Thelma stood in the line for concessions at Lake Smith. Her part of the long line was in the hot sun and so were the ten people ahead of her. She scanned ahead looking at the lucky people that had made it into the shade of the large oak tree by the building. It was then she first noticed the man in the spandex swimsuit. Actually, the missing left leg caught her attention, just after the crutches his armpits were resting on.
Without thinking what she was doing, her hand pressed over the ribbed, white wife-beater undershirt and it slowly made its way towards the denim cut-off shorts with ragged and frayed hems. As it touched the waistband, the woman behind her cleared her throat and mumbled something about how the line had moved. Thelma snapped back to the present and took five steps forward while still watching the man on crutches. The line snaked around and she still had a good view, but that would change soon when she reached the bend in the line.
"Dad," a woman with one arm called while walking towards the man. Probably in college Thelma thought. "Mom wants a Coke." Now the woman stood by the man and looked back to the large grassy area where people had spread towels and blankets to rest when they weren't in the water. Thelma found herself looking too. An attractive woman halfway to the water wearing a skimpy dark-blue bikini waved an arm that ended just above where the elbow used to be - at least there was no elbow. The other arm was completely gone - just a small mound at the shoulder.
Flustered, Thelma left the line and walked, almost stumbling, to her blanket. She settled and rummaged though her large canvas bag eventually pulling a paperback book out. With the book open in her lap, she searched the crowd. The man on crutches and the younger woman with one arm passed about fifty feet away. There was no interest in the book anymore.
The man poked a straw in the drink cup top and held it up for the older woman to drink. His wife, Thelma thought. "Lucky bitc...." She caught herself talking aloud and covered her mouth, her head quickly looking around to see if anyone was staring back at her. No one seemed to have heard. She brushed at her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and continued to watch. She also thought how unlucky in love she'd been and how she'd wished she could have a family, even just a husband. She thought of herself as nice looking, not beautiful, but just nice.
"She's my mother," a male voice close by said.
Thelma looked around and saw a single barefoot between crutch tips next to her blanket. She let her eyes look up along the leg, past the dark green swim trunks with nothing dangling from the left side, on to the toned, tanned, bare chest. "Huh?" she mumbled as she held her book up to shade her eyes.
He knelt down and lowered his crutches into a neat pile as he sat on the edge of the blanket. "She's my mother, the one without arms. I'm Jack." He held his hand out.
Without thought, she took it and gave it a slight shake. "I'm Thelma. Guess it is a little tacky to stare. I just, ah, haven't...."
"What, seen a family of amputees? Yeah, it is a little odd." He turned his head and looked at the family then back to Thelma. "Mom, Jean that is, and Paul, my father, have been that way for a long time. Amy, my sister, only for a few years, since she graduated from college."
"And you?"
"I'm a year older than Amy so I had my amputation a year before her."
"What? Is this a family right of passage?"
"You might say that." Jack smiled, leaned back slightly on one hand. "For us it seems ... normal."
"Oh my," she exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart.
"We come from...." He paused and looked into her blue eyes trying to decide how old she was. He suspected she was nearly his age, late twenties, slightly older but not much. He let his imagination run wild wondering what she would look like without clothes, what she would taste like as he kissed her between the thighs.
"What?" she asked.
"Oh, sorry. I was just lost in thought."
"So it seemed." She reclined on one elbow. The armhole of her undershirt exposed more of her bare breast. "Do you come here often?"
"We're visiting some relatives." He paused and let the silence drift around them. "Such a lovely woman." He continued to look at her.
"That's crazy talk." She moved her hand though the air. "There're a million better looking women out there."
He held a finger to his lips as if to quiet her. "And not a single one of them looked at Paul the way you did ... he's married, I'm not."
Her eyes again scanned his body. A bulge in the swim trunks was more obvious than before. His fingers played with the end of the thigh inside the pants leg.
She lay down and propped her head on her hand. "I guess you caught me. Huh?" She adjusted her head slightly on her hand and giggled.
"You are single ... right?" He sat up and pulled the single foot towards his crotch leaving one hand on the ankle. His tan and toned chest swelled slightly. "Why?"
She sat up facing him and crossed her legs like a loosely folded pretzel. "Just haven't found the right guy." She leaned back on both hands for a moment then sat back up.
His hand cupped the side of her face and they could feel each other's breath as their lips neared. A shadow moved across the blanket. "Jack, we need to be there soon." The shadow moved away and his lips pecked at hers.
"Can we have dinner sometime?" She asked. "If you don't want to, or can't, I'll try to understand."
"I'd love to."
Thelma fished a scrap of paper from the canvas bag and wrote her phone number. "Here. Call me." He assured her he would then she watched him crutch away.
-
Thelma had been restless waiting in line and that was because of the man with one leg ahead of her. Now after being so close to Jack, the man's son, she was totally beside herself. Her legs felt like rubber as she attempted to stand. She fell back on her butt, and then tried again. As she stood and draped the strap of the canvas bag over one shoulder, she scanned the crowd. The family was gone. She sighed and made her way to the parking lot.
During the drive home, her thoughts were filled with Jack and several times she found herself almost running into the back of a car stopped at an intersection. "Shit," she would shout each time as she braced for the impact that did not come.
The canvas bag fell to the floor by the washer as she passed on the way to her desk. The laptop was on - it always was - and she logged in. The journal program started and she click on today's entry.
'Saw a family of amputees today at the lake,' she typed. 'The father was missing much of the left leg and it took all of my being to keep from making a fool of myself while watching him. He wore a spandex swimsuit that hid none of his marvelous stump. Met his son also missing a leg.'
She leaned back and stared at the screen. Her left hand slithered under the undershirt. Fingers fiddled with a nipple as she replayed mental images of the man. "A whole family," she mussed aloud. "Why couldn't that have been my family?" The hand clutched the whole breast, and pulled and kneaded it. "Why?"
-
Paul put the blanket and towels in the trunk then slammed the trunk lid shut. Amy buckled Jean's seatbelt and closed the door then settled in the backseat. Jack crutched towards the car.
"Hey son," Paul said.
Jack settled in the backseat next to Amy and shoved his crutches across the floor.
"Who was the babe?" Amy asked. "She was in line and watching Dad, almost with a laser-like stare."
"Yeah, I noticed. Thelma." He stroked his chin as he thought about her.
"Thelma?" Amy mused in mild humor. "I haven't heard that name for a long time."
"She's not bad looking. She gave me her phone number ... might call her for a date."
Jean turned and looked toward Jack, her armless shoulder towards him. "We're not going to be here very long."
"And I bet she'd be like the others, unwilling to be like us." Amy waved her short arm stump to emphasize what she had meant.
