"No. I can think of many worse qualities to have than a bionic leg," she replies earnestly. "I just don't really know … I mean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"I've had a seven year old insist I strip in the middle of the mall so they can show their parents. All in a day's work."
"Oh, god!" She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand as she giggles. "Are you serious?"
"Very." I smile. "I consider it art attached to my body. I don't mind showing people any more than an artist does. In fact, I tend to be a little too open and scare folks."
She's laughing, a charming mix of embarrassment and amusement. Her laugh is as cute as she is. I study her features, probably a bit too long, and resist the urge to tuck the piece of hair floating around her face behind her ear the way she does.
"It does make it harder to get a date," I admit in a half-joke. "Showing off your bionic leg isn't the best way to pick someone up."
"If they flinch at it, you don't want them in your life anyway," she says pragmatically. "Everyone has baggage. If someone cares for you, the baggage doesn't matter. That's what I tell Todd anyway."
"You're tougher than you look," I observe, sensing once more there's depth to her well hidden behind a controlled façade. Despite this, I can tell she's a good person and has an equally golden heart.
She ducks her head, but not before I see the shadow that crosses her features.
I don't want her to be sad or down or to dwell on whatever is bothering her. I have a feeling she's in a similar situation as I am; whatever haunts her is ever present. For a few hours, I want her mind elsewhere.
"I forgot to show you the twelve foot turkey," I say. "It's made of chocolate."
She brightens at the mention.
We leave the bingo hall and return to the dining area. The turkey is cordoned off, and we stop in front of the rope.
"I thought you were joking," she says, trying not to smile. Her eyes go up and down the huge statue.
"When I saw the order form, I thought it was twelve inches. I had no idea it was feet," I tell her. "It took three days to move it from the bakery in New Jersey to Glory Glade. We had to hire a crane to get it in here, and I have no idea what we'll do with it when this is over."