medical treatment, how he was healing and gaining his strength back.
When he finished, their food arrived and they began to eat. “Now, tell me about you. I know you were a dancer, but you never gave me details.”
After taking a bite of the eggs, she got a faraway look in her eyes. “I danced with the American Ballet in New York.”
Though he wasn’t into cultural stuff, his daughters were, and Kara’s dream was to join a New York company when she grew up. “What’s your last name?”
“Devlin. I’m Dana Devlin.”
“I’ll bet my daughter knows of you. I’ll ask her. Were you a solo dancer, a headliner?”
“Yes.” As they ate, she described her career, her success, which was stellar, and told him about her favorite performances. Throughout the recitation, she smiled at the memories. But when they finished their meal, the joy drained from her face. Setting down her fork, she glanced off to the side and then back at him. “I have something to tell you Joey, which might affect whether or not you want to see me again.”
“I can’t imagine what could change my mind. I’m dying to have some real dates with you.”
“No, you probably can’t imagine what I have to say because I’ve kept information from you when we emailed.”
“We haven’t shared everything about our lives, Dana. There’s a lot I haven’t told you, too.” Mainly about his father. “It’s okay. It’ll be fun getting to know each other better in person.”
“This won’t be fun, but here goes. I said I was famous, but only till I was twenty-eight.”
“That’s pretty young to quit dancing.” He knew from Kara.
“You’re right. Prima ballerinas usually perform into their thirties.”
“What happened?”
“I had an accident.”
Now that she’d never mentioned online. And her secrecy was confusing because he’d told her about his football injury derailing his dreams, yet she’d never even hinted that something similar had happened to her. Suddenly Joe got a bad feeling, a hunch, like the ones he often had on duty as a cop. Some of his enthusiasm about meeting Dana dwindled. Whatever she was going to tell him, it definitely wasn’t good.
o0o
Dana’s heart beat so fast, she could barely get the words out. She knew, as she and Joe talked more and more online, that Joe’s physicality, his athletic prowess, might cause him to reject her. As a matter of fact, he’d emphasized his interest in sports and fitness in his profile, and that was one of the reasons she’d refused to meet him before now. However, he was also sensitive, kind and tried to do what was right, so she’d risked pursuing him.
Pointing to the wall adjacent to them, she said, “That wheelchair over there?” He tracked her gaze. “It’s mine, Joe. I’ve been confined to it for twelve years.”
His jaw dropped. His eyes widened. First, they showed shock, then a deep, deep sadness. But there was no pity in them, thank God. Or worse, revulsion—a not uncommon response of able-bodied people.
He was speechless for a few moments. Finally, he reached out and covered her hand with his. “I’m so sorry, Dana.”
His immediate response quelled some of the anxiety inside her. “I knew you would be. I didn’t tell you before because I felt as if I should do this in person.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I have a million questions.”
“You probably want to know how my injury happened.”
“For starters.” She liked that he didn’t look away. As incredible as it had seemed to her at first, some people couldn’t make eye contact with those in a wheelchair. To the disabled, their reaction was dismissive and hurtful, just like their use of the term invalid, in-valid.
“I’d just finished the most successful performance of my career.” Talking about the milestone now made her happy, as it had with Ruth a few nights ago. There’d been a time she’d been unable to even think about her career without crying. She’d made progress in that