Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber

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style="font-size:15px;">      The instant she did, he turned to glare at her. “This space is reserved for wheelchair seating.”

      “Yes, I know,” she said as she crossed her legs. She started to eat her popcorn as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Feeling both silly and daring, she tossed a kernel in the air and caught it in her mouth. Proud of herself, she grinned triumphantly at Mark.

      Clearly he wasn’t impressed with her dexterity. “Would you kindly move?”

      His voice was even less friendly than it had been the last time.

      “I have every right to sit here should I choose to do so,” she returned formally. She held out her bag of popcorn. “Here,” she said.

      He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

      “I’m offering you some of my popcorn.”

      “What makes you think I want your popcorn?”

      “You’re cranky. My boys get cranky when they’re hungry, so I figured that might be your problem.”

      He looked pointedly away.

      “If you’re not interested, the proper response is no, thank you.”

      He ignored that, and Barbie munched her popcorn, swaying her leg back and forth.

      “Stop that.”

      “What?”

      “Swinging your leg like a pendulum.”

      She crossed the opposite leg and swung it, instead.

      Mark groaned.

      The theater darkened, and the previews appeared on the screen. Barbie finished the small bag of popcorn. Her hands were greasy, but in her rush to get into the theater she’d forgotten to pick up a napkin. She’d also forgotten to replace the tissues she kept in her purse. She stood up to go back to the lobby. Rather than march all the way down the row, she leaned over to nudge Mark.

      “Excuse me.”

      “You’re leaving?” He actually seemed pleased.

      “No, I need a napkin. Can I get you anything while I’m up?”

      “No,” he muttered.

      She sighed audibly. “Are you always this rude or is it just me you don’t like?”

      “It’s you.”

      She refused to feel insulted; instead she interpreted his response as an admission that he was aware of her. Aware and interested.

      “You act as if that pleases you,” he said, sounding surprised.

      “Well, it doesn’t hurt my feelings if that was your intent. Now, can I get by? Please?”

      With exaggerated effort, he rolled back his wheelchair, allowing her to exit the row.

      Barbie pushed the sleeve of her soft cashmere sweater up her arm and hung her purse over her shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she told him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

      “Don’t hurry on my account.”

      “I won’t.”

      When she entered the lobby again, she saw that Tessa was working behind the concession stand. The girl looked curiously in her direction and Barbie nodded. She grabbed some napkins to wipe her hands, then walked over to wait her turn. She made an impulsive purchase, smiling as she did.

      “How’s it going?” Tessa asked, handing her the change.

      “He wants me to leave.”

      Tessa seemed worried. “You’re not going to, are you?”

      Barbie shook her head. “Not on your life.”

      Tessa nearly rubbed her hands together with glee. “This is so cool.”

      “What is?”

      The teenager shrugged. “Well, you know. You and my uncle Mark. He needs someone in his life. He doesn’t think so, but… well, it’d just be so cool if that someone was you.”

      “Don’t get your hopes up, Tessa.” Barbie felt obliged to warn her. “I’d better get back. The movie’s about to start.”

      “Don’t let him give you any crap,” the girl advised. “Oops, I mean attitude.”

      Barbie grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.

      Attitude was the right word, she mused as she made her way into the theater. It wasn’t hard to figure out that his surliness was an attempt to protect himself from pain and rejection. If there was one thing she knew about, it was dealing with the insecurities of the adolescent male. And if she had her guess, he’d reverted to that kind of negative behavior after his accident. Beneath all the hostility, he was as lonely and lost as she was.

      The film was just beginning as she reached their row. She stood in the aisle, waiting for him to roll his chair back.

      “Excuse me,” she said when he pretended not to notice. “I’d like to sit down.”

      “Must you?” he asked sarcastically.

      “Yes, I must.” Taking the initiative, she raised her leg and attempted to climb over his lap. He got the message fast enough when she presented him with an excellent view of her rear. He shot back with enough force to bolt into the empty space two rows back.

      Barbie reclaimed her seat, then tossed him a chocolate bar. “Oh, here,” she said. “I thought this might sweeten your disposition.”

      He tossed it back. “My disposition is as good as it gets. Chocolate isn’t going to change it.”

      “Fine. I’ll eat it then.”

      From that point on, she ignored him and he ignored her.

      The movie, another romantic comedy, was delightful and Barbie quickly got involved in the plot. She and Mark didn’t exchange a word until the credits were rolling and the lights came back on.

      “That was really good,” she said to no one in particular.

      “It was sappy,” Mark muttered.

      “Naturally you’d say that,” she protested. “Don’t you believe in the power of love?”

      “No.”

      So why had he chosen this movie? “Well, I happen to believe in it,” she told him.

      “Good for you.” He wheeled back and started out of the theater, with Barbie keeping pace five steps behind him. Tessa, still at the concession stand, glanced at her eagerly. She gave the teenager another thumbs-up, and the girl returned a huge grin.

      Just outside

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