Page 3 of I Still Love You (Citation Needed)

I lay in bed, thinking about Mason and the first time we met. Lacock State wasn’t the worst university to pick for my PhD. As much as the small city failed to be accessible, the university was affordable, there were plenty of opportunities to work on campus, I was free to pursue my research, and it was growing in prominence. I wasn’t worried about the quality of the program since I was getting my degree to say I had it. Sure, sometimes it was difficult to navigate the broken and raised sidewalks. Some buildings didn’t seem to be accessible at all, and some made me enter through the loading dock or use a freight elevator. I was happy that the bookstore was accessible with aisles wide enough for my chair to navigate while I hunted for my books.

Sure, I could have ordered my books online, but the prices didn’t seem much different in the bookstore. I wanted to be able to take them back to my apartment and start reading. Graduate school didn’t require many books, but I took pride in being prepared. It always made my life easier to do the work before I entered any room.

At the start of the semester, the campus bookstore was full of undergraduate students and families roaming around. They bounced between the aisles of books, school supplies, and school paraphernalia. I was growing frustrated as I tried to make my way around abandoned piles of books and baskets of stuff as people walked off to go chat with someone. Of the five books I needed, three had been within my reach. Most of the bookshelves were freestanding and a little more than chest height for the average person. I barely reached the top shelf to get those books. The last two books were out of reach on shelves that lined the wall and went up to the ceiling. I could see the thick, light blue binding of the book I needed, but I couldn’t reach it. I went around, hoping to find an employee who could help, but everyone was busy.

A man was standing at the bookshelf when I returned, my body tight and rigid in frustration and anger. He looked at me and smiled. His thick eyebrows were the first thing I noticed about him. They were why I noticed the sparkle in his eyes. He was thin but his arms were lined with veins, like he played guitar. I would later learn that he had been in a band for a while.

“Am I in your way?” he asked and picked up a messenger bag that was resting against his leg.

I forced a smile onto my face. It wasn’t hard since my locked jaw made it look like I was always smiling. I cracked my neck and took a breath. “Thank you, but I’m trying to reach a book up there.” I pointed to the light blue book out of reach.

Mason put a finger on one of three copies there. “This one?”

I nodded, and he pulled it down, his shirt lifting to reveal his stomach and the band of his underwear. “I’m getting my PhD in sociology too,” he said as he handed it to me. “I was grabbing my own copy of the same book.”

Heat flared through my body, and I wanted to fan myself with one of the books but resisted the urge. I was sure my face was flush with this unexpected wave of desire. It had been a while since I had met anyone I desired so quickly. My annoyance was forgotten, and I wondered if I could find a way to spend more time with him.

He quickly grabbed another copy and looked in my lap, where I had the other three books. “Can you help me find the other books since you have them already?”

“I have one more to find too,” I told him, a real smile spreading across my face. I was ready to pump my fist at how easy that had been.

“Perfect because this is the first one I’ve found,” he said and followed me as I wheeled away.

I showed him where the other books could be found. Those were easy for him to reach without effort, so I didn’t catch another hint of skin. When we got to the final book, the one we were both missing, I looked up to the red bound books on the very top shelf of another bookshelf against a wall.

Mason looked around. It was too high for anyone to reach, but there was no stool in sight. He let out a sigh and jumped as he reached for a copy. My breath caught in my throat as his shirt lifted and revealed more of his stomach than before. This time, my desire was a punch in the gut. Later, he would share that I had a dopey look on my face when he handed me the first copy he grabbed. I watched as he jumped to grab a second copy for himself. I remember feeling like I was in a daze.

“I hope there’s nothing else on the top shelf,” he said as we went to the register. “I need a drink after that work out.”

I shrugged, used to something I needed being out of reach. “I’d love to treat you to coffee to thank you.”

“I’m Mason, by the way,” he said with a wide smile and a nod.

Little did I know that I would wake up to that smile every day.

Chapter Three

Iwas up early the next morning after dreaming of Mason for the first time in years. Part of me expected to find him sleeping next to me, but that wasn’t possible. Unable to go back to sleep, I opened my laptop and got work done. Emails had been gathering through the night. I knew it would be like this since this was an international organization primarily run by volunteers around the world. My staff wasn’t even based in the United States, and I wouldn’t get to meet most of them in person until later that summer at WorldWikiMania in London. This weekend I would get to chat with the US based staff members. My goal was to allow those staff members some one-on-one time, talk with the volunteers present for the conference, and remind everyone that I was one of their own.

I had started editing EncycloWiki after my accident that had put me in my chair. I had nothing but time as I healed and learned to get around the world. Cleaning up entries, finding sources for information, and helping other editors had given me a community when I needed to figure out who I was going to be in the future. It was made clear that I wouldn’t walk again, no matter how much physical therapy I did. The people I met while editing had primarily been supportive and encouraging. I knew that wasn’t the case for everyone, which was why I had gotten as involved as I could. I learned to be proud of myself, no matter what it looked like to the rest of the world. I decided to fight for those ignored by the world. The EncycloWiki community had shaped the woman I am today and the work I do in the world.

“Do you want to go over together?” Lizbeth said when she met me after breakfast.

She looked refreshed, and I knew she had stayed with her grandparents a few towns over. We took my van to Woodhouse Mills, where the first event was being held. It wouldn’t start for a few more hours, but some of the foundation’s staff had asked to have early meetings with me so they could enjoy the weekend. I was happy to allow this so they could enjoy the conference without being anxious about their future under a new executive director. Not that they had anything to be anxious about. I wasn’t planning on firing anyone or making changes to people’s jobs.

The edit-a-thon, the event that launched the conference every year, had been planned to give conference participants a chance to get to know the city and each other as they worked on a shared passion - making EncycloWiki better. The Woodhouse Mills had been selected as the main place for people to be at, but there were shuttles around the city so people could get tours of museums and historical locations. If it had been any other city, I would have gone on these tours, but I had tried years ago and found it inaccessible for me to do many of them. Even if I felt the desire to explore the updated version of Lacock, I had work to do as the new executive director.

I had never been to the Woodhouse Mills before. Until recently, it had been something the city had been considering tearing down. Most of the old mills had been eyesores and places the unhoused populations used to keep warm. Now things had changed. As we drove, it felt like the road to the Woodhouse Mills was a high priority. The top layer of concrete had been dug up for repaving and the sidewalks were almost all replaced. I was excited to see that the parking lot of the Mills was clear and safe. There were patches from filled potholes, but they had been carefully done to avoid breaks or bumps in the lot. I pulled my van into an open handicap spot. There was a small Smart Car in the spot next to me.

“That’s Mason’s car,” Lizbeth said. “We’re doing one last walk through with Carrie Woodhouse before we set up.”

My heart raced as my smile fell and resting-bitch-face settled on my face. Dreaming of Mason last night was leaving me a little unsettled, which I wasn’t expecting. I needed to get my head back in the game. I was here to intimidate him and Lois, not for them to do that to me. I was going to be here the entire weekend, so I needed to get used to being in the same space as him over and over. This was probably the only chance I had to show him how wrong he’d been to break up with me.

We rode up a clean but slow elevator. Once the doors opened, I could hear an excited woman chatting about how they planned to set up the space.

“I don’t think you ever met Carrie Woodhouse when you lived here,” Lizbeth said as we followed the voices.

I shook my head, trying to focus on my emotions. The family was well known locally, but I had never been much of a crafter. They had owned mills through the area where they built a major yarn company. Every crafter in my life knew Woodhouse Yarns. It had been my friend Emma who had told me how famous they were in the crafting world after publishing a few books with Carrie over the last year.