by K. S. Adkins
Now, just shy of two years later, I watched as she patiently trained our new receptionist for her first job. I’ve also watched her become a mentor, a counselor and when her days are hard or she feels inspired, an artist.
Of course, I still do what I can to make my wife’s life easier. Whether it was moving her fork closer to her hand or putting the mail within her reach. Making sure her clothes matched after picking them out the night before. Sometimes, it was even sneaking up on her to hear her squeal. No matter what I did, for me, it was why I did it.
I did it for Time.
The woman who loves me so hard, so completely that she tells me every night, she would gladly lose her sight over and over again just to have me. The same one who smiles when she hears my voice. Reaches for me in her sleep and clings to me when the darkness overcomes her. The one who taught me to live a colorful life, to love and to forgive.
“I pushed because you needed it,” he says joining me. “Watching her, I can see now that I could have spared both of us a lot of grief by staying silent and letting her do the heavy lifting.” Knowing this was as close as I’d ever get to an apology I just smiled at my father’s admission. “When you love someone, you want the world for them, son. You want the world for her like I wanted the world for you. There’s a strength about Time your mother never had. Carolyn would have loved her like I do. I guess it’s true then…” he trails off.
“What’s true?”
“That Time heals all,” then he looks away before finishing with, “She brought my son back to me…”
“Dad…”
“Dad,” he repeats. “I like that, knock off the father stuff it makes me sound old.”
“Because you are old,” I remind him.
“A son and a daughter,” he says never taking his eyes from her spot at the desk. “I’m retired and I’m bored, since you refuse to give me anything useful to do I hired myself.” When I turned giving him a disbelieving look he ignored me and kept talking. “You two can’t keep turning these invitations down, you’re taking your act on the road. Here’s your itinerary, you’re welcome.”
“Dad…”
“She has a strong voice, it needs to be heard. With your help, Time can change the lives of the visually impaired not just here but everywhere. Jesus, Drummond, this is me telling you to go and live your dream. I’m not going to be around forever so take the gig before I kick it.”
“She’s right,” I tell him slapping him on the shoulder. “You are an asshole.”
“Yeah well, she likes me better than you.”
“Are you ever going to tell her about the stunt you pulled?”
“Are you ever going to tell her that you still follow her every time she leaves the house?”
“Nope,” I laugh.
“Well there you go.”
“Are we still on schedule for her surprise?”
“Tomorrow night,” he says with a grin.
When Time called for me through the ear bud we share, I parted from my dad never hearing him say he was proud of me. Which I suppose matters little since I already knew.
I knew because through Time’s eyes, I saw it.
This evening’s session was a huge success. Since my first class, the attendance nearly doubled and we’ve added an extra slot so no one would be left out. Today’s topic was, I may be blind but at least I’m not boring.
My father-in-law doesn’t find my play on his words funny, although I find it hilarious and so does Drum.
Drum, who by the way, made it clear I was to wait inside the conference center when my class was finished. Not that I minded the wait, it’s just that Bella and I were both starving.
After my last student left, I sat on the desk impatiently tapping my foot. Knowing I had a Snickers in the drawer, it took all my will power not to make a grab for it. I loved Snickers to a fault. When the door opened I heard two sets of footsteps and should have known they’d be together. Drum and his dad were inseparable. They bickered like old women, but they both loved it and so did I.
“I smell food!” I announce happily.
“Really, Drum, your wife doesn’t know the meaning of being seen and not heard.”
“Give me some credit,” I counter. “I know the meaning; I’m just too blind to follow.”
“Ba dum dum!” he says with a laugh.
“I’m feeding Bella,” Drum says taking her from me. “I’m feeding the other dog,” says my dad leading me to a seat.
“If you weren’t old, I’d have you neutered,” I threaten by kissing his cheek.
After getting settled, Drum comes back and takes my hand asking me, “What do you think about travel?”
“Yes! We’re shipping your dad off! Which home are we sticking him in?”
“Now who’s the asshole?” he says hitting me with what I assume was a pen.
“You mentioned travel, okay, so alone or with you?”
“With me,” he confirms.
“Are we going on an adventure?”
“Of course,” he says kissing the top of my hand. “After we speak at some engagements we’ve been invited to, that is.”
“I’m in,” I tell him reaching for his face. Tracing it, I sigh when he leans into my touch like always. “Wait, where’s our first stop?”
“Seattle,” he confirms.
“What kind of adventure is there in Seattle?” Honestly, for the life of me I couldn’t come up with one.
“Why do you care?” Dad chimes in helpful as ever. “It’s not like you can see it. He could take you to the park and say you were at the zoo and you wouldn’t know the difference.”
“I smell something,” sniffing the air for effect. Turning toward his voice I confirm it. “Who ordered asshole?”
“You have to love her mouth,” he says proudly.
“Oh he does,” I state proudly as well.
“Dad,” Drum groans. Can I just say Drum calling him Dad is adorable? “Don’t you have a date?”
“The nurse,” he says moving toward the door. “Hey, Time?” he says getting my attention. “Do you know what’s great about menopause?”
Such an asshole. “No risk of pregnancy, Dad.”
“I was going to say you don’t have to pull out.”
When the door closes behind him, Drum leans in to nuzzle my neck. Bella had finished her meal and took her place at my feet. “What do you think?” he asks. “Are you up for it?”
“Absolutely,” I confirm kissing him sound on the lips.
“Okay, now that’s out of the way. What do you think of this?”
Slowly I felt the atmosphere change. The light on my face had begun to fade and soft echoes of birds, waves lapping and the sound of the ocean breeze filled my ears. My eyes darted to locate the sound out of habit, but Drum’s voice brought me back to him. “It’s our first pitch,” he says with his face directly in front of mine.
“Pitch?”
“Explain to me why you painted your room and bought the sound machine,” he asks softly.
“I missed the night. I missed the sounds of it, the connection to it. Without it, I felt isolated. When I lost my night vision I lost a part of myself. I associate sound with specific memories just as I would with my sight. The machine gave that back to me.”
“Perfect,” he says pulling me on to his lap. “I reached out to the company who designed your machine. They want to partner with us, with you, to create machines specific to the memories of other’s needs. That’s what’s in Seattle.”
“When do we leave?” I rush out eager to make this possible for others.
That night Drum and I sat in our conference room, eating take out picnic style, talking about promoting the center. It felt like the sky was the limit. That even though I couldn’t see it, I could reach out and touch it.
Drum did that for me.
He made the impossible feel possible.
Seattle was a success.
In fact, the last four trips have all been successful.
> As fulfilling as the events were, nothing compared to the adventures we shared afterward. Sight or no sight, nothing got past Time. She appreciated all of it, from the space needle to the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame. I will say this, the next time she wants to hit cedar point she was taking my dad.
She talked me into closing my eyes, made me promise even. My daring wife convinced me the ride would be more thrilling that way. She was dead wrong, I was sick for two hours following but she was there taking care of me.
Between the center and travel, it was rare we had a day at home. This afternoon she left early to get a few things done and with my dad handling things, I had no reason to stay. I didn’t need an excuse to see my wife. Especially, if that meant getting her naked.
Coming in, I noticed the house was quiet. There was no music, no movement and no Bella sounding the alarm with two short barks. I checked the kitchen, her studio, and the office before heading upstairs. Rounding the top, I felt the panic take me over. She could be hurt, unable to call for help, did she need me? When she wasn’t upstairs I hauled ass back down and flew out the side door.
Two short barks greeted me from where I landed on the pavement. “Hi honey!” she says from the grass. Quickly looking around I realized what I had tripped over was a bag of potting soil and that Time was in the middle of making a beautiful mess. My eyes told me she was safe but my heart had yet to get the memo.
A year from now I’d laugh about this. With Time surrounded by dirt and plants while Bella looked at me like I was an idiot, a paranoid idiot. “Drum?”
“I’m here,” I tell her I crawling my way over to her. Without warning, I gently pull her to me by the back of her neck taking her mouth hard. Moaning into it, she gives me her weight and I kiss her harder. When the fever died down, I asked her the questions meant to calm her, but today I was in need of the calming, “What color are my eyes?”
“Espresso with flecks of jade,” breathlessly she gave me that smile before touching my face covering me in the dirt she loved. And so it went, I asked about my hair, she repeated her last name but before she could ask why, I started to undress her. The yard was private and the gate required a code to gain entry. Right here in broad daylight, with Time above me I took her through two orgasms before we came together.
Catching our breath in the grass, she rolls to her side and looks at me. It was these moments it was easy to forget she cannot see, because she sees so much. “I scared you,” she whispers.
“I panicked,” I admit playing with her hair. “I walked in and couldn’t find you.”
“I left you a note on the table.”
“Shit,” I groan. “I didn’t see it.”
“Using the blind girl’s excuses now?” she laughs. “Your dad would approve.”
“We made a mess,” looking around there was dirt everywhere.
“That mess was made long before you showed up,” she giggles.
“True,” I tease then kiss her shoulder. “Dad says twelve new clients in two days, Time. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
And in unison we both said, “We need a bigger building.”
The center was in a state of mass chaos. It was orientation day with more in attendance than expected. Not to make light of a delicate situation, it was literally the blind leading the blind. Eventually, we were able to get it together but this was one of those areas that needed work. Considering I was the one who planned it poorly, it was up to me to fix it.
Dad (the asshole) thought it was hysterical.
Drum, the poor guy, was close to stroking out.
I, on the other hand, knew I could do better and was already mentally taking notes. Some of our clients utilized our transport service while others were brought in by friends or family. That meant the drivers were scattered around the lobby until other arrangements could be made. Lost in thought, I missed my turn and bumped into someone and immediately righted myself. “Excuse me,” he says sincerely. “I was too busy staring at this photo that I blocked your path, I apologize.”
“No problem,” I smile, slowly turning to finish my trip to the office.
“Miss?” he asks stopping me.
“Yes?”
“Can you tell me who painted this picture?”
“I’m sorry, what picture is that?” I wasn’t following because to my knowledge we didn’t have pictures yet.
“Right,” he corrects when he realizes I can’t see the picture. “This picture well, all of them actually, are by the same artist, I think? At the bottom it only says, Time. Is that a name?”
Reaching forward I met the wall with my cane then followed it with my hands. Tracing the edges, running my fingers over the raised paint, I trail them down to the lower right and pause there. “Yes,” I tell him. “It’s a name, it’s my name.” I remember him pushing me to paint. Nagging me to update my studio. Coming over to help me clean it and constantly asking me, what about this one?
I told him to take them all that I didn’t care. I hadn’t cared because I could no longer see them and it pissed me off. Okay then crab ass, I’ll take all of them he’d said. And he had brought them here, for the world to see. He did this for me.
“---sale?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I asked if they were for sale?”
“These aren’t, but we’ll be opening an art studio where the students can showcase their work. I’m sure many will be for sale in the future.” At that point I left the conversation by excusing myself to find Drum. Hitting the earpiece he lets me know he’s in the cafeteria. “Why didn’t you tell me?” It wasn’t an accusation, more like a what the fuck?
“Tell you…”
“That dad brought my paintings here and hung them up.”
“Time,” he says sweetly. “You need to ask him about that.”
“Oh, I’ll square up with the asshole but I’m asking you first. You’re legally obligated to tell me shit like this.”
“He asked me not to.”
“I’m your wife,” I growl.
“He’s my dad,” he laughs. “He also loves you… go talk to him, Time. He’s in his office.”
“This isn’t over,” I toss out as I walk away (smiling). “Hey Drum?”
“Yeah?”
“Make room for an art center while you’re at it.”
“Anything else?”
“Not right now.”
“I love you, Time,” he calls out.
Damn straight he loves me.
To make my entrance as dramatic as possible I barge into his office and slam my cane down on his desk. “Oh Christ she’s got her period,” he says and I promise you he was rolling his eyes.
“You’re not only an asshole, you’re a sneaky, disgusting asshole too. Oh my God, you’re a triple threat!”
“What is—” he tried but, I shut him down.
“But I love you even with your asshole ways. You brought me out of my funk, you helped save my marriage, and you’re the best dad a girl that never had one could ask for. Even if, you’re an asshole.” With that, I made my way around the desk, leaned in and hugged him. Kissing his cheek, I get back up and head for the door.
“Time,” he booms out.
“What now?” I ask faking my anger.
“You scuffed my designer shoes; I’m taking that out of your check.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh so hard I had to use the door to hold me up. Making my way out, I stayed outside his door a moment longer to gather myself before going back to work. Suddenly, he comes out of the door clearly not expecting to see me there and back peddles.
“Thought you were leaving?” he accuses.
“I’m just going down the hall, dad,” I whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I’ll be fine, you know I will.”
“Yeah well, it’s a father’s job to worry about his kids. Quit wasting company time and get back to work.” Swatting me on the butt, he sends me on my way and to make him proud, to ease his worry, I was as careful as possible.
/>
This morning when I woke up and reached for her she wasn’t there. As always, I panic when I don’t see her which is ironic when you think about it. My wife no longer has her sight yet she never panics in the face of uncertainty, she never has.
Exiting the bed, I find her in the kitchen making us breakfast.
With Bella at her feet, she finds the ingredients slowly and efficiently.
Watching Time move forward was a gift. Quietly entering the room, I come a few feet from her side and notice her reaching for the eggs that rolled out of her reach. Wanting to make her life easier, I carefully attempt to move them closer to her when she covers my hand with hers and squeezes.
“Thank you,” she says turning to face me.
“I didn’t do anything,” I point out.
“But you wanted to,” she says leaning into me. “That’s what matters.”
“Time?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you miss it?”
Closing her eyes, I watch her set the knife down first. Then setting her dish rag on the counter, she folds herself into my body, clinging to me like she always does. “You said that until you met me, you didn’t see.”
“I did say that.”
“Well, until you I couldn’t imagine a life without sight. Then I found you and realized you needed my sight more than I did.”
“Time…”
“Your life needed color, Drum,” she whispers. “So I gave you mine.”
Since the day we met, through all of her struggles and even once her world went dark, I managed to keep it together in front of her until now…
Sobbing in earnest she holds on to me, guiding me through it. Not a day goes by that I don’t hurt for my wife, wishing she would have been spared this. Of its own will, my body started to quake and she did for me what I did for her. “What color are my eyes?” she asks.
“Crystal blue,” I manage. “Like the water in St. Vincent.”
“What color is my hair?”
“All of them,” I whisper into her neck.
“What’s my name, Drum?”
“Time,” I sputter out. “Time Green, my wife.”