as he linked his fingers in mine and placed our hands on his knee. Tom guffawed, a high-pitched wheezing sort of laugh that made the corner of my mouth turn up in a half-smile.
“He’s her boyfriend,” he said to Yolanda, as if she were an idiot.
I blushed and Peter gave my hand a light squeeze. He had big hands, and his skin was smooth and cool like marble. Tom was on a roll now, laughing like a bellows. I grimaced. It really wasn’t that funny.
He beamed at Peter. “You’re lucky. She has nice tits!”
Someone nearby choked off a laugh. Tom suffered from what we in the world of brain injury call disinhibition. Basically, his brain no longer acted as a filter between what he thought and what he said.
Peter didn’t miss a beat. “She is a very beautiful woman.” He sent those sharp green eyes my way and my stomach did a little flip-flop. I avoided his eyes and took a big gulp of my mocha, hiding behind the cup.
Yolanda had recovered by this time, and she gave us a big smile. “Well good