Stewart's Story by Ruth Madison Page B

strange."
    "Be nice, Leah. I care about Elizabeth a lot."
    "Whatever." Leah leaned back and her eyes slowly looked him up and down. “Is your foot supposed to do that?”
    “Huh?” Stewart looked down to see his foot shaking. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Don't worry about that.” He grabbed his knee and pulled the leg further in. “It'll stop in a minute.”
    “That's some weird shit,” Leah said, throwing back her drink.
    “I guess. Does it bother you?”
    “Yeah, I'll be honest. It's hard to see you like this. I remember you in such a different way, you know?”
    “You've changed too,” Stewart said with a smile.
    “Have not.” Leah laughed, smacking his shoulder. “Hey, I didn't hurt you, did I?”
    “Are you kidding? These shoulders are as solid as granite,” Stewart said, lifting the sleeve of his t-shirt.
    Leah touched his neck and slid her hand down to his shoulders. “Oh my God, they are like one enormous brick wall.” Her hand slid farther down his back to the top of the wheelchair.
    “Hey, hey, “Stewart said, “Let's keep those hands where I can see them.”
    “Your foot stopped.”
    Stewart looked down. “Oh yeah.”
    “What does that mean? Like does that mean you could get better?”
    “No.”
    “Sorry, I shouldn't have said.”
    “You can ask me whatever you want, Leah, we're friends. Really, whatever you want to know, just ask.”
    Leah smiled and put her bare foot against his crotch. “Does it still work?”
    “Woah,” Stewart said, rolling back. Her foot fell to the floor in front of her, an anklet jingling. She smiled at him.
    “I really don’t want to do this with you.”
    “Do what?” She leaned forward and smiled again, twirling a piece of her ocean-soaked hair in front of her.
    Jeff came over with baskets of burgers and drinks and put them down. “So,” Jeff said, “I was thinking that tomorrow we should catch the surf together, like old times.”
    “I can’t,” Stewart said, “I’m starting student teaching in the morning.”
    “Oh right,” Jeff said.
    "Saturday, though," Stewart said. "We can go Saturday morning."
    Leah hadn’t taken her eyes off Stewart and he was purposely not looking back at her. She wasn’t really interested in him, this was all a game. A game she was good at and always had been. All she wanted to do was win, not actually follow through on any flirting. But Stewart liked to win too.
    He decided to make her as uncomfortable as he possibly could. He pushed his hands against the seat of his wheelchair, shifting his body and thought score one for me when Leah looked away and fidgeted with her hair.
    “If we get out early enough to beat the tourists,” Jeff said.
    “Yeah, maybe,” Stewart said, looking at Leah. “But you know it takes me a while to get ready in the mornings these days.”
    She met his eye and he couldn’t read her expression. She certainly didn’t look disgusted or put off.
    “What about Lee?” Stewart said. “It’s not the old gang without your brother.”
    “He probably won’t make it,” Leah said.
    “He hasn’t been able to look at me since I came back in a wheelchair,” Stewart said, slapping his lap for emphasis.
    “Oh, so he’s an ass,” Leah said, “What else is new?”
    Stewart started laughing. He couldn't keep up the pretense. “Tell him I want to talk to him.”
    “He's scared to death of you.”
    “I know. And it's ridiculous.”
    Jeff went back to the bar to serve more customers.
    “Are you staying at a hotel?” Leah asked.
    Stewart shook his head. “I’ll crash on Jeff’s couch until I find a place.”
    “Isn’t a hotel easier for you? With, you know, the wheelchair and all?”
    “No. Most hotels are not nearly as accessible as they think they are. A lot easier to get Jeff to help me out than try to deal with them.”
    While they ate, Leah's eyes wandered around the place. Stewart guessed she was looking for a new victim to charm.
    “I'm going to head back to Jeff's, I have to get