Page 59 of Under Water

“You can take my arm or shoulder if you want,” I offer.

“You’ve done this before?”

“I’ve been in this job a long time. I’ve met with a lot of people,” I admit. “You delete the horrific stuff, like when drunk guys puke all over you, and you retain the helpful stuff, like basic ASL and how not to be condescending to a person using a wheelchair.”

Matty laughs harder. “I like you.”

“I’m glad. There’s a club of people who do, but it’s very small.”

His hand finds the back of my elbow, and his fingers dig in as I turn and start down the corridor. He keeps his cane close to his body, but I can hear the soft slide of the tip against the floor as we head toward the entry doors.

“So, if you visit again,” I tell him, swiping my badge, “there’s always someone in one of the offices here. The spot you passed on the way in is the reception desk. The doorway that almost killed you”—he snorts—“is the fire marshal’s office. And the office across from that is mine. We can swipe you in here.” The door clicks open, and he follows me in. “Fire station is to the right, and EMTs to the left.”

“I know it’s probably a simple layout, but it feels like a maze,” he says quietly as we head to the glass door with the big gold letters.

“I get that. New place and all. Are you, ah—have you always—” I stop myself. What I want to ask is none of my business.

Matty squeezes my arm. “Go ahead.”

“No, no. I’m just being nosy.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “I went blind a couple years ago. I guess in a relative sense, it’s pretty new. I got six weeks of how-to-be-blind training at this one school in Washington, and then I was just kind of thrown out into the world.”

“Shit.” I swipe my badge, and the door lock clicks. “That sucks.”

He snorts. “Yeah. And to answer the other question I get all the time, I can see a bit out of my left eye. It’s like looking through a dark, foggy window.”

I wasn’t going to ask that, but a piece of me had been curious. “Well, I don’t have any disabilities myself, but I do have a raging case of anxiety and probably PTSD from a bad ex. I’m tall and good-looking, but my personality sucks, so I don’t date a lot. And I’m a single dad.”

He jolts. “Oh. Was the bad ex your kid’s mom, or…?”

“No, thank god. My best friend and I tried to be together even though I knew I was gay. She got pregnant, and I wanted to keep the baby, so I got sole custody, and she moved overseas. We’re still friends. The ex is someone who came after and I can’t seem to get rid of.”

“That’s…a lot,” Matty says.

“Yep. I also overshare,” I tell him. My cheeks are hot as I hold the door. “Sorry. Go ahead and walk through here. I see Logan through the window. He’s running in to meet you.”

Matty passes through the open doorway but then turns to face me. “You seem cool. If you ever want to hang out, I’m new in town and socially awkward, so…”

The door bursts open, and Logan comes in, skidding to a halt beside Matty. “Hey, bud! You found the place.”

Matty looks a little irritated. “I told you I’d be fine.”

“I offered to give him a tour,” I say. “How did you make such cool friends, Rook?”

Matty bursts into laughter. “Oh my god, you get to be the rookie now?”

I look at Logan for some kind of explanation, and he groans and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Matty used to play pro hockey, and I met him during his rookie season. He just retired.”

“Oh my god.” I study him. I’m not the most avid hockey player, but I recognize some of the big ones sometimes. “For Boston?”

Matty turns to me again. “Yeah. I was in the PPHL. The para hockey league,” he clarifies when my silence speaks volumes. “Blind team. The Legends.”

“Oh, so you didn’t retire because of what happened?”

He huffs. “No. It was an attempt to cope with all my trauma by being able to get into violent hockey fights. It didn’t help.”

I grin. “I like you.”