Never a Hero

years, but I was starting to learn one of my greatest life lessons: high school wasn’t a reflection of real life. People were generally good. People like Nick, and like June. Like their friends from the pawn shop, El and Paul and Seth and Michael and Nathan.
    Yes, Nathan, who probably had no idea how much he’d helped me. It suddenly seemed important that I tell him.
    “Wow,” he said when he answered the phone that afternoon. “Will wonders never cease? I’m getting a second call from the mysterious one-armed man?”
    “Not much mystery here, I assure you.”
    “Honey, don’t sell yourself short. You need to learn to work what you’ve got.”
    I laughed. “Well, in the meantime, you interested in meeting for coffee again?”
    “I’d love to.”
    It was cooler and windier than the time before, and the coffee shop was warm and cozy, so we opted to stay inside. We settled on a couch in front of the gas fireplace.
    “How’s the boyfriend?” he asked as we shed our coats.
    “He’s not my boyfriend.”
    “I’ve heard that before, but then you went home with him.”
    I laughed. He was teasing, and it felt good. I loved the way he could so quickly put me at ease. “Thanks for meeting me again.”
    “I’m glad you called, even if it isn’t to take me up on that offer of a booty call.” He leaned a bit closer, more playful than flirtatious. “That isn’t why you called, is it?”
    “No.”
    “Damn.” But it was said with mock disappointment.
    “I wanted to thank you, actually.”
    “Thank me?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. “For what?”
    “For being my friend that day, even though you barely knew me.”
    He waved his hand at me. “It was nothing.”
    “No. It wasn’t.” I hated that I was beginning to blush, but I made myself say the rest. “It meant a lot to me. It helped. So, thank you.”
    All of his playfulness fell away in an instant. He reached out and took my hand. Not flirting. Not making a pass. Just acknowledging me. “I was happy to do it.”
    We stayed there another hour, chatting about work and the weather and my upcoming recital. Two months ago, I’d been alone. Now, I had friends. More than one, even. It was hard to believe I’d come so far.

    Nick’s parents came for Thanksgiving. Despite my newfound confidence, I was nervous about meeting them. “What did you tell them about me?” I asked Nick on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving as we waited for them to arrive.
    He laughed. “Not a damn thing, but you can bet June filled them in.”
    As it turned out, my fears were ungrounded. His parents were as delightful as him and June. Their father had spent his life working construction, and it showed. He was big and burly, and seemed to love football more than life itself. He doted on June. Their mother, Truvy, was everything mine wasn’t—happy, loving, and supportive. I had worried that she would be suspicious or curious about my relationship with Nick, but if she wondered, she never let on. She welcomed me into the family like some kind of long-lost nephew.
    We spent Wednesday playing board games, and that night we all went out for dinner. Nick took us to the Greek restaurant where we’d had our disastrous first date. It was still crowded, but it felt far less claustrophobic than before. Maybe it was because June was there, spinning some ridiculous tale of how we’d lost our arms while saving a runaway baby carriage from a speeding train. Maybe it was Nick, laughing at his sister’s antics. Or maybe it was only because I finally realized that nobody was there to judge me. I barely stuttered as I ordered dinner, and the only thing I broke all night was the plate they gave me for that exact purpose.
    It felt like victory.
    The next day, Nick helped his mother cook Thanksgiving dinner while June and her dad watched football on TV. Betty and Bert sprawled next to them on the couch. Bonny stayed in the kitchen, ready to pounce on any scrap of food that hit the floor. I wandered between both rooms, not quite knowing my place, but feeling comfortable nonetheless. My home had never been so peaceful, or so filled with the simple joy of togetherness. I felt like I’d fallen through the rabbit hole and landed in a Norman Rockwell painting. I hoped I never had to leave it.
    I was relieved to find that Thanksgiving was one of Nick’s splurge days with regard to food. He seemed happy to let his mom take the lead in the kitchen. He didn’t mention sodium or transfats